The Hour of the Dragon
Conan laughed and slapped his sword home in its scabbard. He flexed his
mighty arms, and ran his blood-stained fingers through his thick black
locks, as if feeling there his re-won crown.
'There is a girl in your seraglio named Zenobia.'
'Why, yes, so there is.'
'Very well.' The king smiled as at an exceedingly pleasant memory. 'She
shall be your ransom, and naught else. I will come to Belverus for her
as I promised. She was a slave in Nemedia, but I will make her queen of
Aquilonia!'