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- Herausgeber: Titan Books
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
Larger than most men, but still naive about the world and its complexities, an eighteen-year-old Conan is offered a job by the palace. A family heirloom, the Amulet of Nakamar, has been stolen. They need a thief to retrieve it. On his mission Conan is attacked by guards, thieves and other saboteurs. Why is everyone after this amulet? And why does he feel like he's been set up?
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Leave us a Review
Copyright
Map
Conan: The Amulet of Nakamar
About the Author
THE AMULETOF NAKAMAR
BRENDAN DENEEN
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Conan: The Amulet of Nakamar
E-book edition ISBN: 9781835416860
Published by Titan Books
A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd
144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP
www.titanbooks.com
First edition: November 2025
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (except for satirical purposes), is entirely coincidental.
© 2025 Conan Properties International (“CPI”). CONAN, CONAN THE BARBARIAN, CONAN THE CIMMERIAN, HYBORIA, THE SAVAGE SWORD OF CONAN and related logos, names and character likenesses thereof are trademarks or registered trademarks of CPI. ROBERT E. HOWARD is a trademark or registered trademark of Robert E. Howard Properties LLC. Heroic Signatures is a trademark of Cabinet Licensing LLC.
Brendan Deneen asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
EU RP (for authorities only)eucomply OÜ, Pärnu mnt. 139b-14, 11317 Tallinn, [email protected], +3375690241
CONAN:THE AMULETOF NAKAMAR
BRENDAN DENEEN
Conan the Cimmerian sat in the back of the smoky tavern, quietly observing the packed house while taking huge gulps of ale. It was a warm night, typical for the height of summer in the city of Arenjun. Even though the door to the establishment was propped open, the throng of bodies and thick air of burnt tobacco made the dank establishment even stuffier than usual.
Conan didn’t mind. Hidden away in a shadowy corner, wearing a light leather tunic, he was given a wide berth by the intoxicated revelers and the drunkenly depressed alike. He’d spent the last several weeks in the Zamorian City of Thieves and had found it to his liking, though part of him yearned to explore new cities, to embark on new adventures.
Even though he was only eighteen years old, he was tall and lithe, though his frame hid thick muscles that more than one man had underestimated. And he had picked up enough skills during his time in Arenjun to steal from both wealthy individuals and successful businesses, allowing him to live a comfortable life until the eventual day that he would grow bored and move on to his next destination – perhaps Zamboula or Shadizar. For now, however, a purse full of newly stolen gold and a flagon of ale was a satisfying way to spend an evening. Even if he was running low on both.
After another few moments, however, Conan’s right hand slowly slid off the now half-empty metal cup and to the dagger at his side. A tall, heavyset man with a thick salt-and-pepper beard and a bald pate had divorced himself from the crowd surrounding the bar and was making a beeline for the Cimmerian. The man wore clothes of much finer quality than anyone else currently inhabiting the tavern.
“May I join you, my young friend?” he asked in a baritone as Conan’s fingers wrapped around his weapon. Without looking down, the stranger raised his palms in supplication and added, “There is no need to draw your dagger. I am unarmed and only wish to talk.”
Conan glanced around the bar, attempting to determine if this was a distraction from a broader attack. Realizing that it wasn’t, that no one was paying attention to them whatsoever, he withdrew his hand from his weapon and nodded at the seat across from him while simultaneously finishing the rest of his drink in a single gulp.
“You are Conan of Cimmeria, are you not?” the man continued, settling his large frame into the wooden chair.
At the mention of his name in a tavern where he ostensibly knew no one, the young thief immediately grew cautious again, quickly making mental calculations. He could slit the man’s throat and be out the door before the corpse hit the ground. Random murders in Maul, the seediest and most dangerous district of Arenjun, were as routine as a commoner buying a loaf of bread. Maybe more so.
Once again, the older man held up his palms, a slick smile spreading across his face. “My apologies. I should have introduced myself before using your name. I am Fabian.” Hearing this, Conan was unable to keep a look of surprise from crossing his face. “Ah, you’ve heard of me.”
“You are the leader of the Thieves’ Guild,” Conan said quietly. “Of course I have heard of you.”
