[The Path of the King by John Buchan]@TWC D-Link book
The Path of the King

CHAPTER 4
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Men whispered their name with averted faces, and in the eyes of the travelled ones there was the terror of sights remembered outside the mortal pale.

Aimery's heart was stout, but he brooded much as the road climbed into the mountains.

Far off in Cyprus the Khakan had seemed a humble devotee at Christ's footstool, asking only to serve and learn; but now he had grown to some monstrous Cyclops beyond the stature of man, a portent like a thundercloud brooding over unnumbered miles.
Besides, the young lord was homesick, and had long thoughts of Alix his wife and the son she had borne him.

As he looked at the stony hills he remembered that it would now be springtide in Picardy, when the young green of the willows fringed every watercourse and the plovers were calling on the windy downs.
The Constable of Armenia dwelt in a castle of hewn stone about which a little city clustered, with mountains on every side to darken the sky, He was as swarthy as a Saracen and had a long nose like a Jew, but he was a good Christian and a wise ruler, though commonly at odds with his cousin of Antioch.

From him Aimery had more precise news of the Khakan.
There were two, said the Constable.


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