The Scorpion King

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"With the noble poise of his handsome head upon those broad shoulders, and the fire of life and intelligence of those fine, clear eyes, he might readily have typified some demi-god of a wild and warlike bygone people."

—Edgar Rice Burroughs

                 SNOW BEAST

L

ord Memnon's outposts stretched from the desert to the snowpacked mountain ranges that marked the edge of the known world. Along the periphery of that craggy border, where winter winds whistled and ice embraced the bare branches of trees, a log fortress played home to a tribe of fierce warriors aligned with the great warlord. These men would one day be known as Copts; in these ancient times they were known only as murderers.

Their stronghold—a formidable, ominous land­mark of barbarian-style civilization in the stark land­scape—was a windowless three floors where warriors plotted pillage, tortured the occasional pris­oner and even, between atrocities, partook of savage revelries.

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