"Your families are safe," grunted Conan (ваши семьи в безопасности, — пробурчал Конан). "My companion went ahead to take them to Velitrium (мой товарищ пошел вперед, чтобы отвести их в Велитриум). If we go back to the main road we may run into the whole horde (если мы пойдем назад по главной дороге, мы можем наткнуться на целую орду). We'll strike southeast, through the timber (мы пойдем на юго-восток, через лес). Go ahead (идите вперед). I'll scout behind (я разведаю сзади / прикрою)."

"Your families are safe," grunted Conan. "My companion went ahead to take them to Velitrium. If we go back to the main road we may run into the whole horde. We'll strike southeast, through the timber. Go ahead. I'll scout behind."

A few moments later the whole band was hurrying southeastward (несколько секунд спустя весь отряд спешил на юго-восток). Conan followed more slowly, keeping just within ear-shot (Конан шел за ними медленнее, держась как раз в пределах слышимости). He cursed the noise they were making (он проклинал шум, /который/ они создавали); that many Picts or Cimmerians would have moved through the woods with no more noise than the wind makes as it blows through the black branches (столько пиктов или киммерийцев прошли бы через лес с шумом не больше, чем от ветра: «чем ветер делает», когда он дует между черных ветвей). He had just crossed a small glade when he wheeled, answering the conviction of his primitive instincts that he was being followed (он только что пересек небольшую поляну, когда он повернулся, отвечая на = повинуясь вере в свои первобытные инстинкты, которым он следовал). Standing motionless among the bushes he heard the sounds of the retreating settlers fade away (стоя неподвижно среди кустов, он услышал, как затихают звуки удаляющихся поселенцев). Then a voice called faintly back along the way he had come: "Conan! Conan! Wait for me, Conan (потом голос позвал слабо сзади с той стороны: «вдоль пути», откуда он пришел: Конан! Конан! Подожди меня, Конан)!"

wind [wɪnd], blow [bləu], conviction [kənˈvɪkʃn]

A few moments later the whole band was hurrying southeastward. Conan followed more slowly, keeping just within ear-shot. He cursed the noise they were making; that many Picts or Cimmerians would have moved through the woods with no more noise than the wind makes as it blows through the black branches. He had just crossed a small glade when he wheeled, answering the conviction of his primitive instincts that he was being followed. Standing motionless among the bushes he heard the sounds of the retreating settlers fade away. Then a voice called faintly back along the way he had come: "Conan! Conan! Wait for me, Conan!"