floor [flɔ: ], sensation [senˈseɪʃn], curse [kə: s]
"Son of a slut!" Conan lunged at him. But the mist swirled up from the floor, blotting out that giant brown form. Groping in a rolling cloud that blinded him, Conan felt a rending sensation of dislocation — and then room and mist and brown man were gone together. He was standing alone among the high reeds of a marshy fen, and a buffalo was lunging at him, head down. He leaped aside from the ripping scimitar-curved horns and drove his sword in behind the foreleg, through ribs and heart. And then it was not a buffalo dying there in the mud, but the brown- skinned Baal-pteor. With a curse Conan struck off his head; and the head soared from the ground and snapped beastlike tusks into his throat. For all his mighty strength he could not tear it loose — he was choking — strangling; then there was a rush and roar through space, the dislocating shock of an immeasurable impact, and he was back in the chamber with Baal-pteor, whose head was once more set firmly on his shoulders, and who laughed silently at him from the divan.
"Mesmerism!" muttered Conan, crouching and digging his toes hard against the marble (гипноз! — пробормотал Конан, пригибаясь и занимая твердую позицию на мраморе;
His eyes blazed (его глаза пылали). This brown dog was playing with him, making sport of him (эта коричневая псина играла с ним, делая из него посмешище;