[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Weird Tales August 1928.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
_1. The Coming of Solomon_
The moonlight shimmered hazily, making silvery mists of illusion among
the shadowy trees. A faint breeze whispered down the valley, bearing
a shadow that was not of the moon-mist. A faint scent of smoke was
apparent.
The man whose long, swinging strides, unhurried yet unswerving, had
carried him for many a mile since sunrise, stopped suddenly. A movement
in the trees had caught his attention, and he moved silently toward the
shadows, a hand resting lightly on the hilt of his long, slim rapier.
Warily he advanced, his eyes striving to pierce the darkness that
brooded under the trees. This was a wild and menacing country; death
might be lurking under those trees. Then his hand fell away from the
hilt and he leaned forward. Death indeed was there, but not in such
shape as might cause him fear.
"The fires of Hades!" he murmured. "A girl! What has harmed you, child?
Be not afraid of me."
The girl looked up at him, her face like a dim white rose in the dark.
"You--who are--you?" her words came in gasps.
"Naught but a wanderer, a landless man, but a friend to all in need."
The gentle voice sounded somehow incongruous, coming from the man.
The girl sought to prop herself up on her elbow, and instantly he
knelt and raised her to a sitting position, her head resting against
his shoulder. His hand touched her breast and came away red and wet.
"Tell me." His voice was soft, soothing, as one speaks to a babe.
"Le Loup," she gasped, her voice swiftly growing weaker. "He and
his men--descended upon our village--a mile up the valley. They
robbed--slew--burned----"
"That, then, was the smoke I scented," muttered the man. "Go on, child."
"I ran. He, the Wolf, pursued me--and--caught me----" The words died
away in a shuddering silence.
"I understand, child. Then----?"
"Then--he--he--stabbed me--with his dagger--oh, blessed
saints!--mercy----"
Suddenly the slim form went limp. The man eased her to the earth, and
touched her brow lightly.
"Dead!" he muttered.
Slowly he rose, mechanically wiping his hands upon his cloak. A dark
scowl had settled on his somber brow. Yet he made no wild, reckless
vow, swore no oath by saints or devils.
"Men shall die for this," he said coldly.
_2. The Lair of the Wolf_
"You are a fool!" The words came in a cold snarl that curdled the
hearer's blood.
He who had just been named a fool lowered his eyes sullenly without
answer.
"You and all the others I lead!" The speaker leaned forward, his fist
pounding emphasis on the rude table between them. He was a tall,
rangy-built man, supple as a leopard and with a lean, cruel, predatory
face. His eyes danced and glittered with a kind of reckless mockery.
The fellow spoken to replied sullenly, "This Solomon Kane is a demon
from hell, I tell you."
"Faugh! Dolt! He is a man--who will die from a pistol ball or a sword
thrust."
"So thought Jean, Juan and La Costa," answered the other grimly. "Where
are they? Ask the mountain wolves that tore the flesh from their dead
bones. Where does this Kane hide? We have searched the mountains and
the valleys for leagues, and we have found no trace. I tell you, Le
Loup, he comes up from hell. I knew no good would come from hanging
that friar a moon ago."
The Wolf strummed impatiently upon the table. His keen face, despite
lines of wild living and dissipation, was the face of a thinker. The
superstitions of his followers affected him not at all.
"Faugh! I say again. The fellow has found some cavern or secret vale of
which we do not know where he hides in the day."
"And at night he sallies forth and slays us," gloomily commented the
other. "He hunts us down as a wolf hunts deer--by God, Le Loup, you
name yourself Wolf but I think you have met at last a fiercer and more
crafty wolf than yourself! The first we know of this man is when we
find Jean, the most desperate bandit unhung, nailed to a tree with his
own dagger through his breast, and the letters S. L. K. carved upon his
dead cheeks. Then the Spaniard Juan is struck down, and after we find
him he lives long enough to tell us that the slayer is an Englishman,
Solomon Kane, who has sworn to destroy our entire band! What then? La
Costa, a swordsman second only to yourself, goes forth swearing to meet
this Kane. By the demons of perdition, it seems he met him! For we
found his sword-pierced corpse upon a cliff. What now? Are we all to
fall before this English fiend?"
"True, our best men have been done to death by him," mused the bandit
chief. "Soon the rest return from that little trip to the hermit's;
then we shall see. Kane can not hide forever. Then--ha, what was that?"
The two turned swiftly as a shadow fell across the table. Into the
entrance of the cave that formed the bandit lair, a man staggered. His
eyes were wide and staring; he reeled on buckling legs, and a dark
red stain dyed his tunic. He came a few tottering steps forward, then
pitched across the table, sliding off onto the floor.
"Hell's devils!" cursed the Wolf, hauling him upright and propping him
in a chair. "Where are the rest, curse you?"
"Dead! All dead!"
"How? Satan's curses on you, speak!" The Wolf shook the man savagely,
the other bandit gazing on in wide-eyed horror.
"We reached the hermit's hut just as the moon rose," the man muttered.
"I stayed outside--to watch--the others went in--to torture the
hermit--to make him reveal--the hiding-place--of his gold."
"Yes, yes! Then what?" The Wolf was raging with impatience.
"Then the world turned red--the hut went up in a roar and a red rain
flooded the valley--through it I saw--the hermit and a tall man clad
all in black--coming from the trees----"
"Solomon Kane!" gasped the bandit. "I knew it! I----"
"Silence, fool!" snarled the chief. "Go on!"
"I fled--Kane pursued--wounded me--but I
outran--him--got--here--first----"
The man slumped forward on the table.
"Saints and devils!" raged the Wolf. "What does he look like, this
Kane?"
"Like--Satan----"
The voice trailed off in silence. The dead man slid from the table to
lie in a red heap upon the floor.
"Like Satan!" babbled the other bandit. "I told you! 'Tis the Horned
One himself! I tell you----"
He ceased as a frightened face peered in at the cave entrance.
"Kane?"
"Aye." The Wolf was too much at sea to lie. "Keep close watch, La Mon;
in a moment the Rat and I will join you."
The face withdrew and Le Loup turned to the other.
"This ends the band," said he. "You, I, and that thief La Mon are all
that are left. What would you suggest?"