Here is a short excerpt from a Solomon Kane story that appears in my latest book, 3 Blades Against Darkness.
Moon Over the Black Forest
The snow made the
walk difficult, but Kane trudged forward relentlessly, his long, steady strides
eating up the miles. There was no path through the thick primeval forests of
pine and spruce, but Kane had an uncanny sense of direction. Soon, the castle
came into view. It was perched high up on top of a hill. It was a splendid
stone structure consisting of buildings surrounding a tall tower that appeared
older than the other buildings. Even from a distance, the castle appeared to
give off a dark malevolence. Solomon Kane had felt such a malevolence before.
Soon, Kane began
to see fresh tracks of a wolf in the snow, but they were like no wolf tracks he
had ever seen. Most animals left four-footed tracks, but these were two-footed
tracks as if the wolf walked upright like a man.
It was nearly dark
by the time Kane reached the castle door. With his stick, he wrapped on the
large oak door spanning three times the width of a man and twice as high. A
tall, bald man with a prominent nose and a perpetual grimace finally opened the
door. He held aloft a candle tree and regarded Kane with disdain.
“I wish to see
Graf Strasser,” Kane said.
The bald man’s
face appeared even more disgusted. He spoke in an angry tone and referred to
the Englishman as landstreicher. The bald man moved to close the door on
Kane, but the Puritan stepped forward and held the door open. The bald man
began to berate Kane in German. Kane knew enough German to be insulted. Just
then, Kane heard another man’s voice.
“Gustav! Gustav! Was
ist los?”
The bald man
stepped aside subserviently, and Kane pushed open the door to see that another
man had approached. He was a middle-aged man, quite handsome and richly
dressed. He held a candlestick and regarded Kane curiously.
“Ja, was willst
du?” he asked the stranger at his door.
“I wish to see
Graf Strasser,” Kane said.
“I am Graf
Strasser,” the man said with haughtiness and curiosity. He exuded regal
sophistication and superiority.
“I am Solomon Kane,
and I was hoping you might take pity on a traveler who has not eaten nor rested
all day.”
“Landstreicher!”
Gustav said again in an even angrier tone. “Geh jetzt! Leave now!”
“Nonsense, Gustav,”
Graff Strasser said to the man calmly. “This man is not a tramp. He is an
Englishman.” Then, addressing Kane, he said smiling, “Come in, sir, come in.
Come in out of the cold and warm yourself.”
Kane entered the
great hall. It had a high ceiling illuminated solely by the candle tree held by
Gustav and Graff Strasser’s candlestick. A table stood by the door.
“Feel free to take
off your hat and cloak and set them on the table,” Strasser said, and when Kane
had done so, Strasser added. “You can leave your weapons there as well. You
will not need them.”
Kane placed his
pistol, dirk, and sword belt on the table.
“Now, Herr Kane,
if you would join me, dinner will be served shortly,” Strasser said graciously.
He turned to his servant and said, “Gustav, please set another place for
dinner. Herr Kane and I will wait in the library. Please, lead the way.”
Gustav gave the
Englishman another disdainful look and led the two men to the library. Once
there, Strasser had Gustav leave the candle tree, and he gave his servant the candlestick
to use.
“Gustav, please
bring some wine for my guest and me,” Strasser said. “It will help take the
chill out of his bones and warm his blood.”
Gustav gave a bow
and left the room.
“You do not object
to drinking wine, I hope,” Strasser said. “I take it from your garments that
you are a Puritan.”
“Puritans do not
object to drinking. Only drinking to excess.”
“Excellent.”
Kane looked around
the room. There were many shelves laden with books. Kane had seldom seen such a
handsome collection. Fine furniture was scattered in the library. There was a
wooden cabinet and chest with wonderful, intricate carvings. There was a set of
armchairs with square legs, and one armchair upholstered with velvet. In the
middle of the room was a table decorated with carvings and inlay. They all
displayed excellent craftsmanship.
“Tell me, Herr
Kane, from where in England do you hail?” Graf Strasser asked in a friendly
tone.
“Devon.”
The man nodded and
repeated the name. “I have visited England. I have been to London. It is a
great city.”
Gustav came in and
served the wine. Kane and his host drank. The Puritan mentioned its exceptional
quality.
“Thank you,” Strasser
said. “My family has been here for hundreds of years. This castle goes back
centuries.”
“I saw a tower
that stands above everything else. It looks quite formidable.”
The German smiled.
“That tower was built first. It was constructed by one of my illustrious
ancestors. It was called the Wolfssturm Tower, built in the thirteenth century,
about the time of disputed succession. Over the years, this castle was built
around the tower. It is now Wolfssturm Castle.”
“Is there some
significance to that name?” Kane asked. “Were there wolves in the area?”
“At one time, the
Black Forest was teeming with wolves, mein Freund.”
“But no longer?”
“Over the years,
my family has hunted them almost to extinction.”
“There must be plenty
of folklore about wolves in the forest,” Kane said.
Strasser regarded
the Englishman closely, then nodded.
“I can tell you a
wolf story,” Strasser said.
“Is it a
folktale?”
“It is a true tale,
let me assure you,” the German said. “Once, while out hunting in the woods, my
grandfather killed a wolf with a crossbow. The creature was extraordinary.”
“How so?”
“Because it took
three bolts to kill the beast, and when it was dead, people came from all
around just to see it, for no one had ever seen such a wolf. It measured seven
feet long from the tip of its snout to the end of its tail.”
That is
extraordinary, Kane mused.
“As a matter of
fact… here, let me show you something,” Graf Strasser said. Putting down his drink
and picking up the candle tree, he led Kane over to the far wall of the room.
There on the wall was a display of weapons. Some were very old. There was a
battle axe, a broadsword, and a mace. There were knives, daggers, and rapiers. In
the center of the display was an old crossbow.
“That is the very
weapon my grandfather used to kill the wolf,” Strasser said, beaming with
pride.
“A formidable
weapon,” said Kane. “A handsome display.”
Just then, Gustav
entered the room and announced dinner.
They entered the
dining room, which was in keeping with the opulence of the castle. There was a
long cherry wood dining table and matching chairs. Fine China, silver goblets, and
silverware were set for three. Two silver candelabras lit the room. Nearby, a
fire was ablaze in a fireplace with an ornately carved mantel. From another
door, a woman entered the room.
Solomon Kane
stopped and stood as if struck. He could help but stare at her. He did not
believe he had ever seen a woman of such loveliness. She was young, perhaps two
and twenty, at least a dozen years younger than Stasser. She had golden hair
and light blue eyes. Her gown was lovely and accentuated a fine figure. She
wore a silver cross hung on a silver chain around her neck. She was the epitome
of beauty and elegance and moved with grace, but something about her facial
expression raised his concern. Was it a sadness he saw written across her
lovely features? Surely, those lips, so red and full, were meant to smile, but
she held her mouth tight as if she did not feel worthy to smile. Perhaps she
was troubled about something, Kane thought, but no woman this young and so
lovely should be so heavily burdened by worry.
