Solomon Kane Story Excerpt

 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.

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