Solomon Kane in Queen of the Fiends Beneath
Apr 23, 2016 9:00:16 GMT -5
Post by themirrorthief on Apr 23, 2016 9:00:16 GMT -5
The sweltering heat of another long West African day seemed to accentuate the incessant, throbbing beat of the drums. The pounding rhythm was simultaneously primal and mystical. Depending on whose ears it reached, the sound could be considered mesmerizing, hypnotic, or even horrifying. Some have said, and perhaps rightfully, that the drums were a representation of the Dark Continent's heartbeat. The pulsating effect spoke to a vastness, those things untamed, and mysteries ancient and deep. Strange things the white man was drawn towards but could never fully understand.
One such man was called Solomon Kane. He was a restless wanderer, a seeker of adventure, a fierce fighter, and an entirely complex man. Many things had been said or whispered of Kane but there were two truths that no one would dispute. He was one of the greatest and most feared swordsmen that the British Isles ever produced and he was a religious fanatic following the way of the puritan.
Of course many also called him mad. This was a rumor that Kane himself could not dispute entirely. The true purpose behind many of his travels and the red deeds he performed were a mystery even unto the man himself. To relate to you now the tale of one of his most astounding adventures we must travel back through the mists of time to the ominous dark expanse that was Africa. Back to the oppressive heat of that day in the year 1582......and the sound of the drums.
The thundering beat increased in tempo and intensity. The nearly naked horde of ebony skinned tribesmen chanted loudly and beat their spears against the hard ground. Their bodies glistened with streams of steaming sweat as they swayed and moaned to the ancient, foreboding beat. A mass of undulating limbs moved in rhythm as a ritual nearly as old as man himself was played out. Quivering bright ostrich feathers adored heads and bodies that lurched with primal anticipation.
The tall gaunt white man cursed and spat at his captors. He strained unceasingly against the stout ropes that bound him to a heavy pole, one set deep in the sun baked earth. The murderous fire that glowed in his icy steel gray eyes gave cause for the warriors standing guard to grip their iron tipped spears with nervous alertness.
The white man's clothes had been reduced to tattered rags and he bled from a dozen wounds. He gave no thought to any of this, but only that he must break free and somehow bring to a halt the ghastly tribal ritual occurring just before his infuriated eyes.
The white woman was beautiful despite the dirt and tears that marred her delicately chiseled features. Her clothing had been ripped away and her fragile skin glowed an angry red beneath the merciless African sun that beat down relentlessly.
She lay sobbing faintly, face down on the ground. The girl was bound to a rough hewed pole by abrasive bindings, ropes that cut deeply into her tender, sorely blistered flesh every time she attempted to move.
Two great, heavily muscled black warriors positioned themselves on either side of the helpless girl. With scant little effort they grasped the pole in their powerful hands and hoisted the slight girl's body to a vertical position. She cried out with pain and began to sob louder. Her full naked breasts swayed and heaved with terror. She made weak pleading noises as the two men carried her up a crude earthen ramp. They paused at the apex of the ramp as the drums continued to pound with an ever increasing frenzy.
The edge of the primitive ramp pushed up against a very large clay cistern filled with boiling water. The smoke from the fire beneath floated lazily upwards and away. The white man cursed with renewed vigor and struggled mightily against his binds even as sharp spear points pricked at his flesh, creating fresh wounds. The veins in his neck stood out as if they were about to burst. Still, the man could do little else save bear witness to the cruel events occurring only a few yards away.
With a precision perfected by much practice the two burly sweating warriors held their burden over the steaming hot water. Inch by agonizing inch they lowered the woman feet first until her toes were partly immersed in the steaming hot liquid. Despite her exhaustion, the girl screamed from this new and unbearable pain. She frantically tossed her head back and forth, giving cause for her long blond tresses to fly about wildly. This action seemed to fuel the mad frenzy of the savages and many yelped excitedly. Indeed, one or two of the elderly amongst the horde fainted from lurid anticipation at that precise moment.
The white man's protests became little more than dust choked gasps as his strong voice faltered. He might have cried at that moment had his body held sufficient fluids to make tears. It did not.
The helpless girl was lowered still more until the boiling water struck her at mid calf. The odor of cooking flesh reached the nostrils of the horrified white man and he vomited the meager contents of his stomach. His struggles were now reduced to little more than a battle to merely remain conscious.
The powerful ebony duo lifted the woman's body from the terrible cistern even as pieces of flesh fell off her tortured limbs and back into the pink stained liquid. Then cold water was splashed onto the face of the hapless victim until she revived sufficiently to re-enter what had truly become for her a waking nightmare. She shut her eyes in an expression of hopelessness but not before fixing her gaze for the briefest moment on the white man. Then she moaned from the intense agony as her captors hastily transported her back up the ramp. The drums thundered and the loud chanting droned on as the screaming blond woman was held over the steaming cooking pot yet again, only tilted head down this time.
As the tips of the young white girl's golden tresses sizzled and popped on making contact with the boiling water, the white man once again found his voice. He screamed with all the anger, agony, and stark mad indignation that his mighty frame could muster.
Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*
Solomon Kane wakened screaming. His violent thrashing about came perilously near to hurling the puritan off the wide limb where he'd slumbered for one or two fitful hours. The lofty perch had seemed safe enough from the roaming beasts below but it had provided scarce protection from..........."A cursed nightmare sent by Satan himself to plague my scant rest," the gaunt Englishman mumbled to himself. "Yet it has no power over the conscious mind."
Kane utilized his great agility to scamper down from the tree that had served as a place of repose. By the time his boots hit solid ground the puritan's usual steely composure had returned entirely. As always, his first concern was to examine his weapons. This thought was almost immediately replaced by another. Out there somewhere an ominous rumbling had commenced and it was uncomfortably close.
"The drums," Kane whispered almost reverently. His hard gained experience on the Dark Continent had long since taught him exactly what this particular rhythm meant. Once again the fierce ebony tribesmen had picked up the dark clad Englishman's trail. The drums spoke to a hunt....and the prey was a white man!
The puritan swordsman was reminded of the terrible nightmare. "The dream was meant to rouse me from my deep slumber. It was a warning it seems, and one for which I am most humbly grateful."
The gaunt, grim faced adventurer lowered his head for a quick prayer of thanks before taking full flight against the thinly veiled light of the breaking dawn.
The Dark Continent has ever been a dangerous, unconquered land. During the sixteenth century it could truthfully be said that this wholly untamed expanse was nothing if not a singular, unending wave of peril upon peril. The landless wanderer Solomon Kane had learned this simple fact only to well. He glided from tree to tree, bush to bush, like a skittish panther. It was a tribute to the Englishman's uncommon stamina, keen intellect, and graceful agility that he managed to somehow stay at least one step ahead of the fearsome West African warriors who pursued their gaunt prey with relentless, unwavering zeal. It was almost as if they saw the white man as a cancer that must be purged from the flesh that was the Dark Continent.
Ever mindful of concealing his tall frame whenever possible, Kane cautiously entered a copse covered morass of decaying vegetation, tangled vines, and chattering monkeys. Confident that he was safely hidden for the moment, the swordsman paused and sat beneath a great fig tree, a tree that provided easily obtained nutrition for the curious monkeys. There the puritan gnawed a mouthful of dried meat and took a sip from the small wine flask he carried tucked into his glimmering green oriental sash. Briefly he thought to perhaps shoot one of the monkeys and enjoy a meal of fresh meat. This idea was quickly brushed aside because the risks of making such a noise were simply to great. A shot might carry to the ears of his enemy, not a prospect Kane relished. Thus resigned, the harried puritan rested.
Solomon Kane did not linger long nor did he need to so great was his vast endurance and remarkable vigor. A half-hour of repose for the strangely pallid swordsman served to refresh him far more than a three or four hour respite would rest ordinary men. The striking figure clad all in drab black had been called many things during his tumultuous life, but not a single person had ever mouthed the word ordinary in describing the somber puritan fanatic.
The broad expanse of Africa's skies had been mostly unclouded that day but the occasional clap of distant thunder prompted Kane to acknowledge that better shelter than what a mere tree could provide would be a welcomed sight. A stormy night complete with potentially deadly lightening and cold heavy rain would plague a man most sorely should he be caught out in the open.
Thus Solomon Kane rose to his feet and peered in every direction through the deep set slits of his hard gray eyes. He sought in this fashion to detect anything amiss or unusual ere he took so much as one step. These simple precautions had served him well, the proof being he remained as yet amongst the living. Still, he noted nothing threatening, no great prowling beasts or poisonous reptiles slithering about, and thankfully, no proud but malevolent headhunters lurking in the bush.
All the same the Dark Continent held many evils well hidden, secret unknowns that awaited any man brave or foolish enough to test his survival skills against unmerciful raw nature. Kane had taken no more than a half-dozen carefully calculated steps upon parting from beneath the shade of the great fig tree when the very earth beneath his heavy boots suddenly gave way! The puritan felt his body fall, arms flailing against empty space for a horrifyingly long instant. Just as suddenly he slammed with great force against a hard surface. The impetus from the long fall and a glancing blow to the head thanks to some unknown object instantly hurled the surprised adventurer into the blackness of unconsciousness.
The Englishman gradually awakened to a world filled with pain, confusion, and blurred visual images. His head throbbed like a searing hot kettle being pounded upon by a giant wielding a great hammer. As Kane struggled to lift himself to a sitting position, he vigorously massaged his eyes and neck until the objects before him began to slowly re-define themselves with more clarity. Most men would have cursed their foul luck after falling into what appeared to be a natural chasm. Kane was silent. If anything he considered himself fortunate that it was not a man made pit.....one that might soon be ringed by hate filled ebony faces. In his haste he had failed to make a more careful study of the ground on which he walked. Had he been more vigilant perhaps he might have noticed that it was not solid ground that he had attempted to traverse. Kane rubbed his face and considered yet another hard lesson learned.
Other than a rather smallish boulder and scattered debris mostly consisting of leaves and rotten twigs, the Englishman was utterly alone......and apparently trapped.
Kane continued to massage his throbbing temples as he hauled himself up sufficently to assume a sitting position upon the solitary boulder. Looking upwards the puritan could see the hole his body had created as it plunged through the leafy vines and plants that had grown over the maw of the pit. At least a goodly measure of daylight was thusly admitted into what otherwise would have been an environment of shrouded darkness. The swordsman sat and attempted to gather himself. He found his shapeless black hat and placed it on his throbbing head. Then Kane meticulously inspected his weapons to ascertain as to whether they had received damage during the unexpected fall. He was relieved to find his pistols, long rapier, and lethal dirk all in good working order. However, the puritan reasoned quite logically that an armed man trapped in a deep hole was scarcely better off than an unarmed man that likewise found himself in a deep hole.
The Englishman found his wine flask and was grateful that it held one last, good swallow. The warm fluid served to hasten the surging return of the puritan's legendary strength. Still, he continued to sit in deep contemplation regarding his current and altogether dire situation. Despite the pain and bruising he had no broken bones so far as he could tell. Off in the distance the thunder continued sporadically. In turn, this sound was answered by the rumbling roar of some magnificent lion located in the not so distant bush.
Depending on location, the sheer rock walls of the pit rose between twenty-five to almost thirty feet from the floor of the crevice. There appeared to Kane's sharp eyes less than nothing that might serve as a hand or foothold should an effort be made to climb out of the bowels of the earth and back into the world above. A spider or perhaps even a clever monkey could scramble out of such a cursed trap but Solomon Kane could not envision a man accomplishing such a daunting task.
The pit was nothing if not deep and spacious. The whole of the crevice was formed into something similar to the shape of wedge. Kane, sitting on his boulder throne, was located within the larger section of the triangle whereas the farther end of the pit narrowed to a murky point that lay cloaked by impenetrable darkness. The quickly fading daylight that filtered through from above was inadequate in respect to enabling a visual inspection of the entire surroundings from his present position. After a bit more rest the puritan determined to further explore the narrowed end of the pit. Kane found some renewed hope creeping back into his psyche. It was not totally out of the question that he might yet find means of escaping his new prison, albeit that means be hidden from his probing eye for the moment.
Stiff, bruised muscles protested adamantly as Kane stood and made ready to investigate the more shrouded areas of the pit. It was precisely then that he made the startling discovery that he was not entirely alone after all. At first he noticed the smell, the foul stench of putrid, unclean.....things.
The puritan frowned as the repulsive odor seemed to gather strength. Suddenly he realized that the narrow darkened area of the chasm was not enclosed at all. Evidently the ever increasing and entirely offensive odor emanated from some well concealed opening that lay just beyond the black maw that stretched before him. Kane's hand went immediately to the hilt of his rapier and he stood unblinking, straining his eyes as he peered into the mysterious area of opaque shadows and sheer blackness that lay so ominously nearby. And then he began to see them.
They slowly appeared, creeping with an almost imperceptible deliberateness. Kane could only guess as to what they were. Indeed they seemed almost human-like as they emerged from the inky darkness. However, it was just as true that they were wholly unlike any form of man that the puritan had ever encountered......and Solomon Kane had traveled far. They smelled of rotting flesh and their skin, mostly covered in festering sores, was dusky in color though not black like the native African. The things crept with an unsteady gait on gnarled and malformed limbs. Most were naked save for a few filthy and ragged loincloths. They were bald with the exception of occasional wisps of long and unkempt black hair. To the Englishman they seemed not unlike a foul demonic horde unleashed from the womb of hell but he held his ground unwavering.
The grim faced puritan instantly perceived the unsightly creatures to have malevolent intentions. As the pit filled with the stinking mutations, Kane saw not even one that didn't carry some type of weapon, woefully crude and primitive though they were. A few held heavy wooden clubs, others wielded nasty shards of jagged volcanic glass, and many simply carried a heavy stone....held high, poised for throwing or bashing. Primitive weapons true enough but Kane knew of nowhere that it was written a weapon must be sophisticated to kill a man.
Kane held his rapier and a pistol at the ready. He made an effort to speak to the diseased things by means of a few native dialects the clever puritan had learned from the friendly river peoples. The only response this elicited from the wretches was a whining nonsensical gibberish that could surely not be classified as language by any sane linguist. The Englishman backed away until he felt the sheer wall of rock at his back. There were perhaps nearly two dozen of the filthy, hunchbacked fiends. The puritan debated with himself as to what he detested most, the dreadsome stench of the sub-humans or their dark misshapened flesh that, to the swordsman, seemed the product of some cruel jest by the greater powers that ruled over all evil.
The gaunt puritan soon found himself surrounded. The creatures commenced their gibberish anew with all joining in and screeching loudly to the point of bringing pain to Solomon Kane's ears. He instinctively recognized the noise as a probable diversion, and truly most men would have felt wholly unsettled by all the racket. However Kane's eyes became tiny slits and he merely steeled himself all the more to the threat of battle. He was a man seemingly born to be a fighter and the prospects thereof did little to instill fear in the swordsman. He was as ready as ever....granted the odds left scant chance of survival. Still, some have whispered that death itself was afraid of the strange puritan with the cold hard eyes the color of bright steel.
The noise made by the creatures reached a screeching crescendo until Solomon Kane's quick eyes glimpsed a heavy bludgeon coming swiftly at his already throbbing head. The long rapier flashed like a lightening stroke and the arm of the club wielder was severed cleanly at the elbow. The thing fell back screaming, its over-sized eyes agape in horror at the sight of the blackish fluid spurting from the stump where its arms had so recently been attached. Kane cared not as he fired his pistol directly into the face of another grotesque assailant. The face dissolved into a ghastly red ruin and its owner fell dead, entangling momentarily the feet of a number of his companions.
The deadly Englishman had hoped that the report and effect of the shot might give cause for the attackers to flee en mass, as sometimes occurred when primitive peoples were exposed to gunfire for the first time. Alas, the shot did not have this effect. Rather, it seemed to increase the rage of the foul mob. The puritan noticed some clasped their hands over their largish ears which appeared to be nearly as sensitive as a normal man's. However, they hesitated for less than an instant before pressing the attack on Kane with a renewed energy.
A heavy stone crashed against the gaunt swordsman's shoulder and he staggered back but quickly recovered. Kane's rapier bit again, making a sickening sucking sound as he withdrew it from where it had plunged, deep into the chest of the rock thrower. The Englishman caught a quick glance at shriveled breasts on the dying fiend, obviously even the females had joined the fray. The struggling puritan doubted not that there were more women amongst the foe but he had not the time or inclination to differentiate as he slashed and dodged expertly.
The filthy horde came on with increasing boldness despite their losses. Kane discharged his second pistol but his aim was slightly askew due to an emaciated hand that yanked at the puritan's arm with surprising strength. Nevertheless, the bullet clipped a nose off and splattered blood into the eyes of its former host. The puritan soon found himself near suffocated by the sheer numbers of the underground dwellers. The rapier had become less than useless at such close quarters. Thus he reluctantly allowed it to slip from his grasp and fought on with his short dirk and one of his heavy pistols, which now served him well at close quarters as an effective bludgeon.
One leering, especially twisted face flashed just before Kane's. At the last possible instance, before the thing could dash out the puritan's brains with a heavy stone, its own skull was split open by means of a crashing blow with the pistol. The Englishman sensed that might have been his final victory as his mighty frame was slowly pressed back and down beneath the sheer weight of the stinking dark horde. Multiple blows rained down on the struggling swordsman and jagged sharp objects tore at his flesh. Still, he continued to fight on with indomitable will, striking with elbows, lashing out with the heels of his boots, and jabbing with the dirk until he felt it jarred from his hand by another blow from a jagged stone.
Solomon Kane felt his consciousness begin to wane as the depraved mass pressed against his chest making it impossible to breath. With a final effort born of mad fury Kane clutched a scrawny throat and dug his fingernails deep into the leathery flesh even as the gurgling thing spat blood and attempted with failed desperation to claw at the instrument of its fast approaching doom.
The Englishman knew that his own end was near as well. The darkness closed in rapidly and surely his fate was sealed..........but! What?
A piercing, wailing noise filled the pit. It was not unlike a loud whistle, yet at the same time there was a melodic mixture of oddly combined notes contained within the sound. The great weight pressing upon Kane suddenly fell away save for two or three unmoving bodies that were most certainly dead. The puritan was scarcely able to realize his amazement as he pushed and kicked feebly until his trembling and battered body was free from all impediment. Despite reeling near the verge of fainting Kane gasped and panted to regain his breath. Come what might he was grateful for the opportunity to suck air back into his deprived lungs. The foul stench of the attackers remained but the puritan somehow deciphered the fact that the foul creatures had taken sudden flight....but why? And what had been the source of the strange sound?
Solomon Kane blinked and employed his tattered sleeve to wipe the sweat, blood, and gore away from his eyes. This served to make his vision marginally better but did nothing to explain what his volcanic gray eyes revealed. The puritan wondered as to whether or not he might already be dead. Through a blurry haze of whirling mist he saw, or thought he saw, several large greenish orbs that floated before him in a bright, slightly wavering pattern. He could make no sense of it.
Solomon Kane continued to blink and rub at his eyes as his breaths settled, becoming much less desperate and ragged. Fresh air flooded his lately oxygen denied brain and the puritan forced himself upright despite the pain that screamed out at even the slightest movement. Whereas it could truly be said that the gaunt wanderer had seen many astonishing sights during his life, perhaps nothing had prepared him for the startling visions he glimpsed next.
The glowing green orbs were apparently some remarkable kind of torch. They were seated atop an apparatus consisting of a bowl with a wooden rod underneath. These rods were held high in the hands of a very unusual people entirely unlike the depraved sub-human species that had tried to kill the Englishman.
While they had the dusky complexions and over-sized eyes and ears of the stinking, primitive wretches, here were men as noble in build and expression as any that lived above the crust of the earth. These men were slender in build but not at all malnourished. They wore clean white skirts that fell very nearly to their knees. About their waists were bright red girdles that appeared to be gilded with gold! Above their large dark eyes were thin gold headbands. Kane could tell little about the color and texture of their hair due their simple headdresses fashioned from more of the clean white cloth. Upon their feet were well made sandals produced from the fibers of some reed like plant. Red strings snaked about their ankles in a complex fashion, attaching the sandals to the wearer.
Kane instantly noted the simple scabbards hanging from the gilded waistbands. These scabbards held long knives adorned with handles painted a bright yellow. Two or three of these mysterious figures held no green globes but the long knives instead. They studied the puritan with eyes that spoke to intelligence and many questions. However, Kane did not sense anything overtly threatening in the sensible defensive poses of these odd warriors. It seemed wholly probable that they were as astonished by Kane as he was by them.
The Englishman sat with has aching back against the solid rock wall of the pit. He found himself wondering about the source of the power within the green orbs. Perhaps they were simply objects of green glass that held a bright candle inside?
These musings were instantly forgotten as the newcomers parted ranks to allow an utterly stunning figure to make her way forward. Solomon Kane sat seemingly as calm as before but within his mighty chest his heart began to pound from a rush of pure adrenalin.
In a word she was beautiful, exquisitely beautiful in all respects. No language could do adequate justice to the vision that stood only scant feet away from the puritan. She was slight in build like the men but quite tall, standing just under six feet. Her skin was a deep golden hue like polished bronze and completely flawless. The smoothness and glow of her flesh was truly startling. Solomon Kane could swear good witness to this simple truth because the young woman was every bit as naked as she was noble.
She wore nothing save a gleaming gold headband, ivory and gold earrings, a gold chain about her supple waist, and sandals covered with leopard hide.
The girl's hair was a shimmering, sheer black. It was very long indeed, hanging nearly to glorious mid thigh. Her over-sized dark eyes mesmerized the puritan. They were deep, mysterious, and altogether magnificent. They seemed to penetrate him, seeking out his very essence if not his soul. The Englishman could take his eyes off hers only with difficulty. However this he did so in order to drink in the loveliness of her perfectly sculpted full lips and the very generous slope of her breasts. The tender tauntness of her stomach was accentuated by a large ruby set into her navel. The thick black denseness of her pubic mound appeared pleasingly groomed.
Despite the pounding his body had taken the puritan's pride demanded that he stand or at the very least attempt to do so. This simple chore proved to be much easier thought than accomplished unfortunately. The gaunt Englishman's limbs were plagued by pain and unaccustomed weakness. He remained still for a moment, determined to try again and all the harder, as soon as the cursed swoon he felt passed. He became dully aware that he was bleeding, and quite profusely.
The woman pointed at Kane and spoke a few words in a tongue that was completely alien to the puritan. Almost instantly a male retainer was at the Englishman's side offering him a decanter filled with some unknown but aromatic fluid.
Solomon Kane sniffed at the container suspiciously. The aroma was very fresh and sweet, and immensely appealing. He decided to throw caution to the wind and appease the pleas of his sorely parched lips and throat. The dryness thereof was unbearable even for the grim puritan. He took a tentative sip and found the liquid to be some sort of very appealing wine. Kane proceeded to drain the remainder of the drink.
The Englishman licked his lips in appreciation as the fluid spread through his limbs and lessened their aching considerably. He thought to make a second attempt at standing when the golden skinned princess edged closer until her sleek frame was less than a yard from where Kane sat. Someone passed her a rod about two feet in length. Unbelievably the object glowed with the same shimmering green light that emanated from the strange orbs.
The supple female knelt slightly and smiled beautifully. She spoke in an incomprehensible but soothing tone, with a voice that echoed like fine music. She held the queer rod out as if she wanted the Englishman to touch it.
Solomon Kane did not feel at all any sense of peril. He barely noticed the thunder that crashed above, nor did he take much note that it sounded much closer than before. The drink had steadied him. He even felt slightly giddy, something ordinary wine almost never managed to do no matter how much he drank. Such was the puritan's great stamina.
The lovely woman, a vision that literally encompassed all that a man desired in the form of a female, leaned even closer with the curious rod extended towards Kane. He sensed that she wanted him to take the thing from her hand. He made as if to grasp it, but ever vigilant, the Englishman choose to first barely brush the brightly glowing object with his fingertips.
Kane immediately felt a vague jolt followed by a warm tingling sensation in his hand. This odd feeling almost instantly spread throughout his battered body creating a warm numbing. For a few brief moments he felt something akin to pleasure before slumping forward, totally enveloped in blackness.
Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y**Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*
Solomon Kane was not a man who dreamed often but now he did. He smelled flowers and heard soft feminine voices. He could plainly hear the pleasing sound of gently churning waters not unlike the simple noises a little country stream might make.
Kane felt himself drifting along with the sounds of this merry natural brook. Suddenly the puritan realized that he had somehow traversed the great distances and returned to the English countryside and a fair land known as Devon.
The puritan had returned home. He saw the stream and discovered that he was in fact lying beside it. He rose without the slightest pain and walked into a vast field, one lit brightly by a magnificently glowing sun. Everywhere he looked gay, multi-colored wildflowers grew in abundance. Their odor pleased his nostrils. As he strolled about with limbs that felt amazingly light, Kane heard someone nearby calling his name. It was a cheerful sweet voice that he recognized instantly.....Bess!!
The surprised Englishman wheeled about and there she was, a fair haired sprite of a lass running towards the beloved man for whom she had been denied far to long. The laughing girl flung herself into his arms with such force Kane worried that she might have injured herself against his weapons. But then, with equal measures of surprise, he realized that his pistols, dirk, and long rapier were nowhere to be found.....and for the first time in many years.....he did not care.
Solomon Kane held Bess tightly and tried to kiss away the tears that appeared spontaneously on the girl's soft cheeks. Her heard himself promising over and over to never leave her again. He vowed that his restless days and nights of wandering and bloodletting were behind him forever.
Then, even in the midst of all this joy and reunion something terribly strange and unexplained began to occur. At first Kane noticed the freckled cheeks of Bess had undergone a subtle change. Although still just as smooth, the freckles vanished to be replaced by shades of deep golden bronze. The puritan could no longer feel the fabric of Bess's simple cotton dress. Nay, crushed against his chest now was the cool, abundant softness of supple naked breasts. The girl signed and began to breath heavily. With strong arms she pushed the puritan's head down towards her lurching bosom. His lips followed willingly, creating a trail of kisses down her beautiful neck. Then his eyes beheld something just an inch or two to the left of her right nipple.....an expertly crafted tattoo of a coiled serpent with tiny wicked eyes that gleamed with a bright green light.
With no slight effort Solomon Kane pushed the girl back and away. He straightened to his full height and looked full in the face of she whom so recently had appeared to be his beloved Bess. These eyes did not belong to that sweet lass from Devonshire. Rather they were huge dark pools that spoke to mysteries and ancient alchemies that lay infinitely beyond the innocence of an ordinary country maiden.
Kane recognized the incredibly beautiful face that stared back at him. His first impulse was to push her away and inquire as to the whereabouts of Bess. This thought melted away quicker than it was born. He felt the odd sensation of slipping into something of a trance-like state.
The naked bronze arms went about Kane's neck again and met no protest. The slightly built but powerful feminine perfection crushed its pure nakedness against the body of the aroused man and he was helpless to resist. She kissed his lips and her long tongue probed far beyond. Together their excited bodies entwined before collapsing onto the soft lush grass of the field.
Solomon Kane experienced fire and desire rushing through his veins unlike anything he'd ever known before. It was almost as if years of wandering, fighting, enduring, and denying had all led to this moment of intense volcanic eruption. Kane's mind shifted to an ecstatic state where he felt almost as one with the woman, wholly encompassed by wave after wave of carnal pleasures.
At this precise moment the Englishman began to hear the sound of female voices again...the same ones as before but louder and closer. They were soft but filled with youthful mischief and enthusiasm. He was curious as to their source and his mind shifted again.
Kane's eyes flashed open and he glared about himself with startled amazement. No longer was he making love in a flower scented field near fair Devon. Nay, he lay naked inside a large stone cistern that was filled to the brim with wonderfully warm water, strange healing herbs, and pleasingly scented perfumes. Nearby were two young girls, obviously attendants. They stared at him and smiled before giggling shyly. It had been their voices the puritan had heard. The girls gaped wide-eyed at the powerful lithe frame of the Englishman as he reposed naked in the invigorating bath.
Kane had not the slightest notion of how long he had been unconscious. It must have several hours....or was it days? At least he was certain this was no dream. Miraculously his strength and vigor seemed to have returned fully. He had no idea how this was possible so badly beaten and wounded he had been. The one thing that the puritan was not questioning was the fact that he was now somewhere beneath the crust of the earth. The circumstances that the gaunt Englishman had endured of late were equal parts bizarre and bewildering.
"Where are my clothes?" The modest adventurer asked before remembering that the smiling women could not possibly comprehend a world of English. Nonetheless, one of the girls approached Kane with a large clay cup in her outstretched hand. Kane inspected the cup carefully and smelled an aroma similar to herbal tea. He drained the cup and found the brew tasty, satisfying, and vaguely stimulating. The second girl drew near with a large heavy cloth.
"I suppose that must be for the purpose of drying myself," Kane noted.
The puritan hesitated for a few moments hoping the girls would take their leave. Then he reasoned logically that perhaps his modesty was misplaced here amongst these strange folk and their equally unique customs. He arose and stepped out of the bath before quietly accepting the efforts of the women to dry and groom him. Once the toweling was completed they massaged a wonderfully aromatic oil into his hard muscles. Lastly they used a colorfully painted comb fashioned from bone to shape his thick black mane.
Kane waited patiently while the unaccustomed pampering session continued. It was vanity to a fault to enjoy such proceedings yet to some degree he admitted to himself that it did bring a grain of pleasure to one who had known so little.
Somehow sensing that the devout puritan was rather uncomfortable with his nakedness, one of the girls darted away only to return quickly accompanied by a man. The couple brought with them all of Kane's belongings...his hat, clothes, the green oriental sash, his heavy leather boots, and surprisingly, his weapons. Even his empty wine flask, now refilled, his scant supply of powder and lead, and his pouch of meager food rations were laid respectfully at the tall man's feet.
His clothes had been cleaned and skillfully darned. In place of his destroyed, drab black shirt, was a newly made white tunic. Kane's boots had been stripped of any speck of dirt, mud, or blood. They had been heavily oiled and glistened like new.
Solomon Kane was both greatly pleased and humbled in kind. He managed a rare smile and uttered a word of thanks which his benefactors seemed to almost comprehend. He dressed as rapidly as possible. The swordsman yanked up and buttoned his black trousers and thought he heard the two young girls sigh slightly as if saddened by the loss of something. He considered the possibility that his thick powerful thews must have appeared astonishingly huge in comparison to those of their own slender built men.
Kane found the scent of fresh washed clothes a near forgotten and much welcome change. He carefully inspected his blades and found them undamaged. Like everything else they had been throughly cleaned. Then he meticulously loaded his heavy pistols. They appeared to be in perfect working order. Kane noticed that the stone cistern that served as his bath had been heated underneath by a oven-like device carved from sheer stone. He reckoned that it was an ancient but effective means to providing a warm and relaxing bath....provided the fire therein was kept small as it had been in his case.
Fully refreshed, dressed, and re-armed, the puritan was somewhat uncertain as to his next move. Would these people simply allow him to leave? If so, how would he find his way out? It was likely that this place was not overly far underground. He could still faintly hear the rumbling of the raging thunderstorm that had finally struck the jungle above. Kane scratched his chin and considered his options as the two females observed with huge dark eyes brimming with curiosity.
At that moment the sound of approaching footsteps accompanied by the signal from the odd melodic whistle announced special visitors to the bathhouse. The man that had brought Kane his belongings had doubtless returned to alert his superiors that their huge gaunt visitor was rested and ready for an audience. The two girl attendants immediately fell into a reverent prostrate position as the beautiful one entered the room at the head of various underlings and or assorted viziers.
Kane took quick appraisals of the various men that followed the princess. The puritan could only guess at their rank and station but it seemed reasonable to suspect that the ones adorned with the most gold were probably the more important of the crowd. Regardless, all appeared to defer to the woman.
She remained naked as before save for her jewelry and a long white garment draped over her slender shoulders, reaching within inches of the floor. This object of clothing featured an excess of gilded trim and was extremely well made....possibly it served some ceremonial function. The girl also wore a magnificent golden necklace and a delicate ivory crown in place of her headband. The crown was set with at least a dozen sparkling gems of considerable size. A retainer walked by her side carrying the mysterious glowing green rod that had eased the puritan into the realm of curious but vivid dreams. He marveled at the object and its obvious power, not the least of which was the ability to apparently heal. Altogether, the puritan found the display before him quite impressive and he was not one easily swayed by nobility or their fine airs.
The princess, for undoubtedly that's what she was, impatiently gestured and the curious dignitaries that has flooded the room hastily took their leave. Eventually only the noblewoman and four very serious looking soldiers remained. These four kept their hands near the bright yellow hilts of their long knives as well they should considering their positions as royal guardsmen.
The girls that had waited on Kane in the bath likewise hurried from the room although they had waited reverently as the ranking members of court left first. The prettier of the two who wore her hair in long braids glanced back over her shoulder and smiled fondly at the Englishman. Kane nodded slightly but did not return the bold girl's smile for fear of earning the disfavor of the princess. Noblewomen, no matter where they might be, generally sought to be the center of attention. The puritan saw no reason to suspect any exceptions to that rule would be found here or anywhere for that matter.
The princess walked up very near to Kane and appraised him for several moments at extremely close quarters. He watched the incredibly exotic creature's eyes intensely, only once daring to steal a glance at her ample young bosom. There was no tattoo of a green-eyed, coiled serpent. This gave much cause for the pallid Englishman to relax considerably.
The splendid, dark eyed beauty tapped her chest twice with her right hand, giving cause for her breasts to quiver quite wonderfully. "Neerininsia," she declared emphatically. She repeated this complicated phrase twice more whilst continuing to tap her chest. Kane was puzzled by this action momentarily but quickly grasped that she was attempting to impart her name to him.
"Ah, Neerininshia, " Kane repeated loudly and clearly as he bowed slightly. The girl's eyes flashed and she smiled at the Englishman, obviously much pleased. She then extended her hand towards the puritan until the soft tips of her fingers touched the deep chest of the swordsman. She allowed them to linger there.
Accepting the prompt, the puritan answered...."Kane," he said simply.
"Kane," the girl repeated, her fingers still touching the body of the hard muscled, lean Englishman.
Soon they left the bathhouse together, Solomon Kane walking at Neerininshia's side. She made no protest at his boldness.
<Solomon Kane left the confines of the bath walking at the side of Neerininshia. She moved gracefully and smelled wonderful. The grim swordsman was pleased that his own drab clothes and lean body were clean and well groomed. He allowed himself a wisp of vain pride as he walked with the beautiful queen of this strange underground world. He could only surmise as to their intentions but truly he had been treated very well. And, should they have some future transgression in the works......he was armed and at the ready. What else could a fighting man ask for save a fighting chance? Still, he scarcely felt threatened at all, and no man was more instinctively inclined to sense evil than Solomon Kane.
More than once Kane stole a fleeting glance at his companion. Apparently Neerininshia did likewise because their curious eyes met a number of times. These darting appraisals needed little explanation other than the woman was entirely lovely and the puritan was a pallid but strapping example of masculinity. Their walk might be best described as something of a tour conducted by an obviously proud regent. Kane found himself mesmerized by the great number of oddities and antiquities that he beheld at this time. They strolled through what was obviously a large and quite old underground compound, laboriously hewed by hand out of solid rock. The rooms they visited were spacious and ornate with a variety of multi-colored tapestries and large, expertly painted frescos. Kane was surprised to find most of these paintings featured scenes from the world above. There were renditions of sea bound boats, large birds and animals, snow capped mountains, and even a dense green jungle. Certainly this art indicated Neerininshia's people had not dwelt in the bowels of the earth forever. However, the lively frescos might have been much older than the puritan first supposed. In one palatial section of the underground palace artisans were busy retouching a beautiful scene featuring fabulous mermaids leaping about in some unknown sea.
They passed many large columns, also carved directly from the hard bedrock. The majority of these were etched with smaller carving of noble looking faces and indecipherable hieroglyphics. They continued past no less than three spectacular indoor fountains, lighted like everything else by the mysterious green globes, including some that were larger than a man could reach around. There were hundreds if not thousands of these glowing devices. Naturally these objects could not provide near the illumination that the sun could, but they served as more than adequate to defeat the unlivable state of cavern blackness.
Neerininshia stopped momentarily beside one especially attractive fountain. She and Kane stared into the cascading waters that sparkled wonderfully, reflecting the odd green light in a most mesmerizing fashion. The girl placed her hand underneath the spray and grinned childishly. "Ah princess," Kane offered, despite realizing she had no hope of comprehending, "I'm thinking this one is your favorite." Their eyes met and something was understood. She smiled and the puritan felt his heartbeat increase more than a little. He sensed there was some force at work here, something more powerful than a man could easily resist...if at all. Still, he returned the warm smile and found it an easy thing to do. He almost regretted this action, he could virtually hear Satan laughing in hell at the pious Englishman's foolishness in the presence of this nude, albeit splendid savage.
Eventually the little procession exited altogether the large palace and proceeded out onto a large pavilion. It was a change that proved very pleasing to the puritan's hard eyes. The pavilion had been paved with large flat stones all colored a luminescent shade of blue and seemingly polished with wax. The outermost edge of this colorful area was ringed with posts supporting more green orbs. To compliment this array was another of vigilant soldiers. Each man wore a metal helmet painted bright green. Besides the now familiar long knives these proud looking troops were equipped with well crafted, lethal javelins.
Kane realized the palace also served as a cleverly designed fortress. The pavilion was raised a good twenty feet off the floor of the massive cavern that these mysterious folk called home.
It was difficult for him to see beyond the palace grounds but Kane's keen eyes glimpsed slinking shadowy figures moving out near the murky edges at the far reaches of the artificial green light. Obviously these were the sub-human wretches that had initially found the puritan. He wondered as to the nature of the relationship between Neerininshia's more advanced race and the malformed fiends that shared at least some parts of this odd underground world. The puritan doubted that the two parties were on good terms......it seemed impossible.
The Pavilion contained a scattering of sculpted figures. One was very impressive in size and workmanship, a large stone hippopotamus with gleaming eyes made from well polished bronze. Kane studied this figure that he estimated as weighing in at twenty tons or more. "Seth," Neerininshia said before she and her retainers bowed deeply before the idol.
Solomon Kane was startled with curiosity. Seth was the name of an ancient Egyptian God.....was it possible that these people were descended from some lost cult of that race? He did not know and without knowledge of their tongue his questions would have to remain unanswered. The Englishman's naturally inquiring intellect was stimulated by the possibilities hinted at by this revelation. He had stumbled upon something utterly fascinating and undoubtedly significant from a historical perspective.
Kane's contemplation was interrupted by a retainer offering another cup of the sweet wine. As he accepted the drink the puritan was reminded of the fact that he was not only thirsty but quite hungry. He hadn't as yet had a proper meal. He wondered as to the diet of his hosts and whether and Englishman like himself would find it palatable or repulsive. Neerininshia seemed to sense Kane's thoughts and cut the tour short. All proceeded back inside the palace proper.
After several twists and turns they entered a largish, highly ornate room. The entire extent of the walls in these quarters were covered with intricately weaved tapestries. A plush and beautifully decorated rug lay upon the floor accompanied by an abundance of thick perfumed cushions. A very pleasing and refreshing incense also entered the puritan's nostrils. He quickly took note of a small but well stocked wine cabinet set into an enclave near one corner of the room. The bottles contained therein were made of glass made into a variety of shapes, including one formed in the shape of a hippopotamus in apparent reference to their deity.
Seated quietly near the door were three musicians. One held a flute, another an odd stringed instrument, and the third a pair of small drums. At a signal from Neerininshia the little orchestra began to play. The music was strange to Kane's ears but also very melodic and he felt himself relaxing to the sound. He was also surprised that only two guards entered the room with Kane and the queen. They took positions just inside the door and stared stoically at nothing. The Englishman could only take the light guard as a sign he was trusted by Neerininshia, and that she desired her time with the gaunt white man to be as private as possible.
Neerininshia motioned for her guest to be seated before she reclined onto a soft cushion. She stretched her magnificent naked body and smiled unashamed when she caught Kane observing her well toned legs with obvious interest. The pair were separated by only a small dais which held a plentiful supply of wine and a treat that the famished man devoured ravenously upon discovering it was a spicy and very delicious cake. He naturally yearned for meat but had no means of knowing whether his hosts had access to animals they could slaughter or hunt for food.
The pair listened to the delightful music and partook of a very significant amount of the strong wine. Due to the language barrier the couple sat in silence, communicating with gestures and their eyes. Then Neerininshia a bit unsteadily to her feet, stretched her lithe body again, and casually kicked away her sandals. She also removed he single item of clothing...the white cloak that had been draped over her slender and beautifully sculpted shoulders.
Then, to Solomon Kane's amazement, the luscious woman began to dance. The Englishman's eyes narrowed into slits and he dared no blink less he miss one instant of the woman's astonishing performance. As he observed her thusly, his strong heart began to pound and his breathing grew shallow if not labored.
The young girl Neerininshia was exceedingly graceful and athletic. She moved in rhythm to the music as if it were her body producing the pretty notes and not the instruments of the musicians. She undulated her stomach, gyrated her hips, and flexed her agile youthful limbs in well practiced bewitching motions. Her arms and hands glided flawlessly back and forth. The generous swell of her pliant breasts bobbled and quivered in hypnotizing patterns. The girl's taunt and quite powerful bronze thighs and buttocks lifted, swayed, and spun about fluidly. Neerininshia's huge deep and dark eyes rarely left Kane, and he could sense that she was well pleased by the effect produced by her efforts. The Englishman's powerful chest heaved and dropped in fitful stops and starts. He could not help but wonder if the girl was not in fact a sorceress drawing him into a mysterious spell that might soon be utterly inescapable. Kane too another long drink of the sweet wine. It was impossible to lie to himself. Whatever Neerininshia was doing....he did not want to escape her magic.
The music paused and Neerininshia ceased weaving her sorcery. She went to Kane and collapsed beside him panting breathlessly and perspiring slightly. Now they were not separated by the dais. She took another sip of wine before laughing and suddenly laying her head against the muscular chest of the startled puritan.
He made no effort to push her away. Instead he glanced upwards for a fleeting moment. "Forgive me for my moments of weakness," Kane said before placing his arm around the girl's slim shoulders and gently massaging the incredibly tender flesh on Neerininshia's back. In turn, her little soft hands stroked the powerful thigh of the amazed swordsman.
At this point Kane entertained more than a passing thought of placing a kiss upon the girl's perfectly formed lips when a man appeared in the doorway and made a brief announcement before quickly taking his leave. Neerininshia seemed delighted at this new development. She squeezed on her guest's great hands and made an eating motion. "Ah," Kane said. "At last dinner is served."
if you want to read more of this old novella I wrote years ago let me know...thanks for reading
One such man was called Solomon Kane. He was a restless wanderer, a seeker of adventure, a fierce fighter, and an entirely complex man. Many things had been said or whispered of Kane but there were two truths that no one would dispute. He was one of the greatest and most feared swordsmen that the British Isles ever produced and he was a religious fanatic following the way of the puritan.
Of course many also called him mad. This was a rumor that Kane himself could not dispute entirely. The true purpose behind many of his travels and the red deeds he performed were a mystery even unto the man himself. To relate to you now the tale of one of his most astounding adventures we must travel back through the mists of time to the ominous dark expanse that was Africa. Back to the oppressive heat of that day in the year 1582......and the sound of the drums.
The thundering beat increased in tempo and intensity. The nearly naked horde of ebony skinned tribesmen chanted loudly and beat their spears against the hard ground. Their bodies glistened with streams of steaming sweat as they swayed and moaned to the ancient, foreboding beat. A mass of undulating limbs moved in rhythm as a ritual nearly as old as man himself was played out. Quivering bright ostrich feathers adored heads and bodies that lurched with primal anticipation.
The tall gaunt white man cursed and spat at his captors. He strained unceasingly against the stout ropes that bound him to a heavy pole, one set deep in the sun baked earth. The murderous fire that glowed in his icy steel gray eyes gave cause for the warriors standing guard to grip their iron tipped spears with nervous alertness.
The white man's clothes had been reduced to tattered rags and he bled from a dozen wounds. He gave no thought to any of this, but only that he must break free and somehow bring to a halt the ghastly tribal ritual occurring just before his infuriated eyes.
The white woman was beautiful despite the dirt and tears that marred her delicately chiseled features. Her clothing had been ripped away and her fragile skin glowed an angry red beneath the merciless African sun that beat down relentlessly.
She lay sobbing faintly, face down on the ground. The girl was bound to a rough hewed pole by abrasive bindings, ropes that cut deeply into her tender, sorely blistered flesh every time she attempted to move.
Two great, heavily muscled black warriors positioned themselves on either side of the helpless girl. With scant little effort they grasped the pole in their powerful hands and hoisted the slight girl's body to a vertical position. She cried out with pain and began to sob louder. Her full naked breasts swayed and heaved with terror. She made weak pleading noises as the two men carried her up a crude earthen ramp. They paused at the apex of the ramp as the drums continued to pound with an ever increasing frenzy.
The edge of the primitive ramp pushed up against a very large clay cistern filled with boiling water. The smoke from the fire beneath floated lazily upwards and away. The white man cursed with renewed vigor and struggled mightily against his binds even as sharp spear points pricked at his flesh, creating fresh wounds. The veins in his neck stood out as if they were about to burst. Still, the man could do little else save bear witness to the cruel events occurring only a few yards away.
With a precision perfected by much practice the two burly sweating warriors held their burden over the steaming hot water. Inch by agonizing inch they lowered the woman feet first until her toes were partly immersed in the steaming hot liquid. Despite her exhaustion, the girl screamed from this new and unbearable pain. She frantically tossed her head back and forth, giving cause for her long blond tresses to fly about wildly. This action seemed to fuel the mad frenzy of the savages and many yelped excitedly. Indeed, one or two of the elderly amongst the horde fainted from lurid anticipation at that precise moment.
The white man's protests became little more than dust choked gasps as his strong voice faltered. He might have cried at that moment had his body held sufficient fluids to make tears. It did not.
The helpless girl was lowered still more until the boiling water struck her at mid calf. The odor of cooking flesh reached the nostrils of the horrified white man and he vomited the meager contents of his stomach. His struggles were now reduced to little more than a battle to merely remain conscious.
The powerful ebony duo lifted the woman's body from the terrible cistern even as pieces of flesh fell off her tortured limbs and back into the pink stained liquid. Then cold water was splashed onto the face of the hapless victim until she revived sufficiently to re-enter what had truly become for her a waking nightmare. She shut her eyes in an expression of hopelessness but not before fixing her gaze for the briefest moment on the white man. Then she moaned from the intense agony as her captors hastily transported her back up the ramp. The drums thundered and the loud chanting droned on as the screaming blond woman was held over the steaming cooking pot yet again, only tilted head down this time.
As the tips of the young white girl's golden tresses sizzled and popped on making contact with the boiling water, the white man once again found his voice. He screamed with all the anger, agony, and stark mad indignation that his mighty frame could muster.
Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*
Solomon Kane wakened screaming. His violent thrashing about came perilously near to hurling the puritan off the wide limb where he'd slumbered for one or two fitful hours. The lofty perch had seemed safe enough from the roaming beasts below but it had provided scarce protection from..........."A cursed nightmare sent by Satan himself to plague my scant rest," the gaunt Englishman mumbled to himself. "Yet it has no power over the conscious mind."
Kane utilized his great agility to scamper down from the tree that had served as a place of repose. By the time his boots hit solid ground the puritan's usual steely composure had returned entirely. As always, his first concern was to examine his weapons. This thought was almost immediately replaced by another. Out there somewhere an ominous rumbling had commenced and it was uncomfortably close.
"The drums," Kane whispered almost reverently. His hard gained experience on the Dark Continent had long since taught him exactly what this particular rhythm meant. Once again the fierce ebony tribesmen had picked up the dark clad Englishman's trail. The drums spoke to a hunt....and the prey was a white man!
The puritan swordsman was reminded of the terrible nightmare. "The dream was meant to rouse me from my deep slumber. It was a warning it seems, and one for which I am most humbly grateful."
The gaunt, grim faced adventurer lowered his head for a quick prayer of thanks before taking full flight against the thinly veiled light of the breaking dawn.
The Dark Continent has ever been a dangerous, unconquered land. During the sixteenth century it could truthfully be said that this wholly untamed expanse was nothing if not a singular, unending wave of peril upon peril. The landless wanderer Solomon Kane had learned this simple fact only to well. He glided from tree to tree, bush to bush, like a skittish panther. It was a tribute to the Englishman's uncommon stamina, keen intellect, and graceful agility that he managed to somehow stay at least one step ahead of the fearsome West African warriors who pursued their gaunt prey with relentless, unwavering zeal. It was almost as if they saw the white man as a cancer that must be purged from the flesh that was the Dark Continent.
Ever mindful of concealing his tall frame whenever possible, Kane cautiously entered a copse covered morass of decaying vegetation, tangled vines, and chattering monkeys. Confident that he was safely hidden for the moment, the swordsman paused and sat beneath a great fig tree, a tree that provided easily obtained nutrition for the curious monkeys. There the puritan gnawed a mouthful of dried meat and took a sip from the small wine flask he carried tucked into his glimmering green oriental sash. Briefly he thought to perhaps shoot one of the monkeys and enjoy a meal of fresh meat. This idea was quickly brushed aside because the risks of making such a noise were simply to great. A shot might carry to the ears of his enemy, not a prospect Kane relished. Thus resigned, the harried puritan rested.
Solomon Kane did not linger long nor did he need to so great was his vast endurance and remarkable vigor. A half-hour of repose for the strangely pallid swordsman served to refresh him far more than a three or four hour respite would rest ordinary men. The striking figure clad all in drab black had been called many things during his tumultuous life, but not a single person had ever mouthed the word ordinary in describing the somber puritan fanatic.
The broad expanse of Africa's skies had been mostly unclouded that day but the occasional clap of distant thunder prompted Kane to acknowledge that better shelter than what a mere tree could provide would be a welcomed sight. A stormy night complete with potentially deadly lightening and cold heavy rain would plague a man most sorely should he be caught out in the open.
Thus Solomon Kane rose to his feet and peered in every direction through the deep set slits of his hard gray eyes. He sought in this fashion to detect anything amiss or unusual ere he took so much as one step. These simple precautions had served him well, the proof being he remained as yet amongst the living. Still, he noted nothing threatening, no great prowling beasts or poisonous reptiles slithering about, and thankfully, no proud but malevolent headhunters lurking in the bush.
All the same the Dark Continent held many evils well hidden, secret unknowns that awaited any man brave or foolish enough to test his survival skills against unmerciful raw nature. Kane had taken no more than a half-dozen carefully calculated steps upon parting from beneath the shade of the great fig tree when the very earth beneath his heavy boots suddenly gave way! The puritan felt his body fall, arms flailing against empty space for a horrifyingly long instant. Just as suddenly he slammed with great force against a hard surface. The impetus from the long fall and a glancing blow to the head thanks to some unknown object instantly hurled the surprised adventurer into the blackness of unconsciousness.
The Englishman gradually awakened to a world filled with pain, confusion, and blurred visual images. His head throbbed like a searing hot kettle being pounded upon by a giant wielding a great hammer. As Kane struggled to lift himself to a sitting position, he vigorously massaged his eyes and neck until the objects before him began to slowly re-define themselves with more clarity. Most men would have cursed their foul luck after falling into what appeared to be a natural chasm. Kane was silent. If anything he considered himself fortunate that it was not a man made pit.....one that might soon be ringed by hate filled ebony faces. In his haste he had failed to make a more careful study of the ground on which he walked. Had he been more vigilant perhaps he might have noticed that it was not solid ground that he had attempted to traverse. Kane rubbed his face and considered yet another hard lesson learned.
Other than a rather smallish boulder and scattered debris mostly consisting of leaves and rotten twigs, the Englishman was utterly alone......and apparently trapped.
Kane continued to massage his throbbing temples as he hauled himself up sufficently to assume a sitting position upon the solitary boulder. Looking upwards the puritan could see the hole his body had created as it plunged through the leafy vines and plants that had grown over the maw of the pit. At least a goodly measure of daylight was thusly admitted into what otherwise would have been an environment of shrouded darkness. The swordsman sat and attempted to gather himself. He found his shapeless black hat and placed it on his throbbing head. Then Kane meticulously inspected his weapons to ascertain as to whether they had received damage during the unexpected fall. He was relieved to find his pistols, long rapier, and lethal dirk all in good working order. However, the puritan reasoned quite logically that an armed man trapped in a deep hole was scarcely better off than an unarmed man that likewise found himself in a deep hole.
The Englishman found his wine flask and was grateful that it held one last, good swallow. The warm fluid served to hasten the surging return of the puritan's legendary strength. Still, he continued to sit in deep contemplation regarding his current and altogether dire situation. Despite the pain and bruising he had no broken bones so far as he could tell. Off in the distance the thunder continued sporadically. In turn, this sound was answered by the rumbling roar of some magnificent lion located in the not so distant bush.
Depending on location, the sheer rock walls of the pit rose between twenty-five to almost thirty feet from the floor of the crevice. There appeared to Kane's sharp eyes less than nothing that might serve as a hand or foothold should an effort be made to climb out of the bowels of the earth and back into the world above. A spider or perhaps even a clever monkey could scramble out of such a cursed trap but Solomon Kane could not envision a man accomplishing such a daunting task.
The pit was nothing if not deep and spacious. The whole of the crevice was formed into something similar to the shape of wedge. Kane, sitting on his boulder throne, was located within the larger section of the triangle whereas the farther end of the pit narrowed to a murky point that lay cloaked by impenetrable darkness. The quickly fading daylight that filtered through from above was inadequate in respect to enabling a visual inspection of the entire surroundings from his present position. After a bit more rest the puritan determined to further explore the narrowed end of the pit. Kane found some renewed hope creeping back into his psyche. It was not totally out of the question that he might yet find means of escaping his new prison, albeit that means be hidden from his probing eye for the moment.
Stiff, bruised muscles protested adamantly as Kane stood and made ready to investigate the more shrouded areas of the pit. It was precisely then that he made the startling discovery that he was not entirely alone after all. At first he noticed the smell, the foul stench of putrid, unclean.....things.
The puritan frowned as the repulsive odor seemed to gather strength. Suddenly he realized that the narrow darkened area of the chasm was not enclosed at all. Evidently the ever increasing and entirely offensive odor emanated from some well concealed opening that lay just beyond the black maw that stretched before him. Kane's hand went immediately to the hilt of his rapier and he stood unblinking, straining his eyes as he peered into the mysterious area of opaque shadows and sheer blackness that lay so ominously nearby. And then he began to see them.
They slowly appeared, creeping with an almost imperceptible deliberateness. Kane could only guess as to what they were. Indeed they seemed almost human-like as they emerged from the inky darkness. However, it was just as true that they were wholly unlike any form of man that the puritan had ever encountered......and Solomon Kane had traveled far. They smelled of rotting flesh and their skin, mostly covered in festering sores, was dusky in color though not black like the native African. The things crept with an unsteady gait on gnarled and malformed limbs. Most were naked save for a few filthy and ragged loincloths. They were bald with the exception of occasional wisps of long and unkempt black hair. To the Englishman they seemed not unlike a foul demonic horde unleashed from the womb of hell but he held his ground unwavering.
The grim faced puritan instantly perceived the unsightly creatures to have malevolent intentions. As the pit filled with the stinking mutations, Kane saw not even one that didn't carry some type of weapon, woefully crude and primitive though they were. A few held heavy wooden clubs, others wielded nasty shards of jagged volcanic glass, and many simply carried a heavy stone....held high, poised for throwing or bashing. Primitive weapons true enough but Kane knew of nowhere that it was written a weapon must be sophisticated to kill a man.
Kane held his rapier and a pistol at the ready. He made an effort to speak to the diseased things by means of a few native dialects the clever puritan had learned from the friendly river peoples. The only response this elicited from the wretches was a whining nonsensical gibberish that could surely not be classified as language by any sane linguist. The Englishman backed away until he felt the sheer wall of rock at his back. There were perhaps nearly two dozen of the filthy, hunchbacked fiends. The puritan debated with himself as to what he detested most, the dreadsome stench of the sub-humans or their dark misshapened flesh that, to the swordsman, seemed the product of some cruel jest by the greater powers that ruled over all evil.
The gaunt puritan soon found himself surrounded. The creatures commenced their gibberish anew with all joining in and screeching loudly to the point of bringing pain to Solomon Kane's ears. He instinctively recognized the noise as a probable diversion, and truly most men would have felt wholly unsettled by all the racket. However Kane's eyes became tiny slits and he merely steeled himself all the more to the threat of battle. He was a man seemingly born to be a fighter and the prospects thereof did little to instill fear in the swordsman. He was as ready as ever....granted the odds left scant chance of survival. Still, some have whispered that death itself was afraid of the strange puritan with the cold hard eyes the color of bright steel.
The noise made by the creatures reached a screeching crescendo until Solomon Kane's quick eyes glimpsed a heavy bludgeon coming swiftly at his already throbbing head. The long rapier flashed like a lightening stroke and the arm of the club wielder was severed cleanly at the elbow. The thing fell back screaming, its over-sized eyes agape in horror at the sight of the blackish fluid spurting from the stump where its arms had so recently been attached. Kane cared not as he fired his pistol directly into the face of another grotesque assailant. The face dissolved into a ghastly red ruin and its owner fell dead, entangling momentarily the feet of a number of his companions.
The deadly Englishman had hoped that the report and effect of the shot might give cause for the attackers to flee en mass, as sometimes occurred when primitive peoples were exposed to gunfire for the first time. Alas, the shot did not have this effect. Rather, it seemed to increase the rage of the foul mob. The puritan noticed some clasped their hands over their largish ears which appeared to be nearly as sensitive as a normal man's. However, they hesitated for less than an instant before pressing the attack on Kane with a renewed energy.
A heavy stone crashed against the gaunt swordsman's shoulder and he staggered back but quickly recovered. Kane's rapier bit again, making a sickening sucking sound as he withdrew it from where it had plunged, deep into the chest of the rock thrower. The Englishman caught a quick glance at shriveled breasts on the dying fiend, obviously even the females had joined the fray. The struggling puritan doubted not that there were more women amongst the foe but he had not the time or inclination to differentiate as he slashed and dodged expertly.
The filthy horde came on with increasing boldness despite their losses. Kane discharged his second pistol but his aim was slightly askew due to an emaciated hand that yanked at the puritan's arm with surprising strength. Nevertheless, the bullet clipped a nose off and splattered blood into the eyes of its former host. The puritan soon found himself near suffocated by the sheer numbers of the underground dwellers. The rapier had become less than useless at such close quarters. Thus he reluctantly allowed it to slip from his grasp and fought on with his short dirk and one of his heavy pistols, which now served him well at close quarters as an effective bludgeon.
One leering, especially twisted face flashed just before Kane's. At the last possible instance, before the thing could dash out the puritan's brains with a heavy stone, its own skull was split open by means of a crashing blow with the pistol. The Englishman sensed that might have been his final victory as his mighty frame was slowly pressed back and down beneath the sheer weight of the stinking dark horde. Multiple blows rained down on the struggling swordsman and jagged sharp objects tore at his flesh. Still, he continued to fight on with indomitable will, striking with elbows, lashing out with the heels of his boots, and jabbing with the dirk until he felt it jarred from his hand by another blow from a jagged stone.
Solomon Kane felt his consciousness begin to wane as the depraved mass pressed against his chest making it impossible to breath. With a final effort born of mad fury Kane clutched a scrawny throat and dug his fingernails deep into the leathery flesh even as the gurgling thing spat blood and attempted with failed desperation to claw at the instrument of its fast approaching doom.
The Englishman knew that his own end was near as well. The darkness closed in rapidly and surely his fate was sealed..........but! What?
A piercing, wailing noise filled the pit. It was not unlike a loud whistle, yet at the same time there was a melodic mixture of oddly combined notes contained within the sound. The great weight pressing upon Kane suddenly fell away save for two or three unmoving bodies that were most certainly dead. The puritan was scarcely able to realize his amazement as he pushed and kicked feebly until his trembling and battered body was free from all impediment. Despite reeling near the verge of fainting Kane gasped and panted to regain his breath. Come what might he was grateful for the opportunity to suck air back into his deprived lungs. The foul stench of the attackers remained but the puritan somehow deciphered the fact that the foul creatures had taken sudden flight....but why? And what had been the source of the strange sound?
Solomon Kane blinked and employed his tattered sleeve to wipe the sweat, blood, and gore away from his eyes. This served to make his vision marginally better but did nothing to explain what his volcanic gray eyes revealed. The puritan wondered as to whether or not he might already be dead. Through a blurry haze of whirling mist he saw, or thought he saw, several large greenish orbs that floated before him in a bright, slightly wavering pattern. He could make no sense of it.
Solomon Kane continued to blink and rub at his eyes as his breaths settled, becoming much less desperate and ragged. Fresh air flooded his lately oxygen denied brain and the puritan forced himself upright despite the pain that screamed out at even the slightest movement. Whereas it could truly be said that the gaunt wanderer had seen many astonishing sights during his life, perhaps nothing had prepared him for the startling visions he glimpsed next.
The glowing green orbs were apparently some remarkable kind of torch. They were seated atop an apparatus consisting of a bowl with a wooden rod underneath. These rods were held high in the hands of a very unusual people entirely unlike the depraved sub-human species that had tried to kill the Englishman.
While they had the dusky complexions and over-sized eyes and ears of the stinking, primitive wretches, here were men as noble in build and expression as any that lived above the crust of the earth. These men were slender in build but not at all malnourished. They wore clean white skirts that fell very nearly to their knees. About their waists were bright red girdles that appeared to be gilded with gold! Above their large dark eyes were thin gold headbands. Kane could tell little about the color and texture of their hair due their simple headdresses fashioned from more of the clean white cloth. Upon their feet were well made sandals produced from the fibers of some reed like plant. Red strings snaked about their ankles in a complex fashion, attaching the sandals to the wearer.
Kane instantly noted the simple scabbards hanging from the gilded waistbands. These scabbards held long knives adorned with handles painted a bright yellow. Two or three of these mysterious figures held no green globes but the long knives instead. They studied the puritan with eyes that spoke to intelligence and many questions. However, Kane did not sense anything overtly threatening in the sensible defensive poses of these odd warriors. It seemed wholly probable that they were as astonished by Kane as he was by them.
The Englishman sat with has aching back against the solid rock wall of the pit. He found himself wondering about the source of the power within the green orbs. Perhaps they were simply objects of green glass that held a bright candle inside?
These musings were instantly forgotten as the newcomers parted ranks to allow an utterly stunning figure to make her way forward. Solomon Kane sat seemingly as calm as before but within his mighty chest his heart began to pound from a rush of pure adrenalin.
In a word she was beautiful, exquisitely beautiful in all respects. No language could do adequate justice to the vision that stood only scant feet away from the puritan. She was slight in build like the men but quite tall, standing just under six feet. Her skin was a deep golden hue like polished bronze and completely flawless. The smoothness and glow of her flesh was truly startling. Solomon Kane could swear good witness to this simple truth because the young woman was every bit as naked as she was noble.
She wore nothing save a gleaming gold headband, ivory and gold earrings, a gold chain about her supple waist, and sandals covered with leopard hide.
The girl's hair was a shimmering, sheer black. It was very long indeed, hanging nearly to glorious mid thigh. Her over-sized dark eyes mesmerized the puritan. They were deep, mysterious, and altogether magnificent. They seemed to penetrate him, seeking out his very essence if not his soul. The Englishman could take his eyes off hers only with difficulty. However this he did so in order to drink in the loveliness of her perfectly sculpted full lips and the very generous slope of her breasts. The tender tauntness of her stomach was accentuated by a large ruby set into her navel. The thick black denseness of her pubic mound appeared pleasingly groomed.
Despite the pounding his body had taken the puritan's pride demanded that he stand or at the very least attempt to do so. This simple chore proved to be much easier thought than accomplished unfortunately. The gaunt Englishman's limbs were plagued by pain and unaccustomed weakness. He remained still for a moment, determined to try again and all the harder, as soon as the cursed swoon he felt passed. He became dully aware that he was bleeding, and quite profusely.
The woman pointed at Kane and spoke a few words in a tongue that was completely alien to the puritan. Almost instantly a male retainer was at the Englishman's side offering him a decanter filled with some unknown but aromatic fluid.
Solomon Kane sniffed at the container suspiciously. The aroma was very fresh and sweet, and immensely appealing. He decided to throw caution to the wind and appease the pleas of his sorely parched lips and throat. The dryness thereof was unbearable even for the grim puritan. He took a tentative sip and found the liquid to be some sort of very appealing wine. Kane proceeded to drain the remainder of the drink.
The Englishman licked his lips in appreciation as the fluid spread through his limbs and lessened their aching considerably. He thought to make a second attempt at standing when the golden skinned princess edged closer until her sleek frame was less than a yard from where Kane sat. Someone passed her a rod about two feet in length. Unbelievably the object glowed with the same shimmering green light that emanated from the strange orbs.
The supple female knelt slightly and smiled beautifully. She spoke in an incomprehensible but soothing tone, with a voice that echoed like fine music. She held the queer rod out as if she wanted the Englishman to touch it.
Solomon Kane did not feel at all any sense of peril. He barely noticed the thunder that crashed above, nor did he take much note that it sounded much closer than before. The drink had steadied him. He even felt slightly giddy, something ordinary wine almost never managed to do no matter how much he drank. Such was the puritan's great stamina.
The lovely woman, a vision that literally encompassed all that a man desired in the form of a female, leaned even closer with the curious rod extended towards Kane. He sensed that she wanted him to take the thing from her hand. He made as if to grasp it, but ever vigilant, the Englishman choose to first barely brush the brightly glowing object with his fingertips.
Kane immediately felt a vague jolt followed by a warm tingling sensation in his hand. This odd feeling almost instantly spread throughout his battered body creating a warm numbing. For a few brief moments he felt something akin to pleasure before slumping forward, totally enveloped in blackness.
Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y**Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*
Solomon Kane was not a man who dreamed often but now he did. He smelled flowers and heard soft feminine voices. He could plainly hear the pleasing sound of gently churning waters not unlike the simple noises a little country stream might make.
Kane felt himself drifting along with the sounds of this merry natural brook. Suddenly the puritan realized that he had somehow traversed the great distances and returned to the English countryside and a fair land known as Devon.
The puritan had returned home. He saw the stream and discovered that he was in fact lying beside it. He rose without the slightest pain and walked into a vast field, one lit brightly by a magnificently glowing sun. Everywhere he looked gay, multi-colored wildflowers grew in abundance. Their odor pleased his nostrils. As he strolled about with limbs that felt amazingly light, Kane heard someone nearby calling his name. It was a cheerful sweet voice that he recognized instantly.....Bess!!
The surprised Englishman wheeled about and there she was, a fair haired sprite of a lass running towards the beloved man for whom she had been denied far to long. The laughing girl flung herself into his arms with such force Kane worried that she might have injured herself against his weapons. But then, with equal measures of surprise, he realized that his pistols, dirk, and long rapier were nowhere to be found.....and for the first time in many years.....he did not care.
Solomon Kane held Bess tightly and tried to kiss away the tears that appeared spontaneously on the girl's soft cheeks. Her heard himself promising over and over to never leave her again. He vowed that his restless days and nights of wandering and bloodletting were behind him forever.
Then, even in the midst of all this joy and reunion something terribly strange and unexplained began to occur. At first Kane noticed the freckled cheeks of Bess had undergone a subtle change. Although still just as smooth, the freckles vanished to be replaced by shades of deep golden bronze. The puritan could no longer feel the fabric of Bess's simple cotton dress. Nay, crushed against his chest now was the cool, abundant softness of supple naked breasts. The girl signed and began to breath heavily. With strong arms she pushed the puritan's head down towards her lurching bosom. His lips followed willingly, creating a trail of kisses down her beautiful neck. Then his eyes beheld something just an inch or two to the left of her right nipple.....an expertly crafted tattoo of a coiled serpent with tiny wicked eyes that gleamed with a bright green light.
With no slight effort Solomon Kane pushed the girl back and away. He straightened to his full height and looked full in the face of she whom so recently had appeared to be his beloved Bess. These eyes did not belong to that sweet lass from Devonshire. Rather they were huge dark pools that spoke to mysteries and ancient alchemies that lay infinitely beyond the innocence of an ordinary country maiden.
Kane recognized the incredibly beautiful face that stared back at him. His first impulse was to push her away and inquire as to the whereabouts of Bess. This thought melted away quicker than it was born. He felt the odd sensation of slipping into something of a trance-like state.
The naked bronze arms went about Kane's neck again and met no protest. The slightly built but powerful feminine perfection crushed its pure nakedness against the body of the aroused man and he was helpless to resist. She kissed his lips and her long tongue probed far beyond. Together their excited bodies entwined before collapsing onto the soft lush grass of the field.
Solomon Kane experienced fire and desire rushing through his veins unlike anything he'd ever known before. It was almost as if years of wandering, fighting, enduring, and denying had all led to this moment of intense volcanic eruption. Kane's mind shifted to an ecstatic state where he felt almost as one with the woman, wholly encompassed by wave after wave of carnal pleasures.
At this precise moment the Englishman began to hear the sound of female voices again...the same ones as before but louder and closer. They were soft but filled with youthful mischief and enthusiasm. He was curious as to their source and his mind shifted again.
Kane's eyes flashed open and he glared about himself with startled amazement. No longer was he making love in a flower scented field near fair Devon. Nay, he lay naked inside a large stone cistern that was filled to the brim with wonderfully warm water, strange healing herbs, and pleasingly scented perfumes. Nearby were two young girls, obviously attendants. They stared at him and smiled before giggling shyly. It had been their voices the puritan had heard. The girls gaped wide-eyed at the powerful lithe frame of the Englishman as he reposed naked in the invigorating bath.
Kane had not the slightest notion of how long he had been unconscious. It must have several hours....or was it days? At least he was certain this was no dream. Miraculously his strength and vigor seemed to have returned fully. He had no idea how this was possible so badly beaten and wounded he had been. The one thing that the puritan was not questioning was the fact that he was now somewhere beneath the crust of the earth. The circumstances that the gaunt Englishman had endured of late were equal parts bizarre and bewildering.
"Where are my clothes?" The modest adventurer asked before remembering that the smiling women could not possibly comprehend a world of English. Nonetheless, one of the girls approached Kane with a large clay cup in her outstretched hand. Kane inspected the cup carefully and smelled an aroma similar to herbal tea. He drained the cup and found the brew tasty, satisfying, and vaguely stimulating. The second girl drew near with a large heavy cloth.
"I suppose that must be for the purpose of drying myself," Kane noted.
The puritan hesitated for a few moments hoping the girls would take their leave. Then he reasoned logically that perhaps his modesty was misplaced here amongst these strange folk and their equally unique customs. He arose and stepped out of the bath before quietly accepting the efforts of the women to dry and groom him. Once the toweling was completed they massaged a wonderfully aromatic oil into his hard muscles. Lastly they used a colorfully painted comb fashioned from bone to shape his thick black mane.
Kane waited patiently while the unaccustomed pampering session continued. It was vanity to a fault to enjoy such proceedings yet to some degree he admitted to himself that it did bring a grain of pleasure to one who had known so little.
Somehow sensing that the devout puritan was rather uncomfortable with his nakedness, one of the girls darted away only to return quickly accompanied by a man. The couple brought with them all of Kane's belongings...his hat, clothes, the green oriental sash, his heavy leather boots, and surprisingly, his weapons. Even his empty wine flask, now refilled, his scant supply of powder and lead, and his pouch of meager food rations were laid respectfully at the tall man's feet.
His clothes had been cleaned and skillfully darned. In place of his destroyed, drab black shirt, was a newly made white tunic. Kane's boots had been stripped of any speck of dirt, mud, or blood. They had been heavily oiled and glistened like new.
Solomon Kane was both greatly pleased and humbled in kind. He managed a rare smile and uttered a word of thanks which his benefactors seemed to almost comprehend. He dressed as rapidly as possible. The swordsman yanked up and buttoned his black trousers and thought he heard the two young girls sigh slightly as if saddened by the loss of something. He considered the possibility that his thick powerful thews must have appeared astonishingly huge in comparison to those of their own slender built men.
Kane found the scent of fresh washed clothes a near forgotten and much welcome change. He carefully inspected his blades and found them undamaged. Like everything else they had been throughly cleaned. Then he meticulously loaded his heavy pistols. They appeared to be in perfect working order. Kane noticed that the stone cistern that served as his bath had been heated underneath by a oven-like device carved from sheer stone. He reckoned that it was an ancient but effective means to providing a warm and relaxing bath....provided the fire therein was kept small as it had been in his case.
Fully refreshed, dressed, and re-armed, the puritan was somewhat uncertain as to his next move. Would these people simply allow him to leave? If so, how would he find his way out? It was likely that this place was not overly far underground. He could still faintly hear the rumbling of the raging thunderstorm that had finally struck the jungle above. Kane scratched his chin and considered his options as the two females observed with huge dark eyes brimming with curiosity.
At that moment the sound of approaching footsteps accompanied by the signal from the odd melodic whistle announced special visitors to the bathhouse. The man that had brought Kane his belongings had doubtless returned to alert his superiors that their huge gaunt visitor was rested and ready for an audience. The two girl attendants immediately fell into a reverent prostrate position as the beautiful one entered the room at the head of various underlings and or assorted viziers.
Kane took quick appraisals of the various men that followed the princess. The puritan could only guess at their rank and station but it seemed reasonable to suspect that the ones adorned with the most gold were probably the more important of the crowd. Regardless, all appeared to defer to the woman.
She remained naked as before save for her jewelry and a long white garment draped over her slender shoulders, reaching within inches of the floor. This object of clothing featured an excess of gilded trim and was extremely well made....possibly it served some ceremonial function. The girl also wore a magnificent golden necklace and a delicate ivory crown in place of her headband. The crown was set with at least a dozen sparkling gems of considerable size. A retainer walked by her side carrying the mysterious glowing green rod that had eased the puritan into the realm of curious but vivid dreams. He marveled at the object and its obvious power, not the least of which was the ability to apparently heal. Altogether, the puritan found the display before him quite impressive and he was not one easily swayed by nobility or their fine airs.
The princess, for undoubtedly that's what she was, impatiently gestured and the curious dignitaries that has flooded the room hastily took their leave. Eventually only the noblewoman and four very serious looking soldiers remained. These four kept their hands near the bright yellow hilts of their long knives as well they should considering their positions as royal guardsmen.
The girls that had waited on Kane in the bath likewise hurried from the room although they had waited reverently as the ranking members of court left first. The prettier of the two who wore her hair in long braids glanced back over her shoulder and smiled fondly at the Englishman. Kane nodded slightly but did not return the bold girl's smile for fear of earning the disfavor of the princess. Noblewomen, no matter where they might be, generally sought to be the center of attention. The puritan saw no reason to suspect any exceptions to that rule would be found here or anywhere for that matter.
The princess walked up very near to Kane and appraised him for several moments at extremely close quarters. He watched the incredibly exotic creature's eyes intensely, only once daring to steal a glance at her ample young bosom. There was no tattoo of a green-eyed, coiled serpent. This gave much cause for the pallid Englishman to relax considerably.
The splendid, dark eyed beauty tapped her chest twice with her right hand, giving cause for her breasts to quiver quite wonderfully. "Neerininsia," she declared emphatically. She repeated this complicated phrase twice more whilst continuing to tap her chest. Kane was puzzled by this action momentarily but quickly grasped that she was attempting to impart her name to him.
"Ah, Neerininshia, " Kane repeated loudly and clearly as he bowed slightly. The girl's eyes flashed and she smiled at the Englishman, obviously much pleased. She then extended her hand towards the puritan until the soft tips of her fingers touched the deep chest of the swordsman. She allowed them to linger there.
Accepting the prompt, the puritan answered...."Kane," he said simply.
"Kane," the girl repeated, her fingers still touching the body of the hard muscled, lean Englishman.
Soon they left the bathhouse together, Solomon Kane walking at Neerininshia's side. She made no protest at his boldness.
<Solomon Kane left the confines of the bath walking at the side of Neerininshia. She moved gracefully and smelled wonderful. The grim swordsman was pleased that his own drab clothes and lean body were clean and well groomed. He allowed himself a wisp of vain pride as he walked with the beautiful queen of this strange underground world. He could only surmise as to their intentions but truly he had been treated very well. And, should they have some future transgression in the works......he was armed and at the ready. What else could a fighting man ask for save a fighting chance? Still, he scarcely felt threatened at all, and no man was more instinctively inclined to sense evil than Solomon Kane.
More than once Kane stole a fleeting glance at his companion. Apparently Neerininshia did likewise because their curious eyes met a number of times. These darting appraisals needed little explanation other than the woman was entirely lovely and the puritan was a pallid but strapping example of masculinity. Their walk might be best described as something of a tour conducted by an obviously proud regent. Kane found himself mesmerized by the great number of oddities and antiquities that he beheld at this time. They strolled through what was obviously a large and quite old underground compound, laboriously hewed by hand out of solid rock. The rooms they visited were spacious and ornate with a variety of multi-colored tapestries and large, expertly painted frescos. Kane was surprised to find most of these paintings featured scenes from the world above. There were renditions of sea bound boats, large birds and animals, snow capped mountains, and even a dense green jungle. Certainly this art indicated Neerininshia's people had not dwelt in the bowels of the earth forever. However, the lively frescos might have been much older than the puritan first supposed. In one palatial section of the underground palace artisans were busy retouching a beautiful scene featuring fabulous mermaids leaping about in some unknown sea.
They passed many large columns, also carved directly from the hard bedrock. The majority of these were etched with smaller carving of noble looking faces and indecipherable hieroglyphics. They continued past no less than three spectacular indoor fountains, lighted like everything else by the mysterious green globes, including some that were larger than a man could reach around. There were hundreds if not thousands of these glowing devices. Naturally these objects could not provide near the illumination that the sun could, but they served as more than adequate to defeat the unlivable state of cavern blackness.
Neerininshia stopped momentarily beside one especially attractive fountain. She and Kane stared into the cascading waters that sparkled wonderfully, reflecting the odd green light in a most mesmerizing fashion. The girl placed her hand underneath the spray and grinned childishly. "Ah princess," Kane offered, despite realizing she had no hope of comprehending, "I'm thinking this one is your favorite." Their eyes met and something was understood. She smiled and the puritan felt his heartbeat increase more than a little. He sensed there was some force at work here, something more powerful than a man could easily resist...if at all. Still, he returned the warm smile and found it an easy thing to do. He almost regretted this action, he could virtually hear Satan laughing in hell at the pious Englishman's foolishness in the presence of this nude, albeit splendid savage.
Eventually the little procession exited altogether the large palace and proceeded out onto a large pavilion. It was a change that proved very pleasing to the puritan's hard eyes. The pavilion had been paved with large flat stones all colored a luminescent shade of blue and seemingly polished with wax. The outermost edge of this colorful area was ringed with posts supporting more green orbs. To compliment this array was another of vigilant soldiers. Each man wore a metal helmet painted bright green. Besides the now familiar long knives these proud looking troops were equipped with well crafted, lethal javelins.
Kane realized the palace also served as a cleverly designed fortress. The pavilion was raised a good twenty feet off the floor of the massive cavern that these mysterious folk called home.
It was difficult for him to see beyond the palace grounds but Kane's keen eyes glimpsed slinking shadowy figures moving out near the murky edges at the far reaches of the artificial green light. Obviously these were the sub-human wretches that had initially found the puritan. He wondered as to the nature of the relationship between Neerininshia's more advanced race and the malformed fiends that shared at least some parts of this odd underground world. The puritan doubted that the two parties were on good terms......it seemed impossible.
The Pavilion contained a scattering of sculpted figures. One was very impressive in size and workmanship, a large stone hippopotamus with gleaming eyes made from well polished bronze. Kane studied this figure that he estimated as weighing in at twenty tons or more. "Seth," Neerininshia said before she and her retainers bowed deeply before the idol.
Solomon Kane was startled with curiosity. Seth was the name of an ancient Egyptian God.....was it possible that these people were descended from some lost cult of that race? He did not know and without knowledge of their tongue his questions would have to remain unanswered. The Englishman's naturally inquiring intellect was stimulated by the possibilities hinted at by this revelation. He had stumbled upon something utterly fascinating and undoubtedly significant from a historical perspective.
Kane's contemplation was interrupted by a retainer offering another cup of the sweet wine. As he accepted the drink the puritan was reminded of the fact that he was not only thirsty but quite hungry. He hadn't as yet had a proper meal. He wondered as to the diet of his hosts and whether and Englishman like himself would find it palatable or repulsive. Neerininshia seemed to sense Kane's thoughts and cut the tour short. All proceeded back inside the palace proper.
After several twists and turns they entered a largish, highly ornate room. The entire extent of the walls in these quarters were covered with intricately weaved tapestries. A plush and beautifully decorated rug lay upon the floor accompanied by an abundance of thick perfumed cushions. A very pleasing and refreshing incense also entered the puritan's nostrils. He quickly took note of a small but well stocked wine cabinet set into an enclave near one corner of the room. The bottles contained therein were made of glass made into a variety of shapes, including one formed in the shape of a hippopotamus in apparent reference to their deity.
Seated quietly near the door were three musicians. One held a flute, another an odd stringed instrument, and the third a pair of small drums. At a signal from Neerininshia the little orchestra began to play. The music was strange to Kane's ears but also very melodic and he felt himself relaxing to the sound. He was also surprised that only two guards entered the room with Kane and the queen. They took positions just inside the door and stared stoically at nothing. The Englishman could only take the light guard as a sign he was trusted by Neerininshia, and that she desired her time with the gaunt white man to be as private as possible.
Neerininshia motioned for her guest to be seated before she reclined onto a soft cushion. She stretched her magnificent naked body and smiled unashamed when she caught Kane observing her well toned legs with obvious interest. The pair were separated by only a small dais which held a plentiful supply of wine and a treat that the famished man devoured ravenously upon discovering it was a spicy and very delicious cake. He naturally yearned for meat but had no means of knowing whether his hosts had access to animals they could slaughter or hunt for food.
The pair listened to the delightful music and partook of a very significant amount of the strong wine. Due to the language barrier the couple sat in silence, communicating with gestures and their eyes. Then Neerininshia a bit unsteadily to her feet, stretched her lithe body again, and casually kicked away her sandals. She also removed he single item of clothing...the white cloak that had been draped over her slender and beautifully sculpted shoulders.
Then, to Solomon Kane's amazement, the luscious woman began to dance. The Englishman's eyes narrowed into slits and he dared no blink less he miss one instant of the woman's astonishing performance. As he observed her thusly, his strong heart began to pound and his breathing grew shallow if not labored.
The young girl Neerininshia was exceedingly graceful and athletic. She moved in rhythm to the music as if it were her body producing the pretty notes and not the instruments of the musicians. She undulated her stomach, gyrated her hips, and flexed her agile youthful limbs in well practiced bewitching motions. Her arms and hands glided flawlessly back and forth. The generous swell of her pliant breasts bobbled and quivered in hypnotizing patterns. The girl's taunt and quite powerful bronze thighs and buttocks lifted, swayed, and spun about fluidly. Neerininshia's huge deep and dark eyes rarely left Kane, and he could sense that she was well pleased by the effect produced by her efforts. The Englishman's powerful chest heaved and dropped in fitful stops and starts. He could not help but wonder if the girl was not in fact a sorceress drawing him into a mysterious spell that might soon be utterly inescapable. Kane too another long drink of the sweet wine. It was impossible to lie to himself. Whatever Neerininshia was doing....he did not want to escape her magic.
The music paused and Neerininshia ceased weaving her sorcery. She went to Kane and collapsed beside him panting breathlessly and perspiring slightly. Now they were not separated by the dais. She took another sip of wine before laughing and suddenly laying her head against the muscular chest of the startled puritan.
He made no effort to push her away. Instead he glanced upwards for a fleeting moment. "Forgive me for my moments of weakness," Kane said before placing his arm around the girl's slim shoulders and gently massaging the incredibly tender flesh on Neerininshia's back. In turn, her little soft hands stroked the powerful thigh of the amazed swordsman.
At this point Kane entertained more than a passing thought of placing a kiss upon the girl's perfectly formed lips when a man appeared in the doorway and made a brief announcement before quickly taking his leave. Neerininshia seemed delighted at this new development. She squeezed on her guest's great hands and made an eating motion. "Ah," Kane said. "At last dinner is served."
if you want to read more of this old novella I wrote years ago let me know...thanks for reading