The Solomon Kane Stories

Title: The Moon of Skulls

Author: Robert E. Howard

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Title: The Moon of Skulls

Author: Robert E. Howard

Contents

1 CHAPTER I. A MAN COMES SEEKING

2 CHAPTER II. THE PEOPLE OF THE STALKING DEATH

3 CHAPTER III. LILITH

4 CHAPTER IV. DREAMS OF EMPIRE

5 CHAPTER V. "FOR A THOUSAND YEARS--"

6 CHAPTER VI. THE SHATTERING OF THE SKULL

7 CHAPTER VII. THE FAITH OF SOLOMON

CHAPTER I. A MAN COMES SEEKING

A great black shadow lay across the land, cleaving the red flame of

the red sunset. To the man who toiled up the jungle trail it loomed

like a symbol of death and horror, a menace brooding and terrible,

like the shadow of a stealthy assassin flung upon some candle-lit

wall.

Yet It was only the shadow of the great crag which reared up in front

of him, the first outpost of the grim foothills which were his goal.

He halted a moment at its foot, staring upward where it rose blackly

limned against me dying sun. He could have sworn that he caught the

hint of a movement at the top, as he stared, hand shielding his eyes,

but the fading glare dazzled him and he could not be sure. Was it a

man who darted to cover? A man, or--?

He shrugged his shoulders and fell to examining the rough trail which

led up and over me brow of the crag. At first glance it seemed that

only a mountain goat could scale it, but closer investigation showed

numbers of finger holds drilled into the solid rock. It would be a

task to try his powers to the utmost but he had not come a thousand

miles to turn back now.

He dropped the large pouch He wore at his shoulder, and laid down the

clumsy musket, retaining only his long rapier, dagger, and one of his

pistols, these he strapped behind him, and without a backward glance

over the darkening trail he had come, he started the long ascent.

He was a tall man, long-armed and iron-muscled, yet again and again he

was forced to halt in his upward climb and rest for a moment. clinging

like an ant to the precipitous face of the cliff. Night fell swiftly

and the crag above him was a shadowy blur in which he was forced to

feel wife his fingers, blindly, for the holes which served him as a

precarious ladder.

Below him, me night noises of the tropical jungle broke forth, yet it

appeared to him that even these sounds were subdued and hushed as

though the great black hills looming above threw a spell of silence

and fear even over the Jungle creatures.

On up he struggled, and now to make his way harder, the cliff bulged

outward near its summit, and the strain on nerve and muscle became

heart-breaking. Time and again a hold slipped and he escaped falling

by a hair's breadth. But every fibre in his lean hard body was

perfectly co-ordinated, and his fingers were like steel talons with

the grip of a vice. His progress grew slower and slower but on he went

until at last he saw the cliffy brow splitting the stars a scant

twenty feet above him.

And even as he looked, a vague bulk heaved into view, toppled on the

edge and hurtled down toward him with a great rush of air about it.

Flesh crawling, he flattened himself against the cliff's face and felt

a heavy blow against his shoulder. only a glancing blow. but even so

it nearly tore him from his hold. and as he fought desperately to

right himself, he heard a reverberating crash among the rocks far

below. Cold sweat beading his brow. he looked up. Who--or what--had

shoved that boulder over the cliff edge? He was brave, as the bones on

many a battlefield could testify, but the thought of dying like a

sheep, helpless and with no chance of resistance, turned his blood

cold,

Then a wave of fury supplanted his fear and he renewed his climb with

reckless speed. The expected second boulder did not come, however, and

no living thing met his sight as he clambered up over the edge and

leaped erect, sword flashing from its scabbard.

He stood upon a sort of plateau which debouched into a very broken

hilly country some half mile to the west, The? crag he had just

mounted jutted out from the rest of the heights like a sullen

promontory, looming above the sea of waving foliage below, now dark

and mysterious in the tropic night.

Silence ruled here in absolute Sovereignty. No breeze stirred the

sombre depths below, and no footfall rustled amid the stunted bushes

which cloaked the plateau, yet that boulder which had almost hurled

the climber to his death had not fallen by chance. What beings moved

among these grim hills? The tropical darkness fell about the lone

wanderer like a heavy veil through which the yellow stars blinked

evilly. The steams of the rotting jungle vegetation floated up to him

as tangible as a thick fog, and making a wry face he strode away from

the cliff, heading boldly across the plateau, sword in one hand and

pistol in the other.

There was an uncomfortable feeling of being watched in the very air.

The silence remained unbroken save for the soft swishing that marked

the stranger's cat-like tread through the tall upland grass, yet the

man sensed that living things glided before and behind him and on each

side. Whether man or beast trailed him he knew not, nor did he care

over-much, for he was prepared to fight human or devil who barred his

way. Occasionally he halted and glanced challengingly about him, but

nothing met his eye except the shrubs which crouched like short dark

ghosts about his trail, blended and blurred in the thick, hot darkness

through which the very stars seemed to struggle, redly.

At last he came to the place where the plateau broke into me higher

slopes and there-he saw a clump of trees blocked out solidly in me

lesser shadows. He approached warily, men halted as his gaze, growing

somewhat accustomed to the darkness, made out a vague form among me

sombre trunks which was not a part of them. He hesitated. The figure

neither advanced nor fled. A dim form of silent menace, it lurked as

if in wait. A brooding horror hung over that still cluster of trees.

The stranger advanced warily, blade extended. Closer. Straining his

eyes for some hint of threatening motion. He decided that the figure

was human but he was puzzled at its lack of movement. Then the reason

became apparent--it was the corpse of a black man that stood among

those trees, held erect by spears through his body, nailing him to the

boles. One arm was extended in front of him, held in place along a

great branch by a dagger through the wrist, the index finger straight

as if the corpse pointed stiffly--back along the way the stranger had

come, The meaning was obvious; that mute grim signpost could have but

one significance--death lay beyond. The man who stood gazing upon that

grisly warning rarely laughed, but now he allowed himself the luxury

of a sardonic smile. A thousand miles of land and sea--ocean travel

and jungle travel--and now they expected to turn him back with such

mummery--whoever they were. He resisted the temptation to salute the

corpse, as an action wanting in decorum, and pushed on boldly through

the grove, half expecting an attack from the rear or an ambush.

Nothing of the sort occurred, however, and emerging from the trees, he

found himself at the foot of a rugged incline, the first of a series

of slopes. He strode stolidly upward in the night, nor did he even

pause to reflect how unusual his actions must have appeared to a

sensible man. The average man would have camped at the foot of the

crag and waited for morning before even attempting to scale the

cliffs. But this was no ordinary man. Once his objective was in sight,

he followed the straightest line to it, without a thought of

obstacles, whether day or night. What was to be done, must be done. He

had reached the outposts of file kingdom of fear at dusk, and invading

its inmost recesses by night seemed to follow as a matter of course.

As he went up the boulder-strewn slopes the moon rose, lending its air

of illusion, and in its light the broken bills ahead loomed up like

the black spires of wizards' castles. He kept his eyes fixed on the

dim trail he was following, for he knew not when another boulder might

come hurt~ ling down the inclines. He expected an attack of any sort

and, naturally, it was the unexpected which really happened.

Suddenly from behind a great rock stepped a man, an ebony giant in the

pale moonlight, a long spear blade gleaming silver in his hand, his

headpiece of ostrich plumes floating above him like a white cloud. He

lifted the spear in a ponderous salute, and spoke in the dialect of

the river-tribes: "This is not the white man's land. Who is my white

brother In his own kraal and why does he come into the Land of

Skulls?"

"My name is Solomon Kane." the white man answered in the same

language. "I seek the vampire queen of Negari."

"Few seek. Fewer find. None return," answered the' other cryptically.

"Will you lead me to her ? " '

"You bear a long dagger in your right hand.

There are no lions-here."

"A serpent dislodged a boulder. I thought to find snakes in the

bushes."

The giant acknowledged this interchange of subtleties with a grim

smile and a brief silence fell.--

"Your life," said the black man presently, "is in my hand." Kane

smiled thinly. "I carry the lives of many warriors in my hand."

The negro's gaze travelled uncertainly up and down the shimmery length

of the Englishman's sword. Then he shrugged his mighty shoulders and

let his spear point sink to the earth.

"You bear no gifts," said he; "but follow me and I will lead you to

the Terrible One, the Mistress of Doom, The Red Woman, Nakari, who

rules the land of Negari."

He stepped aside, and motioned Kane to precede him, but the

Englishman, his mind on a spear-thrust in the back, shook his head.

"Who am I that I should walk in front of my brother? We be two chiefs

--let us walk side by side." In his heart Kane railed feat he should

be forced to use such unsavoury diplomacy with a savage warrior, but

he showed no sign. The giant bowed with a certain barbaric majesty and

together they went up the hill trail, unspeaking.

Kane was aware that men were stepping from hiding places and falling

in behind them, and a surreptitious glance over his shoulder showed

him some two score warriors trailing out behind them in two wedge-

shaped lines. "The moonlight glittered on sleek bodies, on waving

headgears and long, cruel spear blades.

"My brothers are like leopards," said Kane courteously; "they lie in

the low bushes and no eyes see them; they steal through the high grass

and no man hears their coming."

The black chief acknowledged the compliment with a courtly inclination

of his lion-like head, that set the plumes whispering.

"The mountain leopard is our brother, oh chieftain. Our feet are like

drifting smoke but our arms are like iron. When they strike, blood

drips red and men die."

Kane sensed an undercurrent of menace in the tone. There was no actual

hint of threat on which he might base his suspicions, but the sinister

minor note was there. He said no more for a space and the strange band

moved silently upward in the moonlight like a cavalcade of spectres.

The trail grew steeper and more rocky, winding in and out among crags

and gigantic boulders. Suddenly a great chasm opened before them,

spanned by a natural bridge of rock, at the foot of which the leader

halted.

Kane stared at the abyss curiously. It was some forty feet wide, and

looking down, his gaze "was swallowed by impenetrable blackness,

hundreds of feet deep, he knew. On the other side rose crags dark and

forbidding.

"Here," said the chief, "begin the true borders of Nakari's realm."

Kane was aware that the warriors were casually closing in on him. His

fingers instinctively tightened about the hilt of the rapier which he

had not sheathed. The air was suddenly super-charged with tension.

"Here, too," The warrior chief said, "they who bring no gifts to

Nakari--die!"

The last word was a shriek, as if the thought had transformed the

speaker into a maniac, and as he screamed it, the great arm went back

and then forward with a ripple of mighty muscles, and the long spear

leaped at Kane's breast.

Only a born fighter could have avoided that thrust. Kane's instinctive

action saved his life--the great blade grazed his ribs as he swayed

aside and returned the blow with a flashing thrust that killed a

warrior who jostled between him and the chief at that instant.

Spears flashed in the moonlight and Kane, parrying one and bending

under the thrust of another, sprang out upon the narrow bridge where

only one could come at him at a time.

None cared to be first. They stood upon the brink and thrust at him,

crowding forward when he retreated, giving hack when he pressed them.

Their spears were longer than his rapier but he more than made up for

the difference and the great odds by his scintillant skill and the

cold ferocity of his attack:

They wavered back and forth and then suddenly a giant leaped from

among his fellows and charged out upon the bridge like a wild buffalo,

shoulders hunched, spear held low. eyes gleaming with a look not

wholly sane. Kane leaped back before the onslaught, leaped back again,

striving to avoid that stabbing spear and to find an opening for his

point. He sprang to one side and found himself reeling on the edge of

the bridge with eternity gaping beneath him. The warriors yelled in

savage exultation as he swayed and fought for his balance, and the

giant on the bridge roared and plunged at his rocking foe.

Kane parried with all his strength--a feat few swordsman could have

accomplished, off balance as he was--saw the cruel spear blade flash

by his cheek--felt himself falling backward into the abyss. A

desperate effort, and he gripped the spear shaft, righted himself and

ran the spearman through the body. The giant's great red cavern of a

mouth spouted blood and with a dying effort he hurled himself blindly

against his foe. Kane, with his heels over the bridge's edge, was

unable to avoid him and they toppled over together, to disappear

silently into the depths below.

So swiftly had it all happened that the warriors stood stunned. The

giant's roar of triumph had scarcely died on his lips before the two

were falling into the darkness. Now the rest of the natives came out

on the bridge to peer down curiously. but no sound came up from the

dark void.

CHAPTER II. THE PEOPLE OF THE STALKING DEATH

As Kane fell he followed his fighting instinct, twisting in midair so

that when he struck, were it ten or a thousand feet below, he would

land on top of the man who fell with him.

The end came suddenly--much more suddenly than the Englishman had

thought for. He lay half stunned for an instant, then looking up, saw

dimly the narrow bridge banding the sky above him, and the forms of

the warriors, limned in the moonlight and grotesquely foreshortened as

they leaned over the edge. He lay still, knowing that the beams of the

moon did not pierce the deeps in which he was hidden, and that to

those watchers he was invisible. Then when they vanished from view he

began to review his present plight. His opponent was dead, and only

for the fact that his corpse had cushioned the fall, Kane would have

been dead likewise, for they had fallen a considerable distance. As it

was, the Englishman was stiff and bruised.

He drew his sword from the native's body, thankful that it had not

been broken, and began to grope about in the darkness. His hand

encountered the edge of what seemed a cliff. He had thought that he

was on the bottom of the chasm and that its impression of great depth

had been a delusion, but now he decided that he had fallen on a ledge,

part of the way down. He dropped a small stone over the side, and

after what seemed a very long time he heard the faint sound of its

striking far below.

Somewhat at a loss as to how to proceed, he drew flint and steel from

his belt and struck them to some tinder, warily shielding the light

with his hands. The faint illumination showed a large ledge jutting

out from the side of the cliff, that is, the side next the hills, to

which he had been attempting to cross. He had fallen close to the edge

and it was only by the narrowest margin that he had escaped sliding

off it, not knowing his position.

Crouching there, his eyes seeking to accustom themselves to the

abysmal gloom, he made out what seemed to be a darker shadow in the

shadows of the wall. On closer examination he found it to be an

opening large enough to admit his body standing erect. A cavern, he

assumed, and though its appearance was dark and forbidding in the

extreme, he entered, groping his way when the tinder burned out.

Where it led to, he naturally had no idea, but any action was

preferable to sitting still until the mountain vultures plucked his

bones. For a long way the cave floor tilted upward--solid rock beneath

his feet--and Kane made his way with some difficulty up the rather

steep slant, slipping and sliding now and then. The cavern seemed a

large one, for at no time after entering it could he touch the roof,

nor could he, with a hand on one wall, reach the other.

At last the floor became level and Kane sensed that the cave was much

larger there. The air seemed better, though the darkness was just as

impenetrable. Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. From somewhere

in front of him there came a strange indescribable rustling. Without

warning something smote him in the face and slashed wildly. All about

him sounded the eerie murmurings of many small wings and suddenly Kane

smiled crookedly, amused, relieved and chagrined. Bats, of course. The

cave was swarming with them. Still, it was a shaky experience, and as

he went on and the wings whispered through the vast emptiness of the

great cavern, Kane's mind found space to dally with a bizarre

thought-- had he wandered into Hell by some strange means, and were

these in truth bats, or were they lost souls winging through

everlasting night? Then, thought Solomon Kane, I will soon confront

Satan himself--and even as he thought this, his nostrils were assailed

by a horrid scent, fetid and repellent. The scent grew as he went

slowly on, and Kane swore softly, though he was not a profane man. He

sensed that the smell betokened some hidden threat, some unseen

malevolence, inhuman and deathly, and his sombre mind sprang at

supernatural conclusions. However, he felt perfect confidence in his

ability to cope with any fiend or demon, armoured as he was in

unshakable faith of creed and the knowledge of the rightness of his

cause. What followed happened suddenly. He was groping his way along

when in front of him two narrow yellow eyes leaped up in the

darkness--eyes that were cold and expressionless, too hideously close-

set for human eyes and too high for any four-legged beast. What horror

had thus reared itself up in front of him ?

This is Satan, thought Kane as the eyes swayed above him, and the next

instant he was battling for his life with the darkness that seemed to

have taken tangible form and thrown itself about his body and limbs in

great slimy coils. Those coils lapped his sword arm and rendered it

useless; with the other hand he groped for dagger or pistol, flesh

crawling as his fingers slipped from Slick scales, while the hissing

of the monster filled the cavern with a cold paean of terror.

There in the black dark to the accompaniment of the bats' leathery

rustlings, Kane fought like a rat in the grip of a mouse-snake, and he

could feel his ribs giving and his breath going before his frantic

left hand closed on his dagger hilt.

Then with a volcanic twist and wrench of his steel-thewed body he tore

his left arm partly free and plunged the keen blade again and again to

the hilt in the sinuous writhing terror which enveloped him, feeling

at last the quivering coils loosen and slide from his limbs to lie

about his feet like huge cables.

The mighty serpent Lashed wildly in its death struggles, and Kane,

avoiding its bone-shattering blows, reeled away in the darkness,

labouring for breath, If his antagonist had not been Satan himself, it

had been Satan's nearest earthly satellite, thought Solomon, hoping

devoutly that he would not be called upon to battle another in the

darkness there.

It seemed to him that he had been walking through the blackness for

ages and he began to wonder if there were any end to me cave when a

glimmer of light pierced the darkness. He thought it to be an outer

entrance a great way off, and started forward swiftly, but to his

astonishment, he brought up short against a blank wall after taking a

few strides.

Then he perceived that me light came through a narrow crack in the

wall, and feeling over this wall he found it to be of different

material from the rest of the cave, consisting, apparently, of regular

blocks of stone joined together with mortar of some sort--an

indubitably man-built wall. The light streamed between two of these

stones where the mortar had crumbled away. Kane ran his hands over the

surface with an interest ! beyond his present needs. The work

seemed very old and very much superior to what might be expected of a

tribe of ignorant savages. He felt the thrill of the explorer and

discoverer. Certainly no white man had ever seen this place and lived

to tell of it, for when he had landed on the dank West Coast some

months be-before, preparing to plunge into the interior, he had had no

hint of such a country as this. The few white men who knew anything at

all of Africa with Whom he had talked, had never even mentioned the

"Land of Skulls, or the she-fiend who ruled it.

Kane thrust against the wall cautiously. The structure seemed weakened

from age--a vigorous shove and it gave perceptibly. He hurled himself

against it with all his weight--and a whole section of wall gave way

with a crash, precipitating him into a dimly lighted corridor amid a

heap of stone, dust and mortar.

He sprang up and looked about, expecting the noise to bring a horde of

wild spearmen. Utter silence reigned. The corridor in which he now

stood was much like a long narrow cave itself, save that it was the

work of man. It was several feet wide and the roof was many feet above

his head. Dust lay ankle-deep on the floor as if no foot had trod

there for countless centuries, and the dim light, Kane decided,

filtered in somehow through the roof or ceiling, for nowhere did he

see any doors or windows. At last he decided the source was the

ceiling itself, which was of a peculiar phosphorescent quality.

He set off down the corridor, feeling uncomfortably like a grey ghost

moving along the grey halls of death and decay. The evident antiquity

of his surroundings depressed him, making him sense vaguely the

fleeting and futile existence of mankind. That he was now on top of

the earth he believed, since light of a sort came in, but where, he

could not even offer a conjecture. This was a land of enchantment--a

land of horror and fearful mysteries, the jungle and river natives had

said, and he had gotten whispered hints of, its terrors ever since he

had set his back to the Slave Coast and ventured into the hinterlands

alone. Now and then he caught a low indistinct murmur which seemed to

come through one of the walls, and he at last came to the conclusion

that he had stumbled onto a secret passage in some castle or house.

The natives who had dared speak to him of Negari, had whispered of a

ju-ju city built of stone, set high amid the grim black crags of the

fetish hills.

Then, thought Kane. it may be that I have blundered upon the very

thing I sought and am in the midst of that city of terror. He halted,

and choosing a place at random, began to loosen the mortar with his

dagger. As he worked he again heard that low murmur, increasing in

volume as he bored through the wall, and presently the point pierced

through, and looking through the aperture it had made, he saw a

strange and fantastic scene.

He was looking into a great chamber, whose walls and floors were of

stone, and whose mighty roof was upheld by gigantic stone columns,

strangely carved. Ranks of feathered black warriors lined the walls

and a double column of them stood like statues before a throne set

between two stone dragons which were larger than elephants. These men

he recognized, by their bearing and general appearance, to be

tribesmen of the warriors he had fought at the chasm. But his gaze was

drawn irresistibly to the great, grotesquely ornamented throne. There,

dwarfed by the ponderous splendour about her, a woman reclined. A

tawny woman she was, young and of a tigerish comeliness. She was naked

except for a be plumed helmet, armbands, anklets and a girdle of

coloured ostrich feathers, and she sprawled upon the silken cushions

with her limbs thrown about in voluptuous abandon. Even at that

distance Kane could make out that her features were regal yet

barbaric, haughty and Imperious, yet sensual, and with a touch of

ruthless cruelty about the curl of full red lips. Kane felt his pulse

quicken. This could be no other than she whose crimes had become

almost mythical--Nakari of Negari, demon queen of a demon city, whose

monstrous lust for blood had set half a continent shivering. At least

she seemed human enough; the tales of the fearful river tribes had

lent her a supernatural aspect. Kane had half expected to see a

loathsome semi-human monster out of some past and demoniacal age.

The Englishman gazed, fascinated though repelled. Not even in the

courts of Europe had he seen such grandeur. The chamber and all its

accoutrements, from the carven serpents twined about the bases of the

pillars to the dimly seen dragons on the shadowy ceiling, were

fashioned on a gigantic scale. The splendour was awesome--elephantine

--inhumanly oversized, and almost numbing to the mind which sought to

measure and conceive the magnitude thereof. To Kane it seemed that

these things must have been the work of gods rather than men, for this

chamber alone would dwarf most of the castles be had known in Europe.

.

The fighting men who thronged that mighty room seemed grotesquely

incongruous. They were--not the architects of that ancient place. As

Kane realized this the sinister importance of Queen Nakari dwindled.

Sprawled on that august throne in the midst of the terrific glory of

another age, she seemed to assume her true proportions, a spoiled,

petulant child engaged in a game of make-believe and using tor her

sport a toy discarded by her elders. And at the same time a thought

entered Kane's mind--who were these elders ? Still, the child

could become deadly in her game, as the Englishman soon saw. A tall

and massive warrior came through the ranks fronting the throne, and

after prostrating himself four times before it, remained on his knees,

evidently waiting permission to speak. The queen's air of lazy

indifference fell from her and he straightened with a quick lithe

motion that reminded Kane of a leopardess springing erect. She spoke,

and the words came faintly to him as he strained his faculties to

hear. She spoke in a language very similar to that of the river

tribes.

"Speak!"

"Great and Terrible One," said the kneeling warrior, and Kane

recognized him as the chief who had first accosted him on the

plateau--the chief of the guards on the cliffs, "let not the fire of

your fury consume your slave." The young woman's eyes narrowed

viciously.

"You know why you were summoned, son of a vulture?"

"Fire of Beauty, the stranger called Kane brought no gifts."

"No gifts?" she spat out the words. "What have I to do with gifts?"

The chief hesitated, knowing now that there was some special

importance in this stranger.

"Gazelle of Negari, he came climbing the crags in the night like an

assassin, with a dagger as long as a man's arm in his hand. The

boulder we hurled down missed him, and we met him upon the plateau and

took him to the Bridge-Across-the-Sky, where, as is the custom, we

thought to slay him; for it was your word that you were weary of men

who came wooing you."

"Fool," she snarled. "Fool!"

"Your slave did not know, Queen of Beauty. The strange man fought like

a mountain leopard. Two men he slew and fell with the last one into

the chasm, and so he perished, Star of Negari."

"Aye," the queen's tone was venomous. "The first great man who ever

came "to Negari! One who might have--rise, fool"*

The man got to his feet.

"Mighty Lioness, might not this one have come seeking--"

The sentence was never completed. Even as he straightened, Nakari made

a swift gesture with her hand. Two warriors plunged from the silent

ranks and two spears crossed in the chief's body before he could turn.

A gurgling scream burst from his lips, blood spurted high in the air

and the corpse fell flatly at the foot of the great throne.

The ranks never wavered, but Kane caught the sidelong flash of

strangely red eyes and the involuntary wetting of thick lips. Nakari

had half risen as the spears flashed, and now she sank back, an

expression of cruel satisfaction on her beautiful face and a strange

brooding gleam in her scintillant eyes.

An indifferent wave of her hand and the corpse was dragged away by the

heels, the dead arms trailing limply in the wide smear of blood left

by the passage of the body. Kane could see other wide stains crossing

the stone floor, some almost indistinct, others less dim. How many

wild scenes of blood and cruel frenzy had the great stone throne-

dragons looked upon with their carven eyes ?

He did not doubt, now, the tales told him by the river tribes. These

people were bred in rapine and horror. Their prowess had burst their

brains. They lived, like some terrible beast, only to destroy. There

were strange gleams behind their eyes which at times lit those eyes

with up-leading flames and shadows of Hell. What had the river tribes

said of these mountain people who had ravaged them for countless

centuries?

"That they were henchmen of death, who stalked among them, and whom

they worshipped." Still the thought hovered in Kane's mind as he

watched--who built this place, and why were these people evidently in

possession? Fighting men such as they were could not have reached the

culture evidenced by these carvings. Yet the river tribes had spoken

of no other men than those upon which he now looked. The Englishman

tore himself away from the fascination of the barbaric scene with an

effort. He had no time to waste; as long as they thought him dead, he

had more chance of eluding possible guards and seeking what he had

come to find. He 3turned and set off down file dim corridor. No plan

of action offered itself to his mind and one direction was as good as

another. The passage did not run straight; it turned and twisted,

following the line of the walls, Kane' supposed, and found time to

wonder at the evident enormous thickness of those walls. He expected

at any moment to meet some guard or slave, but as the corridors

continued to stretch empty before him, with the dusty floors unmarked

by any footprint, he decided that either the passages were unknown to

the people of Negari or else for some reason were never used.

He kept a close lookout for secret doors, and at last found one, made

fast on the inner side with a rusty bolt set in a groove of the wall.

This he manipulated cautiously, and presently with a creaking which

seemed terrifically loud in the stillness the door swung inward.

Looking out he saw no one, and stepping warily through the opening, he

drew the door to behind him, noting that it assumed the part of a

fantastic picture painted on the wall. He scraped a mark with his

dagger at the point where he believed the hidden spring to be on the

outer side, for he knew not when he might need to use the passage

again.

He was in a great hall, through which ran a maze of giant pillars much

like those of the throne chamber. Among them he felt like a child in

some great forest, yet they gave him some slight sense of security

since he believed that, gliding among them like a ghost through a

jungle, he could elude the warriors in spite of their craft.

He set off, choosing his direction at random and going carefully. Once

he heard a mutter of voices, and leaping upon the base of a column,

clung there while two women passed directly beneath him. but besides

these he encountered no one. It was an uncanny sensation, passing

through this vast hall which seemed empty of human life, but in some

other part of which Kane knew there might be throngs of people, hidden

from sight by I the pillars.

At last, after what seemed an eternity of following these monstrous

mazes, he came upon a huge wall which seemed to be either a side of

the hall, or a partition, and continuing along this, he saw in front

of him a doorway before which two spearmen stood like black statues.

Kane, peering about the corner of a column base, made out two windows

high in the wall, one on each side of me door, and noting the ornate

carvings which covered the walls, determined on a desperate plan.

He felt it imperative that he should see what lay within that room.

The fact that it was guarded suggested that the room beyond the door

was either a treasure chamber or a dungeon, and he felt s ure that his

ultimate goal would prove to be a dungeon.

Kane retreated to a point out of sight of the guards and began to

scale the wall, using the deep carvings for hand and foot holds. It

proved even easier than he had hoped, and having climbed to a point

level with the windows, he crawled cautiously along a horizontal line,

feeling like an ant on a wall. The guards far below him never looked

up, and finally he reached the nearer window and drew himself up over

the sill. He looked down into a large room, empty of life, but

equipped in a manner sensuous and barbaric. Silken couches and velvet

cushions dotted the floor in profusion, and tapestries heavy with gold

work hung upon tile walls. The ceiling too was worked in gold.

Strangely incongruous, crude trinkets of ivory and ironwood,

unmistakably savage in workmanship, littered the place, symbolic

enough of this strange kingdom where signs of barbarism vied with a

strange culture. The outer door was shut and in the wall opposite was

another door, also closed.

Kane descended from the window, sliding down the edge of a tapestry as

a sailor slides down a sail-rope, and crossed the room. His feet sank

noiselessly into the deep fabric of the rug which covered the floor,

and which, like all the other furnishings, seemed ancient to the point

of decay.

At the door he hesitated. To step into the next room might be a

desperately hazardous thing to do; should it prove to be filled with

warriors, his escape was cut off by the spearman outside the other

door. Still, he was used to taking all sorts of wild chances, and now,

sword in hand, he flung the door open with a suddenness intended to

numb with surprise for an instant any foe who might be on the other

side. Kane took a swift step within, ready for anything--then halted

suddenly, struck speechless and motionless for a second. He had come

thousands of miles in search of something, and there before him lay

the object of his search.

CHAPTER III. LILITH

A couch stood in the middle of the room, and its silken surface lay a

woman--a woman whose skin was fair and whose reddish gold hair fell

about her bare shoulders. She now sprang erect, fright flooding her

fine grey eyes, lips parted to utter a cry which she as suddenly

checked.

"You!" she exclaimed. "How did you--?"

Solomon Kane closed the door behind him and came toward her, a rare

smile on his dark face.

"You remember me, do you not. Marylin?"

The fear had already faded from her eyes even before he spoke, to be

replaced by a look of incredible wonder and dazed bewilderment.

"Captain Kane! I can not understand--it seemed no one would ever

come--"

She drew a small hand wearily across her brow, swaying suddenly.

Kane caught her in his arms--she was only a child--and laid her gently

on the couch. There, chafing her wrists gently, he talked in a low

hurried monotone, keeping an eye on the door all the time--which door,

by the way, seemed to be the only entrance or egress from the room.

While he talked he mechanically took in the chamber, noting that it

was almost a duplicate of the outer room as regards hangings and

"general furnishings.

"First," said he, "before, we go into any other matters, tell me, are

you closely guarded?"

"Very closely, sir," she murmured hopelessly, "I know not how you came

here, but we can never escape."

"Let me tell you swiftly how I came to be here, and mayhap you will be

more hopeful when I tell you of the difficulties already overcome. Lie

still now, Marylin. and I will tell you how I came to seek an English

heiress in the devil city of Negari.

"I killed Sir John Taferel in a duel. As to the reason, 'tis neither

here nor there, but slander and a black lie lay behind it. Ere he died

he confessed that he had committed a foul crime some years agone. You

remember, of course, the affection cherished for you by your cousin,

old Lord Hildred Taferal, Sir John's uncle? Sir John feared that the

old lord, dying without issue, might leave the great Taferal estates

to you.

"Years ago you disappeared and Sir John, spread the rumour that you

had drowned. Yet when he lay dying with my rapier through his body, he

gasped out that he had kidnapped you and sold you to a Barbary rover,

whom he named--a bloody pirate whose name has not been unknown on

England's coasts aforetime. So I came seeking you, and a long weary

trail it has been, stretching into long leagues and bitter years.

"First I sailed the seas searching for El Gar, the Barbary corsair

named by Sir John. I found him in the crash and roar of an ocean

battle; he died, but even as he lay dying he told me that he had sold

you in turn to a merchant out of Stamboul. So to the Levant I went and

there by chance came upon a Greek sailor whom the Moors had crucified

on the shore for piracy. I cut him down and asked him the question I

asked all men--if he had in his wanderings seen a captive English

girl-child with yellow curls. I learned that he had been one of the

crew of the Stamboul merchants, and that she had, on her homeward

voyage, been set upon by a Portuguese slaver and sunk--this renegade

Greek and the child being among the few who were taken aboard the

slaver.

"This slaver then, cruising south for black ivory, had been ambushed

in a small bay on the African West Coast, and of your further fate the

Greek knew nothing, for he had escaped the general massacre, and

taking to sea in an open boat, had been taken up by a ship of Genoese

freebooters.

"To the West Coast, then, I came, on the slim chance that you still

lived, and there heard among the natives that some years ago a white

child had been taken from a ship whose crew had been slain, and sent

inland as a part of the tribute the shore tribes paid to the upper

river chiefs.

"Then all traces ceased. For months I wandered without a clue as to

your whereabouts, nay, without a hint that you even lived. Then I

chanced to hear among the river tribes of the demon city Negari and

the evil queen who kept a foreign woman for a slave. I came here."

Kane's matter-of-fact tone, his unfurbished narration, gave no hint of

the full meaning of that tale--of what lay behind those calm and

measured words--the sea-fights and the land fights--the years of

privation and heart-breaking toil, the ceaseless danger, the

everlasting wandering through hostile and unknown lands, the tedious

and deadening labour of ferreting out the information he wished from

ignorant, sullen and unfriendly savages.

"I came here," said Kane simply, but what a world of courage and

effort was symbolized by that phrase! A long red trail, black shadows

and crimson shadows weaving a devils dance--marked by flashing swords

and the smoke of battle--by faltering words falling like drops of

blood from the lips of dying men.

Not a consciously dramatic man, certainly, was Solomon Kane. He told

his tale in the same manner in which he had overcome terrific

obstacles --coldly, briefly and without heroics.

"You see, Marylin," he concluded gently, "I have not come this far and

done this much, to now meet with defeat. Take heart, child. We will

find a way out of this fearful place."

"Sir John took me on his. saddlebow." the girl said dazedly, and

speaking slowly as if her native language came strangely to her from

years of unuse, as she framed in halting words an English evening of

long ago: "He carried me to the seashore where a galley's boat waited,

filled with fierce men, dark and moustached and having scimitars, and

great rings to the fingers. The captain, a Moslem with a face like a

hawk, took me, I a-weeping with fear, and bore me to his galley. Yet

he was kind to me in his way. I being little more than a baby, and at

last sold me to a Turkish merchant, as he told you. This merchant he

met off the southern coast of France, after many days of sea travel.

"This man did not use me badly, yet I feared him, for he was a man of

cruel countenance and made me understand that I was to be sold to a

black sultan of me Moors. However, in the Gates of Hercules his ship

was set upon by a Cadiz slaver and things came about as you have said.

"The captain of the slaver believed me to be the child of some wealthy

English family and intended holding me for ransom, but in a grim

darksome bay on the African coast he perished with all his men except

the Greek you have mentioned, and I was taken captive by a savage

chieftain.

"I was terribly afraid and thought he would slay me, but he did me no

harm and sent me upcountry with an escort, who also bore much loot

taken from the ship. This loot, together with myself, was, as you

know, intended for a powerful king of the river peoples. But it never

reached him, for a roving band of Negari fell upon the beach warriors

and slew them all. Then I was taken to this city, and have since

remained, slave to Queen Nakari.

"How I have lived through all those terrible scenes of battle and

cruelty and murder, I know not.'

"A providence has watched over you, child,' said Kane, "the power

which doth care for weak women and helpless children; which led me to

you in spite of all hindrances, and which shall yet lead us forth from

this place, God willing."

"My people!" she exclaimed suddenly like one awaking from a dream;

"what of them ?"

"All in good health and fortune, child, save that they have sorrowed

for you through the long years. Nay, old Sir Mildred hath the gout and

doth so swear thereat that I fear for his soul at times. Yet methinks

that the sight of you, little Marylin, would mend-him."

"Still, Captain Kane," said the girl, "I can not understand why you

came alone."

"Your brothers would have come with me, child, but it was not sure

that you lived, and I was loth that any other Taferal should die in a

land far from good English soil. I rid the country of an evil

Taferal-- 'twas but just I should restore in his place a good Taferal,

if so be she still lived--I, and I alone."

This explanation Kane himself believed. He never sought to analyse his

motives and he never wavered once his mind was made up. Though he

always acted on impulse, he firmly believed that all his actions were

governed by cold and logical reasonings. He was a man born out of his

time--a strange blending of Puritan and Cavalier, with a touch of the

ancient philosopher, and more man s touch of the pagan, though the

last assertion would have shocked him unspeakably. An atavist of the

days of blind chivalry he was, a knight errant in the sombre domes of

a fanatic. A hunger in his soul drove him on and on, an urge to right

all wrongs, protect all weaker things, avenge all crimes against right

and justice. Wayward and restless as the wind, he was consistent in

only one respect--he was true to his ideals of justice and right. Such

was Solomon Kane.

"Marylin," he now said kindly, taking her small hands In his sword-

calloused fingers, "methinks you have changed greatly in the years.

You were a rosy and chubby little maid when I used to dandle you on

my, knee in old England. Now you seem drawn and pale of face, though

you are beautiful as the nymphs of the heathen books. There are

haunting ghosts in your eyes. child--do they misuse you here?"

She lay back on the couch and the blood drained slowly from her

already pallid features until she was deathly white. Kane bent over

her, startled. Her voice came in a whisper.

"Ask me not. There are deeds better hidden in the darkness of night

and forgetfulness. There are sights which blast the eyes and leave

their burning mark forever on the brain. The walls of ancient cities,

recked not of by men, have looked upon scenes not to be spoken of,

even in whispers."

Her eyes closed wearily and Kane's troubled. sombre eyes

unconsciously' traced the thin blue lines of her veins, prominent

against the unnatural whiteness of her skin.

"Here Is some demoniacal thing." he muttered. "A mystery--"

"Aye," murmured the girl, "a mystery that was old when Egypt was

young! And nameless evil more ancient than dark Babylon--that spawned

in terrible black cities when the world was young and strange."

Kane frowned, troubled. At the girl's strange words he felt an eery

crawling fear at the back of his brain, as if dim racial memories

stirred in the eon-deep gulfs, conjuring up grim chaotic visions,

illusive and nightmarish.

Suddenly Marylin sat erect, her eyes flaring wide with fright. Kane

heard a door open somewhere.

"Nakari!" whispered the girl urgently.

"Swift! She must not find you here' Hide quickly, and"--as Kane

turned--"keep silent, whatever may chance!"

She lay back on the couch, feigning slumber as Kane crossed the room

and concealed himself behind some tapestries which, hanging upon the

wall, hid a niche that might have once held a statue of some sort.

He had scarcely done so when the single door of the room opened and a

strange barbaric figure stood framed in it. Nakari, queen of Negari,

had come to her slave.

The woman was clad as she had been when he had seen her on the throne,

and the coloured armlets and anklets clanked as she closed the door

behind her and came into the room. She moved with the easy sinuousness

of a she-leopard and in spite of himself the watcher was struck with

admiration for her lithe beauty. Yet at the same time a shudder of

repulsion shook him, for her eyes gleamed with vibrant and magnetic

evil, older than the world.

"Lilith!" thought Kane. "She is beautiful and oterrible as Purgatory.

She is Lilith--that foul, lovely woman of ancient legend."

Nakari halted by the couch, stood looking down upon her captive for a

moment, then with an enigmatic smile, bent and shook her. Marylin

opened her eyes, sat up, then slipped from her couch and knelt before

her savage mistress--an act which caused Kane to curse beneath his

breath. The queen laughed and seating herself upon the couch, motioned

the girl to rise, and then put an arm about her waist and drew her

upon her lap. Kane watched, puzzled, while Nakari caressed the girl in

a lazy, amused manner. This might be affection, but to Kane it seemed

more like a sated leopard teasing its victim. There was an air of

mockery and studied cruelty about the whole affair.

"You are very soft and pretty, Mara," Nakari murmured lazily, "much

prettier man the other girls who serve me. The time approaches, little

one, for your nuptial. And a fairer bride has never been borne up the

Black Stairs."

Marylin began to tremble and Kane thought she was going to faint.

Nakari's eyes gleamed strangely beneath her long-lashed drooping lids,

and her full red lips curved in a faint tantalizing smile. Her every,

action seemed fraught with some sinister meaning. Kane began to sweat

profusely.

"Mara," said the queen, "you are honoured above all other girls, and

yet you are not content. Think how the girls of Negari will envy you,

Mara, when the priests sing the nuptial song and the Moon of Skulls

looks over the black crest of the Tower of Death. Think, little bride-

of--the-Master, how many girls have given their lives to be his

bride!"

And Nakari laughed in her hateful, musical way as at a rare jest. And

then suddenly she stopped short. Her eyes narrowed to slits as they

swept the room, and her whole body tensed. Her hand went to her girdle

and came away with a long thin dagger. Kane sighted along the barrel

of his pistol, finger against the trigger. Only a natural hesitancy

against shooting a woman kept him from sending death into the savage

heart of Nakari, for he believed that she was about to murder the

girl.

Then, with a lithe, cat-like motion, she thrust the girl from her

knees and bounded back across the room, her eyes fixed with blazing

intensity on the tapestry behind which Kane stood. Had those keen eyes

discovered him? He quickly learned.

"Who is there?" she rapped out fiercely.

"Who hides behind those hangings? I do not see you nor hear you, but I

know someone is there I" Kane remained silent. Nakari's wild beast

instinct had betrayed him, and he was uncertain as to what course to

follow. His next actions depended on the queen.

"Mara!" Nakari's voice slashed like a whip, "who is behind those

hangings ? Answer me! Shall I give you a taste of the whip

again?" The girl seemed incapable of speech. She cowered where she had

fallen, her beautiful eyes full of terror. Nakari, her blazing gaze

never wavering, reached behind her with her free hand and gripped a

cord hanging from the wall. She jerked viciously. Kane felt the

tapestries whip back on either side of him and he stood revealed. For

a moment the strange tableau held--the gaunt adventurer in hie blood-

stained, tattered garments, the long pistol gripped in his right

hand--across the room the savage queen in her barbaric finery, one arm

still lifted to the cord, the other hand holding the dagger in front

of her--the imprisoned girl cowering on the floor. Then Kane spoke:

"Keep silent, Nakari. or you die!" The queen seemed numbed and struck

speechless by the sudden apparition. Kane stepped from among the

tapestries and slowly approached her.

"You!" she found her voice at last. "You must be he of whom the

guardsmen spake! There are not two other white men in Negari! They

said you fell to your death! How then--"

"Silence!" Kane's voice cut in harshly on her amazed babblings; he

knew that the pistol meant nothing to her, but she sensed the threat

of the long blade in his left hand. "Marylin," still unconsciously

speaking in the river tribes' language, "take cords from the hangings

and bind her--" He was about the middle of the chamber now. Nakari's

face had lost much of its helpless bewilderment and into her blazing

eyes stole a crafty gleam. She deliberately let her dagger fall as in

token of surrender, then suddenly her hands shot high above her head

and gripped another thick cord. Kane heard Marylin scream, but before

he could pull the trigger or even think, the floor fell beneath his

feet and he shot down into abysmal blackness. He did not fall far and

he landed on his feet; but the force of the fall sent him to his knees

and even as he went down, sensing a presence in the darkness beside

him, something crashed against his skull and he dropped into a yet

blacker abyss of unconsciousness.

CHAPTER IV. DREAMS OF EMPIRE

Slowly Kane drifted back from the dim realms where the unseen

assailant's bludgeon had hurled him. Something hindered me motion of

his hands, and there was a metallic clanking when he sought to raise

them to his aching, throbbing head. He lay in utter darkness, but he

could not determine whether this was absence of light, or whether he

was still blinded by the blow. He dazedly collected his scattered

faculties and realized that he was lying on a damp stone floor,

shackled by wrist and ankle with heavy iron chains which were rough

and rusty to the touch.

How long he lay there, he never knew. The silence was broken only by

the drumming pulse in his own aching head and the scamper and

chattering of rats. At last a red glow sprang up in the darkness and

grew before his eyes. Framed in the grisly radiance rose the sinister

and sardonic face of Nakari. Kane shook his head, striving to rid

himself of the illusion. But the light grew and as his eyes accustomed

themselves to it, he saw that it emanated from a torch borne in the

hand of the queen.

In the illumination he now saw that he lay in a osmall dank cell whose

walls, ceiling and floor were of stone. The heavy chains which held

him captive were made fast to metal rings set deep in the wall. There

was but one door, which was apparently of bronze.

Nakari set the torch in a niche near the door, and coming forward,

stood over her captive, gazing down at him in a manner rather

speculating than mocking.

"You are he who fought the men on the cliff." The remark was an

assertion rather than a question. "They said you fell into the abyss--

did they lie? Did you bribe them to lie? Or how did you escape ?

Are you a magician and did you fly to the bottom of the chasm and then

fly to my palace? Speak!"

Kane remained silent. Nakari cursed.

"Speak or I will have your eyes torn out! I will cut your fingers off

and burn your feet!" She kicked him viciously, but Kane lay silent,

his deep sombre eyes boring up into her face, until the feral gleam

faded from her eyes to be replaced by an avid interest and wonder.

She seated herself on a stone bench, resting her elbows on her knees

and her chin on her hands.

"I never saw a white man before," she said.

"Are all white men like you? Bah! That cannot be! Most men are fools*

black or white. I know that white men are not gods as the river tribes

say--they are only men. I, who know all the ancient mysteries, say

they are only men.

"But white men have strange mysteries too, they tell me--the wanderers

of the river tribes and Mara. They have war clubs that make a noise

like thunder and kill afar off--that thing which you held in your

right hand, was that one of those clubs?"

Kane permitted himself a grim smile.

"Nakari, if you know all mysteries, how can I tell you aught that you

know not already?"

"How deep and cold and strange your eyes are!" the queen said as if he

had not spoken.

"How strange your whole appearance is--and you have the bearing of a

king! You do not fear me--I never met a man who neither loved nor

feared me. You would never fear me, but you could learn to love me.

Look at me, bold one--am I not beautiful?"

"You are beautiful," answered Kane

Nakari smiled and then frowned. "The way you say that. it is no

compliment. You hate me, do you not?"

"As a man hates a serpent," Kane replied bluntly.

Nakari's eyes blazed with almost insane fury. Her hands clenched until

the long nails sank into the palms; then as quickly as her anger bad

arisen, it ebbed away.

"You have me heart of a king." she said calmly, "else you would fear

me. Are you a king your land?"

"I am only a landless wanderer."

"You might be a king here," Nakari said slowly. Kane laughed grimly.

"Do you offer me my life?"

"I offer you more than that!" Kane's eyes narrowed as the queen leaned

toward him, vibrant with suppressed excitement.

"Kane, what is it that you want more than anything else in the

world ? "

"To take me white girl you call Mara, and go." Nakari sank back with

an impatient exclamation.

"You can not have her; she is he promised bride of the Master. Even I

could not save her. I even if I wished. Forget her. I will help you

forget her. Listen, listen to the words of Nakari, queen of Negari!

You say you are a landless man--I will make you a king! I will give

you the world for a toy! "No, no keep silent until I have finished."

she rushed on, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness.

Her eyes blazed, her whole body quivered with dynamic intensity. "I

have talked to travellers, to captives and slaves, men from far

countries. I know that this land of mountains and rivers and jungle is

not all the world. There are far-off nations and cities, and kings and

queens to be crushed and broken.

"Negari is fading, her might is crumbling, but a strong man beside her

queen might build it up again--might restore all her vanishing glory.

Listen, Kane! Sit by me on the throne of Negari! Send afar to your

people for the thunder-clubs to arm my warriors! My nation is still

lord of central Africa. Together we will band the conquered tribes--

call back the days when the realm of ancient Negari spanned the land

from sea to sea! We will subjugate all the tribes of the river, the

plain and the sea-shore, and instead of slaying them all, we will make

one mighty army of them! And then, when all Africa is under our heel,

we will sweep forth upon the world like a hungry lion to rend and tear

and destroy!"

Solomon's brain reeled. Perhaps it was the woman's fierce magnetic

personality, the dynamic power she instilled in her fiery words, but

at the moment her wild plan seemed not at all wild and impossible.

Lurid and chaotic visions flamed through the Puritan's brain--Europe

torn by civil and religious strife, divided against herself, betrayed

by her rulers, tottering--aye, Europe was in desperate straits now,

and might prove an easy victim for some strong savage race of

conquerors. What man can say truthfully that in his heart there lurks

not a yearning for power and conquest?

For a moment the Devil sorely tempted Solomon Kane. Then before his

mind's eye rose the wistful, sad face of Marylin Taferal, and Solomon

cursed.

"Out on ye, daughter of Satan! Avaunt! Am I a beast of the forest to

lead your savage devils against mine own people? Nay, no beast ever

did so. Begone! If you wish my friendship, set me free and let me go

with the girl."

Nakari leaped like a tiger-cat to her feet, her eyes flaming now with

passionate fury. A dagger gleamed in her hand and she raised it high

above Kane's breast with a feline scream of hate. A moment she hovered

like a shadow of death above him; then her arm sank and she laughed.

'Freedom? She will find her freedom when the Moon of Skulls leers down

on the black altar. As for you, you shall rot in this dungeon. You are

a fool; Africa's greatest queen has offered you her love and the

empire of the world--and you revile her! You love the slave girl,

perhaps? Until the Moon of Skulls she is mine and I leave you to think

about this: that she shall be punished as I have punished her before--

hung up by her wrists, naked, and whipped until she swoons!"

Nakari Laughed as Kane tore savagely at his shackles. She crossed to

the door, opened it, then hesitated and turned back for another word.

"This is a foul place, bold one. and maybe you hate me the more for

chaining you here. Maybe in Nakari's beautiful throne room, with

wealth and luxury spread before you, you will look upon her with more

favour. Very soon I shall send for you, but first I will leave you

here awhile to reflect. Remember--love Nakari and the kingdom of the

world is yours; hate her--this cell is your realm."

The bronze door clanged sullenly, but more hateful to the imprisoned

Englishman was venomous, silvery laugh of Nakari.

Time passed slowly in the darkness. After what seemed a long time the

door opened again, this time to admit a huge warrior who brought food

and a sort of thin wine. Kane ate and drank ravenously and afterward

slept. The strain of the last few days had worn him greatly, mentally

and physically, but when he awoke he felt fresh and strong,

Again the door opened and two great savage warriors entered. In the

light of the torches they bore, Kane saw that they were giants, clad

in loin-cloths and ostrich plume headgear, and bearing long spears in

their hands.

"Nakari wishes you to come to her, white man," was all they said, as

they took off his shackles. He arose, exultant in even brief freedom,

his keen brain working fiercely for a way of escape.

Evidently the fame of his prowess had spread, tor the two warriors

showed great respect for him. They motioned him to precede them, and

walked carefully behind him, the points of their spears boring into

his back. Though they were two to one, and he was unarmed, they were

taking no chances. The gazes they directed at him were full of awe and

suspicion.

Down a long. dark corridor they went, his captors guiding him with

light prods of their spears, up a narrow winding stair, down another

passageway, up another stair, and then they emerged into the vast maze

of gigantic pillars into which Kane had first come. As they started

down this huge hall, Kane's eyes suddenly fell on a strange and

fantastic picture painted on the wall ahead of him. His heart gave s

sudden leap as he recognized it. It was some distance in front of him

and he edged imperceptibly toward the wall until he and his guards

were walking along very close to it. Now he was almost abreast of the

picture and could even make out the mark his dagger had made upon it.

The warriors following Kane were amazed to I hear him gasp suddenly

like a man struck by a spear. He wavered in his stride and began

clutching at the air for support.

They eyed each other doubtfully and prodded him, but he cried out like

a dying man and slowly crumpled to the floor, where he lay in a

strange, unnatural position, one leg doubled back under him and one

arm half supporting his lolling body.

The guards looked at him fearfully. To all appearances he was dying,

but mere was no wound upon him. They threatened him with their spears,

but he paid no heed. Then they lowered their weapons uncertainly and

one of them bent over him.

Then it happened. The instant the guard stooped forward. Kane came up

like a steel spring released. His right fist following his motion

curved up from the hip in a whistling half-circle and crashed against

the warrior's jaw. Delivered with all the power of arm and shoulder,

propelled by the upthrust of the powerful legs as Kane straightened,

the blow was like that of a sling-- shot. The guard slumped to the

floor, unconscious before his knees gave way.

The other warrior plunged forward with a bellow, but even as his

victim fell, Kane twisted, aside and his frantic hand found the secret

spring; in the painting and pressed.

All happened in the breath of a second. Quick, as the warrior was,

Kane was quicker, for he. moved with the dynamic speed of a famished

wolf. For an instant the falling body of the senseless, guard hindered

the other warrior's thrust, and in that instant Kane felt the hidden

door give way. From the corner of his eye he saw a long gleam of steel

shooting for his heart. He twisted about and hurled himself against

the door, vanishing through it even as the stabbing spear slit the

skin on his shoulder.

To the dazed and bewildered warrior, standing there with weapon

upraised for another thrust, it seemed as if his prisoner had simply

vanished through a solid wall, for only a fantastic picture met his

gaze and this did not give to his efforts.

CHAPTER V. "FOR A THOUSAND YEARS--"

Kane slammed the hidden door shut behind him, jammed down the spring

and for a moment leaned against it, every muscle tensed, expecting to

hold it against the efforts of a horde of spearmen. But nothing of the

sort materialized. He heard his guard fumbling outside for a time;

then that sound, too, ceased. It seemed impossible that these people

should have lived in this palace as long as they had without

discovering the secret doors and passages, but it was a conclusion

which forced itself upon Kane's mind. At last he decided that he was

safe from pursuit for the time being, and turning, started down the

long, narrow corridor with its eon-old dust and its dim grey light. He

felt baffled and furious, though he was free from Nakari's shackles.

He had no idea how long he had been in the palace; it seemed ages. It

must be day now, for it was light in the outer halls, 'and he had seen

no torches after they had left the subterranean dungeons. He wondered

if Nakari had carried out her threat of vengeance on the helpless

girl, and swore passionately. Free for the time being, yes; but

unarmed and hunted through this infernal palace like a rat. How could

he aid either himself or Marylin? But his confidence never faltered.

He was in the right and some way would present itself. Suddenly a

narrow stairway branched off the main passageway, and up this he went,

the light growing stronger and stronger until he stood in the full

glare of the African sunlight. The stair terminated in a sort of small

landing directly in front of which was a tiny window, heavily barred.

Through this he saw the blue sky tinted gold with the blazing

sunlight, the sight was like wine to him and he drew in deep breaths

of fresh, untainted air, breathing deep as if to rid his lungs of the

aura of dust and decayed grandeur through which he had been passing.

He was looking out over a weird and bizarre landscape. Far to the

right and the left loomed up great black crags and beneath them there

reared castles and towers of stone, of strange architecture--it was as

if giants from some other planet had thrown them up in a wild and

chaotic debauch of creation. These buildings were backed solidly

against the cliffs, and Kane knew that Nakari's palace also must be

built into the wall of the crag behind it. He seemed to be in the

front of that palace in a sort of minaret built on the outer wall. But

there was only one window in it and his view was limited.

Far below him through the winding and narrow streets of that strange

city, swarms of people went to and fro, seeming like black ants to the

watcher above. East, north and south, the cliffs formed a natural

bulwark; only to the west was a built wall.

The sun was sinking west. Kane turned reluctantly from the barred

window and went down the stairs again.. Again he paced down the narrow

grey corridor, aimlessly and planlessly, for what Seemed miles and

miles. He descended lower and lower into passages that lay below

passages. The light grew dimmer, and a dank slime appeared on the

walls. Then Kane halted, a faint sound from beyond the wall arresting

him. What was that? A faint rattle--the rattle of chains.

Kane leaned close to the wall, and in the semi-darkness his hand

encountered a rusty spring. He worked at it cautiously and presently

felt the hidden door it betokened swing inward. He gazed out warily.

He was looking into a cell, the counterpart of the one in which he had

been confined. A smouldering torch was thrust into a niche on the

wall, and by its lurid and flickering light he made out a form on the

floor, shackled wrist and ankle as he had been shackled.

A man; at first Kane thought him to be a native, but a second glance

made him doubt. His skin was dark, but his features were finely

chiselled, and he possessed a high, magnificent forehead, hard vibrant

eyes, and straight dark hair.

The man spoke in an-unfamiliar dialect, one which was strangely

distinct and clear-cut in contrast to the guttural jargon of the

natives with whom Kane was familiar. The Englishman spoke in English,

and then in the language of the river tribes.

"You who come through the ancient door," said the other in the latter

dialect, "who are you? You are no savage--at first I thought you one

of the Old Race, but now I see you are not as they. Whence come you?"

"I am Solomon Kane," said the Puritan, "a prisoner in this devil-city.

I come from far across the blue salt sea."

The man's eyes lighted at the word.

"The sea' The ancient and everlasting! The sea which I have never

seen, but which cradled the glory of my ancestors! Tell me, stranger,

have you, like they, sailed across the breast of the great blue

monster, and have your eyes looked on the golden spires of Atlantis

and the crimson walls of Mu?"

"Truly," answered Solomon uncertainly. "I have sailed the seas, even

to Hindostan and Cathay, but of the countries you mention I know

nothing."

"Nay," the other sighed. "I dream--I dream. Already the shadow of the

great night falls across my brain and my words wander. Stranger, there

have been times when these cold walls and floor have seemed to melt

into green, surging deeps and my soul was filled with the deep booming

of the everlasting sea. I who have never seen the sea!"

Kane shuddered involuntarily. Surely this man was insane. Suddenly the

other shot out a withered, claw-like hand and gripped his arm, despite

the hampering chain,

"You whose skin is so strangely fair' Have you seen Nakari, the she-

fiend who rules this crumbling city?"

"I have seen her," said Kane grimly, "and now I flee like a hunted rat

from her murderers."

"You hate her !" the other cried. "Ha, I know! You seek Mara, the

white girl who is her slave?"

"Aye."

"Listen," the shackled one spoke with strange solemnity; "I am dying.

Nakari's rack has done its work. I die and with me dies the shadow of

the glory that was my nation's. For I am the last of my race. In all

the world there is none like me. Hark now, to the voice of a dying

race."

And Kane leaning there in the flickering semi-darkness of the cell

heard the strangest tale to which man has ever listened, brought out

of the mist of the dim dawn ages by the lips of delirium. Clear and

distinct the words fell from the dying man and Kane alternately burned

and froze as vista after gigantic vista of time and space swept up

before him.

"Long eons ago--ages, ages ago--the empire of my race rose proudly

above the waves. So long ago was it that no man remembers an ancestor

who remembered it. In a great land to the west our cities rose. Our

golden spires split the stars; our purple-prowed galleys broke the

waves around the world, looting the sunset for its treasure and the

sunrise for its wealth.

"Our legions swept forth to the north and to the south, to the west

and the east, and none could stand before them. Our cities banded the

world; we sent our colonies to all lands to subdue all savages, men of

all colours, and enslave them. They toiled for us in the mines and at

the galley's oars. All over the world the people of Atlantis reigned

supreme. We were a sea-people, and we delved the deeps of all the

oceans. The mysteries were known to us, and the secret things of land

and sea and sky. We read the stars and were wise. Sons of the sea, we

exalted him above all others.

"We worshipped Valka and Hotah, Honen and Golgor. Many virgins, many

strong youths, died on their altars and the smoke of the shrines

blotted out the sun. Then the sea rose and shook himself. He thundered

from his abyss and the thrones of the world fell before him! New lands

rose from the deep and Atlantis and Mu were swallowed up by the gulf.

The green sea roared through the fanes and the castles, and the sea-

weed encrusted the golden spires and the topaz towers. The empire of

Atlantis vanished and was forgotten, passing into the everlasting gulf

of time and oblivion. Likewise the colony cities in barbaric lands,

cut off from their mother kingdom, perished. The savage barbarians

rose and burned and destroyed until in all the world only the colony

city of Negari remained as a symbol of the lost empire.

"Here my ancestors ruled as kings, and the ancestors of Nakari--the

she-cat I--bent the knee of slavery to them. Years passed, stretching

into centuries. The empire of Negari dwindled. Tribe after tribe rose

and flung off the chains. pressing the lines back from the sea, until

at last the sons of Atlantis gave way entirely and retreated into the

city itself--the last stronghold of the race. Conquerors no longer,

hemmed in by ferocious tribes, yet they held those tribes at bay for a

thousand years. Negari was invincible from without; her walls held

firm; but within evil influences were at work.' "The sons of Atlantis

had brought their slaves into the city with them. The rulers were

warriors, scholars, priests, artisans; they did no menial work. For

that they depended upon the slaves. There were more of these slaves

than there were masters. And they increased while the sons of Atlantis

dwindled.

"They mixed with each other more and more as the race degenerated

until at last only the priestcraft was free of the taint of savage

blood. Rulers sat on the throne of Negari who possessed little of the

blood of Atlantis, and these allowed more and more wild tribesmen to

enter the city in the guise of servants, mercenaries and friends.

"Then came a day when these fierce slaves revolted and slew all who

bore a trace of the blood of Atlantis, except the priests and their

families. These they imprisoned as 'fetish people'. For a thousand

years savages have ruled in Negari, their kings guided by the captive

priests, who though prisoners, were yet the masters of kings." Kane

listened enthralled. To his imaginative mind, the tale burned and

lived with strange fire from cosmic time and space.

"After all the sons of Atlantis, save the priests, were dead, there

rose a great king to the defiled throne of ancient Negari. He was a

tiger and his warriors were like leopards. They called themselves

Negari, ravishing even the name of their former masters, and none

could stand before them. They swept the land from sea to sea, and the

smoke of destruction put out the stars. The great river ran red and

the new lords of Negari strode above the corpses of their tribal foes.

Then the great king died and the empire crumbled, even as the

Atlantean kingdom of Negari had crumbled.

"They were skilled in war. The dead sons of Atlantis, their former

masters, had trained them well in the ways of battle, and against the

wild tribesmen they were invincible. But only the ways of war had they

learned, and the empire was torn with civil strife. Murder and

intrigue stalked redhanded through the palaces and the streets, and

the boundaries of the empire dwindled and dwindled. All the while,

savage kings with red, frenzied brains sat on the throne, and behind

the curtains, unseen but greatly feared, the Atlantean priests guided

the nation, holding it together, keeping it from absolute destruction.

"Prisoners in the city were we, for there was nowhere else in the

world to go. We moved like ghosts through the secret passages in the

walls and under the earth, spying on intrigue and doing secret magic.

We upheld the cause of the royal family--the descendants of that

tiger-like king of long ago--against all plotting chiefs, and grim are

the tales which these silent walls could tell.

"These savages are not like the other natives of the region. A latent

insanity lurks in the brains of every one. They have tasted so deeply

and so long of slaughter and victory that they are as human leopards,

forever thirsting for blood. On their myriad wretched slaves they have

sated all lusts and desires until they have become foul and terrible

beasts, forever seeking some new sensation, forever quenching their

fearful thirsts in blood.

"Like a lion have they lurked in these crags for a thousand years, to

rush forth and ravage the jungle and river people, enslaving and

destroying. They are still invincible from without, though their

possessions have dwindled to the very walls of this city, and their

former great conquests and invasions have dwindled to raids for

slaves.

"But as they faded, so too faded their secret masters, the Atlantean

priests. One by one they died, until only I remained. In the last

century they too have mixed with their rulers and slaves, and now--oh,

the shame upon me!--I, the last son of Atlantis, bear in my veins the

taint of barbarian blood. They died; I remained, doing magic and

guiding the savage kings, I the last priest of Negari. Then the she-

fiend, Nakari, arose."

Kane leaned forward with quickened interest. New life surged into the

tale as it touched upon his own time.

"Nakari!" the name was spat as a snake hisses; "slave and the daughter

of a slave! Yet she prevailed when her hour came and all the royal

family died.

"And me, the last son of Atlantis, me she prisoned and chained. She

feared not the silent Atlantean priests, for she was the daughter of a

Satellite--one of the lesser, native priests. They were men who did

the menial work of the masters--performing the lesser sacrifices,

divining from the livers of fowls and serpents and keeping the holy

fires for ever burning. Much she knew of us and our ways, and evil

ambition burned in her.

"As a child she danced in the March of the New Moon, and as a young

girl she was one of the Starmaidens. Much of the lesser mysteries was

known to her, and more she learned, spying upon the secret rites of

the priests who enacted hidden rituals that were old when the earth

was young.

"For the remnants of Atlantis secretly kept alive the old worships of

Valka and Hotah, Honen and Golgor, long forgotten and not to be

understood by these savage people whose ancestors died screaming on

their altars. Alone of all the savage Negari, she feared us not.

Nakari not only overthrew the king and set herself on the throne, but

she dominated the priests--the Satellites and the few Atlantean

masters who were left. All these last, save me, died beneath the

daggers of her assassins or on her racks. She alone of all the myriad

savage thousands who have lived and died between these walls guessed

at the hidden pass-ages and subterranean corridors, secrets which we

of the priestcraft had guarded jealously from the people for a

thousand years.

"Ha! Ha! Blind, savage fools! To pass an ageless age in this city, yet

never to learn of the secrets thereof! Apes--fools! Not even the

lesser priests know of the long grey corridors, lit by phosphorescent

ceilings, through which in bygone ages strange forms have glided

silently. For our ancestors built Negari as they built Atlantis on a

mighty scale and with an unknown art. Not for men alone did we build,

but for the gods who moved unseen among us. And deep the secrets these

ancient walls hold!

"Torture could not wring these secrets from our lips, but shackled in

her dungeons, we trod our hidden corridors no more. For years the dust

has gathered there, untouched by human foot, while we, and finally I

alone, lay chained in these foul cells. And among the temples and the

dark, mysterious shrines of old, move vile Satellites, elevated by

Nakari to glories that were once mine--for I am the last Atlantean

high priest.

"Their doom is ascertained, and red will be their ruin' Valka and

Golgor, gods lost and forgotten, whose memory shall die with me,

strike down their walls and humble them unto the dust! Break the

altars of their blind pagan gods--"

Kane realized that the man was wandering in his mind. The keen brain

had begun to crumble at last.

"Tell me," said he; "you mentioned the fair girl. Mara. What do you

know of her?"

"She was brought to Negari years ago by raiders," the other answered,

"only a few years after the rise of the savage queen, whose slave she

is. Little of her I know, for shortly after her arrival. Nakari turned

on me--and the years that lie between have been grim dark years, shot

red with torture and agony. Here I have lain. hampered by my chains

from escape which lay in that door through which you entered--and for

me knowledge of which Nakari has torn me on racks and suspended me

over slow fires."

Kane shuddered. "You know not if they have so misused the white girl?

Her eyes are haunted. and she has wasted away."

"She has danced with the Starmaidens at Nakari's command, and has

looked on the bloody and terrible rites of me Black Temple. She has

lived for years among a people with whom blood is cheaper than water,

who delight in slaughter and foul torture, and such sights as she has

looked upon would blast the eyes and wither the flesh of strong men.

She has seen the victims of Nakura die amid horrid torments, and the

sight is burned forever in the brain of the beholder. The rites of the

Atlanteans the savages took whereby to honour their own crude gods,

and though the essence of those rites is lost in the wasting years,

yet even Nakari's minions perform them, they are not such as men can

look on, unshaken."

Kane was thinking: "A fair day for the world when this Atlantis sank,

for most certainly it bred a race of strange and unknown evil." Aloud

he said; "Who Is this Master of whom Nakari spake, and what meant she

by calling Mara his bride?"

"Nakura--Nakura. The skull of evil, the symbol of Death that they

worship. What know these savages of the gods of sea-girt Atlantis?

What know they of the dread and unseen gods whom their masters

worshipped with majestic and mysterious rites ? They understand

not of the un-seen essence, the invisible deity that reigns in the air

and the elements; they must worship a material object, endowed with

human shape. Nakura was the last great wizard of Atlantean Negari. A

renegade he was, who conspired against his own people and aided the

revolt of the savages. In life they followed him and in death they

deified him. High in the Tower of Death his fleshless skull is set,

and on that skull hinge the brains of all the people of Negari.

"Nay, we of Atlantis worshipped Death, but we likewise worshipped

Life. These people worship only Death and call themselves Sons of

Death. And the skull of Nakura has been to them for a thousand years

the symbol of their power, the evidence of their greatness.

"Do you mean," Kane broke in impatiently on these ramblings, "that

they will sacrifice the girl to their god?"

"In the Moon of Skulls she will die on the Black Altar."

"What in God's name is this Moon of Skulls?" Kane cried passionately.

"The full moon. At the full of each moon, which we name the Moon of

Skulls, a virgin dies on the Black Altar before the Tower of Death,

where centuries ago, virgins died in honour of Golgor, the god of

Atlantis. Now from the face of the tower that once housed the glory of

Golgor, leers down the skull of the renegade wizard, and the people

believe that his brain still lives therein to guide the star of the

city. For look ye, stranger, when the full moon gleams over the rim of

the tower and the chant of the priests falls silent, then from the

skull of Nakura thunders a great voice, raised in an ancient Atlantean

chant, and the people fall on their faces before it.

"But hark, there is a secret way, a stair leading up to a hidden niche

behind the skull, and there a priest lurks and chants. In days gone by

one of the sons of Atlantis had this office, and by all rights of men

and gods it should be mine this day. For though we sons of Atlantis

worshipped our ancient gods in secret, these savages would have none

of them. To hold our power we were devotees to their foul gods and we

sang and sacrificed to him whose memory we cursed.

"But Nakari discovered the secret, known before only to the Atlantean

priests, and now one of her Satellites mounts the hidden stair and

yammers forth the strange and terrible chant which is but meaningless

gibberish to him, as to those who hear it. I, and only I, know it's

grim and fearful meaning."

Kane's brain whirled in his efforts to formulate some plan of action.

For the first time during the whole search for the girl, he felt

himself against a blank wall. The palace was a labyrinth. a maze in

which he could decide no direction. The corridors seemed to run

without plan or purpose, and how could he find Marylin, prisoned as

she doubtless was in one of the myriad chambers or cells? Or had she

already passed over the borderline of life, or succumbed to the brutal

torture-lust of Nakari ?

He scarcely heard me ravings and mutterings of the dying man.

"Stranger, do you indeed live or are you but one of the ghosts which

have haunted me of late, stealing through the darkness of my cell?

Nay, you are flesh and blood--but you are a savage, even as Nakari's

race are savages. Eons ago when your ancestors were defending their

caves against the tiger and the mammoth, with crude spears of flint,

the gold spires of my people split the stars I They are gone and

forgotten, and the world is a waste of barbarians. Let me, too, pass

as a dream that is forgotten in She mists of the ages--" Kane rose and

paced the cell. His fingers closed like steel talons as on a sword

hilt and a blind red wave of fury surged through his brain. Oh God! to

get his foes before the keen blade that had been taken from him--to

face the whole city, one man against them all ~-

Kane pressed his hands against his temples.

"The moon was nearly full when last I saw it. But I know not how long

ago' that was. I know not how long I have been in this accursed

palace, or how long I lay in that dungeon where Nakari threw me. The

time of full moon may be past, and--oh merciful God!--Marylin may be

dead already."

"Tonight is the Moon of Skulls," muttered the other; "I heard one of

my jailers speak of it."

Kane gripped the dying man's shoulder with unconscious force.

"If you hate Nakari or love mankind, in God's name tell me how to save

the child."

"Love mankind?" the priest laughed insanely.

"What has a son of Atlantis and a priest of forgotten Golgor to do

with love ? What are mortals but food for the jaws of the

gods ? Softer girls than your Mara have died screaming beneath

these hands and my heart was as iron to their cries . Yet hate"--the

strange eyes flamed with fearful light--"for hate I will tell you what

you wish to know!

"Go to the Tower of Death when the moon is risen. Slay the false

priest who lurks behind the skull of Nakura, and then when the

chanting of the worshippers below ceases, and the masked slayer beside

the Black Altar raises the sacrificial dagger, speak in a loud voice

that the people can understand, bidding them set free the victim and

offer up instead, Nakari, queen of Negari!

"As for the rest, afterward you must rely on your own craft and

prowess if you come free."

Kane shook him.

"Swift! Tell me how I am to reach this tower!"

"Go back through the door whence you came." The man was sinking fast,

his words dropped to whispers. "Turn to the left and go a hundred

paces. Mount the stair you come to, as high as it goes. In the

corridor where it ceases go straight for another hundred paces, and

when you come to what seems a blank wall, feel over it until you find

a projecting spring. Press this and enter the door which will open.

You will then be out of the palace and in the cliffs against which it

is built, and in the only one of the secret corridors known to the

people of Negari. Turn to your right and go straight down the passage

for five hundred paces. There you will come to a stair, which leads up

to the niche behind the skull. The Tower of Death is built into the

cliff and projects above it. There are two stairs--"

Suddenly the voice trailed out. Kane leaned forward and shook the man,

and the priest suddenly rose up with a great effort. His eyes blazed

with a wild and unearthly light and he flung his shackled arms wide.

"The sea!" he cried in a great voice. "The golden spires of Atlantis

and the sun on the deep blue waters! I come!"

And as Kane reached to lay him down again, he slumped back, dead.

CHAPTER VI. THE SHATTERING OF THE SKULL

Kane wiped the cold sweat from his pale brow as he hurried down the

shadowy passage. Outside this horrible palace it must be night. Even

now the full moon--the grim Moon of Skulls--might be rising above the

horizon. He paced off a hundred paces and came upon the stair the

dying priest had mentioned. This he mounted, and coming into the

corridor above, he measured off another hundred paces and brought up

short against what appeared to be a door-less wall. It seemed an age

before his frantic fingers found a piece of projecting metal. There

was a creak of rusty hinges as the hidden door swung open and Kane

looked into a passageway darker than the one in which he stood.

He entered, and when the door shut behind him he turned to his right

and groped his way along for five hundred paces. There the corridor

was lighter; light sifted in from without, and Kane discerned a

stairway. Up this he went for several steps, then halted, baffled. At

a sort of landing the stairway became two, one leading away to the

left, the other to the right. Kane cursed. He felt that he could not

afford to make a mistake--time was too precious--but how was he to

know which would lead him to the niche where the priest hid?

The Atlantean had been about to tell him of these stairs when struck

by the delirium which precedes death, and Kane wished fervently that

he had lived only a few moments longer.

At any rate, he had no time to waste; right or wrong, he must chance

it. He chose the right hand stair and ran swiftly up it. No time for

caution now.

He felt instinctively that the time of sacrifice was close at hand. He

came into another passage and discerned by the change in masonry that

he was out of the cliffs again and in some building--presumably the

Tower of Death. He expected any moment to come upon another stair, and

suddenly his expectations were realized--but instead of up, it led

down. From somewhere in front of him Kane heard a vague, rhythmic

murmur and a cold hand gripped his heart. The chanting of the

worshippers before--the Black Altar!

He raced forward recklessly, rounded a turn in the corridor, brought

up short against a door and looked through a tiny aperture. His heart

sank. He had chosen the wrong stair and had wandered into some other

building adjoining the Tower of Death.

He looked upon a grim and terrible scene. In a wide open space before

a great black tower whose spire rose above the crags behind it, two

long lines of savage dancers swayed and writhed. Their voices rose in

a strange meaningless chant, and they did not move from their tracks.

From their knees upward their bodies swayed in fantastic rhythmical

motions, and in their hands torches tossed and whirled, shedding a

lurid shifting red light over the scene. Behind them were ranged a

vast concourse of people who stood silent.

The dancing torchlight gleamed on a sea of glittering eyes and eager

faces, In front of the dancers rose the Tower of Death, gigantically

tall, black and horrific. No door or window opened in its face, but

high on the wall in a sort of ornamented frame there leered a grim

symbol of death and decay. The skull of Nakura! A faint, eery glow

surrounded it, lit somehow from within the tower, Kane knew, and

wondered by what strange art the priests had kept the skull from decay

and dissolution so long.

But it was neither the skull nor the tower which gripped the Puritan's

horrified gaze and held it. Between the converging lines of yelling,

swaying worshippers there rose a great black altar. On this-altar lay

a slim, white shape.

"Marylin!" the word burst from Kane's lips in a great sob.

For a moment he stood frozen, helpless, struck blind. No time now to

retrace his steps and find the niche where the skull priest lurked.

Even now a faint glow was apparent behind the spire of the tower,

etching that spire blackly against me sky. The moon had risen. The

chant of the dancers soared up to a frenzy of sound, and from the

silent watchers behind them began a sinister low rumble of drums. To

Kane's dazed mind it seemed that he looked on some red debauch of a

lower Hell.

What ghastly worship of past eons did these perverted and degenerate

rites symbolize? Kane knew that these people aped the rituals of their

former masters in their crude way, and even in his despair he found

time to shudder at the thought of what those original rites must have

been.

Now a fearful shape rose up beside the altar where lay the silent

girl. A tall figure, entirely naked save for a hideous painted mask on

his face and a great" head-dress of waving plumes. The drone of the

chant sank low for an instant, then rose up again to wilder heights.

Was it the vibrations of their song that made the floor quiver beneath

Kane's feet?

Kane with shaking fingers began to unbar the door. Naught to do now

but to rush out barehanded and die beside the girl he could not save.

Then his gaze was blocked by a giant form which shouldered in front of

the door. A huge man, a chief by his bearing and apparel, leaned idly

against the wall as he watched the proceedings. Kane's heart gave a

great leap. This was too good to be true' Thrust in the chief's girdle

was the pistol that he himself had carried! He knew that his weapons

must have been divided among his captors. This pistol meant nothing to

the chief, but he must have been taken by its strange shape and was

carrying it as savages will wear useless trinkets. Or perhaps he

thought it a sort of war-club. At any rate, there it was. And again'

floor and building seemed to tremble.

Kane pulled the door silently inward and crouched in the shadows

behind his victim like a great brooding tiger.

His brain worked swiftly and formulated his plan of action. There was

a dagger in the girdle beside the pistol; the chief's back was turned

squarely to him and he must strike from the left to reach the heart

and silence him quickly. All this passed through Solomon's brain in a

flash as he crouched.

The chief was not aware of his foe's presence until Kane's lean right

hand shot across his shoulder and clamped on his mouth, jerking him

backward. At the same instant the Puritan's left hand tore the dagger

from the girdle and with one desperate plunge sank the keen blade

home.

The warrior crumpled without a sound and in an instant Kane's pistol

was in its owner's hand. A second's investigation showed that it was

still loaded and the flint still in place. No one had seen the swift

murder. Those few who stood near the doorway were all facing the Black

Altar, enwrapped in the drama, which was there unfolding. As Kane

stepped across the corpse, the chanting of the dancers ceased

abruptly. In the instant of silence which followed, Kane heard, above

the pounding-of his own pulse, the night wind rustle the death-like

plumes of the masked horror beside the altar. A rim of the moon glowed

above the spire. Then, from high up on the face of the Tower of Death,

a deep voice boomed out in a strange chant Mayhap the priest who spoke

behind the skull knew not what his words meant, but Kane believed that

he at least mimicked the very intonation of those long-dead Atlantean

acolytes. Deep, mystic, resonant the voice sounded out, like the

endless flowing of long tides on the broad white beaches.

The masked one beside the altar drew himself up to his great height

and raised a long, glimmering blade. Kane recognized his own sword,

even as he levelled his pistol and fired--not at the masked priest but

full at the skull which gleamed in the face of the tower. For in one

blinding flash of intuition he remembered the dying Atlantean's words:

"Their brains hinge on the skull of Nakura!"

Simultaneously with the crack of the pistol came a shattering crash;

the dry skull flew into a thousand pieces and vanished, and behind it

the chant broke off short in a death shriek. The rapier fell from the

hand of the masked priest and many of the dancers crumpled to the

earth, the others halting short, spellbound. Through the deathly

silence which reigned for an instant, Kane rushed toward the altar;

then all Hell broke loose.

A babel of bestial screams rose to the shuddering stars. For centuries

only their faith in the dead Nakura had held together the

blooddrenched brains of the savage Negari. Now their symbol had

vanished, had been blasted into nothing before their eyes. It was to

them as if the skies had split, the moon fallen and the world ended.

All the red visions which lurked at the backs of their corroded brains

leaped into fearful life, all the latent insanity which was their

heritage rose to claim its own, and Kane looked upon a whole nation

turned to bellowing maniacs.

Screaming and roaring they turned on each other, men and women,

tearing with frenzied fingernails, stabbing with spears with daggers,

beating each other with the flaming torchies, while over all rose the

roar of frantic human beasts.

With clubbed pistol Kane battered his way through the surging,

writhing ocean of flesh, to the foot of the altar stairs. Nails raked

him, knives slashed at him, torches scorched his garments, but he paid

no heed.

Then as he reached the altar, a terrible figure broke from the

struggling mass and charged him. Nakari, queen of Negari, crazed as

any of her subjects, rushed upon the Englishman with dagger bared and

eyes horribly aflame.

"You shall not escape this time!" she was screaming, but before she

reached him a great warrior, dripping blood and blind from a gash

across his eyes, reeled across her path and lurched into her. She

screamed like a wounded cat and struck her dagger into him, and then

groping hands closed on her. The blind giant whirled her on high with

one dying effort, and her last scream knifed the din of battle as

Nakari, last queen of Negari, crashed against the stones of the altar

and fell shattered and dead at Kane's feet. Kane sprang up the black

steps, worn deep by the feet of myriad priests and victims, and as he

came, the masked figure, who had stood like one turned to stone, came

suddenly to life. He bent swiftly, caught up the sword he had dropped

and thrust savagely at the charging Englishman. But the dynamic

quickness of Solomon Kane was such as few men could match. A twist and

sway of his steely body and he was inside the thrust, and as the blade

slid harmlessly between arm and chest, he brought down the heavy

pistol barrel among the waving plumes, crushing headdress, mask and

skull with one blow. Then ere he turned to the fainting girl who lay

bound on the altar, he flung aside the shattered pistol and snatched

his stolen sword from the nerveless hand which still grasped it,

feeling a fierce thrill of renewed confidence at the familiar feel of

the hilt. Marylin lay white and silent, her death-like face turned

blindly to the light of the moon which shone calmly down on the

frenzied scene. At first Kane thought her to be dead, but his

searching fingers detected a faint flutter of pulse. He cut her bonds

and lifted her tenderly--only to drop her again and whirl as a

hideous, blood-stained figure of insanity came leaping and gibbering

up the steps. Full upon Kane's outthrust blade the creature ran, and

toppled back into the red swirl below, clawing beast-like at its

mortal wound. Then beneath Kane's feet the altar rocked; a sudden

tremor hurled him to his knees and his horrified eyes beheld the Tower

of Death sway to and fro. Some horror of Nature was taking place, and

this fact pierced the crumbling brains of the fiends who fought and

screamed below. A new element entered into their shrieking, and then

the Tower of Death swayed far out with a terrible and awesome

majesty--broke from the rocking crags and--gave way with a thunder of

crashing worlds. Great stones and shards of masonry came raining down,

bringing death and destruction to hundreds of screaming humans below.

One of these stones crashed to pieces on the altar beside Kane,

showering him with dust.

"Earthquake!" he gasped, and smitten by this new terror he caught up

the senseless girl and plunged recklessly down the cracking steps,

hacking and stabbing a way through the crimson whirlpools of bestial

humanity that still tore and ravened. The rest was a red nightmare in

which Kane's dazed brain refused to record all its horrors. It seemed

that for screaming crimson centuries he reeled through narrow winding

streets where bellowing, screeching demons battled and died, among

titanic walls and black columns that rocked against the sky and

crashed to ruin about him, while the earth heaved and trembled beneath

his staggering feet and the thunder of crashing towers filled the

world.

Gibbering fiends in human shape clutched and clawed at him, to fade

before his flailing sword, and falling stones bruised and battered

him. He crouched as he reeled along, covering the girl with his body

as best he could, sheltering her alike from blind stone and blinder

human.

At last, when it seemed mortal endurance had reached its limit, he saw

the great black outer wall of the city loom before him, rent from

earth; to parapet and tottering for its fall. He dashed through a

crevice, and gathering his efforts, made one last sprint. And scarce

was he out of reach than the wall crashed, falling inward like a great

black wave.

The night wind was in his face and behind him rose the clamour of the

doomed city as Kane staggered down the hill path that trembled beneath

his feet.

CHAPTER VII. THE FAITH OF SOLOMON

Dawn lay like a cool white hand on the brow of Solomon Kane. The

nightmares faded from his soul as he breathed deep of the morning wind

which blew up from the jungle far below his feet--a wind laden with

the musk of decaying vegetation. Yet it was like the breath of life to

him, for the scents were those of the clean natural disintegration of

outdoor Slings, not the loathsome aura of decadent antiquity that

lurks in the walls of eon-old cities--Kane shuddered involuntarily.

He bent over the sleeping girl who lay at his feet, arranged as

comfortably as possible with the few soft tree branches he had been

able to find for her bed. Now she opened her eyes and stared about

wildly for an instant; then as her gaze met the face of Solomon,

lighted by one of his rare smiles, she gave a little sob of

thankfulness and clung to him.

"Oh. Captain Kane! Have we in truth escaped from yon fearful city? Now

it seems all like a dream--after you fell through the secret door in

my chamber Nakari later went to your dungeon as she told me--and

returned in vile humour. She said you were a fool, for she had offered

you the kingdom of the world and you had but insulted her. She

screamed and raved and cursed like one insane and swore that she would

yet, alone, build a great empire of Negari.

Then she turned on me and reviled me, saying that you held me--a

slave--in more esteem than a queen and all her glory. And in spite of

my pleas she took me across her knees and whipped me until I swooned.

"Afterward I lay half senseless for a long time, and was only dimly

aware that men came to Nakari and said that you had escaped. They said

you were a sorcerer, for you faded through a solid wall like a ghost.

But Nakari killed the men who had brought you from the cell, and for

hours she was like a wild beast.

"How long I lay thus I know not. In those terrible rooms and corridors

where no natural sunlight ever entered, one lost all track of time.

But from the time you were captured by Nakari and the time that I was

placed on the altar, at least a day and a night and another day must

have passed. It was only a few hours before the sacrifice that word

came you had escaped.

"Nakari and her Star-maidens came to prepare me for the rite." At the

bare memory of that fearful ordeal she whimpered and hid her face in

her hands. "I must have been drugged " I only know that they clothed

me in the white robe of the sacrifice and carried me into a great

black chamber filled with horrid statues.

"There I lay for a space like one in a trance, while the women

performed various strange and shameful rites according to their grim

religion. Then I fell into a swoon, and when I emerged I was lying

bound on the Black Altar--the torches were tossing and the devotees

chanting--behind the Tower of Death the rising moon was beginning to

glow--all this I knew faintly, as in a deep dream. And as in a dream I

saw the glowing skull high on the tower--and the gaunt, naked priest

holding a sword above my heart, then I knew no more. What happened? "

"At about that moment," Kane answered, "I emerged from a building

wherein I had wandered by mistake, and blasted their hellish skull to

atoms with a pistol ball. Whereupon, all these people, being cursed

from birth by demons, and being likewise possessed of devils, fell to

slaying one another, in the midst of the tumult an earthquake cometh

to pass which shakes the walls down. Then I snatch you up, and running

at random, come upon a rent in the outer wall and thereby escape,

carrying you, who seem in a swoon.

"Once only you awoke, after I had crossed the Bridge-Across-the-Sky,

as the people of Negari called it, which was crumbling beneath our

feet by reason of the earthquake. After I had come to these cliffs,

but dared not descend them in the darkness, the moon being nigh to

setting by that--time, you awoke and screamed and clung to me,

whereupon I soothed you as best I might, and after a time you fell

into a natural sleep."

"And now what?" asked the girl.

"England!" Kane's deep eyes lighted at the word. "I find it hard to

remain in the land of my birth for more than a month at a time; yet

though I am cursed with the wanderlust, 'tis a name which ever rouses

a glow in my bosom. And how of you, child?"

"Oh heaven!" she cried, clasping her small hands. "Home! Something of

which to be dreamed--never attained, I fear. Oh Captain Kane, how

shall we gain through all the vast leagues of jungle which lie between

this place and the coast?"

"Marylin," said Kane gently, stroking her' curly hair, "methinks you

lack somewhat in faith, both in Providence and in me. Nay, alone I am

a weak creature, having no strength or might In me; yet in times past

hath God made me a great vessel of wrath and a sword of deliverance.

And, I trust, shall do so again.

"Look you, little Marylin: in the last few hours as it were, we have

seen the passing of an evil race and the fall of a foul empire. Men

died by thousands about us, and the earth rose beneath our feet.

hurling down towers that broke the heavens; yea, death fell about us

in a red rain, yet we escaped unscathed.

"Therein is--more than the hand of man! Nay, a Power--the mightiest

Power! That which guided me across the world, straight to that demon

city--which led me to your chamber--which aided me to escape again and

led me to the one man in all the city who would give the information I

must have, the strange, evil priest of an elder race who lay dying in

a subterranean cell--and which guided me to the outer wall, as I ran

blindly and at random--for should I have come under the cliffs which

formed the rest of the wall, we had surely perished. That same Power

brought us safely out of the dying city, and safe across the rocking

bridge--which shattered and sundered down into the chasm just as my

feet touched solid earth!

"Think you that having led me this far, and accomplished such wonders,

the Power will strike us down now? Nay! Evil flourishes and rules in

the cities of men and the waste places of the world, but anon the

great giant that is God rises and smites for the righteous, and they

lay faith him.

"I say this: this cliff shall we descend in safety, and yon dank

jungle traverse in safety, and lit is as sure that in old Devon your

people shall clasp you again to their bosom, as that you stand here."

And now for the first time Marylin smiled, with the quick eagerness of

a normal young girl, and Kane sighed in relief. Already the ghosts

were fading from her haunted eyes, and Kane looked to the day when her

horrible experiences should be as a dimming dream. One glance he flung

behind him, where beyond the scowling hills the lost city of Negari

lay shattered and silent, amid the ruins of her own walls and the

fallen crags which had kept her invincible so long, but which had at

last betrayed her to her doom.

A momentary pang smote him as he thought of the myriad of crushed,

still forms lying amid those ruins; then the blasting memory of their

evil crimes surged over him and his eyes hardened.

"And it shall come to pass, that he who fleeth from the noise of the

fear shall fall into the pit; and he that cometh up out of the midst

of the pit shall be taken in the snare; for the windows from on high

are open, and the foundations of the earth do shake.

"For Thou hast made of a city an heap; of a defended city a ruin; a

palace of strangers to be no city; it shall never be built.

"Moreover, the multitude of Thy stranger shall be like small dust and

the multitude of the terrible ones shall be as chaff that passeth

suddenly away; yea, it shall be at an instant suddenly.

"Stay yourselves and wonder; cry ye out and cry; they are drunken but

not with wine; they stagger but not with strong drink.

"Verily, Marylin," said Kane with a sigh, "with mine own eyes have I

seen the prophecies of Isaiah come to pass. They were drunken but not

with wine. Nay, blood was their drink and in that red flood they

dipped deep and terribly."

Then taking the girl by the hand he started toward the edge of the

cliff. At this very point had he ascended in the night--how long ago

it seemed.

Kane's clothing hung in tatters about him. He was torn, scratched and

bruised. But in his eyes shone the clear calm light of serenity as the

sun came up, flooding cliffs and jungle with a golden light that was

like a promise of joy and happiness.

THE END