A Glimpse Beyond the Mists

Kane shook some of the slimly blood and gore off his sword and observed grimly that the long corridor had filled with more men. They held their weapons at the ready with glowing hate evident in their dark eyes. Still, they advanced with considerably more caution than had the scouts, their rage tempered somewhat by the bloody mess that lay at the puritan's feet.

Solomon Kane stood defiantly with his legs wide apart. In one hand was the long rapier and in the other a heavy pistol, cocked and aimed. The cavern dwelling fiends were not cowards but none were mistaking the fact that many would have to die before the fierce pale-skinned stranger known as Kane could be subdued. Still, their great queen Neerininshia was close at hand and what man would hesitate to give up his life's blood gladly for the sake of their lovely earthbound goddess.

The Englishman was tensing for the final onslaught when a brilliant bluish colored light suddenly flooded the corridor accompanied by a tremendously violet crash. The sound was such that it nearly deafened the startled Englishman. Instinctively he half wheeled about to ascertain himself as to what earth shaking event had just occurred. His mouth opened wide, expressing utter astonishment at what his eyes beheld.

Apparently the powerful lightening had struck the mighty fig tree that stood only a few feet away from the maw of the abyss, the same fig tree that Kane had rested beneath several hours earlier. Now the tree had lost one of its great limbs, for one had been sheered away cleanly by the lightening and had fallen into the pit. Amazingly the still smoking limb had settled into a vertical position with the topmost point only perhaps two scant feet from the upper lip of the pit. The quick witted Kane instantly grasped the realization that should he be able to scale the length of the limb rapidly, his escape from certain death might yet be accomplished!

The puritan fired both his pistols into the mass of approaching infantry. Two men fell and the feet of several others were entangled momentarily by their bodies and the bodies of the two previously slain. Kane then turned to race for the fallen limb. He utilized every ounce of his remarkable athleticism in this one last desperate climb towards freedom and continued life. He ignored the excited shouts behind and below him as he struggled mightily to make his way up the rain drenched, slippery, and somewhat unstable branch. The thing twisted and turned perilously with each hand or foothold grasped. The puritan prayed that his great weight wouldn't force the swaying branch to slip farther into the gaping hole.

The puritan put everything he had into the climb. He heard several ominous thuds as javelins struck the rock walls of the pit and fell away having thankfully missed their mark. Kane weaved and rolled his body, making certain he provided no stationary target. Had the overly excited soldiers been thinking clearly they might have simply yanked at the bottom of the fallen branch and eliminated its tenuous ability to remain upright. They could have brought limb and puritan crashing down easily but an enraged fervor clouded their judgment....fortunately. Still, one javelin throw raked across the Englishman's broad shoulders, drawing blood and producing a searing agony. Another toss passed within an inch of his head. Yet another sharp point was barely deflected by the good leather of Kane's heavy boot...albeit not without leaving another painful wound. Overly excited soldiers blinded by hard rain continued to hurl their javelins but that was not the only concern the puritan had at the moment. Although he had very nearly reached the top of the pit he became aware that he was not alone on the staggering tree limb. Suddenly he felt a powerful grip about his ankle and Kane dared not lash out with his free leg for it supported most of his weight.

Kicking at his assailant was out of the question, and seeing no other recourse, the puritan used his free hand to jerk the deadly rapier from its scabbard. He must strike this man dead and continue before another javelin toss proved true...and fatal.

A flash of lightening made it possible for Kane to glimpse a most surprising scene. The soldiers had lowered their weapons and why not? The one with the death grip upon his ankle was none other than the beautiful Queen Neerininshia herself!

The woman began calling out his name..."Kane, Kane, Kane," she repeated over and over again. Hers was not a threatening tone. Rather her voice was pleading. The lightening came every few seconds now. It was plain to see that the rain on her intensely lovely face was mixed with tears. Her eyes spoke to questions...many questions. She swayed slightly on the unstable limb, that strange green rod of hers sheathed in some odd apparatus attached to the gold chain about her supple waist.

Neerininshia pulled urgently at Kane's ankle. Impossible though it should have been, the puritan somehow felt the sense that she would forgive him of all if only he would abandon his efforts to flee. Something in her eyes seemed to ask him to return with her to the opulent royal palace.

Her huge sad eyes spoke volumes. Kane realized that should he, at that very moment, choose to go back with her........that likely all his transgressions might well be forgiven. Such was the power of an absolute monarch and Neerininshia certainly wielded power after that fashion. His heart turned for an instant because he could see that the girl truly loved him. She was the queen of a God forsaken, obscene cult but she loved him. Despite the abomination that he'd witnessed at her hand there was some lonely place inside his heart that urged him to reach out to the sad-eyed, lovesick girl.

The lightening flashed again followed by the lightening quick flash of long cold steel. Kane's first impulse had been to sever the girl's hand but instead the blade merely pricked the girl's wrist. She screamed in pain and anger but his foot was set free at last. The swordsman then hurled the blade over the lip of the pit, and scampering with cat-like litheness he sought to follow.

Several more javelins thudded dangerously near but Kane soon managed to pull his long frame out and away from the dread hole that glowed with the weird light of a dozen green orbs. He was not surprised that the cavern dwellers did not pursue him any further. No doubt the world above the crust of the earth was as alien and mysterious to them as the depths of the ocean were to Solomon Kane.

He found his rapier, sheathed it carefully, and walked away with his customary long purposeful strides. Soon he could no longer hear the voice of the woman shouting his name time and time again.

Solomon Kane was soaked to the skin and his grim features might as well have been set in stone. Blood oozed from his wounds and the hard rain was freezing cold. The thunder roared louder than ever and the lightening crashed all around the pallid puritan but he paid no heed.

he walked on like a long shadow that cannot be seriously harmed or even frightened. He prayed loudly as he walked, it was almost as if he tried to shout down even the fury of the mighty storm. More likely it was the storm raging inside that created the most havoc for Solomon Kane. He prayed for forgiveness for his weaknesses, and for not killing Neerininshia when he'd had the chance. Then he prayed again....that someday he could forget her.