The squeal of poorly greased wagon axles mixed with the muted sobbing of their cargo. A few faces, wet with tears, would press themselves to the small barred window from time to time, staring back the way the convoy had come. Occasionally one of the guards would slam a spear butt against the window and laugh as a shriek came from within. It was a small distraction from the tension that filled everyone in the long line of wagons. 

Heavily armed Dwarves, scruffy and unkempt human slavers, neatly attired merchants, and others, all grouped together in this one large, long, train of wagons crossing into the Vampire Kingdom for the first time in any human memory. Among the eclectic group, his habitual tall hat, long coat, and markings of his trade well hidden, was a tall man dressed in red broadcloth trimmed with heavy bear fur. He looked exceedingly happy, well fed, and comfortably wealthy. A stark contrast to the slaver with whom he travelled.

"I d'nay fink der was anyfink da blood suckers moight want, but I thinks you gots a grand ider sah..." The slaver, by the unfortunate name of Bert, was pawing his own greasy hair back into the best approximation of his companions as he spoke. The tall man, who he knew only by the name Tuttle, had run into him a week back and suggested he might make some coin buying daughters from peasant families and reselling them in the Vampire Kingdom now that it seem Baron Ulrek Bathory was opening his borders to trade. 

Solomon winced at the horrendous butchery applied to his native tongue but nodded along in agreement. It was a decent cover indeed. Bert, for all of his disgusting appearance, had turned out to be quite a clever businessman, and purchased some thirty young women at a tenner a piece from their starving families. He would surely get five times their value in a land starved for fresh blood. He chuckled at the pun. Each of the girls was pretty enough and Solomon had already taken his pleasure of a couple of the best of the lot. The rest of the slavers had done likewise but left the two Solomon had chosen alone, they all feared the tall man despite his genial nature and broad smile.

"Somefink weird a'bout 'im..." Bert muttered to himself as Tuttle-Solomon turned his horse to one side and began to ride back down the long column. He nodded in friendly fashion to the Dwarves who returned his gentiality with the suspicion of their kind, and drew up next to a villainous looking band of thugs who had attached themselves to the end of the wagon train. He knew Vampire Hunters when he saw them, and though they had done a decent job of hiding their tools, the way they carried themselves, openly wore crosses, and reeked of garlic made him smile to himself.

"Good day lads, fine weather!" It was spitting rain and small swathes of sunlight broke through the clouds from time to time. It was indeed a fine day in the Great Weald.

"Supposin it is." Replied a big man, taller and broader in the shoulders than Solomon. "Woot are you doin 'ere?"

Solomon had not thought his disguise would fool men of his own trade, it only needed fool everyone else.

"Same as you. Might I suggest we not bring attention to our presence here and pass this most auspicious journey in some approximation of peace."

"Aight." Stated the big man simply and a round of nods went through the group. 

"I might even suggest we consider working together. I imagine any prize to be had here would pay us all very nicely indeed." 

This brought a gleam to every eye and the nods became a good deal more vigorous. 

"As a token of my good faith, why not join my wagons up near the front," He leaned forward over the saddle pommel as if to impart some great secret. "We have a couple wagons worth of young ladies bound for the Vampire lands. The folk there won't give a farthing if they've had a chance to enjoy your company on the journey."

The nods became verbal growls of agreement and the strange collection of men followed him along the wagon line to join Bert and his company. Bert raised an eye at their arrival but didn't ask any questions. He never got a straight answer out of the blonde man when he did. 

"Company. A farthing a piece for each of them to enjoy any of the girls they wish tonight, on me." He tossed a small bag of coins to Bert who pocketed it with dexterity and a nod.

"As ye says Gov'nor."

[center]*  *  *  *  *  *  *[/center]

Later that evening, as the whole great wagon train halted for the night, Solomon Kane was kneeling in the dirt near to a small hovel whose terrified occupants watched him with awe. His bright coat and loud voice was almost alien in their barren and hateful land. 

Behind him he could hear the cries of the women who had been brought with them as the other Vampire Hunters took their pleasures. The woman in the doorway winced everytime a scream cut through the air but she said nothing as she watched Solomon gently rub his fingers along a green shoot that was peeping ou from the dirt.

"Garlic... Why the hell are you growing garlic?" He finally asked of the family. The father, a wasted thing of a man, shrugged.

"The Baron says we're to grow garlic so we grows it, m'lord." 

"Fascinating..." Solomon touched the small stalks again. This plant was surely ready to pluck and he drew the bulb from the earth, the white skin flashing in the fading sunlight. "If you harvest it within the week you will have a fine crop."

The man nodded, an expression of relief on his face. "Thank you m'lord, I've nought growed it afore."

"I would purchase some from you." Solomon announced and took a small purse from his waist. He was conscious of the couples children staring at him from eyes sunken with hunger. He counted out what would amount to a years wages for the family and pressed the coins into the farmers hands. "Sell your harvest to the Baron, then take your children and leave here forever."

He waved away the bubbling thanks of the family, selected ten generous sized bulbs and walked back to the wagon where the screams had at last died to whimpers. He stared a the bulbs in his hand. This was an interesting development indeed.