"Make way!" Solomon was yelling at the crowd as he forced his horse through the thick press of folk lining the roadway leading to the capitals main gate. One half of the gate was open, guarded by a squad of spearmen. Behind them a massive pillar or black smoke rose skyward and a distinct glow could be seen over the city walls. The firedust must have caused more damage than expected. 

"Move damn you!" He snarled at a stubborn tinker, lashing out with his foot as he passed, sending the man crashing into the ditch. Some folk shouted at him but they were used to being bullied at by men with weapons and his sword was enough to quiet most of them.

The commotion he caused was spreading and folk began to hurriedly move aside so that he could ride freely down the long line. He kept glancing left and right, looking for Prince Edward. He had expected to find the Vampire along the road somewhere but no such luck. Perhaps he had died of his wounds, he could only hope.

"I have news!" He was shouting again, waving frantically at the spearmen who stared at him in surprise. They were nervous and he could sense their anxiety. They had been committed to a quiet life of guarding brow beaten peasants, living slightly better than everyone else so that a woman might find them worth humping. It wasn't much, but it was better than slaving in the muck as a farmer. Now that peace had been shattered by the slaughter of the Royal family, including an attack within the city itself. Heads would roll for the failure to protect the city, it was simply a matter of whose head.

"I bring news of Prince Edward! I must see the King!" Solomon drew his horse up sharply, narrowly avoiding the spears that had been leveled at him. "He was wounded by vampire hunters and is lying near death."

The spearmen glanced at each other and then at their sergeant. The man looked worried. He had been told that no one without an appointment was to be permitted into the city but surely that did not apply to someone with news of the missing prince. He looked around again, as if desperate to find someone who out ranked him,and Solomon leapt at the weakness.

"Sergeant, the Prince is dying! I must see his father at once!"

That was enough for the sergeant and he nodded to his men who raised their spears and waved Solomon into the city. He kicked back his heels and urged his horse beneath the huge gateway. He could smell bubbling oil and glanced up briefly to see faces peering down at him through the murder holes. The city would be a beast to take.

His cry was like a magic talisman and soldiers waved him onward toward the citadel. His horses hooves clattered loudly on the drawbridge, the black water beneath to vibrating away in small ripples. He could see tips of wooden stakes just below the surface and the reflection of large ballistas nested atop the gatehouse towers. Ulrek would have his work cut out for him. 

He swung down from the saddle in the inner courtyard as two men hurried toward him. 

"Your swo..." The first man began to speak but stopped as Solomon tossed him the blade Prince Edward had left behind when he fled the hut.

"The Princes sword, you fool, I need to speak with his father now. He is wounded and the girl is tending to him!" Solomon snarled as he pushed past the two, heading for the double door guarded by yet more spearmen. 

The two men hurried after him, one cursing under his breath, the other glancing skyward as if expecting something to come tumbling down upon them. The interior of the citadel was dark, darker even than the shaded day beyond. 

"Which way to the King?" Solomon snapped at his escorts. His heart was thundering in his chest. His bluff was enormous and if either man thought quickly enough to stop and question him, he would have to fight his way out. Here again though, the confusion and fear that permeated the city worked to his advantage. No one wanted to be responsible for the Prince dying. "Hurry!"

"This way." The first man plucked at Solomon's sleeve and led him down a long passage toward the rear of the keep. The walls were barren stone, lit with the odd flickering torch, just enough for a human to navigate without tripping over the thin carpets that muffled their boots.

"Here." The man pushed open a large set of doors and they stepped into an audience chamber. It was a least three stories high and great banners embroidered with images of Zachaeus and his family hung from balconies around the upper floor. A huge narrow throne, set with red jewels and gold, gleamed and winked in the light of a dozen torches. To one side, seated on low wooden benches, were terrified young women in skimpy dress, while all around the walls stood armoured pikemen.

"Your majesty!" The first man took a knee. "This man brings news of your son, Prince Edward."

A figure standing nearby, staring up at a huge tapestry that showed a vampire tearing a man in half, turned. He looked into Solomons eyes and frowned. The confusion was fleeting. Reazaliation flashed into the blood shot eyes and a low growl escaped his throat.

"Solomon Kane." The words were said quietly but the effect they had on those in the hall was instantaneous. The girls screamed. The armoured sentinels looked shocked and then dropped their pikes low and began to advance on Solomon. The two men who had come with him looked stunned, lunged for Solomon, and died. 

The glittering sword spun once and two heads bounced across the floor, leaving trails of blood on the otherwise flawless black marble. The remainder of the guards checked themselves for an instant. A pair of heavy thuds indicated that the bodies too had hit the floor. 

"Solomon Kane." King Zachaeus said again. "Son of God. Welcome to my home."

The guardsmen had stopped now, staring from the King to the Vampire Hunter. Solomon was as famous as Zachaeus was infamous. There was not a man in that room who did not realize that their lives were about to change forever.

"My men cannot decide if they should welcome you, or fight you." Zachaeus commented as he strolled toward his throne. That sent a shudder through the armoured ranks. "I can peer into their minds. But not into yours. That is how I know your name."

He had reached the throne and as he did he causally picked up a six foot spear, Solomon recognized Bloodline at once, and turned to face the Vampire Hunter. "You killed my sons."

"And your daughters." Solomon nodded. The sword was back in his sheath and a hand rested at his lower back where he had palmed an item from the specially made pouch he had carried so carefully until this moment. 

"There will be more. But for you, Solomon Kane, there will be nothing!" In an instant Zachaeus launched himself from the dias, his face contorting as huge fangs shot forth and great wings burst from his back. The guardsmen gave shouts of terror and dropped to the floor. Solomon alone did not. Instead he took the item he had been holding behind his back and with one swift movement he hurled it into the floor at his feet. 

"Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem!"

The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch burst without hesitation upon the marbled floor. In an instant the blackened interior of the keep shone brighter than the sun itself, the light of Heaven. Zachaeus gave one horrible scream as he burst into flames, his body turned into nothing but ash before it hit the floor. Even Bloodline, the great evil spear that Zachaeus had used to drain the blood of so many innocents, was incinerated. There was no trace of the King.

For those mortals in the room, they would never see again. For to look upon the glory of God was to be blinded for eternity. The guardsmen and slave girls did not weep however, for in that moment they had seen the greatness of God and the promise of his kingdom in heaven. For the rest of their days they would have that image to remember and when they came before God and he judged them he would be kind for they would spread his word about the land. 

Solomon Kane was on his knees. His clothes were gone, and in their place he wore white chainmail, cloak, boots, and from his back a great pair of white wings now cast their light upon the milky white eyes of the mortals who had witnessed his miracle. 

"My son." The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Your task is not yet done."

Solomon raised his face toward the ceiling and could see, beyond the vestiges of pure white cloud, the glimmer of great golden gates. Tears were coursing down his cheeks. He had been forgiven. He would return home.

"There is still great evil in this land. You are my sword. Go forth and conquer." 

"I will... Father..." He whispered the words and bowed his head.

In an instant the room was plunged back into darkness. Solomon was once again in his broad hat and long jacket. His leather boots sounded loud on the floor as he stood and glanced around at the guardsmen and slave girls, all of whom were kneeling in prayer, their faces skyward, hands clasped, smiles of pure joy on their faces. 

The sound of shouts and clatter of steel reached Solomon from down the passage. He had to leave and quickly. To kill men who served evil because they had no other choice was not God's will. He glanced to his right and saw a flight of stairs climbing up and way through the wall. He turned and hurried toward them. He would find Edward, and then he would kill him.