Solomon Kane by Ramsey Campbell Page B

of every man he slew, so many of them that he could call just a solitary face to mind – the one that haunted his worst dreams. “It did not end well,” he said.
    Meredith seemed determined not to hear this, and he thought she spoke for Samuel as well. “It must have been so exciting,” she said. “Seeing the world, learning new things...”
    “Has Master Kane not conveyed his lesson?” Edward said. “How can you admire a life devoted to bloodshed and violence?”
    “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” Meredith’s eyes flashed for an instant. “Edward, why doyou always argue with everything I say?”
    “Because I have seen more years than you and Samuel.” As Meredith looked ready to scoff at him, a shadow of petulance seemed to flicker around Edward’s lips before they grew firm. “It is my duty to set you back on your path when you stray from it,” he said.
    To Kane’s surprise, it was Katherine who intervened. “Now,” she said without looking at Edward or his sister, “that’s enough.”
    Meredith showed no reaction, but Edward’s mouth grew almost childishly small. Kane sensed that their father meant to placate every one of his listeners if he could. “You know,” William said, “I fought in the Queen’s army for a time before I found my faith.”
    Samuel’s interest was roused at once, but before the boy could blurt out a question, William added “The taking of another man’s life is not an easy thing to do. Is that not so, Master Kane?”
    “For many, yes.” Kane wished he were speaking to a priest – one who could offer him absolution – rather than simply to a good man. “But I confess killing came easily to me,” he said. “I was never more at home than I was in battle.”
    “Then how did those robbers best you so thoroughly?” Edward objected.
    “Edward, your manners set a poor example,” Meredith said.
    “The question was a fair one,” said Kane without knowing whether Edward had thought to catch him in a lie or to challenge his valour. “It was by choice, Edward. I have learned the evil of my ways, and I swore an oath never to harm another man. I will not fight again.”
    “Never?” Samuel said with the incredulity of youth. “Not at all?”
    Kane gave him a tolerant smile. “Not at all, Samuel,” he said. “You have my word.”
    “Let that be today’s lesson,” William said and rose to his feet. “Let us cleave to our vows and strive to keep God’s peace.” He turned sharply at a sound somewhere deep in the forest and crossed himself. Kane wondered if Crowthorn had thought, as he had, that a raucous laugh had greeted his pronouncement. It had only been the call of a crow in the dark.

TEN

    A s the boy tramped along the path above the bay he heard shouts beyond the cliff. A wind streamed through the grass all around him and ruffled his hair as he hitched up the straps of the bags that burdened him and went to the edge of the cliff. The wind had made the shouts sound closer than they were. They came from the crew of a three-masted ship that was tacking across the mouth of the bay towards the sea as wide as the horizon. While the boy could not name the style of vessel or the way it was rigged or the methods the crewmen were using to bring it into the wind, he vowed that one day he would learn all those skills and, by voyaging, master himself and the world. The thought gave him strength as he turned for a last sight of Axmouth.
    His old home seemed to frown at him, the outcast. The massive stones of the castle were as gloomy as the sunless sky. It had no more life than a monument, he tried to tell himself. Life and all its possibilities were out there in the world. He rubbed his eyes fiercely to clear them as he turned away from the castle and strode with renewed determination along the path.
    If Kane could have sent him back he would have. He imagined how Josiah might have welcomed him – might even have been so relieved by the prodigal’s return