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Salem Strom

The Dead Man.

Know this, these tales concern the life, death and what came after for the man known as Salem Strom, his is not a contented story for he was touched by the dark fates to wander the lands as an outcast from all that is holy.

Chapter One.

The Dead Man.

The road from Bishops Gate to New Orleans wasn't a path that was trod after sunset, stealthy cutthroats and vile brigands lay waiting around every shadowy turn and the blackened surrounding woods were littered with the decaying carcasses of unlucky travelers who failed to heed that warning. As the darkened sky opened its thunder locks the hard ground became soaked in a pounding summer rain, one brave wanderer made his way up the treacherous winding highway. He was tall and his worn black frock coat covered a strong hardened body, made so by the chances of nature and the open road. A matching wide brimmed hat was pulled low over his face but in the bright flashes of lightening one could make out a pale chiseled face and dark penetrating eyes, those eyes had seen many sights that were not meant for men. The wind blew against his unfeeling body revealing an ivory handled eighteen seventy four Colt revolver, a long bone handled bowie knife was tucked into his wide brass buckled leather belt, his tall Calvary boots had seen better days as did the rest of his garments, but there was something about the man that set him apart as just another penniless vagabond. From the fearless gate of his stride to the uncaring attitude that seemed to surround him, gave notice that this was someone you didn't confront for he promised a blood stained fight in return for very little hard coin.

Two more crashes of thunder broke the darkened sky, in the lightings glow the weary traveler could make out a tavern sign just ahead and seeking shelter from the vengeful night the dark man pulled his hat lover and quickened his stride.

The Black Horse inn was a gathering place for those misbegotten souls that had not yet paid for their hellish crimes, the Law held no sway here and few if any entered the tavern who didn't have a heavy price on their hellish heads. Due to the storm the roadhouse was filled to capacity and the air hung heavy with acrid smoke and the bellowing laughter of drunken men and women. Revelers mixed with the usual constabulary of skilled assassins and light fingered thieves. Overpainted ladies of easy virtue, mingled among the mass of sweaty patrons, offering their womanly talents to anyone who was willing to part with a silver or golden coin.

A large fireplace burned at the back of the room as oil lamps bathed the chamber in a soft warm glow, old soldiers or deserters from the thirty years ago war between North and South sat together in an uneasy truce that might be broken at any moment by a slight about each other's bravery or sexual prowess.

In the far corner sat a giant of a man well known to anyone who made the Black Horse their shelter for he was a person not to be trifled with and someone that wise men gave way to, he went by the name Mad Murphy for his temper had the same size as his stature, LARGE, no one exactly knew where he came from but when he arrived he quickly took over the leadership of the local murderous gang in charge by cutting out the heart of the former ruler and eating it! The last part was looked upon as an exaggeration but no one dared come forward to dispute it least he find himself on a dinner plate, he had a broad cruel face with pig like eyes and a mouth that seemed to be permanently fix in a scowl, his hair was reddish in color as was his bulbous nose a result from too much drink, his garment were once of fine make but now worn and scared like the man who wore them, he had only one redeeming feature about him, he killed his enemies quickly so as to devote more time to his primary passion, drinking.

"Another round!" Murphy called out in his growling voice as he pounded his great ham hand on the oaken table, "And be quick about it!"

Gathered around the worn oaken table with him were his companions in corruption, a small squat man by the name of Frog, so named as his body and warmth reminded one of those slime covered dwellers of the swamp. He had bulbous eyes and a wide mouth that further added meaning to his name and his face was in a constant state of wetness from perspiration that always seemed to be there, next him were the bloated bodies of the well-known Bradly twins, dirty, dumb, suspicious and dangerous, each one seemed to live for the chance to outdo his brother in death, debauchery and gluttony not necessarily in that order, they were pig headed and always had their greasy mouths filled with food of some sort or another, the last of this unpleasant gathering was Pieu, half Indian and half devil, tall but thin with a worn drawn in face and long braided hair he loved the slow kill with a knife and fashioned the scalps of his victims into a ghastly vest that he wore about his reddish body with pride, the motley group now sat playing face cards as they waited for the buxom barmaid to bring then their libations.

"What's the bet?" grunted Frog as his sausage-like fingers clutched soiled playing cards. "More then you have" laughed Borden the slightly younger half of the Bradly twins. "And more then you'll ever have" added Brent the older but no wiser brother.

Frog ignored the insults and turned his beady eyes to Pieu, "Are you in our out?"

The sullen Indian grunted once but said nothing as he placed a silver coin on the wine-stained table.

Frog was hesitant about asking his leader if he was going to pony up or not but was glad when the big man put two dented coins on the growing mound of currency. With no other wagers coming forward the fat little man laid out his cards for all to see.

"Kings high, looks like the pot is mine" he said smiling as he reached for his reward. "Hold it!" Murphy called out then showed what he was holding, "three aces" and with that he pulled the pile of soiled currencies to him and added them to his already mounting treasure, it was not that he was a skilled poker player it was the fact that nobody dared call him out on his cheating, as he counted his winnings he once more shouted for his drink, "What's keeping you!" then turned to see a shapely tavern maid by the name of Easy Mary standing next to him holding a dented brass tray with several foaming tankards of sour ale.

"Here you go" she said in her lilting voice as she placed the drinks on the heavy table, Mary was a regular fixture at the Black Horse having grown up there owing to the fact that her father was the owner of the establishment, she had cut her teeth on callus drunken men and was well versed in all the devious ways of relieving them of their ill-gotten gains.

"Will there be anything else?" she asked with a well-used smile.

"No" Murphy grunted as he took a deep draft from his mug.

Mary shook her tasseled red air and before she could ask anyone else at the table the tavern door opened with a blast of cold air and in walked a dark dressed stranger.

The wary men about the room put their nervous hands on gun hilts or knife handles as they watched the tall intruder shake the rain from his dark garments and hat, then slowly made his way to the end of the long bar and stood with his back to the wall half hidden in the shadows, seeing that he was alone and not some heroic officer of the law looking to make a name for himself they returned to their mindless chatter and games of chance.

Mary was sure that she had never seen this man before and her memory was very good, for she made a point of knowing who could be taken for a coin or two with a pretty smile or promise of warm flesh, but even if this man was unknown to her she made her way through the crowded floor and stood next to the dark man.

"What can I get for you stranger, a glass of our best or perhaps you're looking for something warm and friendly?" Mary positioned her shapely frame to show off her best attributes, but the stranger continued to gaze straight ahead and payed her no mind.

"A glass of Kentucky whisky if you have it" the tall man said in a low voice.

"Coming right up" Mary replied, "the name is Mary if you need something else" and she rubbed her fingers over the man's hand then drew back as if she had touched fire, "You're as cold as ice" she blurted out, and hearing this the man turned his head towards her so that she could see his face clearly. His long hair was white as snow surrounding a face with hard chiseled features, his eyes were sullen and dark as a raven's wing and his skin was pale as a corpse, to say that he was handsome would not be untrue except for his hair and skin coloring but the most striking thing about him and would surely make any lady of the night think twice was the jagged scar on his left cheek, a large "S" the markings of a slave.

"Strom" Mary blurted out under her breath as she slowly back away from him, the tall man said nothing and quickly pulled his wide brimmed hat lower over his face, the tavern maid quickly moved to the far end of the counter and in a few moments whispering began to move through the smoke filled tavern, a name was heard over and over again, a name that many had heard of but few took as anything of substance.

"Strom, Strom, Strom" over and over again until it reached the ear of Mad Murphy. "Strom?' the big man said, "Salem Strom? That's only a legend, a boggen story to frighten children. Frog was not so certain, "I've heard of this devil, a white demon that walks like a man, best not go looking for trouble". "We're not afraid" Borden said turning to his brother, "are we?" "I'm not afraid of any man" Brent replied quickly. Frog smiled a bit, "Do you know who Salem Strom is?" he asked.

The older Bradly twin shook his oversized head, "Why should I, one man is just like another". "And they all can die when you put a bullet in them" added his younger brother. Frog took a large gulp of his watered down wine then wiped his dripping mouth with the back of his greasy hand, "Ah yes that's just the point, they call him The Dead Man". Being superstitious as they were the two fat men looked at each other than at Frog, "What are you talking about?" Borden asked with a bit of a tremble in his words.Seeing that he had them were he wanted Frog sat back in his chair and slowly fingered the lip of his tankard, "well the story goes that he died and was somehow brought back to life and now he travels with the devil at his side and anyone who stands in his way ends up dancing to the devil's music in hell."

Hearing the word "Devil" made the hairs on the misshapen heads of the Bradly twins stand on end for although they were grown they possessed the courage of a child when it came to the subject of witchcraft and demons. "I've seen the devil" the normally silent Pieu said, "he rides a black horse and has two wolves as his companions". "Was he your father?" Brent laughed trying to break the fear that gripped his overstuffed body. But the Half-Indian was quick to reply, "at least I know who my father was and my mother didn't lay down with a pig like yours!"

The Bradly twins reached for their weapons but a rock-fist came crashing down on the oaken table "Enough!" Murphy shouted, "I'm not scared by some weak woman story, I'll get to the bottom of this right now" and taking a deep gulp of his brew he stood up and made his way towards the unknown man at the end of the bar.

A silence fell like a blanket over the nervous patrons as they watched their black hearted leader approached the dark man, a few even placed bets on who would come out the victor in the oncoming confrontation but most just waited for whatever was to come.

The big man quickly crossed the rough wooden floor and stood next to the stranger, planted his heavy booted feet firmly, "who the hell are you anyway?" he asked so that all could hear. At first the stranger said nothing then he spoke in a voice that only Murphy could understand, and it consisted of just two words.

"Leave me".

At first the big man didn't know what to make of such a thing for most of the time the men he confronted asked to be forgiven for whatever slight they might have said or done, or they begged for mercy but this answer was something new to Murphy and he wasn't sure just how to reply.

"What?" he finally spoke, "what did you say?"

The man at the bar stood up reveling his true height and it was equal to Murphy and perhaps a bit taller, but the big man had a least fifty pounds in his favor and he considered that something that couldn't be overcome. "I said leave me alone" the stranger said but this time his voice held a goodly amount of menace.

Hearing a chuckle or two from the underdogs about the inn Murphy gathered himself up and drawing back his huge fist he shouted, "I'll teach you to talk like that to me"!

But his bosting was all the time that Strom needed to prepare himself and ducking the wild swing of the big man he drove his left fist into the soft belly of his opponent and struck his jaw with his right, Murphy grunted from the blow to his midsection then staggered back from the force that smashed into his jaw, he stumbled about then crashed into his gangs table and overturning it so that money was mixed with ale all over the floor.

"KILL HIM!" Murphy shouted as he tried to gain his footing and hearing this the two Bradly twins drew their revolvers and began shooting wildly.

A bullet whizzed past Strom's ear as he pulled his gun and taking careful aim he placed a bullet into the hearts of the brothers, they went down like poleaxed bulls as blood ran in torrents from their penetrating wounds.

An instant later the tavern was in chaos, patrons hurried for cover or took the opportunity for revenge against someone who had wronged them, bullets flew about the room as Frog found cover under an overturned table along with Mary. Fire from overturned lamps spread out like spider webs and smoke began to blur the vision of those who were trapped inside.

Salem heard move bullets sail passed his head as angry patron took aim at the stranger, Strom returned fire until his gun was empty bringing down a man with each shot the returned his colt to its holster.

Murphy was still a bit dazed by the blow that he had received but Pieu crept through the arid smoke towards the tall man holding his bone handled knife in his callus hand, Strom eyes burned but he could still make out the wily Indian making his way towards him and seeing his weapon was a blade he holstered his empty guns and drew out his long Bowie knife and braced his booted feet, a moment later the Indian was on him screaming a wild war cry and eyes wide with the killing madness, Pieu's knife-edge grazed the left arm of the tall man but Strom's blade found it's mark and buried itself to the hilt in the heart of the wild man, Pieu gurgled horribly and blood poured from his mouth as Strom withdrew his weapon from his limp body but he had no time for rest as Murphy drew his pistol and fired wildly, Salem ducked the leaded onslaught until the big man's gun was empty then Murphy fell upon him like a maddened bear.

Nether of the men said a word as they grappled on the wooden floor as the tavern exploded in a fiery tomb, Murphy managed to wrench the knife from Strom's vice like grip but it fell to the floor with a clang leaving both men locked with their hands around each other throats, they stood there for a moment like two titans in the glowing light of hell.

Seeing that their lives hung in the balance Frog and Mary rose up from their hiding place and ran quickly for the door, the tavern maid stopping only once to gather up a gold coin from the floor where it had fallen.

Strom and Murphy continued their deadly dance each testing the other strength, the muscles on their arms stood out like cords of steel and sweat beaded on their foreheads, then at last the Big man's face began to turn red and he clawed at his neck in an effort to pry Strom's steel like fingers from his collapsing windpipe, a moment or two later Murphy's arms feel limp to his sides and seeing his opponent beaten Strom let go his grip and began to move towards the door but Murphy had still not had enough and he grabbed the coat of the tall man.

"No one bests me!" he bellowed and took another terrific swing at Strom head.

But this time the tall man lifted his booted foot and kicked the big man with all the force in his iron leg, Murphy spitting broken teeth staggered backwards into the now roaring fire of the tavern and in an instant his huge body was consumed in fire, horrific screams filled the smoke black air as Strom quickly made his way out of what was left of the Black Horse Inn quickly taking up his knife from where it had fallen.

Sitting outside and covered in grim and dirt Mary and Frog watched the tall stranger emerge from the blazing inn and disappear into the darkness like a black demon of the night and both of them gave a sigh of relief knowing that they would never see him again.

Chapter Two.

The Swamp

The snake infested Swamp that lay near the outskirts of New Orleans was a dark and dismal place filled with merciless creatures that thrived on death and hid themselves from the cleansing light of day. Towering moss covered trees rose up from the bogs like malformed giants and spread out their many snarled limbs in a dark canopy so that sunlight was only hinted at and shadows were the way of things. Buzzing and biting insects infested the vile stinking air as sharp fanged snakes and crawling vermin slithered and skulked through the myriad slime and muck. Spotted Panther and armored skinned alligators eternally battled for supremacy, but everyone knew that death ruled the land.

Into this godless place ventured Salem Strom, a name that meant nothing to the hungry creatures of the swamplands for one human was as good a meal as another. What mad reasoning would drive a man to enter that forbidden world? They had no care but it grated on the mind of Strom.

For two days and nights he wandered through the accursed quagmire living off of bloated frogs and slim covered snakes and fighting off hungry alligators until he could go no further and sitting down on a half-submerged tree stump he rested his weary frame for a time, he cleaned his pistol of invading muck and slim as best he could and oiling it with toad bile, he honed his stout knife on a rock making sure the edge was razor sharp then when the work was done he closed his weary eyes but kept his right hand on his pistol grip in case he was set upon by anything that wished him harm. Salem slowly drifted off into a half-sleep where visons of his past came flooding back to haunt him.

He had once been the carefree son of a wealthy plantation owner and lived the life of the rich and privileged, he drank deep of red wine and tasted the best that the land had to offer, he could handle a pistol and blade with the best of them and his success with the ladies was legend among the gentry. His stern father was one of the richest cotton planters in all the South with hundreds of dark skinned slaves working day and night to make him even richer, this didn't sit well with the young son for Salem took pity on those poor souls for their endless toil but was helpless to alter their plight. As a boy Salem became friends with one of the slaves, an old man who went by the name Ben, he was bent and wrinkled and no one knew just how old he really was and he was looked upon as a man who could summon up demons and curse or bless those around him. To avoid the hard fist of his father Salem would sit for hours and listen as he told fantastic tales of his African home and dark stories of Voodoo and black magic.

A sudden sound brought Salem from his dream world to the present and drawing his gun he scanned the shadowy landscape for any sign of danger, but he saw nothing. The sun was slowly going down and cast an even dimmer light through the trees. Seeing that there was nothing in the darkness he was about to holster his weapon when he heard a faint noise, at first it sounded like the cry of a wolf, but Salem knew that wolves preferred the open range rather than the confining grip of the swamplands.

Again, the sound, and Salem was sure that it emanated from a wolf and this time he quickly turned his head for the cry came from his right and as he did he suddenly caught a glimpse of a shadow moving in the dense trees. An ordinary man would have called out but Strom had learned to never give away his position to a would-be enemy so checking his knife he held his pistol at the ready and slowly made his way to follow the fleeting apparition.

The wild cries of swamp-cats and ebony loons could be heard above the croaking of frogs and the incessant chipping of insects as Salem continued onward, now and then he caught a fleeting glimpse of his elusive quarry and in the dimming light it did appear as a four legged creature but it emitted a soft high-pitched laughter, then a growl as if a demon was beckoning him to follow, only a fool or a brave man would have continued but Salem was neither. Something called to him, something dark and mysterious and it held him in its grip as surly as a mother holds her child, fear touched his heart but he was unable to stop, he had to go on no matter what the cost and it was clear that he wouldn't stop for God or the Devil.

The hours clicked by but still the chase went on and on, the voice continued, and a shadowy figure appeared and disappeared like a phantom. The sun vanished, and gloomy shafts of pale light illuminated the bog as a low mist covered the soggy ground, but Salem didn't turn away and continued on like a lover seeking his love.

Thick vines hindered his way, so he used his heavy knife and hacked his way through. Small vermin bit and scratched at his arms and legs until he was bleeding from countless cuts but still he didn't cease his pursuit. Then with one last herculean effort he made his way through a watery bog, entering a clearing in the murky swamp he saw a figure standing alone in the dim light for the moon had not risen, it was a woman, tall and shapely, her long golden hair hung about her face and down over her ivory shoulders in waves of shimmering ringlets, she was naked except for a strip of wolf hide drawn about her slim waist and a neckless of bones around her supple neck, her eyes were dark and her red lips were set in a slight smile that beckon to be kissed. Salem stood for a moment gazing at the incredible site before him then the woman spoke.

"I have waited a long time for you" she said in a low sultry voice.

Salem cautiously moved into the open but still grasping the handle of his handgun, the rough ground was littered with the rotting remains of creatures of all kinds, alligator, Jubba birds, swamp cats and more and mixed with those carcasses were the grinning skulls of humans, they gazed up at him as if mocking him, watching him will hollow eyes but still the force that drove Strom prevented him from turning away.

"Who are you?" Salem asked never taking his eyes off the strange woman.

The naked female lifted up her slim arms revealing all her wanton charms, "who am I? Some call me Marga the witch woman of the swamp for this place is my home and all that enter here are mine to do with as I like".

"How do you know me?" asked Salem as he cautiously made his way nearer to her.

This question brought a deep laugh to the ruby lips of the wetland woman, "I know you because the night creatures called your name and being one with the dark swamp I listened, they said a great man was coming a man who walks with the dead".

Salem stood only a few paces from her now and he looked into her dark foreboding eyes, "what do you want of me?" he asked coldly.

The strange woman began to move around him, her dainty feet treading lightly on the moist ground, "I have lived my life alone for there was no man that was worthy of my embrace, many have tried but they all failed for my heart burns with a fire that cannot be quenched until now, for you are the one that I will give myself too and together we will rule this accursed land".

Salem watched her every move, "why would I wish to spend the rest of my life with you?"

Again the woman laughed, "because you have no life, you are a dead man who walks and your heart is as cold as mine, the living are our prey and with you at my side there is nothing we cannot do".

Salem shook his head, "it's true that I walk among the living but I seek an old man, a man who can lift this curse from my shoulders and let me die as it was meant to be".

Marga moved close and put her soft hands on Salem's chest, her fingers were long and her nails were like the claws of an animal, "look at me, am I not beautiful, where else will you find one like me, strong and willing to face any terror that may come for I have walked through the pits of Hell and laughed at the suffering there, take me in your arms and make me yours and I will show you all that this dark world has to offer".

Salem gazed into her eyes for a moment or two then roughly pushed her away, "No" he shouted and turned to go, but the witch woman called out after him.

"Where will you go?" she asked, "back to a world that shuns you, back to those that would destroy you, what is there for you in that world? You seek but you never find, you thirst but no drink can slack you desire, you hunger but no food can fill your emptiness, your dreams are filled with nightmares and when you wake you find no solace, you are an outcast from the light, stay here with me and share the darkness for there is nowhere to go."

Salem stood unmoving as he listened to the words of the swamp woman and he knew that she spoke the truth for he was indeed a castaway, a wanderer in the outer darkness and perhaps it would be better to share that shadowy road with another? He turned and walked back to the haunted woman and looked into her ebony eyes once more then slowly took her into his strong arms, she smiled at him and as her ruby lips parted he saw that her teeth were sharply protruded like the fangs of a she-wolf.

He kissed her deep and hard holding her in his vice-like grip and Marga reached around and her sharp talons tore at the back of Salem ripping his soiled clothing and cutting into the flesh underneath until blood began to flow, that kiss was like no other that Salem had ever felt, his head filled with strange images of worlds beyond worlds, lands filled with blood and screams, he saw himself sitting on a throne of skulls as hapless humans paraded naked before him. He was a King, a dark lord of a world that bowed down to him and he laughed as he saw the sky turned black and the moon become crimson.

Then a foul taste entered his mouth, a paled flavor of doom and decay and an unwholesome odor filled his nostrils, the smell of fear and death and a putrid stench that had overcome him many times before in battle, but that was not the worst for his pallet detected something more, something that tore at his very soul, something that all humans loath, the taste of human flesh.

In that instance he returned to this world and opening his eyes he looked hard into the incanting face of the beast woman in his arms, the eyes that were once dark and beckoning were now yellow and vacant of all emotions save one, hunger.

"Away demon!" shouted Salem as his powerful arms pushed the witch woman from him.

The moon began to rise in the night sky as Marga looked into his face, "fool" she cried out, "we could have ruled this world as queen and king but now you will suffer the same fate as all the others who crossed my path!"

Salem watched wide-eyed as the woman began to transform, the golden hair that flowed like a river from her head turned dark and coarse, he ivory limbs sprouted mottled hair and her ears became long and pointed and twitched with excitement.

"Fool" the woman called out her lips dripping with saliva and strong white teeth snapping wildly, "I am Wolfen and you will scream for mercy as I rip the flesh from your bones!"

Hearing this Salem drew his Colt revolver and fired several shots into the wolf-woman, but she only laughed, "bullets cannot harm me for I am the daughter of the night, now die like all the rest!" and leaping high into the air she landed hard on her prey and began ripping and biting like a wild animal.

Salem tossed away his useless weapon and fought back with all his strength, Marga was armed with teeth and fang but Salem was a powerful man hardened by war and misery and although he suffered bites he didn't cry out in pain. The air was filled with the shrieks of swamp creatures for they knew that two beasts were battling to the death and it brought out the blood lust in them. Again and again the witch woman tried to rip the jugular vein of the human and slowly watch his life's blood flow from him but Salem's strong arms kept her at bay. The battle raged on each trying for victory but Salem knew he was losing the fight and if he didn't do something soon his rotting corpse would join the others scattered about the clearing so with a mighty effort he managed to draw his knife and with it firmly clenched in his hand he struck again and again into the wolf-woman, at first he thought it had no effect for she continued her maddened attack without slacking.

Salem's vision began to blur from the force of his efforts and the blood that trickled down his face from a cut on his forehead, he shook his head and continued to thrust his heavy blade into the steel-like body of the wolf-woman, at first she showed no sign of injury but in a short time she began to howl as the sharp blade entered her flesh over and over again, warm blood covered them both and splattered about the clearing like a crimson rain then with one last effort Salem plunged his weapon deep into Marga's heart.She howled in a high pitched cry then fell to the ground tearing at the air and snapping her foaming jaws together over and over like a bear trap, her talon hands pulled at the blade that protruded out of her chest but her strength was waning and her efforts proved futile, with a last desperate cry that chilled the heart, she fell back on the blood soaked ground breathing in and out in painful labored gasps.

Salem wiped the blood from his eyes then watched as the wolf-woman slowly changed back into the golden haired temptress, her yellow eyes vanished and her lips no longer bore the fangs from a moment before, she lay there as her life-blood slowly drained from her and looked up at the man that had killed her.

"You think you have won don't you dead man?" her words were dry and labored and bloody foam dripped from her lips, "but I cannot die, I will come back to find you and when I do I will rip your cold heart from your chest!" and with those last words her eyes closed and she lay still.

Salem bent down and pulled his long knife from her body, he looked at the woman who tried to bewitch him and he took pity on her. "I will free you from your curse" he said solemnly and taking his knife he brought it down with all the remaining strength in his body, with a loud crunch Marga's head was cut from her body and slowly rolled across the bloody ground, Salem stumbled to where is lay and picking it up he tossed it high into the night sky where it arched slowly then landed with a loud splash in the dark water then slowly sank into the murky bog.

Strom stood for a moment or two looking up at the night sky, the stars were out and soon the moon would rise and bath the clearing in its soft glow, blood still flowed from his numerous wounds and he grew weaker with each passing moment and shaking his head he spoke.

"When will it end?" he asked of no one then he fell to the ground and lay there like the dead man he was.

Hours later the pallid full moon reached it apex in the ebony night sky and the clearing was indeed illuminated in its languid glow and one could see that the creatures that made the darkness their home had ventured out of hiding to see what offering fate had been left for them, they found a man and a woman covered in blood laying still on the misty ground and seeing that an easy meal was to be had rats and other small vermin quickly began to feast for soon the larger and stronger animals of the swamps would come and there would be very little left for them, but as they bit into the bloody flesh of the fallen man he suddenly sat upright and the feasting vermin chattered like leaves in a windstorm .

Salem Strom had suffered all the pain and anguish that comes with dying but he was a man that death could not hold for his curse was to rise with the moon and walk the land of the living until he was unfettered by his ghastly fate. And picking himself up he gathered up his weapons and turned to look at the headless body of Marga, he gazed on her with longing for she was freed of her curse while he must continue on. Without saying a word Salem Strom plunged into the night disappearing from view.

Chapter Three.

The Dead who walk.

New Orleans was either a paradise or a hell depending on who you were and what you carried in your purse.

If the fates were kind enough to make you wealthy you need not fear, for money opened every door and your slightest wish would be quickly granted, the finest of food and drink, willing women of all kinds from high born French ladies to dark skinned temptresses were yours for the asking. You could wager on battles between men or animals and if you wished for an enemy to disappear that could be easily done for life was a cheap commodity there.

Every street was known for what it had to offer, skilled artisans fashioned gold and silver into fantastic works of art or you could find the latest styles in clothing to impress your comrades or soften the heart of a genteel lady. But there were some places that a man didn't venture unless he was seeking forbidden pleasures or someone to cut out the heart of an enemy with no questions asked.

Cut Throat Lane was known for its dingy bars and sullied gambling houses sprinkled with all manner of over-painted ladies eager to share a glass of wine and a warm bed for a price. The sound of lilting laughter drifted on the night fragrant air mixed with loud gunshots and lurid screams of panic but it was all music to the ears of those who made the cobble stone street their home, and those brigands shared that avenue with wealthy gentlemen looking to satisfy their sordid appetites away from the prying eyes of their overbearing wives, they traveled in fancy dressed packs knowing that there was strength in numbers and should they be set upon by thieves they would have a better chance of surviving.

But on this night, there was one who seemed out of place in spite of the fact that he wore what remained of a once gentlemanly attire, he was tall with a wide brimmed hat pulled low over his pale scared face and he ignored the honey voiced beckoning's of the wanton ladies he passed by.

"Looking for a good time?" one of the strumpets said as she drew close to the tall man but when she saw his damaged face she pulled back and turned her head away for the man bore a brand on his cheek that marked him as an outcast.

Salem Strom had come to New Orleans.

Salem was down to his last few coins but it was enough with a little left over to buy fresh clothing, food and drink after his encounter in the swamp but the past few weeks were sufficient for his wounds to heal and now it was time to continue his search for his creator. He knew that New Orleans was a gathering place for conjurers and practitioners of the dark arts so what better place to seek a man who could bring back the dead?

He walked on stopping only now and then to ask a weary stranger if they had knowledge of an old black man with dark powers but they all shook their tattered heads and walked away quickly, some crossing themselves to turn away evil, up the long street he walked and now and then he caught the glances of some would be robber but they took one look at him and the pistol around his waist and decided there would be little to gain.

The hour grew late as Salem rounded a corner and heard a faint sound from the dark alleyway running from the main street, he stopped and listened for a moment ready to defend himself then realized the sound was a woman crying. He was about to walk away then he remembered that he had once been a gentleman of the South and one who always came to the aid of a lady in distress so keeping one hand on his pistol he slowly ventured into the dark street.

The sound grew louder and moving forward he peaked around a pile of rotting produce and saw a young woman huddled in the shadows. To call her a woman might have been an exaggeration for she was scarcely more than a child, her skin was dark as was her hair, in an instance Salem knew she was of Creole descent, she was dressed in a tattered blue dress and bare feet and she sobbed softly with her head in her hands.

"Are you hurt?" Salem said softly.

The girl lifted up her face and there was something about her delicate features and soft green eyes that immediately drew Salem closer to her, she was about to cry out when Salem put his fingers to his lips, "don't scream I won't harm you".

Shaking the girl rose up and Salem could see a small leather bag hanging around her frail neck, but he paid it little heed, she looked into the pallid face of the man before her, "who are you, what do you want?" she asked trembling.

"My name is Salem and I only want to help you if I can, now tell me your name?" he replied.

The girl's fear eased some, but her face showed that she was still very frightened, "I am Clea".

"What are you doing in this place?" Salem asked trying his best to put the girl at ease.

Clea looked about her like a hunted animal, "if they find me they will make me like them", she said nervously.

"Who are they?"

The girl drew closer to the tall man and spoke in a low voice, "the dead who walk", she said.

Hearing these words struck a chord with Salem and the green eyes of the girl were almost hypnotizing compelling him to hear more, "the dead who walk?" he replied.

"Yes" the girl said, "they look like men but they are not, their souls have been taken by Demballa and how they walk the earth as dead men".

"Demballa" Salem asked, "Who is Demballa?"

At first Clea was reluctant to speak acting as if her words would summon up evil but after a moment she relented, "Demballa is the god of snakes and his power is very great, if you look into his eyes he will take your soul and you will be his slave forever".

The word (slave) had a special meaning to Strom for his face bore the mark of those mistreated people.

"Take me to them" his words spoke more of a command rather than a request.

But the girl shook her head violently, "NO, no, they will turn me into them, please they took my father, my brother and they will take me!"

She bolted but Salem took her by the arm and drew her close to him, he patted her head as she cried and squirmed in his grasp, "I will protect you, I know your fear and I will keep you safe".

The girl eased her struggle and collapse into his arms, "Please save me, save my father, save my brother, if you do this God will reward you".

Salem gave little thought to God for he hoped to find the man who cursed him and end his torment, "take me to them" he repeated.

And nodding her tiny head the girl led her protector from the alleyway and into the night.

The Bancroft mansion was once the crown jewel of New Orleans where the rich gathered for extravagant parties and high born ladies twirled the night away on the arms of handsome gentleman, but the owner was a man addicted to gambling and the bottle and soon the once extravagant plantation fell into hard times and neglect, slaves that made old man Bancroft rich bore the brunt of his anger and many died or ran off until only a frightened handful remained. Then the war came and went, all of the slaves were set free, so with no one to tend his cotton he sought a way to continue his life of sodden pleasures and he found that answer in a dark pack with the Snake King.

Now Salem Strom and a young girl made their way up the weeded path that lead to the crumbling manor. The man and the girl had talked after they left the shadowy streets of the river city for the wooded area surrounding it, Clea told her that her mother had died when she was very young and her father and brother had made a home near the Bancroft land and all was well until her father then her brother vanished and she was left alone, she looked for them in the dense woods surrounding their modest abode but found nothing until two nights ago when she heard strange singing and a light in the trees and in a panic she ran knowing that the Devil was coming to take her.

Now as they came closer to the decaying Bancroft house Clea pulled at the arm of her companion.

"No, stay far from that place" she said her voice once more trembling with fear, "that is the place where the snake kings dwell".

But Salem could only see a ramshackle estate dark and silent in the night, "there is nothing to fear here" he said calmly.

The house rose up like some dark brooding monster, several of its many brick chimneys were crumbling and the wooden roof tiles were missing in spots leaving gaping holes that ebony bats found most appealing, the imported cut glass windows were shattered or missing and the hand carved wood ornaments now hung heavy with moss and webbing, the whole structure whispered of death and decay.

But this didn't dissuade Salem from his quest, on the contrary it seemed call to him, beckoning him to enter and heeding its dark summons he began to make his way to the broken wooden steps that lead into the mansion but not sooner did he take a few steps when the girl called out after him.

"Wait, don't leave me here" and she ran to his side.

Together Salem and Clea made their way to the front door of the gloomy palace, the decking on the front porch creaked and moaned as Salem's weight pressed them down and in the distance a great owl hooted mournfully as if to give a warning to turn and run. Salem place one hand on the tarnished brass door handle while keeping his other on the hilt of his pistol, the door slowly swung open on rusty hinges and a moment later the man and the girl ventured inside.

In a glance Strom could see that the mansion must have indeed been a thing of grandeur in its day, a long winding staircase made of the finest mahogany, gilded French furnishing and a magnificent Persian rug on the hardwood floor, tall marble columns, finely done paintings, delicate French bronzes, elaborate inlayed floors.

All now decaying in the damp Louisiana air, all this must have cost a fortune when new but soon it would all crumble to dust and be lost to memory. Salem thought it strange that looters hadn't taken the booty long ago but then he realized that it must have been fear that kept them a bay, the same fear that seemed to hold Clea in its icy grip.

They walked a few paces forward then Salem drew his gun and spun around catlike taking aim into the darkened corner of the room, Clea held her breath and waited for death to claim her for she was certain that the Snake King was upon them, but it turned out to be only a hungry barn rat searching in the darkness for an easy meal and seeing the red eyes of the vermin she emptied her lungs in a long slow gasp.

But then another sound was heard, a low hissing like steam escaping a broken boiler pipe and as they listened several large snakes slithered out of the shadows and made their way towards the intruders, having grown up in the south Salem was used to dealing with vipers and when one of the serpents drew close enough he lifted his booted foot and brought it down hard on the wedge shaped head of the snake turning it into a bloody pulp, at the same time Clea took up a marble bust from a dusty table near her and lifting it high overhead she flung it down crushing another of the vile creatures, but no sooner did they kill one of the vermin another took its place and soon the floor was crawling with reptiles, Salem drew his pistol and fired shot after shot until his gun was empty then taking up a heavy oaken chair he continued the battle smashing down on the crawling death as they came within reach, Clea jumped up on the table and when one of the fanged beasts lifted its scaly head over the edge she stomped it to death with her naked foot, more snakes appeared out of nowhere and soon the floor was a living carpet of poison death, it was a lucky thing that Salem's boots were fashioned from strong leather for more than once a cunning snake managed to evade his blows and sink its fangs into his foot but they couldn't penetrate the thick rawhide and died seconds later as he man's foot came crashing down, the fight continued for a time as more and more crushed vipers lay on the floor, they were without number, dozens, perhaps hundreds all squirming in their death throws, then sensing what fate had in store the surviving snakes slinked back into the darkness leaving the floor littered with their fallen comrades.

Clea stood upon her table looking down at the bloody floor. "I told you this was the place of snakes" Clea said breathing hard.

Salem shook his head in agreement and dropped the splintered chair to the floor, then making sure that there were no more reptiles to contend with he and the girl passed through the entryway gingerly stepping over the remains of scaled vermin and into a large baroque living room, dust lay heavy on red leather chairs, hand carved wooden tables and great curtains of spider webbing draped from the ornate ceiling, the air was heavy with decay and the rotting remains of mice and rats that were now the only inhabitances of the once proud estate. A pair of shattered glass doors led to the exterior and there was a large marble fireplace at the far end of the room and this caught the eye of Salem for he saw something sitting on its beautify carved mantle. Cautiously he drew closer with the girl following faithfully behind and watching his every move and when they was close Salem reached out his hand for resting on its elaborately carved cradle was a finely made sword, it was covered in webbing and dust but the years could not hide it's magnificence, it had a hilt and handle that were fashioned in the likeness of a serpent or dragon, large ruby eyes were set deep into the snakes head and the stout grip was of ivory, the rest was covered in gold plating and gems. Salem took it down from where it lay and grasp it in his strong hand, the blade was of a strange steel, neither Damascus or English but some unknown metal that evaded rust or wear, it was etched with symbols he couldn't recognize but it brought back memories of his own weapon that he wielded in the war and later was broken by his father. Salem cut the putrid air a few times with his new found weapon to test its balance then finding it excellent he tucked it into his wide belt next to his knife.

With his new blade Salem once more looked up at the mantle and there he saw a portrait of what surely must have once been the master of the plantation, he was a squat fat man with close set eyes and a cruel set to his face, it was easy to see him dealing out punishments to unruly slaves or smiling wantonly as young innocent women were forced to do his bidding.

"We can't stay her" Clea said nervously as she looked around the haunted room.

And seeing that there was nothing further to be gained by remaining Strom moved to the patio doors, opened them and walked into the open air, Salem was eager to be out of the foul air and filled his lungs with the sweet freshness of the evening, most men feared the night but Salem was in his element and looking up at the full moon he felt at home.

Strom was about to speak when a faint light in the woods near the house caught his eye, it was hardly more than a flicker, a will-of-the-wisp but there was something about the way it moved that made it more than that. Clea saw it also and it caused her to grasp the arm of her companion firmly.

She pointed with a trembling finger, "the witch light, it shows the way to Demballa".

Knowing that the girl couldn't be left behind Salem pulled her behind him and began to make his way towards the flickering glow, the woods were dense with vegetation and over grown brush but there was a trail of sorts cutting through it and being a good tracker Salem knew that it was made by the passing of hundreds of human feet, it twisted right and left and the moon was quickly obscured by the thick branches overhead. Now and then Strom stumbled over a protruding root or rock but he dare not strike a light in fear of drawing attention, the girl however seemed to glide over the ground and her dainty bare feet gave out no sound.

They drew nearer the light and when they did they heard singing, a dark ominous song that chilled your soul and sent shivers up the spine, again the girl grew frightened but she didn't turn and run but kept very close to her newly found protector, then the single light turned into many, dozens of torches blazed through the forest and with that eerie glow the morose singing grew louder.

Taking shelter behind a great oak tree Salem slowly peaked around and what he saw made his cold heart pound for there in a clearing was a site the few people had ever seen, dozens of men and women dressed in white and their faces smeared with blood stood swaying to a hypnotic drum beat, they moaned as if in pain and their hollow eyes were vacant and lost, they formed a semi-circle around a great fire that seemed to rise up from a fissure in the earth, and dancing round that fire were several dark skinned women, the were slim and beautiful in the shimmering light, their naked limbs glistened with sweat as they threw themselves into the primitive beat of the drums.

Clea appeared to summon up enough courage to poke her head pass her guardian and what she saw made her tiny heart pound like the drumming in her ear, "Father" she gasped then cupped her shaking hand over her mouth afraid that someone would hear.

"Father?" Salem said turning to look into her eyes.

The frightened girl pointed with her slim finger, "There, my father and next to him my brother, they are the servants of Demballa now!" and she began to weep.

Salem turned in the direction where the girl had pointed and there he saw an older man that bore a strong resemblance to the girl at his side, and next to him stood a young male that could only have been his son, they both stared at the blazing fire and their mouths hung open in the same slack-jawed way as the other soulless men around them.

Looking at the hapless man and boy made Strom grip the handle of his new found weapon hard for he could see that something had taken their souls, something dark and malevolent was at work here just what that was he wasn't sure but he vowed to free those poor souls one way or the other.

Then from the darkness near the circle a man appeared, he was unusually tall with a worn silk hat the made him seem even taller, his skin was ebony in color and he wore a black dress coat and tattered pants over his emaciated body, his face was painted to resemble a grinning skull and his eyes burned like red hot coals, around his thin neck dangled several strange medallions hanging from gold chains, his feet were bare and in his left hand he held a cane with a silver handle in the shape of a snake.

He stood smiling like a demon for a moment to two then leaped high into the air and began dancing around the fire with the naked performers at his side, he lifted his arms high to the night sky and howled like a banshee.

"Is that Demballa?" whispered Salem.

"No" replied Clea, "he is the messenger of snake god, he can summon up the spirt of Demballa and gives it form".

As the girl spoke several men entered the devil circle carrying something extraordinary on their wide shoulders, they were tall and strongly built and wore garments around their waists made from snake skin, their bodies were carefully painted to resemble the coils of a serpent and over their faces they wore masks set with long fangs and red eyes that blazed in the shimmering firelight. They carried a heavy litter of carved wood and in the center of that carry all was large caldron of iron, the huge dark vessel was splattered with dried blood and corruption and attached to either side were thick handles so that it might be picked up and carried.

Salem watched wide eyed as the drum beat started once more and the snake men marched round and round the fire as the men in white chatted and raised their arms to the night sky.

The tall black man began to dance once more then the men carrying the caldron set it on the ground and two of the largest men grasped the handles and lifting with all their might they placed the vessel on the burning fire, it sat there for a moment or two as the flames lapped at it and it grew red with heat.

The naked females ceased their mewing and rose up and began to sway and ungulate to the beating of the beckoning drums, their sweat drenched bodies intertwined in an orgy of wanton lust as they bit and tore at each other until blood began to flow in small ringlets down their supple limbs but they didn't stop, on the contrary they seemed to take great pleasure in the torments they were inflicting on each other and as the drum beats rose to a fever pitch the caldron started to fume and boil and a weird green light floated above the bubbling container.

The tall black man began to dance as before, shouting words that Salem could not understand, the singing grew louder and did the beating of the drums, the messenger of Demballa twirled and leaped like a demon in hell, then as the dancing and pounding rose to a fever pitch the Voodoo man jump high into the air and landed feet first into the bubbling caldron, he stood their smiling for a moment then seemed to melt into the burning liquid.

The blood-stained dancers fell to the ground once more and beat at the earth with their clenched fists and screamed in an ungodly manner to the night sky and as they did a creature slowly rose from the boiling vessel, at first the image wasn't clear but as it lifted above the mist its true nature could be seen. Its head was that of a snake but a much greater size then anything seen before, its eyes were blood red and seemed to possess a wisdom that was deep and ancient, the horse size head continued to rise up until it towered above the fire and there it stayed swaying back and forth to the chanting of its followers.

"Demballa" Salem whispered softly for he knew that this abomination could only be the thing that Clea spoke of.

The young girl continued to weep and she put her hand into her mouth to keep from crying out in terror, but the site before her was only the beginning of her pain for as she looked the snake-god slithered out of the caldron and revealed it enormous body for all to see. How it fit into even that great pot was a mystery for it was the length of a half dozen or more tall men, its girth was enough to hold a pony keg of beer and its tail ended in the same castanet rattles of a pit viper. It slithered about the fire as if looking for something then its red eyes fixed on its prey.

Clea's father moved out from the others like a man in a trace and stood like a statue as the devil snake drew nearer and then opened its great mouth, its foot long fangs dripped venom as the long forked tongue flicked in and out, the old man didn't move as the serpent pulled back its head and emitting a loud hiss it struck!

"Father!" Clea screamed loudly as the long fangs bit into the man who raised her and with that scream the huge snake dropped its feast and fixed its hellish eyes in the direction of where Salem and the girl hide, what manor of power the snake had over the humans around him was unknown, but they turned as one and rushed headlong for the intruders.

It was useless to run now so Salem drew his pistol and with a loud report he brought down those at the head of the oncoming horde then drawing his sword and knife he rushed forward hoping to lead them away from the girl. The followers of Demballa were once men but now they were mindless creatures doing the bidding of their unholy master, there were many of them but their movements were slow and unfocused and that was all that Salem needed to cut them down like wheat at the harvest, his sharp sword cleaved through flesh and bone and severed heads from shoulders as he continued to fight for his life, what his sword didn't finish his stout knife did cutting necks and spraying blood like a fountain.

The naked dancers ran for their lives into the night as the snake god hissed and beat its tail on the ground sending up waves of dirt and dust, it struck out again and again hoping to sink its deadly fangs into the man who dared stand against its minions but the great mouth found empty air or the flesh of the soulless and this only infuriated the monster more.

Then a chance misstep sent Salem to the ground and he was immediately set upon by the enemy and his sword and knife were torn from his hand and tossed into the night, with his head spinning Salem was lifted up and brought before the vile serpent who looked into the face of the man before him, Strom returned the cold stare of the snake and waited for whatever was to come, he looked deep into the burning red eyes of the monster and he thought he could hear a strange voice in his head, a voice that filled him with dread.

"You have escaped me long enough" the voice said, "your soul is mine and I will feast on it through eternity".

The snake slowly opened it huge mouth and drew back its massive head but before it could strike a wild cry was heard and turning his head Salem saw Clea racing forward holding his sword in her tiny hand, she lifted it high and brought it down hard cutting off the tail of the snake god, the serpent whipped it body around but missed the girl and seeing his chance Salem broke free of the men holding him.

"The sword!" he called out and hearing his words Clea threw the blade to him, her aim was true, grasping the sharp weapon with both hands Salem drew back and turned hard cutting off the monster's head.

The snakes body thrashed violently and a green fluid spewed from the severed neck, Salem ran to Clea and taking her in his arms carried her to safety then turned back to watch the monstrous creature die, the huge head continued to snap and bite the air and the headless body violently rolled over and over at last crashing into the caldron and sending up a shower of sparks in the night sky, at last the movements ceased and the snake lay still and at that moment the unholy servants of Demballa were freed of his curse and fell to the ground laying there unmoving.

Salem look at the young girl in his arms, "it is over" he said.

Clea shook her head, "No, there is still a task that needs doing" and rising she began looking through the bodies of those laying on the ground, one by one she looked into their faces until she found what she was looking for.

"Brother" she said and bent down beside a young man who had escaped the blade of Salem, she lifted him up and pulled the small leather bag from around her neck, carefully she poured out its contents into the mouth of her brother and then waited.

Salem stood over her and wondered what sort of black magic she was trying to accomplish?

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Clea looked into his face, "those that are taken by Demballa are made zombie, it is too late to save my father but perhaps I can save my brother", then she closed her eyes and began speaking in a language that Salem had never heard before.

She repeated the strange words three time and making gestures with her hands the eyes of the young man opened and he looked into the face of his sister.

"Clea?" he said softly, "My sister, I was in a dark place, but you found me".

"Yes" she replied, "but you cannot stay, your soul is free now and must journey to that place where we shall all meet someday".

The young man smiled at her, "I will wait for you my sister", then he slowly closed his eyes. Clea kissed him on his forehead and gently laying him on the ground she stood up and turned to the man who she saved, "thank you" she said softly.

"What was in that bag?" Salem asked.

"Salt" she replied, "only salt for those taken by the snake king can be freed if their lips touch salt, you have help save my brother but I cannot help you, I know who you are and what you are, it was not by chance that we met in that alleyway for I knew of your coming and waited till you found me, only you could have faced Demballa for your fate is to walk the earth and battle evil until you are freed of your curse, but beware for you have made a powerful enemy tonight, Demballa is known by many names and walks in many guises and he will not rest until he has your soul".

"How to you know this?" Salem asked.

The girl smiled, "I am not who you think I am, Clea is not the weak-kneed girl you longed to help, I am a priestess of the dark arts and my power is great but I needed your help to save the innocent for only you could have wielded the sword of Demballa".

Salem held up the blood stained weapon looking at it carefully as Clea continued to speak.

"You have many questions and I will answer one of them but no more, the man you seek you will find but your road is a dark one and all the forces of hell will be against you".

Salem stood there for long time pondering the words of the Priestess and he didn't leave the circle until the sun rose and the darkness of the night was no more.

Chapter Four.

Life Taker.

Salem retuned to the shadowy avenues of Cut Throat Lane and for once fortune had smiled upon him for the cards had fallen in his favor and the last few coins in his pocket had yielded up enough money to supply him with the best of food and lodging and for several days and nights he indulged his cravings and buxom ladies were eager to take his money in spite of his outward appearance, but soon the taste of fine wine, women, and succulent dishes grew bitter in his mouth and he turned to other darker matters.

There was very little activity on the worn streets of Cut Throat Lane for over the past few weeks bodies had been turning up at an alarming rate and they were not the regular victims of theft or vengeance that was a part of that dangerous section of the city, women and even children were found with their bodies mutilated, ripped to pieces as if by some wild animal and no valuables taken, it was a ghastly mystery that few people were willing to risk their lives to investigate.

But there was one who didn't fear the night, a tall man with a scarred face.

"Can you show me the way to a woman named Maleva?" Salem asked of the frightened man standing before him, a short drunkard who made his home in the filthy alleyways of that part of town. The light from the lamppost was dim but its soft glow was enough for the fearful man to see the palled damaged face of the person who questioned him, "she lives there" he said pointing a nervous finger down the darkened street.

Salem turned and left tossing him a silver coin as he did and the man almost called out to him that a wise person didn't enter her shop but his kept his mouth closed fearing that whatever devil followed this man would take notice of him. But as held the coin in his greasy fist he heard a gust of wind and quickly turning he had only a second to utter a gutted scream then he vanished, leaving only the blood stained coin to mark his passing.

Salem continued down the dark avenue seeking a woman that some said might hold information that he dearly wished to know, the name Maleva was well known to the inhabitance of Cut Throat Lane for she was the proprietor of a shop specializing in Voodoo and the dark arts.

This particular street was lined with dingy shops offering herbs, trinkets and other magic items that superstitious patrons hoped would bring them wealth, happiness or a lover but Salem wasn't looking for any of these conjured tricks for he understood that no magic bauble could protect him from the powerful evil that sought him out. Salem passed by several pedestrians but they paid him no mind and at last he found what he was looking for, ahead of him was a storefront with a sign hanging over head that read. Madame Maleva, knower of all.

The front window was cracked and dirty and the red paint on the door was pealing from neglect, laying by the entrance as an old dog, looking at it would make you believe that it was a magnificent animal but now it was thin enough so that his ribs stood out like a picket fence and his hair was streaked with white, he lay there as if asleep then raised its head and for a moment it seems that the ancient canine found some mark of recognition, it growled once and put its tired head back on the ground and seeing that the animal would do him no harm Salem turned the door handle and entered the shop.

Inside was not much better than the outside, it was dark and dusty and filled with a jumbled collection of eccentric odds and ends, marble and bronze statuary from the far corners of the earth, filthy glass cases holding exotic stuffed creatures both real and imagined, there were shelves lined with old books offering ancient wisdom and dark secrets of the occult, jars filled with herbs and roots that could cure you of all disease or make you the man you once were, the whole place seemed out of time and space, a small segment of the netherworld set down in the back streets of New Orleans. Salem waited for a time taking in his surroundings then called out impatiently, "is there anyone here?"

He received no reply and was about to leave when a voice spoke to him, "who are you and what do you want?" the words were spoken with a certain accent that didn't coincide with anything Salem had heard before.

He turned to see an old woman, bent and wrinkled like a timeworn oak tree, she wore a colorful dress with embroidered mystic symbols, held in at her narrow waist by a leather belt with a small gold dagger tucked into it, around her neck hung a heavy gold chain set with a small ivory skull, she supported her withered frame with the help of a wooden cane, her hair was white as snow and she stood barely over half the height of the man who summoned her, everything about her was heavy with age except for her eyes, they twinkled with vitality and life. Salem couldn't help but see the similarities between her and the ancient dog that lay outside.

A faint smile pulled at the corners of Salem's mouth, "if you are Madame Maleva knower of all you should know who I am and why I came here?"

Hearing this affront didn't anger the old woman, rather it forced a grin exposing what was left of her teeth, and there was something else in her eyes a recognition and a longing that went unnoticed by the stranger. "So, it's you" she said with a smile.

"You know me?" Salem asked. "Most people come here in fear but you are something different, come with me and we will talk", then she turned and disappeared into the back of the shop, Salem placed his hand on his pistol and followed after her.

The old woman led him down a dim corridor and into a small room, its walls were lined with crucifixes and other symbols of ancient religions dating back to Babylonian times, Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Persian, and Nordic, all of them were represented in some form or another. At the center of the room was a small oval table inlaid with mystic symbols and set with two chairs, hanging from the ceiling about it was a gold candle holder that bathed the chamber in a soft warm glow.

Maleva sat herself down in one of the chairs resting her cane beside her and waited for her guest to do the same, she watched the man move carefully taking in his surroundings and making sure that he wouldn't be entering a trap, at last he sat down but he kept his wide brimmed hat on to shelter his eyes from the light.

The old woman looked at him for a while not saying a word then she laughed, "Salem Strom, I was wondering when you would find your way here".

Salem had been a fixture of this dingy part of the city for some time, so he didn't question how she knew his name, "alright you know who I am now tell me why I've sought you out?"

The old woman leaned closer to the man and spoke in a whisper, "Demballa knows your name."

Hearing that cursed name sent a chill up Salem's spine but his fear didn't show on his face, "Why should he seek me out?" he asked.

This question made Maleva angry, "don't play games with me, you know why he follows you, you are the one that escaped his grasp, he wants your soul and he won't stop until he rips it from your dead body and drags it to hell!" The old woman calmed herself and shook her head, "but you can fight him so show me what you have brought with you". Slowly Salem reached for his belt and drew out the serpent sword that he had taken from the crumbling Bancroft mansion and laid it on the table, Maleva's eyes widened and she ran her claw like fingers over the etched blade and inlaid hilt.

"Hello old friend" she said as if talking to a child, "you and I have seen many things and fought many battles and now you come back to me".

Salem looked puzzled, "you know this weapon?"

"We go back a long time, the blade and I, a very long time, so long that if I told you the years you would laugh and call me a liar" she said quietly, "we have seen kings rise and fall and stood with them as they fought the demons of the night, I was young and strong back then but now I reach the end and it is good that the blade and I should be together".

Salem wasn't sure if the old woman had lost her mind or she was telling the truth but after a moment of consideration he decided on the later.

"How did it come to the old house?" Salem asked.

"Old Bancroft was a customer of mine, he wanted to enlist the help of the dark ones and when I told him there would be a high price to pay he said he would give anything, so I gave him the knowledge to summon up the keeper of the dead and with his help he took the souls of those around him."

"What happened to him?" Salem asked.

This brought a smile to Maleva's wrinkled face, "what happens to all who try to cheat the devil, he lost".

Salem looked down at the ornate blade, "and what can you tell me about this sword?" "It has been known by many names, Excalibur, the Dark Blade, Blood Drinker, Vie Preneur De, Life Taker, the Dragons tooth, Hell Storm, Widow Maker, old man Bancroft paid a king's ransom for it hoping that it could protect him from the evil that was coming for him but he didn't understand its dark magic".

"What magic is that?" Salem asked leaning closer in.

"The sword is powerful, but it has a great thirst for blood and destruction, the longer you hold it the more life force is taken from you" the old woman replied, "In the end you die hollow and soulless".

Salem pondered her words and wish to know how she could have survived its curse, but he understood that some doors are best kept closed so he focused on the here and now, "but I have held it many times and I feel nothing".

Again the old woman laughed, "Foolish man, you are the dead who walk, you have no life to take!"

Hearing those words cut deep into Salem's cold heart, "very well now can you tell me what the days ahead hold for me?"

"For that I will need to look into the ancient cards and listen as they speak to me", and with those words she rose up and went to a small ornate box resting on a chest in the corner of the room, she picked it up and returned with it and set it on the table, it was wonderfully made with inlayed ivory and semi-precious gems set into silver and gold trappings, it had no lock but there was a small bat figure on the lid with a turned up open mouth. "Give me your hand" Maleva said looking into the face of the man across from her.

Salem held out his hand and drawing the small gold dagger from her belt she pricked the finger of the man and let three drops of blood drip into the open mouth of the winged rodent on the box, in an instant the lid popped open and Maleva drew out a deck of what looked like old playing cards, she lifted them in the air and said words that Salem couldn't understand and when she was done she laid the deck on the table beside the mystic sword.

"These are the windows to the past and the future," she said tapping on them with her sharp nailed finger, "with them I can see what has transpired and what is to come but the visions of the future are clouded for events may take place that can change what is to occur for nothing is certain". Salem nodded his head, "tell me what you know".

Maleva closed her eyes and held the cards in her spindly hands and whispered an incantation and as she did the candles above the table began to flicker as if a wind was blowing but no such breeze could be felt on Salem's stern face, the old woman slowly laid out the cards on the table arranging them in a star pattern and when she was done she opened her eyes and looked down at the table, she didn't speak for a time but continued to look at the colorful designs and looking harder Salem suddenly realized that the cards weren't fashioned from paper but something more ominous, he had seen that material before on the battlefields of war and knowing what he did it made him shutter for it was human skin!

For a moment Salem wanted to grab his sword and cut the head off the old woman but it passed as quickly as it came, and he concentrated on the task before him.

"I see the past, you were once young and free and lived a life of wealth and pleasure and indulgence then the war with the North broke out and being a dutiful son you joined in the fight hoping for quick victory and everlasting glory but you soon found out that war was only death and blood, you killed least you be killed and when your homeland lost you had no misgivings, and were glad to returned to your home hoping to put the bloody past behind you and return to a life of comfort but it was not to be for your father refused to free his slaves and when you confronted him he branded his own son with the mark of a slave and put a bullet through your traitorous heart, but an old man used his dark powers to bring you back from the dark place beyond the light".

Salem listened and remembered but he wished to know what may come not the tragedies of his past, "Tell me what is to come" he asked.

The old woman's head rocked back and forth and soft mumblings escaped her wrinkled lips then she spoke clearly.

"Your path is filled with danger" Maleva said softly, "but I can only see a few days ahead, the rest is veiled in mystery but I can tell you this, "you will face the queen of swords," her withered hand rested on the figure of a woman holding a flaming blade, then her eyes turned to a dark figure standing under a full moon, "you will meet a man who walks with death, and in the end you will lose a lover but gain a friend," she paused for a moment as if she was trying to focus her thoughts, "there is something more, something dark and powerful, something that hungers for your soul....."

Her words were cut short by a strong wind that blew into the room carrying a foul odor like the grave, Salem watched as his sword began to rotate like a spinning top, round and round on the table, Maleva could see it also.

"My time has come" she said.

The blade rose up as if held by invisible hands as the wind blew stronger, the sword began to glow with a peculiar red light and the room echoed with the screams of the dying, suddenly the weapon shot out towards the old woman penetrating her chest and heart pinning her to the back of the chair with a loud thud, the wind vanished as did the scream as Salem watched Maleva's mouth gasping for air as her weakened hands helplessly griped the swords handle.

Salem jumped up and rushed to the side of Meleva, he looked into her eyes as he began to pull at the sword.

A faint smile began to form at the corners of her mouth, "when I am gone take the sword, use it for good," she reached for the cane near her but her fingers were too weak to hold it, "my cane will protect you", more blood poured from her mouth, "do not weep for you will see me again but you may not recognize my face for we are bound together in time and space."

Then she closed her eyes and paid the price the fates decreed.

After a time Salem pulled the sword from the old woman's chest and was about to leave when he noticed the wooden cane, at first he thought to leave it behind for it was only a stick of wood and could be of little use but after some contemplation he decided to heed the old woman's warning so he took it into his hand and went out the front door, he looked for the old dog that once lay there but it was gone so down the street he walked and no one saw him go except for one man, a tall man with eyes like the night.

The Crown of Gold cabaret was the meeting place where the most affluent members of New Orleans society came to dance the night away and indulge in their obsessive need to show off just how rich and uncaring they could be. It's ornate walls were lined with gold leaf and the opulently patterned dance floor supported well-dressed ladies dressed in silken gowns dripping with jewels and handsome men who bought them for the ones they loved. Great fortunes were won and lost at the spin of a roulette wheel or the turn of a card, the best of wine flowed like a river and above it all was the laughter of contentment, but in one corner of the room stood a man that seemed out of place for he didn't laugh or dance he just stared unmoving into the murky depths of his wine glass.

Salem Strom hoped to rid himself of the memories he had seen and heard in Cut Throat Lane but no amount of well-aged wine could ease the vision of the old woman and the things she said to him, he held the old woman's cane in his rough hand hoping that it might reveal some inner truth that might aid him, he looked for mystic runes or markings carved into the shaft but found nothing and in the end he decided it was just a wooden cane and nothing more.

So now he consumed glass after glass of the expensive imported liquid but he longed for a cup of good old Kentucky whisky, so he was about to toss away the remainder of his drink when he looked up to see a figure on the other side of the crowed room. She was hardly more than a girl with hair the color of ripened wheat and skin pale like the moon.

As Salem gazed at her, others in the room seemed to vanish and putting down his drink he began moving towards her like a great cat after his prey but as he did she seemed to vanish and reappear in a different section of the chamber, again he moved to her and again she drifted away, Salem began to think that his mind had been taken over my his consumption of wine but as he turned he looked into the eyes of the woman he pursued.

"Were you looking for me?" she asked, her voice was soft and alluring, and looking into her deep blue eyes were like looking into the mysteries of the sea.

"What makes you think I was seeking you out?" Salem replied.

She laughed, a soft lyrical laugh that made Salem's cold heart beat faster, "My name is Maranda and I find myself very lonely tonight".

"Perhaps together we can find a way to end your loneliness?" Salem replied, hearing those words from his own mouth reminded him of a happier time, a time when he was young and the son of the richest man in the county and women hovered around him like bees to honey.

Maranda moved closer and Salem drank in the intoxicating odor of her perfume.

"It's crowded in here" the young woman said, "let's go into the garden where we can be alone", and leading the way she steered her new companion through a glass door, down a flight of stone steps and along a path that was bathed in soft moonlight.

The garden was well kept with dozens of different kinds of flowers and vines, the sweet scent of Jazmine drifted through the air as they passed several amorous couples engaged in lustful activities of one kind or another.

"You haven't asked me my name", Salem said as he followed the woman in red.

"Would it matter?" Maranda replied.

"Perhaps not but I was..."

Maranda turned and smiled at him, "Aren't you tired of coy smiles and endless chatter from empty headed ladies who have nothing to say, watching them preen and giggle and fan themselves unendingly, don't you long for a strong woman who knows what she wants and when she finds it she takes it?"

Salem had to agree that the ladies in his past were the kind that the young girl spoke of and Maranda's compelling face seemed to drive their images from his mind.

After a time they came to a stone arch set with two statues marking the entrance to a maze, the young woman stopped and turned to the tall man, "I prefer to be away from prying eyes when I wish to enjoy the companionship of a man, will you follow me into the maze or would you rather return to the foolishness of those we left behind?" she ran her delicate hands over her body and her lips parted in a way that beckoned them to be kissed.

Salem's heart beat faster for there was something about this woman that drew him closer, a wild dangerous lust that threw caution to the wind and he found that he was helpless to resist.

"Lead and I will follow" he replied.

Showing the way Maranda led Salem into the shadowy corridors of the twisting maze. The leafy walls rose up ten feet and more and it must have taken many years to grow into the lush forest it was now, open places in the twisting labyrinth were filled with marble statues of Greek and Roman gods cavorting with naked females and entwining their bodies in positions of lust that left nothing to the imagination, right then left they walked until Salem didn't know north from south but it didn't matter for all he wanted was to hold the girl in his arms and mimic the craven works of art surrounding them.

As Salem focused his attention on the girl in front of him he thought he saw her image flicker in the moonlight like the ripples on a lake when blown by the wind, but he put it all down to his high consumption of wine and nothing more.

At last they entered the center of the warren, a circle filled with more statuary with a shallow pond in the middle and standing in the crystal clear water was a statue made of polished marble and set with bronze trapping, the figure was an angel with outstretched wings and wearing a golden crown.

Maranda stood at the edge of the pond and looked up at the towering figure, "I like to come here when I'm feeling lonely it brings me peace for a time".

Salem poked at a stone figure with his cane, "I too wish for rest" he said softly.

The young woman began to slowly move around the statue lifting her arms and moving her feet to a music that only she could hear, "isn't the night beautiful? The stars watch us and laugh for they see little creatures scurrying around like ants in short pointless lives, and the moon, she knows all the dark secrets that humans believe are so important".

Her feet hardly touched the ground as she danced about and the more she danced the more lust began to boil up in Salem, he had known many ladies but this one held him in a wanton grip that he had never experienced before.

"Look at me" Maranda said lifting her arms high, "am I not beautiful, the most beautiful woman you have ever seen?"

"Yes" Salem replied unable to take his eyes off her.

Her image moved like a whirlwind until it became a crimson blur then she suddenly stopped and looked at her companion, "Tell me man with no name, are you good with that blade at your side?"

"I have some skill" Salem replied reluctantly for he had other things on his mind then a fencing lesson.

Maranda pulled back the folds on her dress revealing a slim rapier, "then show me" she said dragging the sword from its hiding place and holding it up in her slim hand.

Salem shook his head, "I don't cross swords with women" he said.

The tip of Maranda's blade lashed out and placed a small cut below the scar on Salem's cheek, Salem slowly put his hand to his face and seeing the blood on his fingers he reluctantly took the sword from his belt.

"I don't want to hurt you" Salem said hoping to avoid a conflict.

But again, Maranda's blade shot out and cut into Salem's left arm slicing through the heavy coat and cutting into flesh. Knowing there was no stopping the girl Salem lifted his mystic weapon and braced his booted feet.

Without saying a word Maranda struck but this time Salem blocked her attack and remained unharmed, the girl smiled for a moment then her armed moved swiftly and it was all Salem could do to defend himself.

The fight continued, and Salem soon learned that the girl was more than he expected in a challenger, she moved faster than anyone Strom had ever faced, her fiery blade seemed to have a life of its own and soon he was bleeding from a number of wounds to his arms and legs.

Time passed and Salem's breath came in deep drafts as he tried to keep pace with his skilled opponent but Maranda showed no sign of distress, on the contrary she seemed to revel in the battle and her eyes shown with a fierce determination, red blood ran down Salem's face from the cuts the girl had inflicted and sweat blurred his vision, he tried every trick his fencing master had taught him but to no avail, more wounds appeared on his body turning his new garments into ruins and still Maranda's attack continued as strong as ever, it was then that Salem knew she was only toying with him and he had met his match and although it gnawed at his manhood he lowered his blade.

"You are the best I have ever faced" he said filling his lungs with much needed air. "I'm glad we had no wager for I would have lost a great deal".

Maranda dropped her weapon and moved close to the man, "Oh there are other ways that you can reward me" she said softly, "why don't you cast away your weapons and show me what a man can do".

In spite of his weariness Salem was eager to take her in his arms and give her the reward he had in mind so he tossed all his weapons aside and held her close, her body was surprisingly cold but it didn't matter and he was sure his embrace would warm her, he kissed her lips and she kissed him back then the girl began licking his face like a kitten laps at a bowl of milk, at first Salem welcomed her innocent affection thinking it was just her way of foreplay but soon her licking turned to something else for she placed her lips over the cut on his cheek and began to suck deeply.

Salem let her continue for a time thinking that she would relent but she didn't, on the contrary, she started to moan and twist her body to drink more of his blood, it was then that Salem pushed her away and looked into her face.

What magic had veiled her from view was now gone and what remained made Salem's heart pound not from lust but from fear.

The sweet complexion that once had captured him was now putrid and splattered with a greenish corruption, her golden hair was matted with filth, her ruby lips were now cracked like dry leather and revealed a set of crooked teeth set with two long canines, her eyes burned with a hellish hunger and the crimson dress was now ragged and torn.

Maranda gazed at him with a devilish smile, "what's the matter lover, am I not still beautiful?"

Before Salem could answer Maranda leaped on him and sunk her long teeth into his neck, Strom tried to tear her from his body but she clung to him like a leech all the while drinking in his life's blood. He desperately looked for a way to stop her and his eyes fell on the sword he had so carelessly thrown away, he staggered towards it as he grew weaker and with his last amount of strength he bent down, took up the weapon and struck Maranda on the side of her face with the serpent hilt.

The blow set the demon girl flying and rolling on the ground but once again she rose up and gazed at the man, "that will not save you" she laughed lifting her arms to the night sky, "for I am strong now and the night is my home".

And again she came for the man, her movements were a blur and in an instance her mouth clamped itself over his free hand and bit deep into his flesh, and like before he struck her with his sword but she vanished and reappeared on his right leg drinking more of his blood, wild laughter filled the air as Maranda took what she wanted and weakened Salem fell to his knees.

The girl stood over him like a vulture about to devourer its prey, "You thought I would be the victim this night didn't you?" her words were filled with venom, "but now I am the victor and you will know what it's like to suffer as I did" and she bent down to finish the game.

But there was still life in the man and as she came within reach Salem grasped her around the throat with one hand and with the other he lifted her up and threw her with all his might across the circle where she landed on the Maleva's upright wooden cane that he had put there, the shaft penetrated Maranda's body through the chest and protruded out like a spear. The demon girl rolled over and over on the ground screaming in a hellish voice that chilled the heart, then she laid on her back and lifted her arms to the night sky as if praying to some unknown god to rescue her, one last cry tore from her bloody lips and then she melted away leaving nothing but a ragged dress, a wooden cane and a rancid slime.

Salem turned his head away not from disgust for despite her evil he still had some feeling for her and rising to his feet he whispered a short prayer in an effort to save her soul.

"You could not save her" a voice said.

Salem wheeled around and braced his feet ready to fight if need be, his head spun and his legs felt like water but he vowed that he would not go down easily, he wiped the blood and sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand and tried to focus on the direction the voice called out, quickly his vision cleared and he saw a tall man, even taller them himself, he was dress elegantly in a dark cloak and fancy clothing, he stood with a proud bearing that would have been at home in any court of Europe, his face was drawn and sharply etched with a straight nose and thin lips, his hair was the color of a ravens wing as were his hypnotic eyes.

"Who are you?" Salem said bluntly, "if you seek a fight I am here".

The dark stranger shook his head, "I won't harm you, I only wish to thank you".

"For what?" Salem replied.

"For doing what I could not" the tall man answered.

It was easy to see the Salem had no idea what this man was talking about and the interloper knew it also.

"Permit me to explain" the tall man said, "when I found her she was dying, a victim of neglect and poverty and those that passed her on the street turned their heads for they had seen this retched site many times and their hearts had turned to stone, I took pity on her and made her strong but she was wild and took revenge on the innocent as well as the guilty".

"Then you are like her?" Salem said as he slowly moved towards the sword that he had so carelessly thrown away.

"I created her yes" the man said, "I tried to teach her our ways, to take only what you need to survive and only those who are strong, but she reveled in the hunt and women and children died screaming at her whim, I should have destroyed her long ago but like any father I could not harm my child".

Salem picked up the mystical blade and prepared for the worse, "and now you will kill me" he said dryly.

The tall man shook his head, "No, you and I are much alike, Maranda was young and she could not see what you really are but I have lived a very long time and know the dead when they cross my path".

Salem lowered his sword, "who are you really?" he asked.

"men know me as Dracul, the dragon and although I am Vampir now and a creature of the night I still remember what it was like to feel the sun on my face", he turned his head up and gazed at the night sky and the moon that hung there, "I must go now but you have made a friend tonight and when the time comes I will stand by your side". The man lifted his arms and there was a gust of air and when it passed the tall man was gone.

Then Salem once again heard the words of the old woman ringing in his head, "you will meet a man who walks with death, and in the end you will lose a lover but gain a friend".

It took some time for Salem to find his way out of the maze but once he did he didn't stop to rest for he purchased a strong horse and supplies then quickly left the cursed city heading west.
Chapter five.

Night Flyers.

Grey Wolf was once a strong warrior of the plains, he was brave in battle and counted many coup's amongst his enemies, his wise voice carried much weight in the lodge halls of the elders and his name was known far and wide but that was many years ago before the men from the east came and slaughter the bison and forced his people into lands far from their ancestral homes. Reluctantly he went with his people hoping that someday he and they would return to their sacred lands but he grew old and his people forgot the ancient ways and seeing that he could do no more he escaped the reservation and began his long journey back to his homeland where he hoped to die in peace.

Grey Wolf might have been timeworn but he still possessed a proud bearing that his long years in captivity couldn't weaken, his once handsome face was wrinkled with age but his hawk eyes were still bright and burned with a natural strength, his long braided hair had once been the color of a ravens wing but now it gave credence to his name for it was streaked with grey, he was not a tall man but compact with wide shoulders and strong legs but over the years some of the meat on his bones had melted way given him a gaunt dangerous stature, he wore a shirt and leggings fashioned from deer hide decorated in the old way with colorful beads and dyed cloth, around his trim waist was a magnificent belt of tooled leather set with blue turquoise and a stout antler handled knife tucked into it. He held the reins of his mount in one weathered hand while the other grasped a Winchester rifle with brass studs hammered into the stock, and sitting astride his horse he gave a magnificent image of the untamed primitive, any skilled artisan of the east would have loved to preserve his portrait on canvas but he was far from any civilization and when he was gone there would be no writings or documents to mark his passing save for a song or two uttered around the flickering campfires of his people.

After many days and nights of solitary travel he found himself in familiar surroundings, ahead of him lay the mountains of the Sky Gods, majestic highlands where the ghosts of his ancestors sang ancient songs to the divinities and a warrior could find everlasting freedom. The old warrior filled his lungs with air, it smelled of dried grass and heat but to Grey Wolf it was a fragrance far better than captivity and urging his stout horse forward he headed for the towering snowcapped peaks before him. Another full day and a night he rode stopping only to water his horse and take a few hours of sleep for he could feel that his time was drawing near and he wished for his bones to lay with the other great warriors that came before him.

A day's ride behind the old Indian rode a man who had little care for Native Americans, sacred mountains or anything else that he deemed weak or foolish and he would be very happy when the last of those red skinned vermin was exterminated and the land given to those who were strong enough to take it.

Captain Hartley was a cruel man by any standards one cared to put forth and it showed on his face with cold eyes and hawk like features surrounded by bushy muttonchops meeting in a thick mustache above thin lips, as a young boy he loved torturing small animals and as he grew older his taste for pain and suffering only increased, he joined the army of the North when the war broke out and at last he found a ready outlet for his hatreds, he was feared by the men he commanded and that pleased the Captain and unlike most of the other commanders he reveled in death and destruction. When the war ended he turned his attention to the west where he could continue his rampage on the heathen savages that lived there.

The Captain lifted his hand and the dozen or so Calvary soldiers that were under his command pulled on their horses reins and the long column along with a small supply wagon came to an abrupt halt, Hartley lifted the spy glass that hung from his saddle horn and surveyed the surroundings but all he could see were endless miles of open scrub broken only by small patches of rock.

"Tracker!" Hartley called out, and quickly a young Indian wearing a makeshift uniform moved his painted horse alongside that of the man who summoned him, his name was Eskinospas but the Captain had no intention of lowering himself saying that Indian name so he addressed him by what he did. "Are you sure we're still on his trail?" he asked the young brave.

Tracker looked down at the hard earth with eyes that could see what other couldn't, "Yes" he said confidently pointing towards the mountains in the distance, "he travels in that direction a day ahead".

How a mere savage could know this when he couldn't only made the Captain hate Indians more, "get back in line" he said gruffly and then raising his thick hand the column moved forward. Hartley was a man obsessed, he was given orders to bring in a renegade savage that refused to remain where he was put and that infuriated the Captain to a point that he vowed to find him no matter how long and how far he had to travel, and once he did he would bring him back dead or alive but deep down Hartley knew that it would be the later.

The burning sun was high in the cloudless sky as Grey Wolf rode up a small ridge and as he surveyed the land ahead his keen eyes observed a figure laying on the ground near an outcropping of rock, from that distance he couldn't tell if it was an enemy or a friend, alive or dead? But he knew that the heat of noonday would soon take whatever life still inside it so with a touch of his moccasin heels to his well-trained horse's sides the old warrior headed towards the fallen creature.

His horse moved swiftly and it didn't take long for Grey Wolf to see just what the barren land had offered up to him, it was a man dressed in black with a wide brimmed hat covering his face, and from the look of his foot trail that disappeared in the distance he had walked a long way. The old warrior jumped down from his horse and carefully moved to where the man lay, he held his rifle at the ready and looking down he saw a sword half buried in the sand but he sensed there was something evil about it so he left it where it lay, Grey Wolf carefully tapped the leg of the man with his deer hide foot and seeing that there was no sign of life he bent down and pulled the hat from the man's face.

What he saw made him jump back and point his weapon at the fallen man, his long hair was white as the snow and his face was pale like the dead, he bore a scar on his cheek that was surely made by a branding iron and to the old warrior he looked like an evil spirit from the other side, a creature known as Apotamkin, the drinker of blood.

Grey Wolf knew that a gun would be of no use against a demon spirit from beyond the light and should he run the monster would only bring him down from behind, so he tossed away his rifle, drew his knife and made himself ready to die like a warrior.

"Wake Demon", he said loudly, "I am Grey Wolf and I will not die easily". But still the man-demon lay still and once more he poked at him but still the creature lay didn't move and thinking that perhaps he might be mistaken the old man went to his horse and returned with a cantina, he bent down and poured some of the precious water into the parched lips of the fallen fellow and when he did the man with white hair opened his eyes.

Salem Strom had traveled a long way since he left New Orleans, he rode across Texas and into the New Mexico territory, along the way he had good fortune at the gambling tables but his luck ran out when the horse he was riding broke his leg and he was forced to make his way on foot, Strom was a strong man but three days under the hot sun was enough to sap his strength and he lay down to die knowing that with the rising of the moon he would return to suffer more agony.

Salem took in two more gulps of the lifesaving water then sat up, "Thank you" he said to the old man who had saved his life.

Grey Wolf was not a man who talked without saying what he thought, "what are you?" he asked.

Salem had many encounters with plains people and knew that they were not ones to lie too, "My name is Salem Strom, I was once a man but I died and was brought back from the dead and now I seek the man who cursed me with everlasting life", Strom waited for the old man to run away in terror or try to kill him but he did neither he just sat there looking into his eyes.

"You must be hungry" Grey Wolf said.

Captain Hartley pushed his men onward hoping to catch up to his prey but as he reached a small rise Tracker rode up beside him.

"We must stop" the Indian said.

Very much annoyed the Captain raised his hand again and the column halted, "what are you talking about?" he asked with a scowl on his face.

Eskinospas face was not angry, he was scared, "We must turn back".

"Turn back, are you mad?" Hartley replied, "Why the devil should I listen to you?"

"That place" the warrior said pointing to the mountains in the distance, "we cannot go there, if we do we will die".

Captain Hartley had reached the end of his patience and drawing his gun he placed a bullet into the heart of his tracker and the man fell to the ground, then he coolly holstered his weapon and raised his and once again, "Move out!" he called and the long column of soldiers obeyed.

The moon was up and the night sky sparkled with a million stars as Salem and his new found friend sat near a small fire sheltered in the cluster of rock close to where they had met, they ate dried bison and each told stories of how they came to such a place but unlike a civilized man Grey Wolf excepted as true all the fantastic encounters Strom spoke of.

"Your path is crossed with evil" the old man said, "but the Great Spirit has seen fit to protect you".

Salem didn't believe in a great spirit or any all-powerful god but he didn't want to insult the man who rescued him so he just nodded his head, "it seems that we both have escaped death, let's hope he doesn't find us", the last part was meant as a joke but the old man didn't laugh.

"I go to meet death" Grey Wolf said gazing into the fire, "I have lived too long and seen too much and now I wish to be free of this life", as he said this a long howl was heard in the distance, "hear that? A wolf calls to the night, he is free as I wish to be".

Salem pondered his words, "I too wish for an ending but I must find the one I seek before I can rest".

They both sat there looking into the fire and thinking thoughts that only they knew then after a time the old man smiled, "enough of this dark talk, let me tell you of when I was young and strong and the many squaws the came to my tent".

And so they passed the night away each trying to outdo the other in tall tales of the heart.

The night past quickly and before dawn Salem and Grey Wolf sat upon the same horse and heading in the direction of the sacred mountains, with both of them astride one horse they wouldn't be able to cover as much ground in one day as a single rider but when the sun was high they were able to enter a canyon that marked the entrance to a place the Indians called The Shadow Lands.

Sharp jagged cliffs rose up on either side and through the center ran a dried river bed littered with small stones and the remnants of fallen rocks from the cliff sides, it wasn't a place that you'd wish to be in if there was an earthquake for it would quickly become your tomb.

Grey Wolf seemed to sense the nervousness in the man riding in back of him, "we must pass through this canyon, there is no other way", he said.

But something seemed out of place to Salem, maybe it was the confining space or the fact that it was so quiet with only the hoof beats of their horse echoing off the rock walls on either side, or maybe it was just his imagination? But real or illusion Salem kept one hand on his pistol.

They rode onward through the twisting canyon seeing no sign of life only rock and more rock then Grey Wolf pulled on the reins and they stopped, the old man looked down at the hard ground.

"Wagons and men have pass this way" he said, and this he found very troubling for settlers gave this canyon a wide birth and took the long way around to travel to the western sea but there was no mistaking the heavy imprint of cart wheels and iron shod hoof prints, "this is sacred land, they don't belong here", but there was little to be done now so they continued onward.

The rode in silence for a time then Salem spoke, "why is this land holy to you?" he asked, it was a fair question for Strom could see no value in barren rock.

Grey Wolf had spent many years among the white men and learned their language and beliefs but there were certain words that didn't translate well to his people and one of them was the reference (holy).

"My people don't come here to pray, we avoided this place because it is where the night flyers dwell" he replied.

"Night Flyers?" Salem asked.

"That is the name given to them by those that came before" the old man said, "once we lived here and our lives were happy but then the dark ones came and my people fled, since that time no one comes here". The next question was easy to see coming so Grey Wolf answered it before it was spoken, "this is the place that I came to die, here great spirits battle against evil and I wish to stand with them".

They continued their journey in silence and soon the narrow canyon widened into a valley of sorts with a trail leading out at one end, tall walls of rock still hemmed them in but they were studded with small caves and one large dark opening high up a steep incline, it was all perfectly natural looking but still something bedeviled Salem, a prickling at the back of his neck that wouldn't go away, there was evil here he was sure of it and the name (night flyers) echoed in his brain.

More questions ran through Salem's mind as Grey Wolf's horse rounded a corner but his musings were cut short by what lay ahead, there in the dry river bed were several wagons intact except for their ripped and shredded canopies, there was no sign of oxen or horses that pulled them and nowhere were the men and women that drove them.

For a moment or two Grey Wolf stared at the abandoned wagons then his keen eyes searched the rocks and sky as if looking for a target to level his rifle at but there was nothing to be seen and with no other way he and his companion rode closer to the mystery.

Salem jumped down as they drew close to the nearest wagon, and soon after the old warrior did the same, they stood looking for any vestige of life but they found nothing, without talking they both began looking through the remains of the caravan hoping to find something that would solve the riddle but what they found only added to it, the wagons were filled with goods of all kinds, food, clothing, weapons, furniture, farming tools, gun powder even gold and silver, everything that one would need to clear the land and start a new life. From those clues it was easy to surmise that whoever did this was not motivated by robbery, and if it was a crime of vengeance where were the bodies?

"Nothing makes sense" Salem said shaking his head, "from the number of wagons there must have been several dozen men and women, where are they, there isn't a mark of horses or footprints leaving here so where did they go, they couldn't just fly away?"

Grey Wolf didn't reply but looked up at the sky and the waning light, "we must leave here" he said, "We must go now!"

But before Salem could answer a man spoke, "Move and die" he said.

Strom and Grey Wolf had been so focused on solving the mystery of the wagon train they were easy prey to ambush and they knew that any move towards their weapons would mean certain death for they saw a column of riders pointing guns at their heads.

"Drop your weapons" the Captain ordered.

And seeing that their positions were hopeless Salem unbuckled his belt and his gun and sword fell to the ground followed by Grey Wolf's rifle.

Captain Hartley had waited a long time for this moment and moving his tired mount closer he looked into the face of the old warrior, "you thought you could escape me didn't you savage?" his words were heavy with hatred, "but I knew that I would find you and now I have", he got down from his horse and stood beside the two men, he looked Salem up and down, "I expected to find a filthy red man but I never thought he would be traveling with a freak".

Anger rose up in Salem and he was about to reach down, take up his sword and cut off the man's head then wait for the bullets to rip into him and he would have excepted that fate willingly knowing that with the moon he would rise again but Grey Wolf would surely die with him and he refused to except that responsibility so he fought down his rage and said nothing.

Hartley's men dismounted and surrounded the tall man and the Indian, "I know who this vermin is" the Captain said pointing to Grey Wolf "but I don't know you, what's your name slave?"

It was all Salem could do to withhold his rage, "my name is for my friends not some low down Yankee scum like you".

Hartley's temper sprang to the front and drawing back his arm he struck Salem with all his might and that was too much for Strom to take and letting his anger free he returned the punch reeling the Captain back on his heels.

Hartley's men were about to open fire when the Captain raised his hand, "Don't kill him, take him alive!"

The fight was on, Salem brought down the first to men who came within reach with blows to their jaws and midsections and continued the fight as several more soldiers piled on top of him, he kicked like a mule and his iron fists cracked ribs and splintered teeth. Grey Wolf might have been old but he fought beside his friend like a demon all the while shouting ancient war cries and his efforts paid off sending much younger men to the ground but in the end he and Salem were overpowered by sheer numbers.

Wisely Hartley stayed clear of the battle but when victory came he once more took command, "bind them" he ordered, and quickly their hands were bound behind their backs and a rope tied around each of their necks, "get use to that rope" Hartley said wiping the blood from his lips were Salem's blow found its mark, "I'm taking you both back to stand trial and then I well watch you hang!"

Salem and Grey Wolf were taken to one of the wagons and the end of their ropes were tide to one of its heavy wheels then their legs were bound with more rope and seeing that they couldn't escape the Captain looked pleased and turned to his second in command, a heavy set Sargent with a taste for drink.

"We'll spend the night here and start back in the morning" Hartley said, "but this calls for a celebration, break out some rum".

This was sweet music to the Sargent's ears for he yearned for a good stiff drink when they first started out on their long dry trek and over the weeks that followed that nagging thirst had only grown in intensity, so he took little time getting to their small supply wagon and breaking open a keg of the strong libation.

The sun had long set and Hartley and the soldiers under his command were feeling very contented as they sat around a large fire and sang vulgar songs about loose women and the things they would do to them once they returned to civilization.

The Captain sat to one side and filled his mind with images of his captives being led to a scaffold, blindfolded with a rope around their necks and with a word from him dropped to their deaths, he played that scenario over and over in his dark mind savoring every jerk of their legs, every gasp from their gaping mouths as they slowly strangled to death then after a time he turned his attention to the sword that the branded man once wore. It lay near him along with the scarred man's pistol and the Indians rifle, they belonged to him now, payment for his efforts, he picked up the Winchester and held it to his shoulder sighting along its long barrel, he had to admit that it was a wonderfully crafted weapon, far too good for a savage to own, putting it down he checked the holster and handgun that were now his, he found them well made and worth owning, at last he picked up the sword and this made him smile even though he was far from a good fencer, the jeweled blade, the workmanship all told him that he could sell it for a very good price.

At the same moment there were two men who would have given a great deal if only they were free of their bonds, Salem was strong but no matter how he tried he couldn't break the strong rope that secured his hands and feet and if he struggled to much the guard posted to watch over them would shout a warning no matter how drunk he had become.

"It's no use" Salem whispered to the old man who lay beside him, "maybe if we wait long enough they will drink themselves to death?" the last part was meant as a joke to ease their helpless predicament, but Grey Wolf didn't smile.

"I'm sorry my friend" the old man said solemnly, "I fear none of us will live to see the sun".

Captain Hartley gripped his greedy fingers around the jeweled hilt of his confiscated weapon when he heard a strange sound emanating from the darkness overhead, to him it seemed like a flock of birds, but he knew that birds didn't fly at night so what manner of airborne creature would do so escaped him and before he could solve the mystery the screaming started.

Out of the night sky large dark creatures began to swoop down and as they passed in a rush of air they left behind a man crying out in pain, in an instant the camp was thrown into a panic with drunken men firing their weapons wildly into the air and calling out to each other for help, their bullets found only empty air but the creatures that were attacking them did so with an uncanny precision, each attack left a man bloody or dying with deep lacerations to his face and body, and when they fell their bodies were lifted into the air by the black winged monsters. Not even the horses were spared as they struck out with hoofs and teeth, but some were lucky enough to break free of their halters and raced away into the night.

"Night Flyers" Grey Wolf uttered softly viewing the mayhem surrounding them, "hide".

Salem and his companion quickly took cover under the wagon that they were bound to and lying flat as best they could they watched as the Calvary men were killed one by one, horrible screams filled the air along with a high pitched wailing that cut into the ear and held the brain in a grip of pain.

The death dance went on for what seemed like forever then the screaming ceased along with the pain in his ears. Lifting his head Salem looked out at the carnage around him, the campfire had spread engulfing an abandoned wagon and the dried wood along with its contents bathed the scene in a warm golden glow, what Strom saw made his stomach turn for severed limbs along with bloody entrails lay everywhere, what had once been men were now nothing more than bits and pieces fit only for some devils soup.

Grey Wolf could also see the remnants left behind by the creatures of the night, but he also knew something his companion didn't, "we must free ourselves, they will be coming back!"

That was all the encouragement that Salem needed to hear to renew his efforts to break his bonds and using the iron rim of the wagon he managed to cut through the thick rope and at last he had the use of his hands, working quickly he untied his legs then freed the old man and together they stood unfettered looking out at the horrible site before them.

Salem had seen what a battery of cannon fire could do to an advancing enemy but this went beyond the horrors of war and although they treated him like a prisoner they were still humans and he vowed that whatever ungodly creatures did this he would hunt them down, then his eyes caught a dark mound laying just outside the ring of firelight, it twitched and moved and seeing that one of the soldiers might have escaped the gruesome death of his comrades Salem walked towards it picking up a rifle that lay on the ground in case the mound turned out to be something other than human.

Grey Wolf was certain what the thing was, but he saw it as an easier way for his cohort to understand just what they were up against and taking up a bloody handgun from a severed hand he joined his white haired friend.

Several steps later Salem looked down on the thing in the shadows and what he saw made him shutter for lying there was a great bat the size of a man, its body was covered in matted fur streaked with fresh blood and entrails, its head was as large as a pigs with ears the dimensions of a woman's parasol, the nose was broad and flat and below it was a massive jaw lined with razor sharp teeth and a set of canines top and bottom that easily pierce a man's skull, the width of its parchment wings was more than the height of two grown men and its muscular legs could seize and hold with its clawed toes the size of pruning hooks, in any world this thing was a nightmare.

The creature turned its flat nose face towards the humans and began snapping its foaming jaws together franticly spraying bloody foam in the air and if it wasn't for a broken wing and two bullet holes in its barrel like frame it would have rose up and attacked. Grey Wolf stood beside Salem and watched the creature's futile efforts, "My people were driven from this land by these devils, they come out at night seeking blood and flesh and when they find it they carry it back to their lair and there they slowly feast on the living and the dead", then he pointed high up the stone cliff at the large opening, "That is their home".

In the glow of the rising sun Salem could make out the dark portal, "Then that's where we'll go" he said flatly. The old Indian shook his head, "this is my fight, take what you can and go". Now it was Strom's time to disagree, "you helped me when I needed it, now I will help you".

"You will die" Grey Wolf said. This made Salem smile, "I have done it before".

The two men began searching for weapons and supplies to carry out their mission, arms were not a problems for all about them lay discarded guns and enough ammunition to kill hundreds of men but Salem was well versed in warfare and he knew that two men would never have enough firepower to kill all the flying death before they would be ripped apart so he came up with a plan that he thought would succeed.

"Gunpowder?" asked Grey Wolf tilting his head to one side.

"Yes" Salem replied, "we carry the powder to their lair and light the fuse then we make our escape".

"It is a long way up" the old man said looking at the cave entrance in the morning light, "and we must do it before the sun sets".

"Then we better hurry" Strom added.

Without further discussion Salem and the old warrior made themselves ready, first they took two small barrels of the explosive powder along with fuse from one of the wagons and fashioned makeshift harnesses from strips of leather found on the dead horses, next they loaded two rifles to capacity and strapped handguns arounds their waists along with stout knives and a small bag that Grey Wolf attached to his gun belt, it would be a heavy load so they ate and drank what they could and left the rest.

Salem's only regret was that he wasn't able to find his sword and with the sun rising higher and higher there was no time to search for it so slinging long ropes and their rifles over their shoulders Strom and Grey Wolf began their quest for revenge.

As they headed for the canyon wall Salem bent down and picked up a half empty bottle of whisky and although it wasn't from Kentucky he took two deep gulps and offered it to his companion who shook his head (no) so taking one last draft he tossed the inferior liquor away where it shattered against a rock.

The cliff leading up to the cave entrance was steep but not impossible to climb but every inch of the way was hazardous, loose rock fell with each step and now and then a large bolder would become detached from its rocky cradle and come tumbling down in a shower of dust and debris, once Salem was almost decapitated from a stone the size of a pumpkin that narrowly missed his head and Grey Wolf lost his footing and if it wasn't for the quick thinking and strong hand of his friend he would have plummeted to his death. A misstep sent Salem to the ground and the rifle he carried slip from his shoulder and before he could react it tumbled end over end to the canyon floor far below. All day long they climbed and soon Salem began to regret the fact that they had left their water behind, but the old man told him to put a pebble into his mouth and that seemed to ease his thirst.

At last they were within completion of their task but jutting out from the cliff face was an overhang of solid rock and seeing there was no way to climb around Salem took the rope he was carrying and fashioning a loop at the end he twirled it over his head and managed to lasso a dried tree branch that had attached itself to the rocky projection. Strom tested the fastening then drawing in a lungful of air for courage he dropped into the air and began climbing up the sturdy twine, the long climb had been arduous, that and the added weight of the barrel of gunpowder on his back tested the limits of his fortitude. Hand over hand he went, all the while the dried branch crackled and twisted and small pebbles showered down on his head, it took all of Salem's strength to reach the top of the ledge and pull himself over, he lay there for a moment then stood up and gathered up the rope and tossed the end to the old man, Grey Wolf had a much easier time with Salem pulling him up and soon the two men were standing side by side looking into the darkness of the cave.

"We must hurry" Grey Wolf said, and Salem knew it also because the sun was going down and long shadows slowly made their way up the steep cliff side.

"we will need something to light our way" the old man said and he quickly took his knife and a few blows on the weakened tree branch and he had a length of dried wood for a torch, he added some dead moss to the end and taking steel and flint from the small bag on is belt a flame arose, the two men quickly checked their weapons and adjusting the deadly loads they carried they slowly made their way into the darkness. Salem lead the way with the torch in one hand and his pistol in the other, Grey Wolf still had his rifle and was ready to use it should they be set upon by the night demons.

Although it was dark there were slight breaks in the entrance walls that allowed small shafts of light to penetrate the cave adding to the torchlight and that was good for the floor on which the two men walked was jagged and littered with bits of rotten flesh that the carnivorous bats carried into their lair. The smell inside was almost unbearable, a deep pungent odor that reeked of death and decay, and something else that Salem couldn't recognize, still the two men fought down the urge to retch and continued onward.

The entrance soon opened up into a much larger chamber, its ceiling was the height of a cathedral and obscured by darkness, in the dim torchlight the two men were still able to make out hundreds of stalactites hanging down like great fingers of rock, for a moment Salem thought he was inside one of those solemn places of worship but what he saw next reaffirmed his belief that God was just a myth for no merciful deity would allow what was there. Nearer to them, at the bottom of the cave were stalactites jutting up towards the roof but they and the rest of the floor was concealed in a thick blanket of dung crawling with millions of maggots and slime covered insects the size of Salem's thumb, they scurried about over bodies of animals and humans alike some old and some fresh, many of the huge bugs had wings that rubbed together in a chatter that echoed from the gunge covered walls in an ominous concert.

As Salem looked closer he made out familiar faces, the second in command sergeant and several of the cavalrymen, some of them were still intact but other were just mangled body parts, the insects gnawed on them with their powerful mandibles and it was a good thing that the men were dead for this would have been a fate that would have driven any sane man mad and although they had beaten and bound him he still wished they were resting under the ground instead of a feast for vermin. But they weren't here to bury what was left of their captors their mission was to end this carnage once and for all.

"We have to take the powder to the center of the cave" Salem said in a low voice, "that way the explosion will kill them all".

Grey Wolf knew very little about explosive ordnance preferring to meet his enemy face to face, so he trusted in his friend's wisdom, "you lead, and I will follow".

Strom looked around and seeing no other way he moved forward and stepped into the ghastly slime, Grey Wolf didn't hesitate and followed behind, with each step forward the men's feet crushed hungry bugs and squirming maggots into an oozing paste that was immediately gobbled up by the creatures left unharmed, what they didn't kill crawled up their legs and the two men did the best they could to keep them from reaching their faces.

As they proceeded Salem noticed bubbles lifting up from the mire, they grew larger until they burst spewing out a foul-smelling gas, Strom had very little knowledge of chemistry but a professor of that field would have quickly recognized the gas as ammonia but Salem had done poorly in that subject at his expensive boarding school and paid no attention to them.

The wiggling corpse littered mire grew deeper by the moment and soon they were up to their knees in crawling horror, no one could say that Salem wasn't a brave man having faced war and demons alike, but this tested his courage too it limits as several of the vermin tried to enter his mouth and he had to kill them with a snap of his jaws. Grey Wolf didn't fare much better, but he had one free hand to slap the little monsters from his weather worn face all the while uttering vile curses in his native tongue.

At last they came to what Salem believed was the center of the cave and they were lucky to find a small plateau of rock lifting out of the crawling quagmire and climbing up they were mostly free of the biting pestilence, Strom and the old man shook what was left of their tormentors from their bodies and took stock of their surroundings, the rock was flat for the most part but still covered in bat droppings and several inches deep with maggots, when Salem lifted the torch higher he found something he wasn't expecting to find, there jutting out of the filth was the tip of his sword and holstering his pistol he moved to where it was and tried to pull it free but as the blade became more visible he saw that the hilt had a hand attached to it and that hand was connected to the arm of the Calvary man he had fought.

Captain Hartley lay half buried in the undulating horror and what little showed of his body was pockmarked with black beetles eating into his flesh but that was not the worst of it for he was still alive. Hartley looked up at Salem with a face covered in blood and filth, he had only one eye for the other was being eaten away by a host of ravenous maggots, he opened his mouth to speak but he could only utter one word.

"Die".

Salem wasn't sure if he directed that at him or it was a request to end his misery? And imagining what torment the man was going through Strom took pity on him and drove his sword into the dying man's heart, the Captain gasped once then lay still and entered whatever afterlife was waiting for a man like him.

Salem drove the torch into the mire holding it upright and tucked the mystic blade into his belt then returned to the work that needed to be done quickly for sunset was coming and with the darkness the demons of the night would awake, without saying a word the two men removed the barrels of gunpowder from their harnesses and sat them on the stone floor, then Salem reached into his coat hoping to find the fuse that would allow them to make their escape before the black powder turned the cave into an inferno but he found nothing.

"One of us must stay behind and set off the powder" Salem said without any sign of emotion. Grey Wolf nodded his head in agreement, "Yes, you go and I will stay". "Why would I entrust something so important to an old man like you" Salem replied hoping to offend his friend enough that he would save himself but Grey Wolf understood what he was trying to do and returned the insult.

"I have seen many years, but I am still among the living and not a soulless nightwalker whose spirit has abandoned him!"

The two men stood gazing at each other with their hands on their weapons hoping that the other would back down first, but the outcome of that conflict was interrupted by a fluttering of wings.

Salem looked up to see a night flyer drop down out of the darkness of the ceiling, it flapped its wings and glided silently around the cave, after a moment or two it was joined by one then other of its companions.

"We are too late" Grey Wolf's voice was edged with acceptance.

"Then we'll died together" Salem roared and taking his pistol he smashed open the top of one of the barrels exposing the black powder within, he took up the torch and was about to plunge it into the cask when the bats attacked.

With a gust of wind one of the flying creatures bore down on the tall man and taking the flaming torch Salem struck it full in the face sending sparks flying and tearing the torch from his hand to fall into the muck, luckily no sparks fell into the gunpowder but the heavy fur of the bat ignited and it flew away like a fireball, flapping its leather wings and screeching loudly, it flew low over the quagmire and the heat from its burning body set the bubbles of Ammonia ablaze lighting up the whole cave in a fiery glow.

With the new light Grey Wolf looked up at the ceiling and there he saw the great horde of Nigh Flyers hanging like rotten fruit, he uttered a prayer for courage and lifting his rifle he began firing at the waking army of the night. At the same time Salem drew his sword and pistol and what he didn't bring down with a well-placed shot he cut in too with his blade. The fire grew more intense spreading over the cavern floor until the small plateau of rock was like a raft in a sea of fire, the crackle of burning insects, gunfire, roaring flame and the high pitched chirping of bats mixed together in a symphony of horror, confused by the flames and smoke many bats flew to close to the fire and with their fur blazing they collided with others of their kind until the air was crisscrossed with burning death.

Salem knew it was only a matter of time before he and the old man would die so he tossed away his empty revolver and grasping his sword with both hands he struck right and left cutting through flesh and bone and sending night flyers to their deaths. Grey Wolf also knew that his time had come but he smiled knowing that he had ended his life like the warrior he was and that his spirit would continue to inhabit the land of his ancestors.

Salem and Grey Wolf fought back to back killing anything that came within their reach and when the old man's rifle emptied Strom protected him until he could reload, on and on the battle raged then with their ammunition gone Grey Wolf drew his knife.

"Thank you, my friend," the old warrior said, "it is good to die standing beside a brave man". "We're not dead yet!" Salem replied, but what Strom saw next made him think that he was too hasty in his remark for coming straight for him was a bat three times the size of the ones they had seen, it opened its massive jaws ready to feast on the human in front of his eyes, there wasn't time for Salem to shout a warning so he pushed the old man away and lifting his sword he ducked low and as the huge monster passed over him he drove the long blade into its chest, the creature twisted violently and Salem hand was caught in the hilt of the sword and unable to let go the monstrous bat pulled him into the air.

Around the burning cave the huge creature flew with the human hanging from its chest, blood poured from the wound covering Salem from head to toe and knowing that if he lost his grip now he would plunge to a fiery death Strom held on to his sword with all his might, the monster flapped it great wings churning the fiery air like a tornado and headed for the tunnel leading out of the cave.

The remaining night flyers turned their attention to the old man cutting into his flesh until he was bleeding from a dozen wounds and still Grey Wolf didn't surrender, he cut into fur and bone with his knife and shouted war cries all the while laughing as he did until he sank to his knees exhausted, he looked around for his friend but saw nothing and he knew that he was gone, it was then that he took out his flint and steel and held them over the barrel of powder then lifting his head to the heavens in one last prayer he struck them together creating a red spark.

There was a flash of light and a massive boom then the whole cave and all it contained shattered into bits of rubble and fire.

The flames raced out the tunnel and just before it engulfed man and beast the huge bat flew into the night sky still carrying its unwanted passenger, Salem was almost at the end of his strength as his fingers began to lose their grip, then the wings of the great bat began to flap slower and slower and bloody foam bubbled from its jaws and he knew that his sword had found it mark, at last it glided close to the ground and Salem let go just before the monster crashed against the hard earth sending up a huge cloud of dust into the starlit night. Salem rolled over and over then lifted his head to watch the monster twitch for a moment before it lay still and then the world around him turned dark and he lost consciousness.

The sun was high in the cloudless sky when Salem was awakened by something wet licking his bloodstained face, he immediately opened his eyes and quickly rose to his feet thinking that it was another of the winged nightmares returned from the dead but after a moment or two he realized it was only Grey Wolf's pony, somehow it managed to elude the night flyers and came back seeking its master but finding his companion instead.

"Your master is gone" Salem said as he patted the loyal horse on its soft muzzle, "but I will care for you if you'll let me?" The pony pushed harder against Salem's hand and he took that for a yes so he walked the short distance from where he was to the carcass of the monstrous night flyer and drawing out his blade he lifted himself on the horses back and together they headed back to the column of abandoned wagons.

Salem spent the rest of the day cleaning himself of the filth of the cave and gathering up weapons, supplies and a fresh change of clothing and as the sun began to set turning the canyon into a place of shadows he headed for the end of the valley and the land that lay beyond, but as he rode he couldn't help thinking of his friend and he hoped that he would find the peace he so bravely fought for, it was then that he heard an animal howling to the emerging stars and he knew that the spirit of Grey Wolf was alive and free.

Chapter Six.

Yaoguai.

A thick fog hung low over the Barbary Coast of San Francisco as inspector Hannaford wearing a bowler hat over his close cropped hair and a heavy coat to guard against the chill in the air made his way down the creaking wooden pier that led to the recently arrived Chinese cargo ship, in the bright moon light any denizen that frequented the docks would easily recognize him for he was a bear of a man with and open face that always seem to be hidden by a thin veil of cheap cigar smoke and hence he was given the name "The Dragon" by the notorious Tongs that kept that part of the coastal city in a grip of fear. He was not a violent man despite his nickname but he didn't hesitate to use his size to intimidate suspects into revealing the truth when needed, right now he was simply looking into a missing person report or to be more precise missing person's for not one but a whole crew of sailors seemed to have vanished. Beside him walked an eager young detective by the name of Manly and that surname was an endless source of amusement to the officers back at headquarters for he was slight of stature and cursed with a high-pitched voice.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed at this hour" Manly said lowering his speech as best he could, "but I thought that you would be interested in this one".

Hannaford was well known as a man who loved mysteries, solving problems and coming up with an answer when others couldn't so his superiors knew that he was the perfect man for the job.

"You said that no one was left on board" the big man said with his teeth clenched tightly around his thick cigar, "If that's so who the hell called the police?"

"It was one of the warehousemen" the thin man replied, "the ship sailed in and docked but when they went on board to unload the cargo nobody was there".

It was indeed a mystery, but Hannaford was convinced that it could be solved quickly for he was sure that it was just an oversite on the part of the men who came on board so as they neared the old ship he was certain he would be back in his warm bed before the sun came up.

Gathered round the old ship were several dozen gawkers and dockworkers but they were kept at bay by baton carrying policemen, but along with them was a squat stocky man of oriental decent, he wore a short black tunic and a red headband that marked him as a member of the Wah Ching tong a secretive and violent organization that had their hand in many of the lucrative vices of that part of the city, he stood in the shadows apart from the others and kept his eye on "The Dragon".

Inspector Hannaford stopped at the foot of the long gangplank that bridge the gap from dock to ship and looked over the old vessel, there was nothing unusual about it just another square rigger who had seen better days and would soon end up on the scarp pile as steam power took over the sea's, but there was one thing that caught Hannaford's keen eye, the name of the ship.

"Yaoguai"

The big man has some knowledge of Chinese so he knew the name originated from that far off culture but what it meant he didn't know so he turned back to the matter at hand.

"Has anyone been on board other than the warehousemen? The inspector asked.

"No sir" Manly quickly replied, "When no one answered his request to board he called us". "That was a good move on his part" the big man said, "He knew that we didn't want men cluttering up the place". "It wasn't the reason he stayed clear on the ship", Manly replied. "Then what was?" Hannaford asked.

"He was scared".

The inspector took two long puffs on his cigar and shaking his head he walked up the long gangplank and stood upon the worn deck of the mystery ship, to him nothing seemed out of order, everything in its place, rigging secured, sails furled, foremast, mainmast, mizzenmast all ship shape, then he noticed something amiss with one of the cargo holds, coming closer he saw that the heavy wooden hatch cover was broken and splintered, the shield was made from wood five inches thick so whatever shattered it had to possess unusual strength, Hannaford check it over noting every little detail the turned to Manly. "What do you make of this?" he asked. Manly mimicked the larger man looking closely at the bits of wood surrounding them, "Looks like somebody wanted to break into the hold" he replied.

The inspector puffed on his smoke as he pondered his subordinates answer then he took the ever-present cigar out of his mouth, "this hatch was broken out from the inside, someone or something was trying to get out not in and whatever it was it was big." Hannaford leaned over the edge of the broken portal and he was struck with a foul odor rising and filling his nostrils causing him to pull back his head, a moment later the same noxious aroma hit home with Manly. "In God's name what is that?" the little man said and this time his voice squeaked like a mouse.

Recovered from the stench the inspector smiled at his companion, "that's what we're going to find out".

"Maybe its rotten cargo in the hold?" Manly said hoping to impress his superior.

"Maybe" the inspector replied gruffly.

Leading the way Hannaford moved to the door leading into the ship, opened it and walked down into the darkness, the inspector was armed of course for only a fool would walk the dangerous streets of the Barbary Coast without a weapon of some kind or another, Hannaford favored a colt frontier six shooter and kept it hidden under his heavy coat and now he rested his thick hand on its ivory hilt as he carefully scanned the dimly lit lower deck for any sign of danger, but like the deck above everything seemed undisturbed and except for a ghastly smell it would have been unremarkable.

"See if you can find a lamp to light" the inspector asked. Being a dutiful subordinate Manly quickly found what he was looking for and after a few moments the chamber was awash in a warm glow, with the new light more details of the room came into view, there was a long timber table set with two wooden benches in the center and that caught the eye of Hannaford not for the fact that it was there for anyone could clearly see it was bolted to the floor, No, what caught the big man's interest was the fact that it was laid out with a large amount of food and drink. There were platters of meat and cheese, bread and fruit, all the things needed for a proper feast, pewter goblets filled with rum and it was then that Hannaford felt that something was defiantly wrong for what kind of sailor would walk away from drink?

Once again, the foul odor rose up and Manly rotated his head away feeling he was about to retch but he regained his composer and turned back to the man in charge, "maybe we should come back with more men?" the little man said.

This made Hannaford smile, "don't worry I'll protect you" it wasn't meant as an insult for the big man actually cared a great deal about his comrade because he once had a younger brother but lost him when they were serving in the Texas rangers, now Manly filled that empty place in his heart but he would never admit that to anyone, and that was too bad for Manly looked upon the big man as an older brother.

Hannaford left everything were it lay and made his way down a stairway following the pungent smell, the lower deck was mostly empty except for wooden boxes, barrels and rolled up hammocks that served as bedding for the now missing crew, seeing that there was nothing unusual the inspector headed for the cargo hold, down another set of steps the policemen went and with each step the distressing odor rose in intensity then when the lamp they carried illuminated the darken chamber they saw just what was responsible for the horrid smell.

The cargo hold was filled with rats, there must have been hundreds of the furry creatures, they scurried about crawling over each other and emitting high pitched squeaks as they jockeyed for the best scrapes of food, for laying all around were bits of raw meat, but not just any sort of beef or fish that one might find in any butcher shop along main street, no, this feast was human. Sections of arms and legs, ripped torsos and heads lay on the rough wooden decking and everywhere were splattering's of blood.

Hannaford fought down the gagging bile that threatened to spray from his mouth but Manly was not so fortunate and turning his head he vomited up the contents of his stomach staining his coat, the inspector took several long pulls on his cigar to wash away the foul taste in his mouth then proceeded down the remaining stairs to the vermin infested hold. The hungry rats beat a hasty retreat as the humans took over their blood-stained abode but they watch from the shadows with glowing red eyes ready to resume their devouring once they were alone.

The inspector gazed about the room for a moment then focused on a large metal cage sitting in the center of the room, it was illuminated by a shaft of moonlight beaming in from the broken opening above and wanting to see a closer view the big man moved forward. Hannaford stepped gingerly over the severed body parts followed by Manly and once they came to the center of the room the inspector looked over the iron enclosure that had caught his interest, it was approximately fifteen feet long and the same in height, it was stoutly made with heavy iron bars and bolted together with great care, there was no door or opening that he could see but that didn't matter to whatever it held for one side of the cage's bars were bent and broken leaving a gaping hole big enough for a small elephant to exit, Hannaford reached out and touched one of the twisted bars as if making sure that it wasn't some kind of trick and that they were truly made of heavy iron and indeed they were, each bar was as thick as two of his fingers yet they were busted out like they were noting.

The foul air and bloody carnage were beginning to take it's toil on Manly and knowing he would never admit it the inspector came to his rescue, "it's getting a bit thick in here what say we go get some fresh air?" Manly nodded his head in approval and started for the stairway followed by the big man then something caught Hannaford's eye and bending down he picked up something in his large hand, a flower, but not just any flower this was an orchid but unlike others of that rare and lovely blossom this one had petals black as a ravens wing, it was beautiful in spite of the dropping of blood that marred its perfection, the inspector looked at it for moment then put it into his coat pocket and followed the small man up the worn stairs.

Standing on the foredeck once more Hannaford and Manly took in lungsful of the clean night air.

"I want you to go back to the station and report everything we've seen" The inspector said, "and find out everything you can about this ship".

"What about you?" Manly asked. "I have something pressing to attend too" he replied.

Happy to get away from the death ship the little man quickly made his way down the gangplank followed by Hannaford a minute later, the big man passed by one of the policemen guarding the ship. "Make sure no one goes on board understand?" he said to a patrolman he knew he could trust. "Yes sir!" the man replied snapping to attention. Satisfied that his orders would be carried out Hannaford walked back up the long pier and into the shadows.

The "Pressing matter" the inspector had to attend to was acquiring a stiff drink not because he needed it to steady his nerves after witnessing the slaughter aboard the cargo ship he just thought better with a glass in his hand, and there was just one establishment where he knew he could find exactly what he wanted a converted warehouse called the Golden Peacock, it was a gathering place for all sorts, gamblers and dealers in rare goods, smugglers, thieves and criminals came there seeking information for their next enterprise or to fence goods that had already been stolen and if you were looking for a warm body to hold it could supply you with an endless array of exotic beauties to choose from.

As Hannaford cut down a darken ally littered with cast off wooden boxes and barrels a figure sprang up in front of him, it was a man, short of stature wearing a dark tunic with a red bandana around his close shaven head.

"Wah Ching" the big man said recognizing the trademark attire, "shouldn't you be peddling opium rather than annoying me?" The little man looked him up and down before he spoke, "you dragon, stay far from ship".

His words were thick with an oriental accent but they were plain enough to the inspector, "What has the Wah Ching to do with the death of those men?" he asked puffing hard on what remained of his cheap cigar. The Chinese man took a step forward, "stay faraway" he said and added to his demand by drawing out a small hatchet that he had hidden inside his shirt.

Hannaford wasn't frightened by this sign of bravado because he knew he would draw his pistol and bring him down before his crude weapon could do any damage, but then the little man raised his hand and he was immediately joined by five other members of the Wah Ching tong that had been hiding in the shadows and they were armed with pistols.

Hannaford had never run from a fight and he wasn't going to start now so tossing away the stump of his smoke and drawing out his gun he waited for whatever would come next. He expected to die but he lived with that hanging over his head for many years, so he faced the end without regret.

"Come and get it!" he said with a smile. "Wah Ching!" the leader shouted and raced forward swinging his ax.

Suddenly a tall man appeared out of nowhere holding a gun in one hand and a long sword in the other.

Facing two men wasn't what the dark dressed gang had expected but they were still confident they could come out the victors so their leader lifted his ax, shouted loudly and the battle commenced.

Hannaford brought down one of the attackers with a well-placed shot to the head as did the man at his side then they both ducked behind boxes and barrels and continued to blast away with their handguns, the Wah Ching returned fire but their aim was erratic and they only succeeded in putting bullet holes through wood and seeing that their situation was hopeless they gathered up their dead and fled into the darkness.

The inspector waited for a few moments to make sure it wasn't some kind of trick to lure them out of hiding and taking his bowler he held it up with his pistol to see if they were truly gone and with no holes in his hat he placed it back on his head, Hannaford stood up and turned to the man beside him still holding his gun for he didn't know if he was a friend or just a thief in the night, Hannaford quickly looked him up and down, he wore a wide brimmed hat and a long dark coat, the hat was pulled low over his aspect but the big man could still make out a pale face with a scar on one cheek, his hair was white and his dark eyes looked right at him as if trying to see into his soul.

"Thanks" Hannaford said still gripping his pistol. "You're welcome" replied the tall man his hands filled with weapons.

Neither man knew what to do next but after an awkward silence the inspector spoke, "we can stand here waiting for one of us to kill the other or we can have a drink which would you prefer?"

"Kentucky whisky" the tall man replied.

Satisfied the two men put away their weapons and walked side by side to the Golden Peacock.

The Golden Peacock was rather empty this night as the tall man and the inspector entered its colorful confines, the walls were painted in red, yellow and blue geometric designs with gold leaf idols and carved dragons everywhere, the air was heavy with smoke and the scent of opium mixed with the exotic perfumes of the many prostitutes that frequented the place, rich Chinese merchants played mahjong endlessly and won and lost fortunes over the course of a night, sailors fresh off their ships were eager to throw away their pay in fair skinned ladies and watered down drinks.

Hannaford led his new companion to a table in the back a place he often sat for it gave him a clear view of the chamber and no enemy could sneak up from behind, the pair seated themselves and immediately a man came to take their orders.

"Two whiskeys" then Hannaford saw the look in the man's face who sat opposite him, "Kentucky whiskey if you have it" he added.

The man quickly left, and the inspector waited for the tall man to speak but he didn't, "when I buy a man a drink I'd like to know his name".

"My name is Salem Strom" the tall man answered. Hannaford had heard the name before but he didn't believe any of the fantastic stories that accompanied it, a person coming back from the dead? Poppycock, but here he was sitting across from a man who fit his description right down to the brand on his face.

"Salem Strom" the inspector said as he took out a fresh cigar and lit it, "Salem Strom, the dead man?"

"My name is Salem nothing more" Strom said.

Hannaford took a long draft off his cigar and slowly blew out the smoke, "so tell me Mr. Strom why did you come to my rescue back there?"

"You were outnumbered" Salem said shrugging his wide shoulders, "if I hadn't come to your aide you'd have died". "Perhaps" Hannaford replied, "but I'm not a man who dies easily". "Nether am I" replied Salem.

Suddenly the floor began to shake but it only lasted for a few seconds then faded away, Hannaford turned to his new friend who seemed a bit concerned.

"Earthquake" he said with a smile, "we get them all the time".

The stronghold of the Wah Ching tong lay in the center of China Town, from the outside it looked like any other business establishment dealing in oriental objects and rare herbs but that was only a facade to hide the fact that one of the most powerful men in all San Francisco dwelled there.

Inside the structure were a maze of rooms and corridors some filled with valuable goods and others with the precious opium powder that was the basis of the Wah Ching's power, along with that addictive substance they were dealers in human flesh for every prostitute who plied their wears in the Barbary Coast paid a tribute to the Tong or they would soon be dead.

If you managed to slip by the many Boo How Doy or soldiers guarding the entrance and found your way down into the heart of the stronghold you would find yourself in a great room decorated like a palace and filled with rare objects brought across the dangerous ocean from the far east, dark clothed minions went about their many duties as half naked females were ready to entertain. At the center of the room trusted hatchet men stood guard around the old man who controlled it all.

Woo Young Ching was the patriarch of the Wan Ching tong, he had inherited that title from his father who started the criminal empire long ago in Shanghai, he wasn't a cruel man, but his long years had taught him the power of fear and he used it to rule those under him with an iron hand. His withered frame sat on a large silken pillow that rested upon the seat of an ornate carved chair in the shape of a dragon, his skull like face was covered in a million wrinkles, with a long wispy white beard and drooping mustache. He concealed his skeleton frame in a magnificent embroidered robe that any emperor would have been more than pleased to wear but at this moment Woo Young was not content and his cold narrow eyes focused on the cause of his discomfort.

"Why did you not kill him when you had the chance?" the old man said pointing an abnormally long fingernail at the man in front of him,

Before him stood the very same individual that had confronted inspector Hannaford in the alleyway, his pigtailed head hung low for he knew that he had failed in his task, "Dragon not alone" he stammered trying his best to defend himself. "You know what happens to those who fail me?" Woo Young asked all the while knowing the answer. The man said nothing for no words could save him now so he just stood there trembling with fear as others in the room watched him and prayed that they would never fail in their duties. Woo Young watched the pathetic man for a few moments then nodding his withered head two strongly built henchmen ceased the man and drug him off to a horrible fate, after a few moments he turned his fading eyesight to another of his followers and motioned for him to come forward, the man did as he was ordered and waited silently.

"Find the Dragon, kill him, and do not fail me" the old man said.

Bowing deeply the man quickly left the room, Woo Young sat there for a time then slowly rose and followed by two husky guards carrying swords he walked out of the room and down a long dimly lit corridor until he came to a thick wooden door, he waited until one of them drew back the heavy iron bolt securing the portal and opened it, he went inside alone.

The room was small and without decorations, the walls were stone with only a small opening to let in air and a bit of light, at the center of the darken room was a dais bathed in moonlight also made of stone and sitting on it cross-legged was a young oriental girl singing a dark eerie song that chilled what was left of the old man's soul. She was a slip of a woman with dark hair almost the length of her frame set with a black lotus flower. She was naked and her body was covered in hundreds of colorful tattoo's, they ran from her neck to her feet, mystic symbols, strange animals of the air, land and sea, flowers, sun's, planets and moons all gathered together in a riot of needled imagination, her face was angelic with ebony eyes and a rosebud mouth, she wore no ornamentation other than a thick chain a few feet long around her slim neck and bolted into the center stone and a black lotus flower set into her silken locks. Woo Young walked to a small niche cut into the stone wall and lifted out an ornate gold box and held it in his wrinkled hands, he carefully approached the girl and ending her compelling song she lifted her head and waited for the old man to speak.

Woo Young raised the golden box in front of him, the girl rose up and walked towards him until the chain around her neck prevented her from coming any closer, she stood there waiting. "On your knees" the old man said.

And obeying his command the girl fell to the floor and bowed her head.

"You are my slave and I am your master" Woo Young spoke.

"I am you slave and you are my master" the girl repeated keeping her face to the ground. "Find what is mine and bring it back to me" the old man said. "Kill all who stand in your way". "Yes my master" the tattooed girl replied.

The hour was growing late at the Golden Peacock as Salem and Hannaford continued their talk but the inspector could find out little about the man who had saved his life other than the fact that he was found of whiskey and newly arrived in San Francisco after traveling a long way to reach there, and this annoyed the big man because he sensed there was more to the fellow then he let on but he owed him his life so he didn't press the matter.

"Where will you be going once you leave the bay?" Hannaford asked lighting up yet another cigar. "I'm not sure" Salem replied as he emptied his glass.

Hannaford next question was cut sort for he saw a dozen Wah Ching enter through the front door, they stood there for a moment scanning the room then their leader saw what he was looking for.

"We have company" the inspector said as he drew out his pistol and checked to make sure it was fully loaded. Salem didn't need to turn his head for he trusted his drinking companion to warn him of danger so he took his pistol from its holster with one hand and grasp the handle of his sword with the other.

The man who led the dark dressed Tong knew that if he failed his life would be worthless so with nothing to lose he drew out a pistol from his clothing.

"Wah Ching!" he yelled and the battle began.

Bullets flew like angry bees as patrons scrambled for cover or fled screaming into night, Salem and Hannaford fired back dodging hot lead as they overturned their table making a shield of heavy wood. The two men fired again and again and when of them found his gun empty the other gave his cover to reload, the Wah Ching tried their best to pick off their enemy but whenever they thought they had them a well-placed shot sent another of them to the now blood-stained floor. At last Salem and Hannaford ran out of ammunition and seeing that they would soon be over run the inspector turned to the man next to him.

"So, how did you like your whiskey? He asked.

"It wasn't from Kentucky" Salem replied smiling then he stood up and ran towards what remained of the Tong, Hannaford watched his reckless behavior and knowing that he would die fighting he picked up a heavy chair and raced forward, the Wah Ching were caught off guard by the suicidal actions of their enemy and only had time for one volley of shots before the two men were upon them. Salem's sword cut right and left leaving a man screaming in pain or dead while Hannaford's makeshift weapon crushed in heads and splintered bones, then tossing away the broken chair the inspector used his iron fists to shatter jawbones and break ribs, fighting at close quarters the Tong members pulled out small hatchets and tried to cleave in the skulls of their opponents but they only managed to ruin the inspectors bowler and inflict a few minor wounds before a fist or sword ended their fight, the contest lasted only a few minutes but to those involved it seemed like forever and in the end Salem and Hannaford stood victorious as the last few members of the Wah Ching went down, they fought to the last man knowing that if they returned to their master defeated they would suffer a far ghastlier fate.

Salem was breathing hard as he stood surrounded by fallen foes, his clothes were torn and splattered with blood as was his sword, beside him stood Hannaford bleeding from cuts to his face and body and a bullet wound that grazed his thick arm.

"Looks like we're still alive" the big man said. Salem didn't reply as he wiped the blood from his blade and returned it to the leather scabbard hanging from his belt, nearby lay his hat that had come off in the battle and picking it up he adjusted it on his head.

The patrons of the Golden Peacock that hid from the slaughter slowly emerged from their hiding places and began rummaging through the black clothing of the dead Tong members hoping to find something of value that might repay them for the years of fear they had felt at the violent hands of the Wah Ching and seeing it was an opportune time to leave Hannaford and Salem left the ornate saloon knowing that they would never be blamed for the carnage they left behind.

The owner of the Peacock watched them go but as they passed him by he uttered an ancient Chinese curse but there was another who also saw them leave that went unnoticed.

The two men walked a few blocks down the street then stopped near an alleyway.

"Your coat is ripped" Salem said noticing the bullet wound on the big man's arm.

"So is yours" Hannaford replied, "but at least we got out with what's left of our skins". "Who were those men?" Strom asked. "They were members of the Wah Ching tong" Hannaford replied, "It seems I've been looking where I shouldn't".

"And just where is that?" Now it was the inspector's time to withhold the truth, "it's getting late so I'll say goodnight" he said smiling "maybe we'll meet again?"

"Yes" Salem replied, "And this time I'll buy you some real Kentucky whiskey".

"Sure" the inspector said searching his pockets for a cigar but finding only a broken remnant, "Dam, that my last cigar", he began to walk away and as he did he reached into his pocket and took out the black lotus blossom he had put there, it was a little crushed but as Hannaford looked at it he couldn't shake the feeling that this was something important.

Strom watched his companion go then turned and made his way down the alley but he took only a few steps when he stopped in his tracks, there was nothing wrong that he could see but something told him that he was being watched and it wasn't by some stray cat or orphaned dog, Salem was a man who returned from the dead, his soul had spent time in that dark void that lays between the living and the dead and when he returned to this world he brought back with him a power that only those like him possessed, the power to know when evil was near.

"Who's there?" Salem said putting his hand on his sword, but he received no reply only silence broken by a gust of cold wind from the bay and he was about to continue forward when a figure slowly emerged from the darkness.

At first Strom thought his mind was playing tricks on him for the image was blurred and seemed to come right out of the wall, he shook his head thinking that the nights drinking had finally taken its toll then as he focused his eyes he saw a young woman standing before him. She was naked with her slim body covered in tattoo's, her face was beautiful with dark eyes and red lips, her long dark hair was set in a braid that reached almost to the ground, and over her left hear was a dark flower. Instinctively Salem drew his sword, "who are you?" he asked.

The young girl moved towards Strom seemingly unafraid of the deadly weapon he held in his hand, she moved close enough to look into the man's eyes.

"I am Fawn Sue," she said calmly, "and I am cursed like you".

"How do you know who I am?" Salem asked never lowering his blade.

The girl moved even closer, "go and rest, you will need all your strength if you are to free me", then she slowly moved back into the shadows and disappeared.

Salem waited for a moment then moved to where he thought she would be but found nobody in the darkness and seeing that there was nothing more to be done he continued making his way home.

It was late in the afternoon with Hannaford heard a pounding at the door of the cheap boarding house that served as his home when he wasn't working.

"Hello?" the voice outside the door shouted, "It's me Manly, are you okay inspector?" those words were followed by more pounding and lifting his aching head Hannaford called out to his tormentor.

"Alright! Just give me a minute", the big man pulled himself from his bed and stumbled to the door still wearing the same ripped and bloodstained clothing from the night before, he pulled back the latch and opened the door. Manly looked his superior up and down, "what happened to you?" he asked wide eyed.

"Nothing" replied the big man, "why do you ask?" Not wanting to delve any deeper into the inspector's private life he lifted up a handful of paper, "I found some information on the ship and something else". "What?" "There's been more killings" Manly said.

Far from the cheap boarding houses of the Barbary Coast, eager newspaper boys were spreading word of the horrible killings along the fashionable streets of Nob Hill, the fancy dressed ladies and gentlemen who made that place their home savored every sordid detail they read.

Salem Strom had slept very little not because of the men he had killed for he knew that it was their lives or his, no, it was the image of the strange girl he had met in the alleyway that kept him awake so after a fitful night he put on fresh clothing, a wide brimmed hat and filling his pistol with ammunition left his hotel heading back to the seedier side of the city. He knew the way for he had been in San Francisco for several weeks living off the gold that he and Grey Wolf had found in the abandoned wagons but he quickly grew tired of the rich food and high nosed ladies and sought out the darker activities that the Barbary Coast was known for and now something pulled at him, a need to walk where others feared, perhaps it was his contact with the mystic blade at his side or maybe it was just his inner need for adventure but whatever it was that moved him he was helpless to resist so as the sun vanished from the sky and the night took hold he found himself once more wandering the dark streets and back alleys of that dangerous place.

Inspector Hannaford was certain that Manly was taking him to the Golden Peacock when he said that there had been more killings but as the sun began to set he was surprised to find himself on a street well known for its opium dens and houses of prostitution, along the way the little man shuffled through papers and told him about the cargo ship and what he had found out.

"The ship is registered to the Far East trading company" Manly said, "but that's just a front for the Wah Ching tong to smuggle in drugs and women", the little man waited with a smile expecting his hard work to be rewarded with a compliment from his superior.

Hannaford had already surmised that the ship was part of the criminal element of the city and who better to own it then the Wah Ching, the wealthiest and most powerful of the Tongs but he knew that Manly had worked hard and he didn't want to spoil his moment of triumph. "Good work" he said. "Thanks" Manly replied with a grin.

Ahead of them was a large group of people trying to press closer to a building that Hannaford knew well, it was a place where you could while your life away by filling your lungs with opium and your head with fantastic dreams, it was the inspectors greatest wish that he could set a torch to this rotten place but the owners knew exactly who to bribe so the foul den remained open.

"Make way!" Manly shouted hoping his voice wouldn't crack.

And seeing who it was the policeman that were holding back the crowed cleared a path to the entrance, Hannaford ignored the many reporters and on lookers who called out for information on just what had occurred and he and Manly went inside.

It was your typical opium house with an entrance leading to a back room where people were drained of money and then their lives, the inspector moved quickly down the hall and into a dark room with a high vaulted ceiling that stank of the life sucking odor of the poppy. For once Hannaford was glad that the lingering effects of the hellish plant were still in the room for the floor was covered in blood splattered bodies, ripped and torn just like those aboard the cargo ship, there were dozens of them but he couldn't be sure for many of them were only limbs and torso's with the occasional severed head laying like a sliced melon on the ornate rug covered floor.

Hannaford lite a cigar, drew in a deep lungful of smoke and waited till his stomach settled then he began looking over the body parts, Manly, steeled himself and followed close behind trying not to step in any pools of blood or trip over a dismembered arm or leg. The inspector quickly saw that this must have been done by the same maniac who reeked such havoc on the sailors, for gold and silver coins lay about along with massive amounts of the evil white powder that could easily fetch a good price anywhere on the Barbary Coast.

Having been born in Texas the inspector had a good knowledge of tracking and looking down he saw a footprint that baffled him, at first he thought it was a bear and that would have solved the killing for they were a dangerous animal with claws and teeth that could rip a man to shreds but has he looked closer he knew that this bloody imprint wasn't from that species, it was three times the size of that huge mammal and resembled a humans except for the long toes ending in claws. Hannaford studied them for a moment, then following the tracks he moved ahead like a freight train bellowing smoke as he puffed on his cigar until he came to the back of the room, but instead of a solid brick wall he found a large opening approximately ten feet tall and as much in width, it had been broken from the outside in and hanging from one of the broken bricks was a mass of coarse black hair, the inspector rolled it between his thick fingers and put it in his pocket then poking his large head through the broken brick he saw an alleyway with a recently made hole leading down into the earth. Still following the bloody tracks he made his way through the jagged opening and walked the few steps to the opening and looked down, he saw only darkness but the smell was unmistakable, the sewer.

Salem passed by many people as he went up one street and down the other but none of them matched the description of the tattooed girl, he was beginning to think that he had imagined the whole thing when he turned down a darken street and was suddenly confronted by the very soul he was seeking, like before she appeared out of nowhere, first there was nothing then there was?

Startled Salem put his hand on his sword hilt then seeing the naked girl he didn't draw it out, like before Fawn Sue moved close to him and looked him in the eyes.

"Your sword will be useless against me" she said softly, "even with its great power". Salem turned his head to one side, "maybe we should test that theory?" Strom said slowly pulling out his sword.

The girl spread her arms exposing her bare chest and firm breasts, "Strike if you wish but your blade will not find my heart".

Salem gripped the hilt of his weapon pondering whether to plunge it into her chest but looking into her eyes he returned it to his side.

"What do you want with me? Strom asked "As I said I wish you to free me" she replied. "But you just said that I can't hurt you".

"All will be made clear, but you must trust me" she said, "if you don't many more will die".

There was no earthly reason why Salem should do as the girl asked but as before something pulled him to her and ignoring his better judgment he nodded his head.

"Where are we going?" He asked. "To the very gates of hell" she replied.

Hannaford was a brave man to be sure but he was no fool and therefor he took several heavily armed men with him as he climbed down the rope ladder that lead into the sewer, Manly followed him holding a torch in one hand and a small revolver in the other, and he was soon joined by stalwart policemen each armed with a repeating rifle and sidearm.

The sewer was over ten feet high and as much wide, it was constructed of brick and mortar and was the pride of San Francisco for very few cities had such a luxury most other simply ran their sewage into the street and left it for others to worry about.

"Which way?" Manly ask holding his torch high. Three inches of foul water covered the floor of the tunnel erasing any footprints that might have been left by the thing they were pursuing so Hannaford had to rely on his instinct to guide them, that and his ever present cigar for he noticed the smoke slowly wafting its way to the right and that was a good a reason as any to head in that direction.

Salem and Fawn Sue continued their walk through the back alleys of the Barbary Coast they avoided contact with people but as they moved down a narrow causeway a group of men walked towards them, seeing that there was no way out the girl moved against the nearest wall and even though the moonlight was dim it should have been enough to reveal her yet she vanished from view, Salem stood his ground and the men moved past him with only a glace in his direction, after they had passed the girl reemerged from the shadows.

"How did you do that?" Salem asked.

The girl held out her arms, "these markings on my skin, they represent air, wind, earth, water and sky and make me one with my surroundings, now we mush hurry there is very little time left". As a boy Salem had seen a lizard change it color so he asked no more questions and followed the girl once more.

Hannaford and his men trudged their way down the watery tunnel but other than sewer rats and the occasional dead cat they found nothing, but the inspector refused to give up and lumbered forward, his men other than the loyal Manly, began to grumble saying that it was a wild goose chase but a stern glance from Hannaford stopped their complaints and they continued on in silence. The inspector's tenacity paid off for a hundred yards down the damp passageway Hannaford saw a tangle of hair hanging from a root that had penetrated through the mortar, he took out the sample he had taken from the broken wall and compared the two, they matched, whatever had made that hole and footprints had passed this way.

"Check your weapons" Hannaford called out sensing that he was close to his prey.

The men did as they were told and with bullets in chambers they followed their superior.

Hannaford moved slowly now and when his cigar had reached its end he didn't light a new one rather he drew out his pistol and made himself ready for whatever might come, and he didn't have to wait long for when he turned a corner in the sewer causeway a great dark shape suddenly sprang up in front of him, the inspector barely had time to fire off one shot before the monstrous thing struck him like a sledge hammer and sent him flying, he landed hard against the brick wall, instantly the tunnel filled with gunfire as armed men fired again and again at the oncoming monster, but their bullets seemed to have no effect on their horrible attacker and one by one they were torn limb from limb as the monster picked them up like toys, Manly managed to stay clear of the colossal creatures swinging arms and rushed to the aid of his fallen friend and finding life still in him he turned and continued to shoot at the monster that now turned its attention to him.

Manly had been the brunt of many jokes questioning his manhood and bravery but given the chance to run he stood his ground and protected the man he admired until his life was cut short by a blow that struck his head from his body, so he died a hero, but there was no one to witness his end.

Salem followed the tattooed girl as she twisted and turned through the maze of alleyways a corridors of that part of the city, sometimes she seemed to vanish in the shadows only to rematerialize a moment later and with every passing second Strom's patience was growing thinner, at last he could take no more and taking the girl by her slim arm he turned her around and looked into her face.

"Tell me what this is all about or so help me I'll leave you to face whatever demons haunt you!" his voice was harsh.

The girl began to weep and seeing the tears in her eyes Strom slowly let go of her, "not all demons are made from evil, some are trapped by their own weakness and for that others are made to suffer, please trust in me and all will be made clear when the time comes".

Salem's rage subsided, and his words took on a softer meaning, "We all have demons inside us". He said.

The girl smiled weakly, "You have walked beside them many times, I was with you when you fought alongside your friend in the Golden Peacock but you could not see me, you are a brave man and soon that bravery will be tested to its limits, but you must put your trust in me".

Strom didn't know why but he did trust the girl, perhaps he saw a bit of himself in her tormented eyes but whatever the reason he would do as she asked, a least for now.

Woo Young sat in his ornate chair clutching the golden box that he had paid such a high price for, his withered hands shook with fear for he knew what powerful forces he had summoned up, around him in the palace room stood every member of the Boo How Doy armed to the teeth with swords, guns and knives but this show of force didn't make the ancient man feel any safer and his emaciated face was frozen in fear, Woo Young's claw like finger gently stroked the etched lid of the box and looking down he wondered how many other powerful men had held it, emperors, kings, holy men? And what happened to them? In the end they all died but the old man didn't care it was said that power is a golden cup that can never be filled but Woo Young would drink deep while breath was still in him.

Strom and the girl continued walking for a time more, then Fawn Sue led Salem from the shadowy corridors and into a street at the center of China Town. The thoroughfare was empty for word of the horrible killings had spread into every dark corner of that part of the city and no one dared leave the relative safety of their humble abodes.

Salem drew his blade and looked up at the night sky and noticed that the full moon had taken on a red glow, a "Hunters Moon" they use to call it back home and the eerie light it gave out only added to the strangeness of the surroundings.

"Stay close to me and you will not be harmed" the girl said, and she led him to the middle of the avenue and raising her hands to the night sky she began to sing, her voice was soft and alluring but filled with pain and suffering, Salem didn't believe in heaven but if he had this would be the sound of angels weeping, he couldn't understand her words but somehow he knew she spoke of the earth and stars and oceans of time, he slowly lowered his blade transfixed by the melancholy singing and all his strength drained from his arm, then the song began to change, it no longer echoed of life and suffering it spoke of death and revenge! The ground beneath Salem's feet began to shake and he was hard pressed to maintain his balance and with every passing second the shaking grew more intense and still Fawn Sue continued to sing.

Woo Yong's fear had turned to terror as the palace room began to crumble around him, the heavy beams supporting the brightly painted roof cracked and carved panels fell crashing to the floor, slaves and minions screamed it terror and ran about seeking protection only to find there was no escape from the massive earthquake.

"Take me to safety!" Woo Young screamed fearing for his life and moments later four strong men lifted his ornate dragon chair and ran for the door with all that remained of his henchmen following close behind, Woo Young screamed at his minions promising untold misery if any harm came to his illustrious self and trusting that it would inspire fear in them but the terror that the old man felt was far beyond any punishment that a mere mortal could conjure up.

Salem instinct was to run as any man would facing such terror, but he stayed close to the tattooed girl as the street began to crack and fissures spread out from them like a spiders web, Fag Loo Sue's mesmerizing singing grew louder until Salem thought his ears would burst but still he held his ground, through the pain he managed to see hundreds of people making their way into the street as the buildings around them began to tumble from the violent shaking of the ground it was then he noticed an old man being carried in an ornate wooden chair surrounded by large darkly dressed men with red bandana's around their heads.

"Wah Ching" Salem muttered to himself and knowing it was the same gang that attacked him and Hannaford he turned to face them despite the shaking ground and the suffering in his ears.

Woo Young's eyes were weak but he could still make out his mystical slave standing in the street and hearing her sing filled his tired heart with fear and rage, "Stop Her!" he screamed and heeding his words his hatchet men obeyed.

Bullets whizzed pass Salem's ears as he drew out his pistol to return fire but before he could the ground close to him rose up and tossed him and the girl through the air like paper dolls, what happened next was told and retold by those that survived that horrible night. The ground lifted up and out of the portal left by the broken earth a creature of legend emerged, its name was Yaoguai, demon animal.

Salem gazed at the monster in disbelief for this thing could only be conjured up by the demented dreams of a madman, it stood almost ten feet tall and resembled a man but with the head of a misshapen bull with long twisting horns and the jaws of a lion, its huge torso was covered in scaly plating like a dragon's but its arms were long and covered in fur similar to an ape with claws on its fingers the length of a stout knife, it stood upright on massive feet as it looked about with eyes filled with rage, it reared there for a moment as bullets rebounded off its armored body then lifting its massive head it let out a long bellowing roar!

Men began to run but it was too late, the hideous monster chased them down and butchered them with teeth and claw as they screamed in agony, those that weren't killed outright died from limbs ripped from their bodies or loss of blood, the beast killed without mercy revealing in the carnage and the howls of its victims, some men unable to bear the site of what they saw dropped their weapons and stood babbling with bloody foam dripping from slack lips, their minds gone from the ghastly events taking place before their very eyes.

Salem and the girl where shaken but unhurt when they were lifted into the air and now they rose up to face whatever might come, many of the guards saw them and evading the terrifying monster they drew their weapons and shouting to bolster their courage they raced forward.

Strom emptied his pistol taking down several of the oncoming men then brandishing his sword he placed himself between the girl wishing to protector but Fawn Sue needed no one to fight for her, she quickly took the long knife from Salem's belt and leaping high into the air she landed in the center of the henchmen and striking like an angry cobra she killed one after another, the hatchet men tried to fight back but they struck only empty air as Fawn Sue danced in the air like a leaf in the wind and seeing that the girl needed no help Salem was free to use his sword and use it he did blocking blades that would have cut off his head and returning blows that severed limbs. Soon the street was awash with blood and dead bodies leaving only a tall man and a tattooed girl standing alone.

The henchmen defending Woo Young emptied their rifles and drawing their swords they battled the creature but it was useless and they all died screaming leaving the old man alone and helpless.

Woo Young sat their looking into the eyes of the monster as blood dripped from his jaws and the air was filled with its foul breath, what thoughts went through his head only he would know but a wise man would have prayed for a quick death but there was still some power left in his wasted body and lifting his hands he held out the golden box.

Salem saw the old man confronting the monster, he waited for the creature to do to him what he had done to all the rest, but then a strange thing happened, the beast dropped its horned head and slowly moved back from the old man ending its reign of terror and seeing he wouldn't die Woo Young rose up and walked towards where the girl and the tall man stood.

As he drew nearer Fawn Sue turned to the man at her side, "Trust me" she whispered and dropping the blood-spattered knife she slowly walked to meet the man who made her his slave.

"You have betrayed me" the old man said as he stood close to the girl, "and for that you will suffer" and he held out the golden box.

Fawn Sue's body began to tremble and her face contorted as she was battling some overpowering force deep inside her, her knees weakened and seeing this the old man smiled. "You are my slave forever" he said.

The girl stood there shaking and blood began to drip from the corner of her mouth, but she refused to bow before her master, it was then that she began pulling herself up and steadied her legs, the trembling stopped, and she opened her eyes, whatever terrible forces raged inside her were now gone and she remained the victor.

"I will no longer be your slave" Fawn Sue said defiantly, "this man has come to save me and knowing that, I will no longer serve", and she turned to Salem who

stood near her, "this man will save me". This made the old man laugh, "Who is he? A mortal man like all the rest, he is just a whisper in the winds of time".

The tattooed girl smiled at Salem, "show him what you hold in your hand".

Salem lifted the mystic blade and seeing it the old man began to tremble, "this cannot be!" he exclaimed dropping the golden box from his shaking hands and when he did the terrible monster that had stood so silently let out a thunderous roar and swinging its clawed hand it ripped the head off the old man's body sending up a shower of blood, the withered head fell to the ground and the mouth opened and closed in some ghastly attempt to speak, then the eyes rolled back and Woo Young the head of now extinct Wah Ching Tong entered the land of his ancestors.

Salem afraid for his life gripped his sword and prepared to fight the creature but Fawn Sue lifted her hand, "Stop! He will not harm you" she cried but seeing the fear in Strom's eyes she moved close to him, "you said you would trust me, lower your blade and you will not be harmed".

It was the hardest thing Salem ever did, for he would rather die fighting than stand defenseless as the monster tore his heart out but in the end he did as she asked and returned his sword to his side.

The tattooed girl smiled at him, "I told you that all would be revealed and now that time has come, five hundred years ago I was promised to the temple of Hu Tu the goddess of the earth and taught to sing her song but I fell in love with a young man and for that transgression he was transformed into the creature you see before you and I was made his keeper and for many lifetimes we were passed from one person to another and forced obeyed emperor and commoner alike, whoever possessed the golden container was our master, then the box was purchased by Woo Young and we sailed across the sea in the belly of a ship all the while I sang my song to keep the creature at bay, we arrived but when the sailors who brought us here celebrated they grew drunk and tried to force themselves on me and that drove the beast wild, he broke free and killed them all then escaped but I was forced by the power of the box to return to my master who know lays dead".

Salem pondered her fantastic tale and if it wasn't for the creature standing under the stars he would have cast it aside as a myth but there was no denying his own eyes, "then you are free now?" he asked. The girl shook her head, "No, there is still one thing that must be done", she moved to where the golden box lay and picking it up the girl held it out to Salem, "open it for I cannot". Salem took the strange box and lifting its lid he looked inside, there laying on a bed of silk was a small beating mass of flesh!

"It is my heart" the girl said softly, "I cannot die unless my heart dies first, nothing can harm it except for the sword that hangs at your side, draw it out, cut my heart in two and I and the man I loved will be set free".

Salem looked into her eyes and saw that they were filled with tears so taking out his sword he took the heart from the box and tossing it in the air he cut it in two with one clean stroke, the two halves struck the ground and shattered like glass. There was a thunderclap even though there were no clouds in the sky and looking up Salem saw the moon turn a deep red and the stars suddenly burn with a new light, he watched as the monster began to change its shape, the huge chimera body dwindled and shrank as the tangled fur and impenetrable plating fell away, the monstrous head contorted and dissolved until only the face of a handsome young man remained in its place.

Fawn Sue ran into the man's arms in an embrace that had waited five hundred years, she kissed him gently on the lips and as she did their naked bodies were engulfed in a shimmering red fire that grew more intense with each second until their images were obscured by brilliance, the pillar of fire rose up and began to swirl like a tornado until it was a ball of blazing light, then it rose into the night sky like a shooting star until it vanished from into the sea of stars.

Silence returned to the streets of China town as Salem looked up at the Hunters Moon wondering if he might be mistaken and there really was an afterlife.

Three days later a sore but alive Hannaford sat in the back of the newly restored Golden Peacock sipping wine and puffing on his cigar, his mind was filled with images of the past few days, the rumors of a monster in China town was dismissed as an hallucination brought on by opium and the dead were the results of the ongoing feuds of the Tongs and that sat well with the inspector for who would have believed otherwise? But what really troubled the bid man was how he had to lay to rest his friend, the inspector didn't think of himself as an emotional man on the contrary, he viewed his life as a model of logic and strength but right now he would have given anything to see Manley's face and hear his high pitched voice.

"May I join you" a voice said and looking up passed the rim of his bowler hat he saw Salem standing there dressed in his finest.

"Yes of course" the big man said, "sorry I didn't recognize you sooner I was thinking of..." but he didn't finish the sentence and looked back into his half empty glass. Salem sat down and waited for his friend to speak but seeing that he was lost in thought he spoke first, "I'm leaving soon but I wanted to buy you one last drink", he said. "Kentucky whiskey?" the big man asked with a smile.

"Sure" Salem replied.

Hannaford had been skeptical of the stories that he had heard about the man who sat across from him but the events of the past few days made him rethink his beliefs, "you really are Salem Strom the dead man aren't you?"

Strom nodded his head, "yes, but I prefer just Salem if you don't mind?"

This brought a smile to the big man's face, "you're a good man Salem and I hate to see you go, it's a pity you weren't here last year, Old Ben would have loved to meet you".

Hearing the name "Old Ben" the man who cursed him made Salem eager to hear more, "You knew him?" he asked.

Hannaford took a sip of his drink, "he use to have a small shop down the street, people believed he could cure what ailed them and some even said that he could bring back the dead from....." the inspector stopped talking when he saw the look in Strom's eyes, "you've already met him I take it?" "Do you know where he is now?" Salem asked. "Last I heard he boarded a ship heading west, said he was going home where ever that may be", Hannaford replied.

Salem stood up and placed a gold coin on the table, "I'm sorry I can't share that whiskey with you, I have to go".

The big man rose up and put out his hand, "it was a pleasure to meet you", he said.

They shook hands and then parted, Hannaford sat down and after a time he reached into his pocket and drew out what remained of the black lotus he picked up on the cargo ship, he looked at it for a long time wondering if he would ever solve its dark mystery.
Chapter Seven.

The Promise of the Sea.

Salem left the dark intrigues of San Francisco for the clean open air and rolling blue waves of the Pacific Ocean, he booked passage on the first ship heading out of port a three mast clipper ship christened the Venture that was heading for Singapore with a stopover in Hawaii and the thought of half-naked native girls and peaceful sunshine would be a welcomed relief from the cold nights and shadowy demons that followed him now. That sturdy ship rocked back and forth in a heavy storm that seemed to spring out of nowhere but those below deck paid little heed to the forces of nature as they swapped stories of their dubious adventures.

"You tell one whopping good yarn" said the burly first mate who went by the name McCrae as he lifted his dented mug of sour beer, "but I never put much stock in magicians", then he took a long draft, wiped the bubbling foam from his bearded face then set the dented tankard down on the hardwood table that sat in the center of the crews quarters. The man who had told the tale was tall and pale of skin with a scar on his cheek and although he had paid a good price for a first class cabin he preferred the honest friendship of the seasoned crew rather than the pompous patrons that shared his status.

"Believe what you like" Salem said with a wry smile taking a deep draft from his stein, he would have preferred Kentucky whiskey but that was in short supply so he made himself content with the aged brew. "I" the first mate smiled, "a lie or the truth doesn't matter much to me, strong drink, strong winds and a lusty woman is all that any man needs".

"The man speaks the truth" another sailor added, "I wish for a woman that would love the sea and never leave me".

This brought a round of approval from the men in the crews quarters as they banged their pewter mugs on hard wood and nodded their shaggy heads, they hailed from all the points of the compass, broad shouldered red headed men from Ireland, tall blond tasseled men of the sea from Norway, swarthy dark skinned adventures from the middle east and many others who didn't know their father or what land to call their own, one thing was certain they all lived on the water and the smell of salt air was like the flowers in spring and none would have traded their hard days and nights for a life of comfort on the dry land.

"Let's drink to those beautiful ladies who love the sea!" the first mate called out lifting his drinking mug, before his parched lips could savor the thick beer waiting for him a voice called out from the far corner of the rocking hold. "I wouldn't lift my cup so fast if I was you" the voice said. The first mate's eyes turned to a grizzled old man half hidden in the shadows of the hold, it was old Wilson, the ships cook, a timeworn sailor who didn't mix well with the others on the many ships he crewed on but he could make a decent soup so they let him be, he hardly talked to anyone and spent most of his free time looking out over the waves without saying a word. The first mate found it strange that he should pipe up now.

"What's that old man?" McCrae asked, "Are you far too ancient to remember a woman's kiss?" he added with a smile.

A shout of laugher filled the crew quarters as the sailors took sport with their elder brother, they meant no harm in the jest, but the old man didn't seem to recognize that. "Laugh if you will" Wilson said with a scowl moving forward to that all could see his gnarled face, he had a short white beard and piercing blue eyes and one could see from his features that at one time he must have cut quit a handsome figure but the years and the sea had taken their toll on him and a deep sadness seemed to pull at the corners of his mouth. "What do you know, what do any of you know about love" he voice was solemn and filled with remorse, "Love can be deep and dark like the sea filled with horrors that can tear at your soul until you go mad".

"Mad like you old man" one of the crew called out with a laugh.

"Yes you can call me mad if you like" Wilson replied, "but I wasn't always so, once I was like you, young and filled with nothing but what the next day might hold, drinking and whoring without a thought to my soul or what the years ahead may bring, I didn't love anyone or anything save myself and I was content to be that man until...." His voice trailed off and he stood staring into nothing as if he was watching his own sad life pass before his weary eyes.

"Sit down old man" another sailor spoke, "we've had enough of your ramblings".

And several other sailors added their approval to that comment. "Let him speak" Salem suddenly said.

Now this scarred man was looked on with favor by the crew for he was a natural leader and bore a deep strength that everyone felt and someone who could be trusted, but above that there was an air of darkness surrounding him that told you this was someone you didn't argue with so they kept their words to themselves and after a moment the old man began to speak once more.

"I was just a fresh faced boy when left home to find my fortune" Wilson began his story, "I signed up on a ship heading for the south seas and soon found that I had made the right choice, the sea was my home and I wished to sail on her all the days of my life, the ship was a good one and we went from port to port trading goods and filling the hold with spices and wherewithal that would bring a hefty reward when we returned home, but a storm much like this one blew us onto a reef off the coast of Zanzibar and only a hand full of us managed to make it into a life boat before the ship and all with her went down. For many days and nights we drifted without food nor water under the hot sun, how we suffered as we lay begging for water or for death to come and end our misery, then when the first of us died, our cabin boy, a mere lad who never did anyone harm and a possessed cheery face when times were bad. We should have said a kind word before giving him up to the sea but we didn't cast him into the water as any good sailor would do, no we set upon him like ravenous wolves and his young flesh filled our bellies".

No one said a word as the listened to the old man tale of cannibalism and deep inside each sailor they asked the same question, would I do the same? At last the first mate broke the silence.

"We all do things that haunt us" he said trying to ease the tension.

"Aye, things that haunt us" Old Wilson continued, "but that was only the beginning for now we had tasted human flesh and there after we looked at each other wondering who would be the next meal, then when the other fell asleep and I lay weak under the full moon asking God why he had done this to me I heard a strange singing, a song that filled me with a warm desire, a song from the sea, and gathering up my strength I looked over the lifeboat rim and saw a glowing light upon the gently rolling wave, at first I thought it was just a trick of the mind caused by hunger and guilt but the light drew closer and the singing more intense, I closed my eyes and tried to shake the phantom from my mind but when I opened them I suddenly saw....her".

"Her", Salem asked absorbed in the man's tale.

"I" the old man replied, "a girl not more than a yard arm from the boat, her hair was the color of seaweed and her face as pale as an oyster, her eyes burned like hot coal and her lips were as red as an Indian ruby, I watched as she slowly drew closer and closer and I turned to rouse the others but I had no voice to call out, then when I turned back she was only an arm's length away and I heard the strange singing once more, the song filled me like no other, her voice was like a nightingale but strong like a hurricane, I couldn't turn away, I just looked into her eyes and said nothing, then I heard her speak, (am I not beautiful) she said, but her words were not human but still I understood, somehow I understood, (you are young and strong such a pity that you should die) she said, (I will make you a bargain, give me what I want and I will see that you live) what did I know of bargains with devils, I wanted to live and didn't care at what price so I nodded my spinning head in acceptance, then she looked at me with her burning eyes and I felt myself falling into her dark soul (give me your companions for I am hungry, feed me and I will take you for my own and you shall dwell with me forever).

Wilson paused for a time as the hold fell silent then turning to look out through a brass porthole at the storm raging without he went on with his story, "I took my knife and fell upon my sleeping mates and one by one I cut their throats then tossed their bleeding bodies into the water, the sea boiled and turned crimson under the moonlight and the cry of demons filled the air until I thought my head would bust from the pain of their song then I fell back unable to move and darkness came over me for a time, and when I awoke I found myself in a dank cave surrounded by water, how I came to be there I had no memory, the cavern was filled with flotsam and jetsam and the vile bodies of dead sailors, rotting corpses that were now the homes of crabs, blood worms and vermin from the deep.

Again no one said a word and only the sound of the raging storm filled the air.

"How many days and nights I lay there I didn't know, but every evening she would rise up out of the sea and lay beside me, her body was cold like the touch of a dead cod but her embrace thrilled me like no other and she would kiss me with sharp teeth and lick the blood from my mouth and if I tried to rise she would sing her song and sooth my bleeding heart and tell me that I would be with her all the days of eternity, but when the sun rose she would return to her watery home leaving me to weep because I didn't have the courage to leave her, then one day as I lay recounting my sins. a great wave washed into the cavern and lifted me up and carried me out to the open water, I grasped a bit of wood that held me aloft until by chance I was rescued by a Japanese fishing boat, they took me in and mended my wounds as I lay delirious and when the sun set I could hear her calling to me to return and I fought against my rescuers to let me leap into the water and be with the one I loved but thinking me mad they bound me with rope until we reached port and there I left them and wandered like man dead on the land, it wasn't till years later that I set out on water once more for I couldn't break the fierce hold she had over me and late at night I can still hear her calling to me and I wish with all my retched soul that someday I will be with her once more".

For a time, no man dared to say a word. The Captains voice could be heard shouting out to the men below, "All hands-on deck you misbegotten sons of drunken whores, lively now least I toss you overboard!"

Captain Johansson was not loved by his men, he was short tempered and hated everyone and everything, but he could bring a ship back to port and that was all the mattered to the owners of the Venture so with much grumblings the men began to shuffle up from the hold and into the raging storm above decks.

"Come on men" McCrae called out, "the sooner we shorten sail the sooner our dear captain will stop his yammering's!" One by one the deckhands made their way out of the hold and Salem was among them and this caused the first mate to lift his hand to him, "You're a passenger not a crewman bests you stay where it is warm and dry". Strom shook his pale head, "I shared you drink so it's only right that I share your toil", and buttoning up his heavy coat and pulling his wide brim hat over his eyes he headed into the storm tossed night.

The Venture was a stout ship that was sure, although the hard winds made her masts creak and the tie ropes strained under the relentless onslaught of the tempest. The wind cut like a cold knife against the skin and eyes burned with the salt air but the sailors were used to such torments and paid it little heed, on the other hand Salem was a man of the land but he tolerated the Gale like he was born on the water, he took rope in hand and helped trim sail and his strong arms and back were gladly accepted by the seasoned sailors although they found it strange that this pale skinned man kept a sword at his side rather than leaving such a cumbersome weapon in his stateroom, they did find it wise that the tall man didn't wear his pistols that he wore when he boarded the ship for any fool would know that salt air would make fast work of the metal.

The men worked for a long time before the ship was in order and one by one they were dismissed to go below leaving a small lookout and deck men to watch for danger, McCrae was the last to leave the wheelman, making sure they were still on course and turning to Salem who seemed to love the rain and dark he called out to him above the roar of the wind. "You can go below now, all is well".

But Strom shook his head "I'd like to stay awhile if that sits well with you?"

"Do as you wish, as for me I still have a thirst that needs looking after" and slapping the big man on his heavy coat he made his way below deck.

Salem watched the two burly sailors who were needed to hold the ships wheel and keep them on heading and filling his lungs with the sweet salt air. Now and then the dark sky would light up with flashes of lightening outlining the ship with a ghostly light and a moment or two later the crash of thunder would roll over the waves like the sound of a great gods hammer on a mountainous anvil, still Salem found it invigorating. This was nature at its strongest, clean, pure and not filled with demonic shadows, perhaps he had outrun his dark pursuers, perhaps he was free? A flash of light illuminated a portion of the deck and standing there as if unheeding the raging storm around him was old Wilson, his left hand rested on the rail with his face turned to look out over the churning waves, he wore neither coat or hat, just his bell bottom pants and a torn tunic.

"WILSON!" Salem called out to him, but there was no reply from the old man and thinking the raging storm covered his cry Strom left the upper deck and made his way towards the timeworn cook, reaching him he turned the man around and looked into his wet face, "didn't you hear me calling out to you?" he asked but seeing the look in the old man's eyes he could tell that he was not listening to anything he said, shaking the man hard he tried again, "what's the matter, what ails you?"

At last the old man spoke, "don't you hear it" "Hear what?" "The singing" Wilson replied, "she's calling me again, she wants me to join her". Salem had listened to the old man's story but like the others he thought it was just a sailors tale and nothing more, "I hear no song". "Listen".

It was then that a faint sound touched the ears of the scarred faced wanderer, it rose above the raging wind and carried a sweet reframe that seemed to enter the soul and fill it with desire. Salem turned to lookout over the dark water and there he saw a faint light rising and falling with the waves, at first he thought it was just Saint Elmo's fire that he had heard so much about, but this was no jest of nature, this was something far more sinister, the light moved forward and as it did the singing grew more intense.

"Do you hear it now?" Wilson asked. "Yes" Salem replied letting go of the man.

"Then you too must have been touched by demons" the old man said.

How could Strom tell his story now and even if he did would this poor soul be able to understand or just think that he was, yet another dark apparition come to torment him?

Wilson turned and tried to climb over the deck rail and fling himself into the waiting water but Salem grabbed him by the arm and held him back, "don't man, death is not an ending", he employed. "Let me go! The old man screamed as he fought like a madman to break Salem's hold on him. Strom was hard pressed to keep his hold for Wilson possessed the strength of a madman but Strom's grip held firm and seeing that the old man could not be reasoned with Salem drew back his fist and struck the man on the chin knocking him senseless and he fell to the wet deck unconscious, seeing the helpless man lying there caused some pain to Strom but it was the only thing he could do to save his life.

Turning Salem looked out on the water hoping to see the light gone and when nothing glowed on the water he felt a moment of relief, but it didn't last long for an instant later a huge tentacle shot up out of the water like a waterspout and began waving back and forth over the side of the ship, it rose up half the length of the mast and was as thick as a large wine barrel, dozens of sucker like disks covered it surface and in the dim moonlight it glistened with a reddish sheen.

Salem quickly drew his sword and as the snake-like thing moved close to him he swung the mystic blade with all his might cutting deep into the rubbery flesh and spraying the air with a sickly black ooze, the wounded appendage drew back into the water but no sooner had it done so when three other tentacles rose up to take its place.

Seeing the battle on the lower deck one of the wheelmen began ringing the ships bell in a frantic effort to rouse the crew.

Back on deck Salem had his hands full for the three snake-like arms struck out at him each trying to grasp him in their deadly grip, but Strom kept his distance and when one of the waving arms drew to close he would slice it with his sharp blade then ready himself for another cut.

Hearing the warning bell McCrae and the other sailors came racing up from below only to find a monster attacking their ship, but the first mate was not possessed of a coward's heart. "At it men!" he shouted, "Let's send that beast back to its watery hell!" Shouting out the crew grabbed boat hooks and cutting tools and began to fight like the brave men they were.

Captain Johansson peeked out from below and seeing the danger raging on deck he returned to the safety of his cabin where he could wait till the danger was passed.

McCrae was the first to reach Salem's side, "need some help?" he asked as he swung a heavy lance at the swaying arms, the first mate had heard stories of the Kraken but he always thought them just rum soaked dreams but this monster was all to real. Although his heart was frightened he dare not show his fear least his crew lose their courage.

The sailors were beginning to drive the monstrous tentacles back into the churning water as the driving rain poured down but no sooner did the three appendages draw back into the sea then several more appendages sprung up even larger than those before and began wrapping themselves around the ships masts and seizing up hapless sailors lifting them high into the air before dragging them down to a watery grave. The main mast groaned and there was fear that it would snap like a matchstick in the titanic grip of the monster, sail and rope fell upon the deck and men were trapped underneath the falling debris but still the men fought on yelling encouragement to each other as their weapons did little damage.

Salem dearly wished that he had is pistols with him then realized that a few lead bullets would have little effect on such a huge creature, still he cut right and left with his blade inflicting wounds as best he could, then one of the huge arms grasped McCrae around the waist like a giant serpent and began pulling him over the side but Salem moved quickly and lifting his sword he cut the massive flesh in two causing what remained of the tentacle to loosen its grip and drop the first mate to the rocking deck, seeing that the man was saved Salem desperately looked for some way to save himself and his companions, but what could mere men do against such a creature? It was hopeless, soon the monster would break the back of the wooden ship and all would go down into the sea, then out of the corner of his eye he saw old Wilson slowly rising to his feet, he stumbled and lurched like a drunken man as he made his way to the edge of the ship rail then standing there for a moment he shouted to the rising waves.

"Take me!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, "I will keep my promise to you!" and saying that he climbed up the side and cast himself headlong into the ragging water.

Salem could do nothing to stop him and turned back to the monster that threatened him, but a strange thing happened, the huge tentacles slowly withdrew, one by one the slithered over the side and back into the blackish water, those sailors who had fought so bravely watched at their titanic enemy gave up and vanished back to wench it came.

As it did the great storm seemed to lessen, the towering waves lessened and the wind ceased its howling, Salem moved to look out at the water and there below him he caught a glimpse of something in the water, the figure of a man and a woman, the woman had hair like seaweed and eyes like burning coals and Strom instantly knew that the old man's story was true and looking to see Old Wilson in the arms of the mysterious woman he saw something far different, the man was young and strong but the face bore a striking resemblance to the old cook, then he understood, the man from the land had kept his promise and the woman from the sea had kept hers, then as Salem looked on they vanished beneath the water and went to that place beyond the reach of men.

Chapter Eight.

Eaters of Men.

Salem Strom ran for his life through the dense green jungle of New Guinea with all thoughts of the long sea voyage, the mutiny and the terrible storm that cast him upon this far off shore forgotten, all that mattered now was escaping the fierce cannibals that now hunted him knowing that if he was caught they would overlook the fact that he had once been a respected gentleman of the South and things like that rarely happened to one of his class.

Strom's clothes were tattered and he threw away his pistol after exhausting his ammunition, all that remained was his sharp edged knife and the mystic sword that had saved his life so many times in the past but Salem would have gladly parted with it if he was free of the suffocating green prison that surrounded him, the hot sticky air felt like he was drowning as long ringlets of sweat ran down his scarred face, he was used to the dense forests and the shadowy swamplands of his home but this land was different, biting insects plagued him incessantly and his ears reverberated with the never ending hoots and howls of wild primates and the flamboyant squawking of colorful birds perched high in the treetops. The air was heavy with moisture for it had rained three times since he fought his way free of the vicious natives that attacked him on the white sand beach two days ago, he was the lucky one for all the other men that made it ashore in the lifeboat were killed or taken prisoner and it took all his strength to escape their ravenous hands leaving several of the natives dead.

Salem had no idea if he was heading in the right direction or not, all that mattered now was fleeing from the painted primitives behind him for the fate that awaited him in there hands was something he didn't want to think about so splashing his way through a shallow stream he stopped for a moment to quench his thirst, the murky greenish water might have been poison but Strom had no other choice so he dipped his hand and drew up a mouthful of muddy liquid and placed it to his parched lips, he took a few swallows then looked up through the dense canopy of overhanging trees and taking a rough heading from what he could see of the sun he began running for his life once more.

Some distance behind the white haired man five relentless hunters relentlessly tracked their prey, they were dark skinned men with necklaces fashioned for human finger bones and all powerfully built with broad shoulders and arms knotted with muscle, their leader was a man named Mekara, he was a strong warrior amongst his tribe but hatred ran deep in him and he was determined to find and kill the strange looking intruder who killed his brother, the others that followed him were Huli, Agala, Barru and Kalagi, their painted faces, bone decorations and headdress mark them as members of the Hannara tribe and no other clan dare enter their land fearing a horrible death.

Mekara looked down at the footprint that was clearing visible in the soft ground, "That way" he said pointing in the direction of the imprints with his Taiaha or long spear.

Huli a long standing rival of Mekara shook his head, "He heads for the forbidden place, let him go he will die soon".

This questioning of his power didn't sit well with Mekara, "he slew my brother, I will have his head for that!"

"Your love for your brother has clouded your wisdom" Hui replied, "We cannot go where he leads".

Huli turned to Mekara his eyes filled with anger, "I will follow him and you will follow me" he lifted his sharp pointed spear, "and those that will not will die here".

Agula, Barru and Kalagi lowered their heads in a sign of subordinates and after a tense moment Huli did the same. Seeing that he was still leader Mekara began the hunt once again with the others following close behind him.

Mekara heart was filled with foreboding for he had grown up with the law regarding that place bored into his head, "all that enter will die" it had been handed down from generation to generation, an evil place filled with strange beings and no warrior could overcome them but at the moment he feared the wrath of Huli more so he follow without protest.

The meager sunlight was growing dimmer as Salem at last broke free of the dense vegetation and found himself standing on a sandy river bank with a wide waterway in front of him, it was perhaps a hundred yards to the other side but the current was slow and seeing no other way across he tucked his sword into his wide belt and prepared to enter the greenish water in hopes of fending off his pursuers, then something caught his eye, it was some distance away and at first he thought it was a floating log but then he noticed that it was moving against the current and looking closer he saw a pair of yellowish reptilian eyes and snout followed by a long plated tail lazily fanning through the water. Salem had encountered alligators many times growing up but this water monster was much bigger than anything he had seen before and rather then enter its watery domain where it was King he decided to take a different path and forgo the chance of becoming the monsters dinner. Strom turned and was about to enter the confining jungle once more when his keen ears detected something coming his way.

"Enemy" he said involuntarily, it was a response from his days in the army when every sound might mean your death and seeing no other way he turned back to the water and dove in head first. Salem was a strong swimmer and he used every ounce of this remaining strength in a desperate effort to reach the safety of the other side before the huge reptile that was now baring down on him could drag him down to a horrible death.

Mekara was the best tracker of his tribe and breaking free of the jungle he looked about for the man he longed to kill but he only found his footprints on the riverbank then looking over the water he saw his prey making for the other side.

"There!" he called out to the others of his clan as they surrounded their leader, "shoot".

Kalagi and Barru were carrying bows and they quickly drew arrows and taking aim they let fly the poisoned tipped shafts, the missiles arched through the air but missed their target by a few inches.

"Do not let him escape!" Mekara shouted and once more the two bowmen filled the air with more arrows.

Salem felt the arrows piercing the water near him but he didn't turn his head and kept slicing through the water as fast as he could, he did however see the monstrous reptile coming closer as he lifted his head to breath. Strom didn't know which he dreaded more being eaten by the hungry cannibals racing after him or being ripped apart and devoured by a dagger toothed river monster? And knowing that either way was a horrifying end it gave him the added strength he needed to safely reach the other side just as the scaly beast was about to snap off his leg, grabbing hold of an overhanging root he pulled himself up on dry land and was about to draw his sword and drive it between the yellowish eyes of the creature when an arrow whizzed past his head missing him my a hairs breath so he put aside his revenge and ran into the relative safety of the jungle once more.

Mekara was filled with rage when he saw the white haired man escape, "he has escaped!" he roared and swinging his heavy wooden club he beat the ground sending up small clouds of dust, "he will not get away, I will find him".

"We cannot cross the river" Huli said, "The river fathers prevent us".

Mekara knew that the river fathers or crocodiles as his people called them were extremely dangerous but his hatred for the intruder was greater than his fear of being eaten alive, "he will not escape!" the leader shouted and holding his club at the ready he looked each man in the eyes, "I do not fear and I will not let anyone stay behind".

The others knew that one swing from the club that Mekara held in his hand would crush in their skulls and seeing that they once more had no choice the entered the water one by one, that last to go was Huli and for a moment he looked like he was going to challenge his leaders authority but in the end he too dove into the murky river.

The native men weren't good swimmers by any means and half was across Barru and Kalagi began to tire, at the same time their foddering arms and legs attracted unwanted attention from several other "River Fathers", soon a group of reptilian monsters were bearing down on the hapless natives. Barru was first to go, his trashing leg was grabbed by one of the hungry river dwellers and rolling over and over the monster tore it from the man's torso filling the water with a crimson dye, Barru had time for one long scream before another of the creatures clamped his powerful jaws around his head and pulled him under the water. Kalagi saw the fate of his clan brother and his heart froze, he turned to see a mouth filled with jagged teeth open before him then with a scream in his mouth all became blood and blackness.

The river turned red with blood sending the remaining crocodiles into a feeding frenzy, they tore at the bodies of the slain men ripping out great chucks of flesh and tossing it high into the air to fall into waiting mouths they filled their bellies with the taste of man flesh.

Mekara, Huli, and Agala saw what happened to their comrades but they had no time for weeping and with the monsters concentrating on what remained of the humans they managed to reach the other side unharmed, they pulled themselves from the water and breathing hard they stood on the dry riverbank.

"Barru and Kalagi dead" Huli cried, "how many more will die before you end this madness". "I swore to kill the man who killed my brother" Mekara replied angrily drawing in great lungful's of air, "if others die it only adds to my hatred".

"We have crossed the river" Huli said, "we are now in the forbidden land, turn back and perhaps the gods will let us live". "If the gods wish me dead let them come now" the leader replied and he held up his war club in a sign of defiance. "Kill me now!" he shouted then waited for whatever came next, but the air didn't break with thunder and no demon rose out of the water to take his soul and seeing that he was still alive Mekara smiled, "the gods are with me, now come", and saying that he once again took after his prey.

Huli didn't know if the gods were with them or they were just asleep but he had come this far so what did it matter if he went against their laws for a while longer.

The two remaining warriors gathered up their courage and ran into the rainforest.

Night comes quickly in the jungle and with the darkness came terrors that hide from the light and could only be seen in nightmares.

Salem sat uncomfortably in crux of a branch high up a twisted tree, in one hand he held his sword and the other gripped an outcropping limb to steady himself, it was a very precarious way to spend the night but he didn't think that he would sleep much with the constant cry of night creatures howling and the screams of dying animals ringing in his ears, he had flint and steel in his pocket but he dared not lite a fire least he give away his position and with the heavy moisture in the air he doubted if he could find dry wood to burn. His stomach ache with hunger but he found only colorful frogs and slimy denizens of the forest floor and something told him that neither one would be beneficial to eat so he ignored the rubbings in his belly and concentrated on staying alive.

"Alive" he said with a smile for he knew that he was not alive, not in the true sense of the word anyway, it was true that he walked and talk like any other man but his soul was gone and replaced by a darkness that was always ready to pull him back to hell, still his body did feel hunger and pain and that was something that was both a curse and a blessing.

Not far from him in a small clearing three headhunters were enjoying a meal of juicy snake cooked over a small fire, having been raised in the forest they knew exactly where to find food prey and which ones were safe to eat so with their hunger satisfied they sat silently and stared into the flickering flames.

"Tomorrow we will take his skull" Mekara said nodding his head, "I will place it in my longhouse and all will know that I took revenge for the death of my brother".

"And what of Barru and Kalagi?" Huli replied, "Will that head bring them back from the land of the dead?" "They died doing what had to be done" Mekara answered. "They died doing what must be done". "Tell that to the weeping women they left behind".

Huli's pointed words were beginning to wear heavily on the mind of Mekara, "enough!" he shouted, "we sleep for now and then track him with the sunrise".

Agala had remained silent but knowing that they were only going further into the forbidden lands gave him courage to speak, "the gods know what we have done, I do not wish to anger them further, kill me if you wish but I will not go against their laws any longer". And he rose up and stood looking into the eyes of Mekara.

Mekara and Agala had grown up together and shared countless adventures and many said that he looked upon him as a second brother but now he stood up and faced the defiant man, the two warriors stood there for a time without saying a word then Mekara suddenly lifted his club and struck his clansman on the side of his head cleaving in his skull and he dropped to the ground dead.

Blood began to soak the earth from the ghastly wound as Mekara gripped both his ankles and drug him into the forest, a few minutes later he returned and sat down beside the fire once more.

"We will kill him tomorrow" Mekara said without emotion.

Salem did manage a few minutes of fitful sleep during the dark night but now it was time to run once more so shaking the cobwebs from his mind he climbed down from his treetop nest and took a quick bearing on the rising sun and continued his escape.

The forest seemed to be changing as Strom weaved his way through the tangle of vines and undergrowth now and then coming across a large stone block or broken column, many of them were completely taken over my vegetation but others were clear enough for him to make out strange engravings or figures, they were mostly faded now, cracked and worn with long age and weather, how they got here he didn't know but he surmised that at one time there must have been a great civilization here but soon the encroaching flora would erase all traces of the fallen city and no one would ever know who dwelled there. Salem kept to his path and soon the jungle opened up more and more until he was walking on what looked like a pathway of sorts, colorful flagstones the size of a man covered the ground broken only by an occasional tree or heavy vine but they were twisted into unusual shapes as if some mad sculptor had fashioned them and left them there for all to see his artistic insanity. On either side of the unlikely trail more columns rose up and like the others they were also chiseled with great detail and perhaps if he had paid more attention in class he might be able to consign a civilization to them, but there was little time for contemplation with his pursuers somewhere behind so he quickened his steps and raced forward along the uneven stone route.

Close behind the murderous man from the sea Mekara and Huli quickened their pace knowing that the intruder wasn't far ahead but when they came to the same blocks of stone they stopped as if held back by some unseen hand, both natives knew the stories of men vanishing in the forbidden lands and seeing first hand works of the gods made them ponder their fate should they go any further. Mekara was the first to put his hand on the sacred rocks, Huli expected him to scream in pain and fall to the ground dead but he didn't instead he smiled.

"There is no danger here" Mekara said, "the stories were meant to frighten children not men". Huli had to admit that they were still alive but he believed in the gods and what they could do to those who went against their laws, "we live for now but for how long?" he asked. "We will live long enough to kill the man we seek" Mekara replied, and once more he set out after his elusive quarry.

Not far ahead Salem wondered at the mysterious things surrounding him, the path had led him to a structure that was far different than anything he had ever seen before in his wandering or from the scholarly books he had to read during his schooling, it resembled a dome in some ways but the colossal curved roof had long since fallen and all that remained were huge metal supports that extended into the sky like the clawed fingers of some titanic bird of prey, they were rusted with age and many of them had succumbed to time and twisted downward under their own weight, what was left of the once immense walls still remained but large sections were split apart by the towering trees that had undermined their foundation's. Vines the thickness of a man's arm penetrated into and out of every crack, the ancient monument was a hundred times the size of the grandest plantation home Salem had ever seen and he wondered what manner of man possessed the architectural skill to construct such a towering memorial, there was also a sweet fragrance in the air but Salem could see no flowers, it seemed to fill his head with strange feelings, a longing to enter the dome, it was like the fragrance that wafted out of water front opium dens, or the perfumes of the far east that painted women wore to entice young sailors to enter their lairs of pleasure.

Then something else caught his attention, it wasn't another bit of broken statuary or crumbling column or an interesting set of markings on a Stele, it was the overwhelming silence, the air was completely still with no trace of the ever present bird and monkey calls, even the buzzing insects that had plagued him since he entered the jungle had vanished all the remained was a deathly stillness that sent a chill up Salem's spine, he felt like he was being watched by some unseen malevolent evil and he had to decide if the danger ahead was less than the man eaters that were following behind, once again the sweet aroma filled his nostrils and after a moment he plunged headlong into the ancient dome.

Passing through a stone archway he found himself entering a long tunnel that slanted downwards not because they were built that way but by some sort of erosion from beneath, there were large flat flagstones that had once been level but were not broken and formed themselves into a crude stairway the was never meant for human feet, the walls of the corridor were set with huge mosaic of intricate detail and looking closer in the dim light Salem saw that they were made from sparkling stone of all kinds, amber, sapphires, topaz, lapis lazuli, rubies, emeralds, diamonds and pearls all held together with gold and silver, it was truly a wonder of artistic design and it all seemed to tell a story. Salem could make out a great island set in a azure sea, towering structures reaching skyward with flying machines and other fantastic creations the likes of which no man had seen before, he saw a proud handsome people who had overcome warfare, hunger and sickness to stand at the very panicle of humanity, many of the panels had vanished with time and the floor was littered with valuable stones and as an afterthought Salem reached down and put a handful of the larger stones into his pocket and continued down the corridor but the light from the entrance grew dimmer and dimmer until it was difficult to make out the space ahead. Salem had flint and steel in his pocket but there was no wood to fashion a torch but as his eyes grew more accustomed to the faint light he saw a greenish glow down the passageway and with his hand firmly grasping his sword he continued forward.

A hundred yards or so down the tunnel he found the cause of the strange light, there protruding from the wall was a panel the same height as his head, Salem stared at it for a time trying to figure out what it was? Lifting his hand he felt for heat thinking there must have been some kind of fire behind it but to his amazement it was cool to the touch, perhaps it was some sort of cold fire much like the firefly that he had seen as a boy but whatever it was it provided enough luminescence to carry on his escape. The panels continued their story and Salem witnessed the proud people leaving their island home as it sank beneath the churning water and this sparked a memory in him, the ancient tale of Atlantis and the terrible fate that nature inflicted on that peaceful isle.

Was this place constructed by the decedents of those forgotten people? But Salem wasn't a scholar and such things were beyond his knowledge so he continued onward, with each step the panels grew less in artistic detail until they were hardly more than crude rendering and they showed that the race that made this place their home reverted back into warfare as they struggled with the jungle around them, the one proud race became hostile and forgot the genteel ways of their ancestors turning on each other to survive, the fought each other with strange weapons and an energy that turned metal into fire, it was then that the panels vanished altogether and all that remained were hardened stone. Along with the panels something else changed, the green light still remained on the walls and gave just enough luminescence to see but the pathway became slippery with a substance that reminded Salem of a snails track, the sweet fragrance turned sour and along with it was the unmistakable sent of death. A wild cry pierced the stillness of the tunnel and Salem turned to see two natives racing towards him with crude weapons in their hands, Strom wished that he still had his pistol for two well placed shots would quickly bring down the attackers but all he had was his sword and knife, he was certain that he could kill one of them but that would give enough time for the other to bash in his skull so rather than take that risk he decided to try an evade them and race further into the passageway.

Mekara was mad with revenge and no warnings of everlasting punishment from the Gods by Huli could persuade him from entering the fallen dome and killing the man who haunted his soul, Huli was a warrior of honor in spite of his primitive ways and Mekara was his leader so he uttered a silent prayer of forgiveness and followed where he knew he shouldn't.

The strange green light continued as Salem struggled to keep his footing on the slippery flooring but he could see that he was only growing weaker by the minute and knowing that he would soon come to the end of this strength he stopped and turned to face his attackers and if he died he would at least die like a man, he drew his knife and bracing his feet he waited for his enemies to come within striking range.

As satisfied smile crossed the painted face of Mekara when he saw his quarry waiting for him and screaming out a wild war cry he lifted his long spear and prepared to sink it deep in the man's heart. Salem moved aside just in time as the crude weapon missed his chest by a hairs breath, but Strom had no time to swing his sword and kill the warrior for another of his kind drew down on him, Huli was armed with a heavy club but his blow was parlayed by the steel of his opponents weapon, he stepped back and prepared to deliver another blow as Mekara drew a bone knife from his belt. Salem readied himself for the death but solving the mystery of the end of life would have to wait for the ground suddenly slanted downward and unable to keep his footing on the slick flooring he along with his attackers slid down the dark corridor into darkness.

Salem landed with a heavy thud that drove the air out of his lungs for a moment and set his head spinning like a ladies skirt at a promenade dance, when his head steadied he took stock of his surroundings, he had fallen into what must have been a cave at the end of the tunnel for there were no walls that he could see only dim green light that filtered from the passageway they tumbled down.

Strom had not time for resting and lifting himself up he found that he still gripped his sword in his hand but his knife had been lost, he hastily checked for broken bones then noticed a few yards from him lay the two natives that wished him dead and quickly crossing the uneven floor he lifted his weapon to dispatched them, it was then that his upbringing as a southern gentleman returned to haunt him for no aristocrat of his breeding would kill an unconscious man no matter who he was. Lowering his sword he waited for his attackers to open their eyes. He didn't have to wait long for Mekara and Huli returned to the land of the living and sat up, Huli looked into the eyes of the man that could easily have killed them and seeing that there was mercy in the man he rose up holding his club but didn't attack, it was not the same with Mekara for nothing mattered to him but seeing his enemy dead and picking up his spear he prepared to kill.

Salem waited for the black man to race forward and die on his swords point when the native suddenly froze in his tracks, Strom found this strange behavior unnerving and waited for some kind of trick to play itself out but after a moment he turned to see what the native's vison were now fixed on.

There in the darkness were several pairs of glowing eyes, unblinking and abnormally large they seemed to sway back and forth as if trying to focus on what lay ahead, Salem suddenly felt an unnatural cold as he watched the radiant orbs begin to move slower and as they did Strom heard a disturbing sucking sound like wet leather dragging over a tanners floor, this horrific sound was broken by guttural mewing's and grunts and a sickly odor that waffled it way towards them, it was then that he took a closer look at the ground beneath him, it wasn't stone or dirt that supported him as he had thought before it was the remains of thousands of bones. Animals of all kinds were mixed with human in a graveyard of death, the thousands of crawling vermin made their way in and out of the disgusting debris

Salem drew back from the devilish eyes as Mekara and Huli did the same, no longer enemies they now stood shoulder to shoulder as they saw exactly what was lurking in the darkness, in the dim green light they observed a head or what should have been a head for it had no neck and was attached to a squat worm like body, it had a face of sort but it was devoid of a nose or ears that furthered the disgust from the onlookers, there was an opening that one might call a mouth but it possessed no lips of any kind and the teeth were replaced with rows of razor sharp points the size of a finger nail that could strip flesh off of bone and a raspy tongue that flickered in and out like a snakes, its slim covered skin was translucent and spongy and marked with patches of what appeared to be mold, it crawled on its belly for its arms and legs where now only stumps that waved about in a most horrific way.

Salem watched the thing come closer and closer and with it followed more and more of the gruesome creatures that left a slimy trail in their wake, what God or Devil could create such a monstrous form of life was beyond the thinking of Strom or the natives that stood near him, they all stood frozen with disbelief for a moment

but as the first one came within reach of Strom's sword the thing lifted its misshaped head and spit out a black liquid that landed on Salem's left arm, in an instant the fluid began to burn as if on fire and screaming in pain Strom swung his blade and cut the clawing terror in two with a single stroke.

Seeing the horror around them Mekara and Huli forgot about their death quest and fought back with spear and club, the monsters were easy to kill for their soft body had not armor and very little bone, heads and torso's were smashed by club or ripped apart by spear and all the while the creatures spit black acid and cried out in high pitched wailings. Salem's sword severed heads and chopped bodies but still the horrible creatures continued to emerge from the darkness in a relentless march and seeing that they would soon be overwhelmed Strom desperately looked for a way out of the worm infested hole but he found only the tunnel and there were a dozen or more of the hideous things between him and the portal to the surface.

"This way!" Salem blurted out forgetting that his attackers wouldn't understand his words and he began hacking his way through the mass of crawling death, Mekara and Huli heard the white haired man speak and didn't comprehend but seeing what he was trying to do they formed a battle square of sorts and all three of them slowly made their way towards the opening leaving squirming horrors around them, even as they died the worm men continued to spit burning saliva and all three men were hit but they engorging the pain they made it to the tunnel entrance and began making their way up, but with every three steps they lost two on the slippery surface while the crawling creatures seemed to gild up the portal with ease.

Desperate now Salem drew on the last of his strength and driving his sword into the ground for support he managed to lift himself up and free his blade, now standing he could see that one of the natives was losing his footing and would surly die a horrible death in the mauls of the monsters that were now only a few feet away, so he reached over to pull Huli to safety and with his help Salem managed to lift out Mekara then all three men began to run and they didn't stop running until the tunnel, dome and structures of the Forbidden Land was far behind them.

Breathing hard the three men rested beside a small stream and bathed their wounds, with the black liquid removed the burning stopped. What the creatures were Salem didn't know, perhaps they were some under- ground demons that rose up to punish those who dared to build on the land or maybe they were the builders, descendants of Atlantis, the people from the sea who had forgotten their higher ways and reverted back to something far worse than cannibals.

Salem looked at the two natives, were they not eaters of men? He still held his sword and they still possessed their weapons so what would happen next was anyone's guess.

Huli knew that this man had saved his life so he stood up and lifting his club he let it drop to the ground, "I owe you a life white man from the sea" he said.

To Salem his words sounded like gibberish but all men understand when a man drops his weapon and seeing this Salem lowered his blade and put out his hand hoping the other man would take it, "My name is Salem" he replied.

Huli had no idea what this strange man was saying and the gesture with his hand seemed very strange but he moved forward and took the man's hand in his, "I am Huli" he said. Mekara stood apart from the pair saying nothing but the fire of hate still burned in his eyes so when the white haired man turned his back to him he lifted up his spear and raced forward. Seeing Mekara attack Huli pushed Salem aside, blocking his spear thrust he swung his club and struck his leader on the side of his head crushing in his skull, Mekara died as he had lived with hatred and vengeance but his name would still be remembered as a great leader.

Salem wasn't sure just what had happened but he was grateful to be alive and turning to his turned to his knew friend, "you don't happen to have any Kentucky whiskey do you?" he said with a smile.

Over the next few weeks Huli and Salem became good friend, Huli guided him to a place where he knew others of his kind would be and along the way he taught him how to survive the perils of the jungle, he showed him how to hunt and what food was safe to eat, Huli had never met anyone as ignorant or as ugly as the white haired man but he did save his life and he felt it was his duty to give him the wisdom that he possessed, the man from the sea offered him shiny stones that he had in his pocket but Huli only took one out of politeness for what good were stones in the jungle?

Salem imparted his language and Huli taught him his so by the time they reached the settlement known as Port Moresby they could converse well enough to hold a conversation so as they sat around a campfire eating roasted monkey Salem asked him something that had been on his mind for a long time. "Why did you kill Mekara?" Salem asked chewing on his jungle meal, "he was your brother and I am not?" Huli sat across the fire warming his hands, "Mekara was my lodge brother but all were his enemy, if you kill all who are not like you soon you are alone".

Salem had sat in school and listened to professor's lecture on the superiority of the civilized Englishman but he never heard the nature of humanity spoken better than the wise man who sat before him.

A day later Salem emerged from the jungle near the outpost of Port Moresby, he turned to see a friend lifting his hand to say farewell and then vanish into the forest, over the years Salem would be asked many times how he survived the cannibals of New Guinea for after all they are "Eaters of Men", but to his question Salem turned away and gave no reply.

Chapter Nine.

The Hand of Kali.

It was a long sail from Port Moresby to the port of Calcutta but luckily Salem Strom traveled first class and although he was ignored by the other passengers because of his looks and his rather sullen disposition he managed to endure the rolling waves and frequent storms without complaint, some said he had the best cabin on the ship because he found a fabulous treasure deep in the jungles of New Guinea but other said it was because of his remarkable skill at cards but whatever the reason he found himself sitting at a table drinking tea across from the magistrate of the city, an elderly man by the name of Sir Reginal Jennings who embodied all the prejudices of a proper English gentleman.

"I wouldn't undertake such a hazardous journey without the proper safeguards" Jennings said as he sipped his heavily sweetened tea. Salem eyed the man up and down noting his thin face and neatly trimmed beard, "I mean to reach Jaipur before the rainy season" he replied "and traveling alone I'll make better time".

"Why the hurry?" the old man said, "stay awhile and enjoy your wealth, the local natives can supply you with whatever you require, oh they need a bit of prodding now and then but in the end they get the job done". "My mind is made up, and if you can't help me I'll find someone who can". Salem's words sounded final but Jennings felt it was his duty to try and warn him once more after all he was a white man in more ways than one. "See hear old boy we're trying our best to civilize this god forsaken country but a mile or so outside this retched city and her majesties rule ends". "Thank you for your time" Salem said standing up, "but I think I can risk being killed". "Well at least finish your tea" Jennings said taking another sip from his ornate cup, "You've hardly touched it". "I prefer Kentucky whiskey" Strom relied.

Without saying another word Salem left the room leaving Sir Reginal Jennings alone with his libation, "what a horrible man" he said draining his china cup of the last drop.

Salem Strom cut quit a picture as he strolled down the noisy market place of Calcutta, tall, well dressed in riding boots, long black coat and wide brimmed hat, around his waist was a finely tooled leather belt and holster to carry his ivory handed pistol and jeweled sword, superstitious buyers and sellers quickly made way for him as they took notice of his scarred pale face and flowing white hair some even uttered a quick prayer to their personal god for protection thinking he was a demon in disguise.

There was some who had been following him ever since he made his appearance in the ancient city and they were not looking to buy or sell him anything, they were looking to rob him of his jeweled sword and whatever else of value he had, there were five of them, thin rat faced thieves well known to the local constabularies as men who wouldn't hesitate to kill for a few copper coins and the site of a finely dressed foreigner promised much more than that so they blended into the crowd and waited until the proper time to strike.

Salem turned down a narrow street that was sparsely inhabited by merchants as he made his way back to the expensive hotel where he was staying but a few minutes after entering he heard people crying out and turning he saw a pack of white robed men brandishing knives heading in his direction, drawing pistol and sword he met them head on.

Well aimed bullets brought down the first two men with shots to the head and belly but a moment later the others were upon him, he cut deep into the first man's flesh causing him to scream in pain as blood sprayed from his wound then whirling about Salem cut the limb off another and the would be thief grasped the stump of his severed arm in an effort to cheat death, this left only one more attacker alive and he had a clear shot to dive his long blade into Strom's back but at the last moment he froze in his tracks, his face contorted in a grimace of horror and he fell face first to the ground with a dagger lodged deep in his spine.

People began to scream as the dead and dying lay bleeding on the coble stoned street, Salem looked to see a young woman, she wore a drab dress with no ornaments other than a small leather belt and a bone neckless around her slim neck, her hair was dark as were her eyes and looking at her Strom had a sudden feeling that he had seen her somewhere before. She moved cat like close to him and spoke, "come with me I know a place that is safe". Not wanting to entangle himself in the deaths of the thieves Salem sheathed his sword and nodded his approval, "lead the way" he said. They began to run only stopping for a moment for the girl to pull her dagger from the back of the fallen thief and tuck it into the belt around her trim waist, the girl moved swiftly down one crowded street then another until Salem had no idea where he was and he was about to halt when they broke free of the confining avenues and into the open air. A wide river lay before them, the Hugli a tributary of the great Ganges, small boats with triangular sails moved silently up and down the waterway like white swans and the air was fresh and sweet a far cry from the noxious odors of fish and sweat that hung heavy over the dense inner city.

The girl moved to a series of ancient stone steps the ran from the bank into the water, on either side were worn statues of Hindu gods and goddess that ruled over earth, water and sky, the girl sat herself down resting her naked feet in the cooling water and waited silently.

Salem took his sword from its scabbard and began washing the blood from its surface, "you know your way around the city" he said not looking up from his gruesome work. "I know many things" the girl softly replied rubbing her tiny feet dry with the end of her long tattered dress. Salem's blade was now clean but he kept it in his hand rather than sheathing it, "you saved my life, thank you for that".

The girl smiled a bit, "you are welcomed Salem Strom" she replied. "How do you know my name?" he asked. "As I said, I know many things".

Salem was by no means a patient man and he rose to leave, "perhaps we shall meet again", and he turned to leave, he took a few steps then the girl called out to him.

"My name is Meleva" she said.

Salem's head quickly filled with questions for how could a young girl be the same person as the old fortune teller in New Orleans? Looking closely he saw she possessed the same dark eyes, strong and vibrant but Meleva was dead so how could she sit here now alive and well?

Strom returned his sword to his side and sat near the girl, "tell me Meleva do you have a family?" Salem had the idea that the old woman and the girl were somehow related.

"As a baby I was found floating in the river, those that raised me treated me as a slave and I was taught to dance for the pleasure of fat gutted sultans who eventually sold me to a rich merchant but I drove my dagger through the fat pig's heart on our wedding night and escaped".

Salem knew what it was like to be treated as a slave but that still didn't answer the question of why the girl saved him and knew his name, "You know my name but why did you risk your life to come to my aid?"

Meleva stood up and moved close to Salem, "when I heard an Englishman was looking to travel to Jaipur I sought you out for I also wish to go there, I can speak the language and you cannot, I will know when you are being cheated and I can protect your back as you already know, so tell me Salem Strom will you take me with you?" Salem didn't know if she was a blessing or a curse but looking into her eyes he had only one choice, "looks like we're going to Jaipur".

Two days later Salem and Meleva sat under the stars at the prow of a boat heading up the Hugli to meet with the Ganges, the wooden flat bottomed vessel wasn't much to look at by western standards with its crude upturned bow and stern held together by wooden pegs and cast away rags for caulking but it did possess a rather large central cabin that allowed for privacy and with the aid of the big square cut sail and seasoned crew it could make its way up river against the current. With Meleva's help Salem bought suitable clothing, weapons and hired the boat and crew to transport him all the way to Jaipur but it would take many days and nights and along the way the girl taught him to speak Hindu enough to converse and over time he told of his adventures but emitted the fragments where he died and came back to life thinking that she would never believe him.

Salem and his new companion sat on worn silken pillows under the night sky as the river water gently parted to make way for them, the moon seemed very close as strangely shaped clouds gently made their way across its face.

"I love the water" Meleva said softly, "there is something about it that fills me and draws me close and if I listen carefully I can hear it sing to me", the girl turned her eyes from the river and looked up at the evening sky and the myriad of stars that twinkled there, "tell me who you are Salem?" "I am a man seeking to go to Jaipur" Salem replied simply. Meleva turned away from the eternal sky and looked into Strom's eyes, "I am young but I have seen and know much, your skin is cold to the touch and your eyes tell of many terrors they have seen but there is more that you hold deep inside you, I have given you my heart, will you not share you pain with me?"

When he was alive Salem had known many women, rich and poor, wise and empty headed but he never loved any of them but Meleva was different, there was something about her, something wild and free and also dangerous that appealed to the darkness that also dwell inside him, he had no love when he was alive would he now find it when he was dead?

"You're right Meleva there is pain inside me" he said softly, "I go to Jaipur because I heard there is an old black man who possesses great power and can raise the dead, I wish to go there so I can die". Meleva reached up and kissed him on the lips, "then let me fill your last days with joy."

At first Salem was hesitant to engage in lovemaking with the girl not because of her young age but the fact that she would someday turn into the old woman that died helping him, but how could he say anything, did she know of the things to come, could she be in two places at once or was it just a witch trick meant to deceive him? But looking at her face and touching her supple body drove all caution from his mind and replaced it with a pleasure that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

That night the crew kept a distance between themselves and the main cabin for they saw the sword that the white haired man carried and didn't wish to disturbed him or the girl so they sang lusty river songs and dreamed of the wives and lovers they left behind.

The boatmen who called themselves Masters of Water proved true to their names and guided the old boat up the Ganges to the Yamuna and then to the Chambal and lastly the smaller tributary of the Banas river, it took weeks to reach their goal and along the way Meleva danced for the boatmen and taught Salem how to speak Hindi and the history of her people and the many legends of her culture, she also taught him the art of lovemaking referring to a book that Salem found quite interesting, he in turn taught her how to use a gun and it didn't take her long to become just as good a shot as he was and along with sharpshooting he trained her how to use a sword and that came easy to her because she was already proficient with a knife, but he never let her touch the mystic blade no matter how much she pleaded fearing that it might drain her of life or awaken something that he didn't wish to face but being together strengthen the love between them until a future without each other seemed impossible.

when they finally reached their destination, the sailors called Salem Maharaja for he paid them double the agreed upon fare and sent them on their way singing praises to the white king and his beautiful queen.

The small port of Cambul was the dropping off place for those seeking Jaipur for it could supply travelers with horses, food and whatever was needed for the dangerous overland journey to the fabled city but as Salem and Maleva talked to the many guides who regularly made the trek from Cambul to Jaipur they turned their backs and walked away until there was only one left to them so they headed for a street vendor selling roasted lamb and found the person they were looking for an older man by the name of Hagnar, whose love of spiced lamb knew now bounds, he was a huge man with an even huger beard and upturned moustache that he kept neatly trimmed.

"I am sorry my friend, I will not go no matter how much you are willing to offer," Hagnar said waving a rough hand filled with roasted lamb and shaking his turbaned head. Salem had great respect for a man who knew his limits but he also understood that enough money could persuade him to go further, "would five hundred rupee's make you reconsider?" Hagnar again shook his large head, "You do not understand the land is swarming with Thugs and my men will not risk their lives for such a paltry price". Salem had heard of the Thugs, assassins who preyed on unwary travelers but he tried once more to sweetening the pot, "would six hundred rupee's add to your courage?" Again the big man shook his head as he bit down on his succulent meat and seeing that they were getting nowhere Meleva moved forward and smiled her best smile, "Please we must get to Jaipur, would it be said that the men of Banas are afraid to go where a mere girl like me would gladly venture?" Hagnar like all men had their pride so he scratched his unkempt beard with his greasy fingers and considered the amount of money and his reputation against the loss of his life and at last he found the right combination, "seven hundred rupee's and two hundred more when we arrive". "Done" Salem replied and spitting on his hand he held it out for Hagnar to shake and seeing what the strange looking man did he repeated the gesture and the pack was made.

Salem and Meleva were both contented that the bargain had been made but unbeknownst to them there was another who also smiled at the prospects of the pair heading to Jaipur but not for the same reasons, his name was Hanuman it meant "Broken Chin" in the Hindu language, he was called that because of his missing teeth and the somewhat lopsided set of his jaw, he wore the customary white linen sherwani but his was torn and dirty enabling him to blend in with the chattering crowd, from his looks one might surmise that he was a thief but they would have been wrong for his motivation was based on his religion and that made him far more dangerous, for a robber will kill for money or to stay out of prison but a true believer will butcher men, women and children because his God commanded it.

Hearing enough Hanuman hurried away down a nearby alley keeping his narrow eyes to the ground until he came to several other men dressed in the same white linen as his, they were gaunt, dangerous looking brigands each carrying a Khanda, a long double edged sword at their sides, bowing once they gathered close around Hanuman as he began to speak. "They come" he said in a gruff voice, "tell our Guru the time is near".

Two days later a dozen or more well-armed men on horseback and one equally deadly lady prodded across the hilly terrain that lay between Cambul and Jaipur, the men had been well chosen by Hagnar for he knew who to trust and who was brave enough to stand and fight should that be necessary, each man was supplied with the best in rifles and plenty of ammunition and if firearms failed they carried sword and knife.

Salem and Meleva were dressed for travel, he in light shirt and pants but Strom insisted on a wide brimmed hat rather than the wrapped turban that all other men wore, his boots were of fine leather and his pistol and sword hung from a belt with a large silver buckle, Meleva caused quit an uproar when she chose much the same attire for herself and many of the men said it wasn't decent for a woman to wear such things but they had no say in the matter and soon the grumbling died away.

"It is a fine day" Hagnar said swiping is sweaty face with the back of his hand.

Salem was used to the humid air of his southern home but the blazing sun of India seemed to cook everything it touched so that even his cold heart felt warmer, "is it always this hot?" he asked as they rode side by side. "No" the big man replied.

This gave some relief to Salem until he heard the next words from his large companion. "Tomorrow it will be much hotter" Hagar added.

Meleva couldn't help but laugh when she saw the look on her lovers' face, "we can always turn back if you like?" she said. "No" Salem replied sternly, "we will go on". It was then that Meleva remembered an old saying, "tell a man what to do and he will do the opposite", it was true back then and it was true now.

Seven more day they traveled encountering no one along the way, the hilly land turned more mountains and it was a good thing that Hagnar was leading them for they would have surely lost their way in the maze of rocky canyons and meandering valleys, but on the eight day the entered a shallow valley where Hagnar said there would be fresh water and food for the horses that things turned for the worse.

As the column of dusty men and horses rose up a rocky hill they looked down on a green oasis filled with towering palms and rich vegetation, it was indeed a paradise to weary travelers seeking shade and a refreshing wash.

"Look there" Hagnar said with a wide grin, "did I not tell you I knew the best way to Jaipur". "Indeed you did" Salem replied with a smile, "Perhaps my money wasn't wasted after all".

Meleva was looking forward to a nice cooling bath but she wouldn't have admitted that to any of her companions least she be labeled a weak female but her daydreams of floating in a clear spring were cut short by the sound of gunfire emanating from the emerald sanctuary ahead. Ignoring the danger Salem drew his pistol, dug his heels into his stallion's sides and raced forward, a moment later Meleva did the same and knowing the ridicule if he feared to go where a woman eagerly ventured Hagnar shouted out a command and he and his horsemen galloped after them shouting loudly and brandishing their weapons.

Down the hill they raced at breakneck speed and thundered into the oasis, there they were confronted by a small group of raggedly dressed men scavenging bodies that lay on the ground, seeing the horsemen bearing down on them the thieves grabbed what they could then ran to their waiting horses.

Salem's and Maleva's pistols blazed away with deadly accuracy killing two of the robbers outright, leaving them behind the others mounted their horses and rode off as quickly as they could. Salem wanted to go after them but Maleva's cooler head prevailed and pulling back on his horses reins he leaped from his saddle and landed with his boots planted firmly, Meleva horse reared up as she was about to dismount but her firm hand regained control and with her slender feet on the ground she and Strom began to looked around for any sign of life.

Several bodies lay about, and old man, two others who appeared to be guards of some kind for they were dressed in bit of armor and beside them lay firearms, near them were a richly dressed man and woman, they were all surly death but there were no traces of blood on them and Salem thought this very strange but looking closer he could see red marks around their necks.

"Strangled" he said coldly. Hagnar moved closer and pulling back their garments to make sure of the markings he was more precise about who killed them, "Thuggee's" he said bluntly, "They kill by strangulation". "Yes Thuggee's" Strom replied.

Salem educated himself more about those loathsome assassins from his conversations with Meleva, they were a group of well organize thieves and murders, to take advantage of their victims Thugs would join caravans and gain their confidence and this would allow them to surprise and strangle the travelers with a handkerchief or noose, they would then rob and bury their victims, the gunshots were obviously from the armed brigands in a desperate attempt to save their wrenched lives and with the untimely arrival of Strom and the other the Thugs had no time to properly dispose of their victims in the ground.

"We will bury them" Salem said without emotion. "The bodies must be burned in accordance with our customs" Meleva replied.

Salem didn't wish to offend the woman at his side no matter how strange her request sounded, "very well, look about for wood for a fire".

The oasis consisted of a small body of water with a cluster of tall palms and a few stunted trees, boulders large and small were strewn about giving a foot hold to scrubs and a goodly amount of grass. As Hagnar's men began to gather up bits of wood to fashion a pyre one of them suddenly called out. "Over here!" the man cried.

And thinking that it was a thief left behind Salem drew his sword and raced to where the man stood but when he arrived he found only a young boy cowering between two large rocks, his skin was dusky marking him as Hindu and from the look of terror in his large black eyes he must have been a survivor from the massacre. Maleva and Hagnar were only a few seconds behind and looking at the frightened youngster they also arrived at the same conclusion.

"He's hardly more than a child" Meleva said looking the boy up and down.

"Careful" replied Hagnar, "even a young cobra can kill" Maleva put away her pistol and approached the shaking boy talking softly like a mother to her child, "we will not harm you I promise". The boy was reluctant to come forward and drew back from her, "I am Meleva, who are you?" she asked.

"My name is Johar" he said whimpering, "Please do not kill me".

"Stand up boy" Salem said, "We won't harm you I promise".

Slowly the frightened child stood up and moved forward all the while shaking with fear, when he was out of his hidden place Meleva put her hand on his shoulder.

"You are safe now" she said softly.

As the funeral pyre burned like a torch in the night the rescued boy told his frightening story of life and death, Salem, Meleva and Hagnar listened intently as they sat around a lesser fire eating dried meat, cheese, bread and washing it all down with sour wine.

"My parents, grandfather and I were on our way to Jaipur and I thought we were safe because my father hired guards to protect us", Johar said as he picked at his food, "then some travelers asked if they could joined our caravan and my father being a kind man allowed them to journey with us, but they turned evil and only I escaped by hiding, now my parents are dead and I....." he voice broke and he eyes filled with tears, "what will become of me now, I have nothing and no one to turn too". Hagnar spat on the ground "it is the work of the Thugee's, they should all be wiped from the earth!"

Salem had fought many enemies over the years and he knew that no matter how many you kill there are always others to take their place but hearing the boys sad tale he made a vow to himself that whoever killed his parents and the others would pay dearly.

Meleva could see that the young boy was needy and she moved to his side and put her arm around him, "you will come with us, we will make sure you are kept safe".

Johar looked at her and nodded his small head, "The gods will find a way to repay you for your kindness".

With the proper burial of his family Johar was given one of the pack horses to ride and a small knife for protection and with no other choices he joined his rescuers as they once more set out for their destination, for two more days they rode and the land turned mountainous with steep canyons and narrow passageways that were hardly wider then a pair of mounts but Hagnar assured them that they were on the right path, over the next days and nights Johar endeared himself to his rescuers, doing chores, gathering dried wood for the fire and tending the horses, even Hagnar regretted his initial warnings and smiled at the boys helpfulness.

Salem had no siblings but as a youngster he played with the children of his father's slaves and even with his sullen demeanor he had to laugh at the boy's antics, Johar took an interest in the sword that Salem carried but no matter how much he begged Strom wouldn't let him touch it fearing it would do him harm.

Two more days of uneventful travel and the caravan stood at the entrance to a canyon that echoed of a age long past, the horses seemed uneasy and Salem suddenly felt a tingle up his spine as he gazed upon what lay before him, on either side of the narrow passageway two great statures stood sentinel, they were the height of three tall men and were chiseled from the ancient limestone that made up the sharply cut gorge, their extraordinary features and outlandish clothing marked them as guardians of the Goddess of the Darkness.

Seeing Hagnar, Meleva and the other bow their heads to the graven images made Salem wonder just how powerful a belief could be.

"Forgive us great ones" Hagnar words were directed at the towering figures, "we ask the you let us pass and we offer this as a gift to the all-powerful Kali", the big man drew his ivory handled dagger and pulled it across his thick palm making a small cut then urging his mount ahead he placed his bloody hand on the worn stone arm of one of the statures leaving a red mark and seeing what he had done the others did the same, cutting their hands and placing them on the statues, even Johar added his young blood to the others.

Salem thought the whole ritual rather ridiculous but once again he put aside his personal belief and was willing supply what the silent guardians required, so cutting his flesh he placed his palm on the ancient statue but as he did he felt that he had touched something evil and he suddenly turned his head expecting a dark vision to appear but there was nothing, only the sound of the wind and an eerie silence.

The blazing sun was falling towards its rest as shafts of golden light filtered past rugged mountain peaks and shed a warm glow on the column of riders making their way into a valley that men called "the Valley of Kali", it wasn't wide, perhaps a few hundred meters across and stretched out to an opening some distance ahead, the towering walls were honeycombed with dozens of ancient structures cut directly into the soft limestone, they resembled Hindu temples but from a much older age then the ones Salem had encountered on his journey, some were of a minor size with an entrance that only a single man would pass through while others could easily permit a dozen or more worshipers to enter. The masterful workmanship was still apparent despite their great age and showed a panorama of warriors and gods battling for supremacy of earth and sky and above them all stood a many armed goddess.

"Kali" Hagnar said as he observed the magnificent ruins surrounding him.

"Kali?' Salem asked, "you mentioned that word when we entered here is she some kind of god you worship?"

Now it was Meleva's turn to speak up, "Kali, the black one, thee are many stories told about her but most view her as the goddess of blood for she demands sacrifices from her followers and the Thugs worship her above all others".

"So that's why you cut your hands" Salem replied, "it was an offering to her for entering her sacred place". "Yes" Hagnar said, "It is a small price for passing through her valley and the fastest way to Jaipur, we will spend the night here and continue with first light". Once again Salem felt uneasy but he kept his fears to himself.

Some of the men had misgivings about spending the night in such a haunted place but they feared the wrath of Hagnar more than the anger of the gods so they quickly made camp and soon their fears were forgotten for Hagnar allowed them well aged wine to drink rather than the stale water they were given so far and after a time they sang songs and laughed about what cowards they had been and dared Kali to show her evil face.

Salem, Hagar and Meleva also drank deeply as they talked around the campfire, only Johar kept his head clear saying that wine was forbidden by his father and he wished to remain loyal to his memory. As the moon rose high in the night sky all but Salem and Meleva remained awake and sat close together looking up at the twinkling stars.

"I hope you do not find what you are looking for" Meleva said as she rested her head against her lover's chest. "Why would you say such a thing?" Salem ask as he took a deep gulp of his wine. "You seek a man so you can die" she said with a tremble in her voice, "I do not wish you to die, I wish that you would stay with me".

How could he tell her that he was already dead and that the man she loved was just a phantom from the darkness, what would happen is she knew, would she still lay beside him or be repulsed at the touch of his cold hand, and what would she say if she learned that he saw her die and by the very sword that now rests near them? And having no answer he lifted her face to look into her eyes and then softly kissed her on the lips. "The future is always tomorrow" he said as they parted.

And knowing he told the truth Meleva said no more and fell asleep in his arms.

Rest didn't come to Salem for something dark still pulled at him and no matter how much fragrant wine he consumed his mind continued to summon up strange visons and the air was far too still without a whisper of life. Strom continued his wakeful visual until the pale moon was directly overhead and cast moonlight shadows on the stone bas-reliefs surrounding him, it was then that he saw a strange mist begin to flow from the portals in the canyon walls, at first he thought it was the effect of the wine playing spiteful tricks on his clouded mind but as he looked closer it continued to move across the canyon floor like a vaporous serpent, it was sickly green in coloration and rose a foot or more from the ground and although there was no wind it moved forward as if it had a life of its own. The mist continued to move and with it came ghostly figures, they took on the outline of men but they wavered and seemed to have to substance other than their phantom like appearance, it was then that Salem noticed that they were carrying weapons.

"Wake up!" Salem shouted, but he received no response from the woman laying at his side and taking her up in his arms he shook her hoping that her eyes would open, but the remained closed, she still breathed but it was deep and labored as if she had been drugged, he stood up and suddenly his legs felt weak and unsteady and grasping his sword he shouted once more, "Get up all of you!" but like the girl the others remained laying where they were and seeing his efforts were useless Salem stood waiting for whatever was to come.

The strange mist drew closer until it was lapping at Salem's feet and lifting his sword he brought it down on the encroaching vapor but his blade found nothing to cut only the crawling mist, again and again he tried to fight back but the hideous cloud healed itself with each strike of his blade and soon his head began to spin like a top and his eyelids felt like lead, he had only enough strength for one more blow and driving his sword into the ground with his effort he saw the demon figures lifting their weapons as darkness finally took him.

With Salem vanquished on the ground the hovering mist began to gather itself together and then form into a towering vortex, it rose up and swirling round and round it suddenly vanished into the air leaving the travelers where they lay surrounded by dozen or more men of flesh and blood.

One of them moved forward and looked down at the white haired man and the woman lying near him, "Kali will be pleased", Hanuman said with a smile, "Take them all too where their lives will end".

Salem drifted in a sea of darkness, all about him swirled disembodied voices calling out to him from the other side, taunting him, begging him, filling his head with remembrances of days long past, reminding him of a life that he once had but will never have again, then emerging from the blackness he saw the face of his father and he heard the last words that he spoke to him. "You are no son of mine, die like the traitor you are!" Then his ears reverberated to the gunshot that ended his life, it rang over and over in his mind until it vanished in darkness.

With the drumming still ringing in his ears Salem slowly opened his eyes but his vison was still unsteady as he looked about him but what he saw made him question if he ever left the demon hell of his dreams or was still a prisoner there.

Before him stood a golden statue of what some would call a woman but she possessed six arms instead of two and five of the hands held weapons, a bow, an ax, a spear, a shield and a club, the last hand was empty, she stood over two meters tall not counting the jeweled encrusted crown upon her hideous head, her strangely beautiful face was frightening with large ruby eyes and a long tongue that protruded from her mouth in a most unladylike way, she stood like a skilled dancer precariously balanced on one foot with her many arms raised skyward.

"Kali" Salem uttered as he shook his throbbing head and tried to bring his hands to his face but he found them bound, it was then that his vision cleared and he was more keenly aware of his surroundings. He was stripped to the waist and his wrists were held tightly by strong leather straps to a stone pillar in a tremendous torch lit cavern hewn from solid rock, from the overwhelming size it must have taken years to complete, the ceiling was supported by a series of stone columns each the weight of a man's body with one large opening and several smaller tunnels jutted out from the central grotto, around the walls hung great iron braziers in the shape of human skulls, they burned with fire and illuminated the cavern in a flickering light, in the warm glow Salem could see that the cave was filled with a hundred or more scantily clad men each with their faces smeared with blood while a dozen or more pounded their fists on bronze drums with tops covered in human skin, in the center of the room was a pit perhaps fifty feet across surrounded by several tall statures of cobra headed serpents, each masterfully fashioned and inlayed with gold and silver, near them were four smaller pylons the height of a man's waist, but what caught Salem's eye were the ghastly items that lay at the foot of the golden woman.

There gazing at him with lifeless eyes were the severed heads of Hagnar and his men, their faces were frozen in a look of terror and Salem knew that they must have died in pain, looking at what remained of his friend he felt a tremendous anger rose up in him and he pulled with all his might against his bindings but even his strength wasn't enough to free him, his face contorted with rage and his teeth ground together as beads of sweat ran down his face but still he couldn't break the straps that held him and after a time he stopped his efforts preferring to wait for a better time for his revenge, then looking again at the faces of the men he once knew he saw that Meleva's and Johar's skulls weren't a part of the horrible carnage and this gave him hope that they were still alive.

The drumming reached a fever pitch then suddenly stopped and Salem witnessed a man with a crooked jaw slowly approach him, he was dressed like the other with a simple loincloth and crimson face except for a neckless that hung in front of his narrow chest, at first Salem couldn't make out its construction then he realized it was fashioned from fingers severed from human hands. He raised his arms and pulled back his shaven head, "All praise to Kali!" he shouted.

And the men surrounding him repeated his declaration, "All praise to Kali!" they cried out lifting their arms skyward.

Hanuman came within a few feet of Salem and a grin played across his misshapen face, "We have waited a long time for you and what you bring us" he said reveling in the helplessness of his prisoner, "and now that we have what we seek you will stand before our Guru and he will pass judgment on your miserable soul".

"Where is the girl and boy?!" Salem shouted once more pulling at his bindings, "If you harmed them I will have your head!" Hanuman only smiled at this threat and turned to the others of his kind, "Brothers, the time is now, bring froth our Guru so that he might listen to the screams of the unbelievers".

Salem watched helplessly as a group of men emerged from one of the side corridors leading into the great cavern, these men were not like the others for they were tall and strongly built and wore ancient armor with long curved swords in their hands, they walked slowly as the beating of the drums began once more, they moved in a close formation around a short figure that Salem could only catch glimpses of and as they grew closer the tall men parted revealing a small figure dressed in a white robe with a golden mask over his head, he said nothing as his guards positioned themselves around the pit then he walked to where Salem stood bound and lifting his small hand the drumming stopped.

Salem looked into the golden mask and once again repeated his earlier threat, "Where is the girl and boy you dog!" he shouted.

For a moment the figure just stood their unmoving then lifting his hand he revealed his face. "Johar!" Salem exclaimed drawing in breath. "Yes Johar" the boy replied, "the poor helpless child that you and your foolish comrades saved from the evil marauders and then took under your wing thinking that they would be rewarded for their kindness", shrill laughter broke from the lips of the boy, "It was I who tainted the wine to lull you and the others to sleep but when you didn't succumb I sent the mist to sap your strength so that you could be brought before me, but how could you know, how could someone like you understand the countless years that I have waited for this moment?"

A look of confusion played across Salem's face and it didn't go unnoticed by Johar. "I know what questions run though you mind" the boy said with a smile, "How could such a youth speak of ages long past? A question that has a simple answer, I am not what I seem to be, this body is not the one I was born in, that vessel has turned to dust centuries ago, the boy Johar was scarified to Kali and when life vanished from him I was there to enter."

"What are you?" Salem voice carried all ancient hatred of the supernatural.

Johar shook his head, "you're feeble brain could never understand my origin for I came to this world born on the cosmic winds of space from a planet beyond your galaxy, a world of dark power and beings that battle for control over the universe, I lost that bid for power and fled across the cosmos to land here on this pitiful world, the land was much different, a world ruled by titanic reptiles that tore each other with fang and claw, I took the body of one of those great beasts and drank my fill of blood and flesh until it was time to move to another, ages passed and I saw the rise of ape-men and seeing their savagery I became one, more long years moving from one human to another all the while fostering death and destruction for that is the way of my kind".

"Tell me your name demon!" Salem shouted, "So I'll know who I killed".

Again a laugh sounded from the boy, "I have lived many lives but you would not know of them for they have been forgotten by men but I know who you are, your name is whispered in the Stygian darkness of forgotten hells by creatures too foul to mention, those who dwell there say you have risen high for a man who has lived only a single lifetime."

"What do you want from me?" Salem said his eyes burning with a fierce hatred.

Johar moved closer until he could reach out and touch his prisoner if he wished, "I do not want anything for you are already dead but I will give you a taste of what is to come".

And reaching out he placed his hand on Salem's chest and when he did it felt like a branding iron was burning into his flesh, Salem clenched his teeth in rage but he didn't call out and after a moment Johar removed his palm and Strom looked down expecting to see a mass of scalded flesh but to his surprise he found no trace of a marking.

"Do not worry my friend" the youth said mockingly, "that was only a taste of what is to come but before I show you the real meaning of suffering I wish to show you the gift that you have brought us" and nodding his head to Hanuman the broken jawed man called out. "Bring her forward!"

Salem watched helplessly as a cluster of men entered the cavern from one of the side corridors, they carried a litter on their broad shoulders and on that dais lay the body of Meleva, she was all but naked with only a narrow strip of cloth about her trim waist, her arms were placed upon her chest and in her hands she held the mystic blade like a mother holding her child, at first Salem thought her dead but when he saw her naked breasts rise and fall he knew that life was still within her.

The diligent men carried her to the center of the cave near the yawning pit and placed the litter on the four stone pylons a few feet off the ground and seeing that she was in place Johar again turned to Hamuman and nodding his head the broken jawed lapdog pointed towards Salem. "Bring him!" he commanded.

Immediately two strongly built men drew near Salem taking him by the arms as a third man cut his bonds, feeling his hands free Strom struggled valiantly but the strength of the two men was more then he could overcome and they brought him forward and stood him near the waiting pit, it was then that Salem could see what lay at the bottom of the nadir and what he saw make him shutter, the floor was a writhing mass of slithering death as dozens of deadly cobras battled each other in a never-ending struggle for dominance, they crawled to and fro over the skeletons of hapless humans that were thrown into the crevasse as a blood offering to Kali.

Salem again struggled with his captors thinking that they were about to throw him into the hellish opening and this time he managed to free one of his arms and balling his hand into a fist he struck the man at his side breaking his nose but his freedom was short lived as two more men seized him and he found himself their captive once more.

Seeing that his prisoner was where he wished him to be the creature that called himself Johar slowly walked to where the girl lay and looked down on her.

"Sleep my child" Johar said softly, "dream of ages long past, of lives that you have forgotten, you and I are much alike but while you seek the light I am content with the darkness, now rise and dance for Kali, dance for the blood god!"

Like a woman in a trace Meleva opened her eyes then slowly rose up and stood upon the litter, as she did the drummers began to beat out a rhythm, slow and primitive at first that seemed to reach into the darkest corners of the soul, Meleva swayed her hips to the pounding drums and lifting the mystical sword above her head she suddenly leaped high into the air and landed catlike on the narrow ledge at the edge snake pit her eyes wide with excitement and terror.

Salem involuntary drew in his breath as she began to stride lightly around the fissure, the slightest misstep on her part and she would tumble into the waiting death below, the drumming increased in tempo and with them Meleva quickened her dance, spinning like a top she lifted the sword and waving it around her head she leaped and bounded from place to place always in jeopardy of falling as the followers of Kali shouted in excitement and beat their fists on their naked chests, faster and faster the drums sounded as Meleva moved in front of the golden statue of the deadly goddess, the girl hastened her steps until she spun like a whirlwind and the men cried filling the cavern with their unholy screaming.

All the while Johar stood unmoving with a cruel smile on his young face as if a great unknown knowledge dwelled within him, then when the screams and beating reached a fever pitch he lifted his slim hand and an eerie silence fell over the dimly lit cavern.

"Hear me oh great Kali" the boy called out lifting his thin arms in praise, "you hold in your hands the power of many ages, the bow that brought down great Achilles, the ax that cut off the head of Pompey, the spear of Destiney, the shield held by Alexander the great and the club that Hercules brandished, and now comes the greatest of all the sword of life and death!" Johar turned to Meleva who stood like a stature with the mystic blade in her hands, looking at her the girl moved to the golden statue and placed the sword in the open hand of the goddess it remained there as Meleva slowly turned and walked to the edge of the yawning pit and there she stood with her toes resting on the edge.

The being that dwelled inside Johar turned to his followers he eyes burning with a madness that can only come to those possessing limitless power, "Followers of the goddess Kali, now is the time that you show your devotions and fulfill your oaths of obeisance!"

And as one the blood smeared men raised their hands to the golden statue, "Kali" the called out and with the beatings of the drums they began moving towards the serpent pit, Salem watched unbelieving as one by one they selflessly flung themselves over the edge and into the waiting jaws of the hissing snakes below, it was then that Salem understood the power of devotion and the terrible consequences when believers give up their lives to another.

On and on the column of men walked to their deaths never uttering a word or a sign of doubt on their bloodstained faces, Salem looked down to see the scaly serpents sink their long poisonous fangs into their willing victims until the mass of lifeless bodies grew higher and higher and still the followers of Kali continued their trek to death until only the drummers remained and carrying their drums with them they leaped into the retching mass of bodies, the last to go was Hanuman and as he stood inches from the pit he turned to his master. "All praise to Kali" he said with a smile and placing his hands together he flung himself to his death and with his passing the cavern was once more silent.

Salem was still held fast by the men holding his arms as he gazed at Meleva teetering by the pits edge, her lifeless expression hadn't changed, Strom knew that she was still under the fearful control of the demonic child.

Johar's eyes seemed to glow with an unholy fire and his mouth mumbled words that were never meant for human lips and as he did the stillness of the cavern was suddenly pierced by a grinding metallic sound like rusty steel on steel and looking up Salam saw the great golden statures hand firmly grasped the hilt of his sword and the once lifeless arm begin to move, it rose up slowly followed by another appendage then another and another until the huge figure lowered her raised foot and stood looking into his face with its great red eyes.

"It is done" laughed the boy, "at last it is done, now all India will know the power of Kali and they will rise up as one to follow her and she will do as I command, armies will fall before her and we will go on and on until the whole world burns with fire and the sea's turn red with blood!" Johar moved to within a few feet of Meleva, "now comes the last sacrifice for her life will end and I will enter her body and be the true goddess of the night!"

Salem let his head fall to his chest in a sign of resignation and his arms no longer pulled at his captors and when the men holding him felt his submission they relaxed their grip and this proved to be a mistake for Strom suddenly broke free and striking out furiously with his iron fists he broke the jaw of the first man sending the shattered bone into his dull brain and dodging a murderous blow from the second jailor he kick him hard in the chest sending him tumbling headlong into the pit.

Johar's face filled with rage at the demise of his sentinels and he turned to the helpless girl, "LEAP!" he screamed and hearing his words Meleva bent her legs and prepared to cast herself to her doom, but before she could carry out the commands of her master Salem ran to her and grasping her tightly around the waist he dragged her backwards to safety, Meleva struggled to break free for she was still under the spell of the sorcerer boy and seeing it was life or death Salem slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. Meleva eyes rolled back in her head and for a moment Salem thought she was dead but he was wrong and shaking her tussled hair she looked at him with recognition on her face.

"What?" were the only words she had time to utter before the vengeance of Kali was upon them.

The great statue was alive, it moved with wrenching steps as its many arms flailed about like some mechanical human like spider, the unmoving expression of the goddess made her seem even more evil as her long blueish tongue racked in and out of her grinning mouth and her ruby eyes glowed with an inner light, an animal roar sounded from her hollow throat as she tilted back her crowned head, and lumbered forward.

Its movement weren't quick, and this gave time for Salem and Maleva to avoid her powerful blows from sword, club and ax, missing her foe had no effect on the metal deity and she was relentless in her attack.

Salem had no weapon at his command so he picked up a large rock from the ground where it had fallen and lifting it over his head he flung it at the oncoming metal monster with all his strength but it only reverberated off the thick shield that she carried production a loud clang.

"Run!" shouted Salem and together he and the girl made a dash for safety.

Johar watched them fleeing and laughed at their helplessness, "Fools, there is nowhere to run the goddess with find you and when she does she will grind you bodies to pulp!"

Salem and Meleva were indeed trapped but they were far from helpless for they still possessed the fire to live that dwells within all creatures, so they quickly ducked behind one of the stone columns supporting the roof to give them a moment to think.

"How can you fight a thing of metal?" Meleva ask.

But before Salem could answer the point of a spear came crashing through the rock they hid behind and the towering column began to crumble, with the quickness of cats the humans avoided being crushed by the falling rock but one of the heavy stone struck the metal beast severing one of its arms so that the mystic sword fell to the ground and seeing his chance to regain possession of his blade Salem ran forward directly at the golden monster, Kali swung her arms but Strom was too quick for her and avoided having his head caved in my her club and twisting to one side the ax that she held in her other hand missed his neck by inches. Picking up his lost armament Salem faced the monster as it lumbered forward once more but this time he didn't run and swinging the mystic blade it cut into the golden figure leaving a gash several inches wide and to his amazement blood began to flow from the wound and a shrill cry rose up from the goddess as if she was in pain.

"NO!" Johar cried out seeing his servant harmed and drawing a small dagger from his robe he ran to where Meleva stood eager to drive it through her heart.

Meleva stood transfixed as she watched her lover battling the living goddess but from the corner of her eye she saw the evil boy racing towards her and turned just in time to grab him by the arm and preventing him from taking her life.

Meleva stared into his blazing eyes, "I treated you with love and now you try to kill me" she said as she wrestled with the child "but I will not die easily".

Although Johar was only a child he possessed the strength of madness and Meleva was hard pressed to keep the dagger from penetrating her naked breast.

Salem could see her struggling but he had his hands full trying not to be killed by the hulking metal goddess, again and again he swung his blade and with each cut more blood flowed until the glittering surface of the statue was running with crimson ringlets.

Meleva couldn't overcome the power of the boy and she knew that soon her strength would betray her and the sharp point of the dagger would put an end to her life, then glancing over her shoulder she saw the yawing mouth of the pit near her and letting her body go limp she tumbled backwards like the dancer she was and lifting her foot she placed it on the chest of Johar and sent him flying over her head to fall into the venomous hell where he had sent so many of his followers, Meleva leapt to her feet in time to see the demon boy squirming in pain as deadly fangs ripped into his flesh and a ghastly scream escape his lips.

Salem didn't hear the last gasps of his tormentor for he was too busy avoiding death, he sword continued to do its deadly work cutting first one arm then another until the metal creature was limbless and without the magical properties of the ancient weapons the metallic demon was helpless.

Strom had witnessed life entering the golden goddess and now he watched as that life slowly drained from her, blood from thousands of worshipers over countless ages along with the magical weapons were the hellish ingredients needed to bring life to the lifeless and now it came to an end, the monster staggered like a drunken sailor its glowing red eyes ceased to shine and with one last cry it fell to the ground and shattered into bloody fragments.

Salem stood there victorious with only minor cuts on his body as Meleva came to him and threw her arms about his neck, they stood the way for a time basking in the simple fact that they were still alive, at last they parted and Meleva looked into Salem's eyes.

"Why was Johar trying to kill me?" she asked bluntly.

Salem smiled at her and nodded his head, "that is a long story" he said.

After they escaped the cavern Salem and Meleva were relieved to find their pack horses where they left them and although they were desperately in need of rest they rode as fast as they could from the Valley of Kali and they didn't stop until the haunted canyon was far behind them.

A weeks more hard travel and at last they found themselves in the fabled city of Jaipur where they were granted an audience with the great sultan that ruled there and he was very happy to greet them for they sold him two rubies of enormous size at a price that he found quit reasonable but the sellers left out the fact that they had once been the eyes of a golden goddess who's remains now lay hidden from the light.

Salem and Meleva remained together as Strom searched for the old man that he desperately wished to find but their efforts proved futile when the man was found and turned out to be just another fraud and possessed no dark secrets.

"What will you do now?" Meleva said as they sat beside the river eating dates.

"What say we head west?" Salem said as he chewed on the palm fruit, "I've read about ancient civilizations around a great inland sea". Meleva looked long and hard into the dark waters, "I love you Salem but I cannot go with you" she said softly.

Meleva's words cut deeper into him than any blade forged by human hands, "what has come between us that you would turn away from me?"

The girl turned to him and her eyes told Strom that she was in pain, "When we were held captive by Johar and I was under his spell I dreamed of other lives, ancient kingdoms long forgotten and mighty civilizations in the distance future, places that I had been or will be, the sword that you carry spoke to me and now I must answer, you know who you are but I do not, you and I are bound together but your destiny follows a different path then mine".

Salem cold heart began to break, he wished with all his tainted soul to take her in his arms and carry her away to a land where no demon or god would find them but he knew there was no such place. "I will think of you" Salem said, and knowing that if he stayed he would never leave he rose up and walked away without looking back but if he had he would have seen the woman that had stolen his heart weeping softly by the never ending waters.

Chapter Ten.

The Tomb of Tosh Ba-Call.

Salem tried to drown his broken heart in numerous bouts heavy drinking and gloomy nights of wild gambling but painful vison's of Meleva still haunted his aimless days and fitful dreams and soon his reckless wagering and endless consumption of strong brew took its toll and he abandoned the jeweled city of Jaipur and joined a trading caravan heading west, he had lost the considerable fortune that his share of the selling of the ruby eyes of Kali brought him so he offered his services as a bodyguard to a wealthy trader who wished to reach the rich trading markets of fabled Egypt in one piece and there sell his valuable shipment of silks and spices.

For a time the travel proved uneventful but a few weeks into the trek the long line of camels were set upon by a band of brigands and many of the men were killed but Salem managed to save the life of his implorer and thus endear himself to the grateful merchant.

"Have you ever heard of the name Tosh Ba-Call?" ask Abdul-Malik to the man who shielded his person.

"Can't say I have" answered the tall white haired guardian.

Salem and his implorer sat lazily upon embroidered silk cushions inside the latter's great tent feasting on silver platers of sweetened meat and goblets of heavily spiced wine as two half naked servant girls stood nearby ready to supply them with whatever they desired.

"It is an old story told by my people" the fat merchant went on to say, "it was said that he held a great treasure in his hands but like all the children of Allah he was fated to die and was buried with all his wealth in a place hidden from the eyes of men".

"That's too bad" Salem replied his head clouded with drink, "I'm sure it would be a treasure worth finding".

"Indeed" answered Malik licking the cooking grease his fat fingers, "but I have heard that his fabled tomb rests but a short journey from here, but alas there are few who would risk the venture".

Abdul Malik voice was pleasing with an air of believability and it was easy to see why he had risen so high in the trading businesses with the many jewels he always wore around his chubby neck and sausage fingers.

"Why is that?" Strom ask taking another deep draft of his head clouding wine.

Adul-Malik motioned for one of the alluring servant girls to refill his jeweled cup, "it is a silly superstition surrounding the tomb, some say it is guarded by great evil that will destroy all who enter, but that is a silly belief fit only for children and not brave men like us".

In the weeks since he had left Jaipur Salem had learned much about the man who sat across from him, he was greedy, self-indulgent and cunning but that was a fact the he understood long before joining his caravan and it made no difference to him, drink and remorse for the loss of his love made Salem put aside his better judgment and race headlong into danger.

"If only we knew the way to the tomb" Strom said with a shaking of his head.

"Ahhhh perhaps we do" the fat man replied with a wink and a smile and putting his thick hand into his silken robe he drew out a folded piece of ancient parchment and began to open it, "I was lucky enough to come across this map some time ago, I paid a heavy price for it but I believe it was a lucrative investment".

Even with his head clouded with wine Salem knew that Malik would never part with a coin when he could take what he wanted but seeing there might be a sizeable profit to be made he played along.

"How far?" Salem ask draining his mug.

"Oh a day's ride by camel perhaps" Abdul replied, "Why do you ask?"

It was easy to see that the rich trader was spinning a golden web around the man from the west but it didn't matter to Salem if he did, anything to take his mind of thoughts of Meleva was more than welcomed.

"What would it take to seek out this haunted treasure?" Strom ask as a dark skinned servant girl poured more sparkling wine into his empty goblet.

"A few daring men on stout camels should be enough to make journey there and back" Malik said springing his trap, "then it just a matter of opening the tomb and taking what is there".

Salem took a deep gulp of his pleasing wine, "then what do you say to going there and dividing the treasure fifty-fifty?"

"I think that would be a spending idea" Abdul answered lifting his cup in a toast, "Then may Allah look kindly on our quest".

Salem didn't believe in a merciful god or any deities for that matter but he would soon wish he did.

The next day Salem's head was still throbbing from the excessive amount of wine from the night before and the added light of the morning sun only added to his discomfort as he exited his tent, he lifted his hand to shield his bleary eyes as a naked servant girl put her slim arms around his thick neck desperately trying to pull him back into the shadows.

"Do not go" the girl said, "stay with me".

Salem had no memory of what had transpired after he left Abduls great tent but looking into the eyes of the attractive girl he dearly wished he had, "don't worry" he said trying his best to summon up a smile, "I will return", then he kissed her once and walked away leaving the girl to rummage through his belongings for a silver coin or two.

Strom had discarded his usual dress for the traditional trappings of the Bedouins who's land he now traveled, loose fitting trousers, soft hide boots, cotton shirt under close knit chain mail and polished breast plate, arm braches of steel and leather belt, he had no luck at finding a Colt revolver so he settled for a Webley and strong curved knife, he did however retain his sword refusing to trade it for the curved blade that all dessert warriors carried, he even wore a Kufiya, the flowing head covering that kept the sun from baking the brain. To anyone he appeared as just another outland wanderer except of his pale skin, white hair and scarred cheek, but one thing he never got use to were the foul smelling and argumentative camels that were the main source of transportation in the waterless wastelands, what he would have given for one of the well-mannered stallions he rode back home, now as he approached the disgusting beasts he saw Malik waiting for him dressed for travel with a gold dagger thrust into his wide sashes.

"Welcome my friend" Abdul said with a toothy smile, "I trust you slept well?" his question contained more than a friendly greeting for he was the one who sent the girl to Strom's tent. "Yes quite well" Salem replied without added information.

Seeing that he wasn't going to receive stimulating details the portly merchant turned to two heavily armed men standing near him, a strong hardened pair that went by the names Aban and Ghazi, it was easy to tell them apart for Aban possessed only one eye having the other one torn out by an angry woman who he later strangled to death, Ghazi still had both his eyes but his face bore a scar that ran from his hair to his chin. They were trusted henchmen that Malik had employed many times before, no one would call them intelligent but what they lacked in brain power they more than make up for in ferocity and their ability to bring out the worst in themselves.

"Are the camels packed and ready as I ordered?" Malik ask of the one eyed man.

"Ready and waiting lord" replied Aban checking to make sure he had plenty of ammunition for his rather outmoded rifle. "Then let us be off" Abdul replied and moving to his hump backed mount he lifted his leg and settled into the high backed saddle and up the camel rose bearing the fat human on its back. The other two men did the same leaving only Salem to deal with his ride but grasping the saddle horn Strom plated himself in his seat and kicking into the hairy beasts' sides the four men were off to whatever fate awaited them.

"Are you sure the camp will be here when we return?" Salem ask as they headed away from the gathering of tents.

"Of course it will" Abdul laughed as he rocked in the saddle.

"How can you be sure?" ask Salem.

Again, Abdul laughed hard making his belly shake, "Because the last man to betray me paid a heavy price".

"What price was that?"

Malik lifted up a brown and withered object that hung by a leather thong from his saddle horn, at first Salem couldn't make out just what it was but after a moment he recognized the grislily trophy, a human hand.

The four mismatched adventurers rode under the relentless sun through the broken mountains and rocky terrain saying little and trying not to consume too much of their precious water, now and then Abdul drew out his coveted map and taking a heading from mountain peaks and other distinguishable landmarks he guided the others through a maze of crisscrossing valleys and canyons and when at last the blazing sun began to set the overstuffed merchant found what he was looking for.

"Allah be praised" he said lifting his cubby hands to the sky.

As far as Salem was concerned it looked like just another bend in a countless series of trails but looking closer he saw the faint outline of what appeared to be a giant scorpion cut into the rock face ahead of them.

"We are close" Malik said smiling, "soon we will reach our goal and we will all be very wealthy men". "I will buy many shapely women" Aban said smiling, "they shall stand ready whenever I call". "And I will fill a great vessel with wine and dive into it like the sea" Ghazi added.

"And what will you do with your share of the loot?" Asked Abdul to the white haired man mounted next to him.

At first Salem said nothing for he had been a man of riches before and in the end it had done him little good but after a few moments contemplation he spoke, "I will give it to other for things I wish and they in turn will pass it on and in the end they will die and those like us will come to rob them in their tombs".

Both Aban and Ghazi had no love for this strange man and hearing him tangle his words only made them despise him the more.

Only Abdul understood what he was saying but before he died he would wallow in golden dreams, "let us be off" he said and urging his camel forward they turned to the right and continued on their quest.

Darkness was quickly falling as Salem and the others emerged for the rocks and saw an open plain in front to them, sand and rock covered the ground and seemed untouched by camel hoofs or human feet, a series of tall stone statues stood half covered in sand and they lead to a great mount of stones carefully laid one after another forming a stepped pyramid, it rose up a two hundred feet or more with what looked like a great iron door at its front. "The tomb of Tosh Ba-Call" Malik said under his breath.

In spite of himself Salem felt a rush of excitement as he gazed at the enormous worn monument, like all men he felt a great swelling of pride in what one man could do and seeing this huge testimonial made him wonder where his bone would find their resting place? "Your map was true" Salem commented as he gazed at the ruins.

"Yes, let us hope that all my knowledge proves just as correct" Malik said shifting his great bulk in his saddle. The would be tomb robbers moved forward under the watchful eyes of the crumbling statues, time and the elements had done their work on the figures wearing away the details bit by bit until the faces were only pale reminders of what they once were, but looking at the hollow eyes Salem still felt that they were inspecting him and he half expected the stone mouths to open and issue a warning to turn back. Overhead hung several large dessert vultures, they hung there like dark angels waiting for a feast to drop to the sand. The sun was all but down when they reached the entrance to the crumbling tomb and Salem's first impression was correct for a great iron door stood between them and whatever lay inside.

"Let us hurry" Abdul said dismounting.

Salem saw no reason for urgency but the idea of finding some great treasure soon got the better of him and jumping down from his camel he stood next to the big man and ran his hand over the rusted metal entrance, it stood as tall as three men and deeply pitted with age and upon closer observation it was in fact two doors each supported by massive hinges set with large bolts, there were no handles just a round plate about a meter across set with signs of the zodiac.

"It would take a hundred men with battering rams to beat down this door" he said with assurance. "Ten fold that have tried and failed" Malik replied, "but they did not possess what we have".

"And what is that?" Salem ask.

"A key" Malik answered, the portly trader unsheathed the golden dagger at his waist and ran his chubby fingers over its dented edge.

"That is a key?" Salem ask for he was expecting a roughly forged device not the elegant creation before his eyes.

"How do you think it has stayed hidden for so long?" Malik seemed to take great pride in his cleverness, "Tosh Ba Call was the chief architect of Alexander the Great and like all his kind he made sure his tomb would be sealed for all time, it took me years to find the secret of how to enter the vault, I was just a boy when I first heard the tales of the great Tosh Ba-Call and his treasure so I set out to find it, I learned many languages and studied the ancient manuscripts, more years passed, more failures, I grew old with golden dreams filling my head until I almost went mad, but how I stand here for I have done what no other man has, I have found the fabled tomb".

This remark didn't set well with Aban, "you mean we found it" he said gruffly.

"We all share equally" added Ghazi as he rested his rough hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Of course," Abdul replied with a reassuring smile, "soon you will receive your just rewards", he held up the knife, "you see the indentations on the edge, they are not the random pitting of age, they were carefully placed there by skilled locksmiths who understood the complex intricacies of guarding great wealth".

Salem knew better then to fully trust the wily merchant and made sure his pistol was loaded and ready, "if that is the key let's see you use it" he said putting his gun back in its holster.

With a flourish Malik ran his soft hands over the mystic symbols on the iron door all the while mumbling yea and nay to himself then when he found what he was looking for he inserted the disguised key into a corresponding slot on one of the astronomical signs and turn it to the left, for a moment there was nothing then a clanking sound began to emerge from deep within the pile of stones, the sound grew in intensity along with a grinding noise as if great metal working were slowing coming to life and slowly the great rusted doors began to open.

Salem and the other drew back as the twin gates swung outward with a loud grating noise, how they were able to do this without human help was beyond the simple minds of Aban and Ghazi but Salem had a working knowledge of mechanics and knew it must have been done by a complex system of levers and pulleys but how an ancient civilization could have acquired such information was a mystery to him.

With one last shutter the passage into the great stone fortress was now open and Abdul moved forward to stare into the inky blackness, "Aban, Ghazi, fetch the oil lamps and light them, and bring a length of rope".

Abdul stood gazing into the darkness with eyes burning and that didn't go un-noticed by the American for Salem knew the look of gold-madness and what it can do to a man's soul, many men set out seeking riches saying that they will do good with it and give to those who have nothing but as soon as their hands are filled with gold they forget all that they promised and convince themselves that God has favored them so why should they share it with others.

"Soon all will be mine" Abdul said under his breath convinced that no one would hear but glancing over at his bodyguard the old merchant tried to correct himself, "I mean to say that all will be ours".

Salem nodded in agreement, but he knew that Abdul would betray him and the other the first chance he got.

Following their employer's command the two servants opened the carry packs on the camels and withdrew two worn brass lanterns that they quickly lit and a round of strong braided camel hair rope.

"Why should we share what might be ours?"Aban said out of earshot of his employer, "let us wait till old Abdul finds the treasure then we kill him and the American, what do you say?" "I say that two is better than four", Ghazi replied.

The two thieves smiled at each other in a sign of agreement but anyone could see that they were just two snakes ready to sink their fangs into the other when the time was right.

Ghazi and Aban returned with the lanterns ready to enter the tomb.

"Step lightly" Malik said when all was ready, "the ancients protected their tombs and Allah only know what lays ahead".

There was no need to post a guard for the camels for there was no one around to steal them only the wind and the sand and they had no need for such creatures so without further ceremony the four intrepid tomb robbers walked away from the setting sun and into a world of ageless darkness.

The passageway was narrow with smooth stone walls unmarked with any hieroglyphs or paintings, the floor was also stone and Salem had to marvel at the workmanship for each block was precisely cut and fitting together without mortar or fastenings of any kind.

Malik insisted that Aban and Ghazi lead the way and fearing for what might lay ahead they kept the lamps high with one hand and their swords ready in the other.

"Strange smell" Abdul commented lifting his broad nose.

"I smell nothing" Salem replied. "That is precisely what worries me" the fat man said, "there is no sent of stale air or odor of any kind".

Strom had to admit that what the hefty trader said was true for the air was fresh and unfettered by decay and from that Salem surmised that there must be an opening somewhere that supplied the tunnel with fresh air.

Onward they walked turning this way and that and at every turn Malik marked the wall with a sign so they could find their way back, Aban and Ghazi kept a watchful eye in the gloomy corridor but they were always weary of what the next step might bring but the tunnel stayed as it was and soon Aban grew tired of the trek, "I see no gold" he said grumbling "we follow a trail that leads nowhere". And with the next step of the disgruntled grave robber a section of the floor under his feet suddenly gave way, dropping the lamp and his sword he tried desperately to hang on to the edge of the pit but the bit of rock in his hand gave way and with one frantic scream he fell headlong into the darkness below. Ghazi fared better for when the flooring fell away Salem quickly grasped him by the arm and pulled him back saving his life, but while other men would have been grateful Ghazi grunted once and said nothing more.

Abdul looked down into the pitfall and shook his head, "Pity, we could have used that extra lamp" he said coldly.

For moment it appeared that the intrepid band would have to turn back.

"What now?" ask the dull brained Ghazi.

But before an answer could be uttered a rumbling sound filled the darkened tunnel and with a heavy grinding sound the floor that had fallen away rose up and in a matter of moments it was if the pit had never been there.

"Diabolical" Salem said as he gazed at the restored smooth floor.

"Yes" Malick added, "the builders of the tomb were truly cunning, an unwary thief would die in the fall but then the floor would be remade and wait for some other luckless victim".

All this talk meant little to Ghazi for he was eager to fill his hands with gold, "so how do we get across?"

No one seemed to have an answer until Salem spoke up, "Jump" he said dryly.

"Jump?" the fat trader ask, "surly you can't expect someone like me to cross that waiting death?"

"I and Ghazi will go first then you" Salem replied.

"And how will that keep me safe?" Abdul voice grew angry.

Salem's words were reassuring "Ghazi and I will tie the rope around you so that if you fall we will pull you to safety".

It was a lucky break that Aban wasn't carrying the woven cable that Abdul so desperately needed but being wary of his comrades the trader hedged his bet on crossing alive.

"If you are thinking of leaving me behind, I would think again" he said narrowing his pig like eyes, "there are secrets still ahead, secrets that only I can reveal".

The idea of splitting the treasure two ways or perhaps one did enter Gharzi's small brain but it didn't find a home and left quickly, "I would never betray you great lord" the scared faced nomad lied.

Salem never underestimated Abduls cunning and he knew what a practiced liar he was but he was reluctant to take a chance on his intimidation words, "give me the rope" he said turning to Gharzi, and taking the heavy cord he wrapped it securely around the traders corpulent waist, and checking to see it was tight Salem moved back in the tunnel and motioned the others to move to one side, they made way for the white haired man and taking a deep breath Strom raced forward as fast as he could and leaped into the air sailing over the treacherous section of the passageway and landing hard on his feet.

Seeing that he was still alive gave courage to Ghazi and tossing Salem the glowing lamp the wily thief repeated the movements of his colleague and leaped over the dangerous stone to stand beside the man from the west.

Now it was Abduls time to risk his life and hoping to enhance his chances of survival he uttered a short prayer to Allah then bounded forward with all the strength in his chubby legs, but gravity was not his friend and he fell well short as the floor under him parted and screaming like a maiden on her wedding night he began to plummet downward, but a few seconds later the rope suddenly went taught and he hung their like a side of beef in a butcher shop.

"Help me!" he screamed clutching at the empty air.

It would have been an easy thing to let the rope slip from his fingers but for all of Salem's encounters with evil it didn't penetrate his heart and he couldn't let a helpless man fall to his death.

"Pull" Salem said to the man beside him.

And doing as he was told the thief pulled with all his might, it took two strong men to lift the Abduls heavy body but with some effort his round head came into view.

"Give me your hand" Strom said holding out one of his own.

With fear in his eyes the merchant put out his arm and grasping hard he was pulled to safety, he lay there for a moment or two bathed in sweat and uttering low prayers to Allah for sparing his life then he slowly rose up on his shaking feet, he gave no thanks to his companions but returned to his map and pondering it for a moment he nodded his turbaned head.

"Forward" he said, and with Ghazi once more leading the way the three intruders continued onward. The tunnel widened some and the scent of more fresh air filled the corridor, and along with the welcomed atmosphere came a faint light from ahead, seeing the dim glow the party quickened their steps and after a short time they came to a site that would have made any man stand and wonder.

They looked into a great chamber square at the base then moving up to a point at the top as if one was inside a prodigious pyramid, at the top were a series of small openings and glassed covered windows that allowed in the light and air but would be unobtainable from the outside with the smooth sides of the tomb. The walls were marble as was the floor and set with intricate designs of rare stones, in the middle directly under the panicle was a raised dais reaching up several meter with steps leading upward and at the top stood several large marble statues in the image of warriors but what dominated the podium was a magnificent carved jade coffin fashioned by such workmanship that it would be hard to match even today, around the base of the steps were two metal statues, huge scorpions as large as a man, they appeared to be made from silver inlaid with gold with large crystal eyes and a long articulated tails curving up and over the body and ending with a long dagger like stinger. But for all the splendor of the room one thing was missing, the reason that the long journey was undertaken in the first place, treasure.

Then Salem noticed something that the others missed in their greed for scattered about the chamber were bones, human bones, the remains of other who had entered the tomb no doubt but Strom said nothing to the others but made himself ready for what may come, the others were still fixated on the lack of wealth that they were expecting.

"Where is it?" Ghazi grumbled, "You said there would be gold but I see only an empty tomb". Abdul said nothing as his pig eyes scanned the contents of the chamber. "What trick is this?" shouted the angry Ghazi, "I risked my life for nothing!" Sensing something evil Salem whispered, "Wait".

But Ghazi didn't heed his waring and stepped forward and when he did the stone under his feet moved down a bit making a loud "click" and with that several other sounds began to resonate throughout the chamber and a panel behind them began to close quickly and before any of them could react they suddenly found themselves trapped inside the great tomb, for a moment the three robbers stood unmoving then their attention turned to the large silver scorpions for they were beginning to move.

At first Salem thought it was just a trick of the light then he watched as one of the great mechanical beasts head tilted to one side to gaze at them with its red eyes then its crystalline legs began to lift and move forward propelling the strange metal creature directly towards them.

"They live!" screamed Ghazi and seeing the creature heading right for him he desperately looked for a way out of the chamber but there was no exit and panic suddenly took hold of his weary mind and screaming he ran a fast as his shaking legs could carry him with one of the metallic monsters hot on his trail snapping its two huge claws together in a deadly castanet rattling.

At the same time the other silver scorpion rapidly made its way towards the other intruders, Abdul was no fighter and took refuse behind Salem praying that his bodyguard would indeed save his life, Strom didn't know what unholy forced propelled those monsters and he had no time to think on the matter before one of the metal demons came within his swords reach and lifting the mystic blade he brought it down with all his might on the head of the shining beast, with a loud "Clank" it reverberated off the metal plating leaving only a slight dent in the workmanship, Salem jump to one side and the fat merchant did the same so that the snapping claws of the monster missed them, then lifting themselves up they both sought some kind of shelter before they died in the metal talons of their pursuer.

Ghazi was having little luck evading his ghastly fate and shouting in terror he turned to face the metallic horror and with one last scream the silver beast seized him with one of his metal claws and lifting him high in the air the thing metal thing's tail shot over and the long dagger end embedded itself deep in the chest of the screaming man piercing his heart and killing him in an instant, then the huge claws tore him in two like a rag doll, sending the upper part of the body one way and the legs in another spraying blood everywhere, and with the humans death the demon scorpion turned to the remaining intruders.

Even if they wanted to Salem and Abdul had no time to lament the loss of their companion for the two silver monsters were gaining on them filling the air with the sound of their deadly clicking claws and the relentless scrapping of their metallic legs on the stone floor.

Abdul's strength was beginning to wane and soon his fat legs would betray him to the oncoming death, but Salem still possessed a gentleman's sense of honor and would try his best to save the life of his companion no matter what the cost. Seeing that running was useless Strom made his way to the dais and began to climb upwards pulling the fat merchant behind him like a bag of potatoes, up, up they moved, step after step with the relentless silver deaths right behind them.

Reaching the top Abdul collapsed and lay there breathing heavily, Salem gripped his sword and prepared to make a last stand.

"Come and get me!" he shouted and braced his feet, his sword at the ready, then one of the large marble statues caught his eye and thinking quickly he dropped his blade and placed his hands on the cold stone and began to push with all his might, his arm muscles bulged and his back felt like it was going to break but grinding his teeth he summoned up all his remaining strength in one last effort, with a low rumble the statue began to move, again Salem pushed, his efforts were rewarded for the stone image toppled over and with a great rumble it fell headlong down the steps directly at the two metal creatures. With a loud "CRASH!" the heavy statuette smashed into the first monster, crushing in its head and causing it to spin around and around on the steps, out of control it seized the other of its kind in its cracking claws as if it was an enemy and the battle was on, the other metallic beast fought back grasping its attacker in a dance of death and losing their footing on the smooth steps the two fell tail over claw down the footholds until they reached the bottom where they broke into fragments, the dislocated claws opened and closed in a desperate effort to continue the fight then stopped and with a last clicking sound the two unholy creatures moved no more.

Salem stood there for a moment or two before taking up his sword once more and gazing about for any further horrors to show themselves, at the same time Abduls began to regain his strength and sitting up he too looked for danger and seeing that there was none he slowly rose on his sandaled feet and stood beside Strom.

"It seems the Allah was looking kindly on us today" he said with a short smile.

Salem had no interest in gods but he had seen demons so perhaps there was some light to the darkness that surrounded him. After checking to make sure that he was indeed alive and without wounds the fat merchant turned his attention to the jade coffin before him, being closer now he could see the intricate detail and care that must have gone into such a magnificent work of art, the coffin was surely worth a great fortune if it could be moved but that would mean tearing down the great pyramid and that would be impossible to someone like himself.

"what power Tosh-Ba-Call must have possessed to have fashioned such a resting place for himself' he ran his fat fingers over the lid feeling the cold stone, "imagine what treasure must be inside". Ghazi hands searched for way to lift the heavy lid and at last saw that a small crack separated the heavy cover from the rest of the sepulcher, "here place your sword between the two and see if you and lift the top" he said turning to Salem.

Strom could see what he was aiming at and taking his blade he forced the tip into the stone and began to lift with all his strength, a first there was nothing and it seemed that they had come a long way for nothing, then strangely the lid began to move as if by itself, more metal sounds and the grinding of wheels and Salem stood back and watched at the great lid turned upon it axis and then stopped.

The two grave robbers were hesitant to look inside expecting some great evil to suddenly lurch out at them and drag their souls to hell, this of course meant nothing to Salem having been there already but Abdul expected to live a long and wealthy life but his greed got the better of him and he moved forward to gaze into the jade resting place.

Inside lay a withered corpse of a man, shrunken and dry like weathered leather, he was dressed from head to toe in what must have been fine garments of gold thread but now brittle with age and would surely crumble with the slightest touch, his skull like face was empty of eyes and his cracked lips were drawn back in a ghastly smile, his hands were drawn over his chest and one claw finger held a large ring of strange workmanship, it resembled a serpent with an open mouth and ruby eyes, clutched tightly in those dead hands was a parchment tied with a silver cord, but nothing else, no gold coin or jewelry, or crown of kings, just an old man laying at rest.

"What madness is this?" Ghazi grumbled, "where is your wealth old man, you were a favorite of great Alexander, the ruler of the world where did you hide your rewards?" then the parchment caught his eye and thinking it might be a map to the lost treasure the merchant reached down to take it from the lifeless hands, when it did one of his fat fingers grazed the serpent ring and was inflicted with a slight prick, "Ouch" Ghazi cried then pried the scroll from its dead owner, the cord fell away and Abdul carefully unrolled the antique writings, he stood there for a moment with his lips moving silently then lowering the brown paper he began to laugh, and he continued to laugh until his booming voice echoed throughout the chamber.

Salem could see the look of madness in his eyes and put his hand on his sword hilt sensing that he might be attacked but the fat merchant only stared at him with vacant eyes.

"A jest" he smiled, "a jest of the gods!" more laughter.

"A jest?" Salem asked.

"Yes" Abdul replied, "A jest that Allah himself is playing on me, this writing is in ancient Greek a language that I learned in my efforts to find this tomb, it reads, "The man who holds this shall be denied nothing" and again he began to laugh as if possessed by a demon.

At first Strom didn't understand then the truth began to form in his mind, this writing would be all that a man would ever need for no one would go against the orders of Alexander he would merely have to show this paper and anything he wished would be granted, no need for money or wealth of any kind, the man who possessed this would have the world, but that was ages ago and Alexander the Great is long dead and all his power is gone, a jest indeed.

"A lifetime I searched" Abdul laughed, "and now my search is done and what do I have for my efforts, an old parchment" and once more his laughed was filled with insanity then suddenly his face turned pale and he clutched the hand that touch the serpent ring, "Fire" he cried, "it burns like fire!" the fat man fell to his knees as his arm went stiff as if held by an unseen force, "the ring, the ring held death!"

Salem knew that there was nothing he could do now, the ring held poison and now it was doing its work he watched as the hand turned a sickly green and that horrid hue began to run up the man's arm and into his face till it reached his mind where it erased all memory and life, Abdul Ghazi life was at an end as his clenched fist held onto the now worthless treasure, he slumped over and lay still as greenish foam dripped slowly from his contorted lips.

Strom stood there looking down on the dead man and he wondered what fate was in store for him, would he rise from the darkness like he had done so many times before or was there a golden paradise waiting for wily robbers where they would spend eternity drinking and bragging about their lawless adventures, Salem didn't know and now he was trapped inside an ancient tomb where he would die and then live again, over and over until the end of time itself, but if this was to be his everlasting home he would perform one last act of atonement, he pried the parchment from Abduls fist and placed it back into the empty hands of the old man.

"Here ancient one" Strom said with a smile, "it looks like you and I will have much to talk about in the years ahead".

But then a strange thing happened, the lid began to close with a slow grinding sound and when the jade coffin was once again whole the panel that closed the tunnel to the chamber slowly opened revealing a way out.

How all this was accomplished Salem didn't know, perhaps it was a reward for returning what was not his or maybe it was simply a way to lure more victims to their deaths but before fate or the tomb changed its mind Salem ran from the chamber, through the tunnels as they began to close in behind him, he desperately looked for the markings that would led him to safety but there was no time so he just trusted in fate and ran as fast as his strong legs would carry him.

Once or twice he was almost crushed between moving walls of rock but he managed to escape and seeing light in front of him he summoned up the last of his strength and leaping through the open portal he found himself outside in the cool night air, he lay there for a while as the tomb closed up as before then he rose and

mounted one of the still waiting camels and rode away as fast as he could from the tomb of Tosh Ba-Call.

Chapter 11.

The Valley of the Kings.

"It is a fair price, take it or go away" the wily fat camel trader said as he stroked his raven black beard.

The man he spoke to was far different in appearance, while the merchant was fat and short the other man was tall and well built, the trader had dark skin and hair while the others complexion was pale and his hair the color of milk.

"I will take what you offer" Salem Strom said holding out his hand.

The Traders who name was Eban hesitated for a moment for the man he purchased the camels from bore a strange scar on his pale face but unwilling to pass by a bargain he took the man's hand in his, and they shook after which he started to count out the money they had agreed on.

"You are not from our lands are you?" asked Eban unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

"No" replied the stranger, "I'm from America, Kentucky to be precise".

The Merchant had no idea where the land of Kentucky lay but didn't want to betray his ignorance, "let Allah guide you home" he said gesturing with his hands in the manner of his people.

Salem smiled and walked away with the gold coins in his hand, when he first escaped the Tomb of Tosh Ba-Call he had only one camel but it proved to be a sturdy one and carried him across many miles of sand and rock and with the supplies carried by the beast he was able to obtain enough food and water as he headed westward, the other camels were what remained of a group of desert bandits that thought they had stumbled across a lone traveler who they could rob and kill without loss of life on their end but they were soon wishing they had never seen the white haired stranger for his flashing sword proved too much for them and they died one by one, and seeing that their camels would bring a good price Strom proceeded to herd them towards his destination. That proved a bit of a struggle for the Southerner was used to well behave cows on his father's farm and not these unruly spitting devils, but he pressed on and losing only one of his prizes he managed to reach the great city of Cairo.

Cairo, say the name and all manner of images spring to mind, a place of wonder and delight filled with ancient mystery and a crossroads of the world, a city bursting with all the desires any man could wish for but also a place of danger to any foreigner but Salem managed to blend in for he was dressed as any Bedouin would be, a Tob around his body, covered by a Kibr and a Kufeya for a head covering, the only way to know he was not one of the many tribes of that part of the world was his pale skin and white hair but with the Kufeya pulled low over his scared face no one would take him for an outsider.

Strom carried his mystic sword with him attached to a his wide leather belt and the gold coins were safely held in an ornate leather pouch, he had come to realize that the sword and he were one, and being without it was something that he would never except, when he held it in his hand it became him and he became the sword, it was a feeling that would never be understood by a true living person but having died then brought back to life again did give one a certain understanding of dark powers.

For some time Salem wandered the many small crowded avenues and dim alleyways of Cairo listening to strange music and filling his nostrils with the pungent odors of spiced meats and heady wine, he stood and wondered at the site of a man playing on a flute to a serpent that rose up from a wicker basket? Strom had often seen scaled rattlers and other venomous vipers back home on his father's plantation and now and then even eaten them in meals prepared by their cook, he also remembered the time he had fought the demon God Damballa but he never thought he would witness a soft melody played to a willing snake.

Everywhere he looked his eyes were filled with brilliant colors, red, blue, greens, now and then he beheld the dark eyes of ladies passing by and knew that they surly possessed soft brown bodies underneath the many layers of clothing but being a gentleman of the south he didn't intruded on their garment solitude but he did put his hand to his head as if tipping his hat of old and so he walked on not certain of just what he was going to do next? How many years had it been since he was a young eager soldier fighting for his land, had it been really thirty years ago? Yet he still looked the same, time meant nothing to him now, dying and rising up again over and over made it so time itself melted away into nothingness, a few more years and a new century would begin, would that new era bring an end to his existence? He knew he must find Old Ben the man who returned him from the dead but how? Where would he search? What part of the earth did the witch man call home? Had the long years ended his life? These were questions that seemed to have no answers but in the meantime, he would wander and let fate guide his path and right now that path led him to a place where he hoped he could obtain a drink or two and perhaps calm the thoughts in his tired head. The establishment that the weary Strom had wandered into was not owned by any local merchants for the religion of the Bedouins forbid the drinking of alcohol at least in public, it was a neatly cared for place with a sign that read.

The Winsor Inn

And hearing words that he recognized as English resonating from within he decided to venture inside.

"We don't serve your kind here" a gruff voice laced with a thick cockney accent said as Salem took a step inside the entrance and stood surveying the crowed surroundings, the man who spoke was tall and heavily built with a reddish complexion and small pig like, his hefty bulk was covered by a British soldiers uniform, "it's best you leave now before there is trouble".

Salem was not a man who sought out trouble, but it always seemed to find him, "My kind?" Strom asked pulling back the dusty hood of his Kufeya and showing the man his pale skin and white hair.

"Oh sorry governor" the big man said changing his face from sour to sweet, "didn't know you were not one of them, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"Food and drink, if you have them?"

"Right this way" was the reply.

The big man led him to a small table where another man was sitting, "fraid we're a bit crowed today sir but if you don't mind sharing a table...?"

Salem shook his head and sat down.

"I fetch you a nice gin and tonic and some vitals if that's alright with you?"

Again Salem nodded in approval so the big man left leaving Strom gazing at the man sitting across from him, the fellow was young, perhaps in his late teens dressed in a clean tweet suit and vest, he had dark hair and eyes and a neatly trimmed mustache but he never look up from the scattering of books and papers that littered the table, the man seemed to be deep in thought as he ran his thin fingers over the old leather bound book he was reading.

Salem sat there for a time not knowing if he should interrupt the deep thinking of the man or not? Then the young man looked up from his book.

"You don't happen to read French to you? He suddenly asked paying no heed to the other man's pale face and white hair.

Salem had gone to the finest schools in Kentucky but sadly didn't pay attention when the subject of the teacher turned to far away languages, "sorry no" he replied.

The young man shook his head, "pity, I'm trying to understand this remark about what the ancient Egyptians did with their dead but frankly I'm having a duce of a time".

The word "dead" perked up Strom's ears, "I suppose they buried them like anyone else or put them in a tomb guarded by all sort of dark forces and diabolical mechanical devises." He said with the adventure in the tomb of Tosh Ba-Call still fresh in his mind.

Hearing this rather unsavory remark about dark forces made the young man smile, "Oh I hardly think they did that but their practices of embalming were remarkable, and their belief in rising up again after you're dead is quite fascinating."

Hearing the young man mention living again made Strom lean closer over the oaken table, "what do you know about returning from the dead?" he asked eagerly.

The young man leaned back in his chair, "well it was a central part of the religion of the ancient Egyptians, they believed that if you lived a good life and your heart was pure you would live again in an afterlife after you were subjected to many different trails, I find it fascinating but perhaps such strange rituals wouldn't appeal to you?"

"On the contrary" Salem said with a smile "I find the whole subject very interesting, what else can you tell me?"

"Well the ancient kings, Pharaohs they called them ruled as gods and when they died they were embalmed and placed in great tombs while others were sealed up in elaborate underground crypts in the Valley of the Kings."

"The Valley of the Kings?" Salem asked, "Where might that be?"

"Oh that's far up the Nile, I hope to go there someday and maybe dig for treasure and science" he replied then he glanced at his pocket watch, "Good lord is that the time, sorry old man but I have to run, good luck to you".

And gathering up his books and paper the young man hurried out leaving Strom alone with his thoughts.

After a few moments the big man returned with a nice gin and tonic and a warm plate of food, "here you go governor", setting the warm drink and warmer plate of food on the table, "is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes" Salem replied, "Do you know where I can hire a boat?"

The journey from Cairo to the Valley of the Kings was indeed a long one, Salem had to find a boat that would carry him up the Nile a very long way for the valley he was seeking was not a place that careful men ventured, it lay far beyond any form of law and it was frequented by robbers and others hoping to find some artifact that they could sell to the eager British merchants and scholars who would either study them or ship them off to rich patrons who would put them in their finely furnished estates to show what an cultured person they were. But after searching the cluttered docks Strom found what he was looking for a strongly built craft with a crew that wouldn't ask to many questions and paid them what they were asking for passage, so for several days and night the boat slowly made its way up river without incident and for all of Salem's strange looks they were glad that he was with them for his pistols, rifle and sword would be of use in a fight for they only possessed old mussel loaders and ancient knives for protection, it took most of Strom's money that he received from the camel merchant to purchase a well-made pistol, it wasn't an American made colt that he hoped to find but never the less it was a good one made by skilled craftsmen, he did have better luck with the rifle for he managed to acquire a Winchester repeater and a goodly amount of ammunition, it cost him the remainder of his coins but it was worth it, so well-armed but now penniless he helped with the boat and made himself useful but after several more day the curiosity of the captain of the boat who name was Al-Alen got the better of him so as they set the anchor and settled back eating dried camel meat, figs and drinking sour wine under a star filled sky the captain finally spoke what was pressing on his mind.

"Why is your hair and face the color of camel's milk?" he asked in his native tongue.

Salem had become rather fluent in Arabic over the past months, so he had no problem understanding exactly what the man was asking, "I have walked in dark places out of the sun" was his only reply.

Al-Alen was a tall but thinly made man with a short beard and penetrating eyes and he knew when to stop asking of a man who would rather not speak of certain things, "I prefer the sun and leave the night to dreaming", like his passenger Al-Alen was a man of few words, he was the son a boatman as was his father before him, a mostly honest man by nature never the less he wasn't adverse to dealing in stolen goods or transporting fugitives from one place to another if the price was right, but why a man would ask to be taken to the far away Valley was beyond him for it knew that most of the treasure had be taken long ago and only rock and sand remained.

Along with the captain there were three other crewmen, Faraj, a large man with a strong back and a love of drink, he spent most of his time on the river in a vain effort to put as much space between him and his wife who was always pointing out his shortcoming as any good wife would, there was also Harun an older man with a thin but surprisingly strong body who was very accomplished at storytelling, some said that he was a scholar of sorts but preferred the simple life of a boatman rather than argue about the nature of man and his place in the universe, and lastly there was Hashim a handsome young man barely out of his teens who was always speaking of women he had met or hope too, they all had managed to eke out a living hauling cargo up and down the Nile but like their captain they weren't adverse to a bit of grave robbing or dealing in stolen artifacts. Hearing that they were heading for the Valley of the Kings was all that Salem needed to join their quest.

"Tell me Salum" Hashim said for that is what they called him, "do the ladies of your land also have hair of white?"

"No" Salem replied, where I come from their hair is all colors, black, brown, honey and red".

Hashim imagined ladies with hair the colors of a fine carpet and it made his heart stir, "someday I will have many wives each with a different color hair and they will come when I call them and kiss me with eager lips".

Karaj grumbled in this throat at hearing those words, "I had a wife once but left her when she started rationing my beer", and he took a deep draft from a wine jug held firmly by his thick fingers.

Now it was Harun's turn to speak up, "it is said that four wives are best".

"Four wives?" Salem asked picking at his food.

Harum smiled at the question, "one wife is obviously not enough for one man, but two wives with always be quarreling, three wives are no better for two will join together against the first so four wives make for a happy home".

"Then you have four wives?" replied Strom.

"No" the old man said shaking his head, "my wife wouldn't permit it".

Salem thought it over for a moment or two then began to laugh and soon he was joined by his companions for they understood that it was all too true.

For several days and nights the study boat moved up the Nile, passed the cities of Asyut, Sohag and Onea stopping only now and then to take on water or upload boxes meant for that port city, there was a bit of trouble at Onea for it seems that Hashim cast an eye to a lady that had already been spoken for and when confronted by the angry husband Salem had to come to his aid and after a brief but intense struggle he managed to drag the young crewman back to the boat where Hashim licked his wounds and vowed revenge someday, the others had a laugh for they had heard these words many times before and never had the young man carried out his threats.

Along the way Salem marveled at the many river folk and how they went about their daily rituals without concern for the days past or the days ahead, their lives here and now was all that mattered to them and they did what was necessary to survive. Death was always present but they chose to ignore it but Strom knew that it was hovering just beyond the light and eager to take them at any moment.

Besides the men and women along the great river Salem saw huge Crocodiles the likes he's never seen before, he was use to the large alligators of his home but these were surely monsters fit for only nightmares.

"They were once gods" Al-Alen said pointing to a very large reptile sunning himself of the water edge, "my people use to worship them but now they are only fit for making carry bags and other items for the wealthy of other lands".

"Gods come and go" Harun added, "only the river remains".

At last they came to the bank with a path that lead to the Valley of the Kings, all about were the half sunken remains of other Nile boats and had reached their goal and then remained there, a wooden dock of sorts jutted out from the sandy shore and provided a welcomed place to tie up for a time. There was an abundance of papyrus plants and water lilies near the water's edge they were the home for a few egrets and other water fowl.

As soon as Salem placed his booted foot on the sand a strange feeling ran through his body, it wasn't something that could be told to another for it could only be felt by someone who had walked in the dark corridors of the Afterlife, it was a cold wind that only he could feel and placing his hand on his sword only made the sensation more intense, he seemed to hear a voice in his head, far away voices calling out over time and space, the voices of the dead.

"Something troubles you my friend?" asked Al-Alen seeing the look on the tall man's face.

"It's nothing" Strom replied after a moment or two, "just the wind I think".

But there was no wind, only the sun, sand and the valley that lay before them but the captain didn't correct his friend for he had seen that faraway look in his eyes before and a wise man knew that some men have secrets better left to themselves.

Hashim took one look at the barren landscape and shook his head, "sand and heat, that is the lot of a poor man, it is the rich who live in coolness surrounded by warm ladies".

And as usual Faraj added his own feeling to the conversation, "we're running low on beer" he grumbled as he started to unload supplies from the boat.

Across the river lay the remains of the once great city of Thebes where a few still lived eking out a living by supplying boats and trading in merger goods.

"well my friend" Al-Alen said scanning his dark eyes over the vale ahead, "here is where you wished to be taken and here we are, there are two valleys before us, the one to the west has a great temple to a long forgotten King, there is no gold there for I have seen it many times, the valley to the east is filled with tombs that have been plundered over the ages but one can still finds a small relic here and there that will bring a good price in Cairo but you must be careful for it also the home of many thieves that do not fear Allah like I do", he hoped that his words would discourage his companion from going any further but it was not to be.

Salem stood looking at the rocky landscape and once more he heard the strange voices calling out to him, "we will go to the east" he said and started to walk forward but was stopped by the old man.

"It is best to wait until dark" Harun said with a smile, "harder for prying eyes to notice us and easier to hide in the shadows".

So the would be trespassers waited till the cool of the evening and watched as their tall companion readied his weapons as they ate a small meal of the same food that they had be feasting on since the journey began, for a long time young Hashim admired the richly decorated sword that Salem carried and when it lay near him he began to reach out to touch it but Strom notice his interest.

"Don't' touch that!" he suddenly shouted causing the others in the group to stop there eating and stare at him wondering what he might do next?

After a moment or two Salem regained his composer and spoke more gently to the young man, "I'm sorry but you must never touch the sword it will...." But his voice trailed off.

After a few moments more Hashim replied, "I meant no harm I just wanted to know what a great sword felt like".

But Salem said nothing and continued to load fresh bullets into his Winchester, then it was Harun's time to speak, "it is said that each sword carries the soul of the one who wields it".

This made Salem stop what he was doing and pick up the sword, unsheathe it and hold it up to the moonlight, but how could he tell them that he had no soul, that he was a dead man who walks, what would they say then, would the run in fear or try to kill him? "It's just a sword" he finally said but he knew that his words were a lie.

A short time later five men began the long trek to the ancient Valley of the Kings, the worn path was rocky for it had taken the footprints of countless ages as men from all corners of the world gathered seeking treasure and wisdom, here and there huge boulders lay buried in the sand like silent guardians and on either side steep cliffs of weathered sandstone and rock rose up closing them in like stony hands and above them the full moon cast an eerie glow over the land casting long gloomy shadows and making everyday objects into bizarre phantoms of the night. Now and then in the distance a jackal could be heard calling out to the stars while on the wind there was a slight fragrance of rotting waterlilies mixed with sand and something else, perhaps death?

That strange feeling of death was felt by the crewmen but not wanting to appear weak they didn't speak of it but kept their knives and mussel loading weapons at the ready, on the other hand Salem never felt more a home.

The wind, the rocks the primitive surroundings seems to fill him with a serine calmness unlike anything he had felt before and with each step he felt the he was somehow returning home? Once again he heard the strange voices in his head but now he began to understand some of the words they were speaking, "he comes" a disembodied voice whispered, "the one we waited for" murmured another phantom.

"Who's there?" Salem suddenly blurted out causing his companions to stop in their traces.

"Who are you speaking to?" Al-Alen asked tilting his turbaned head to one side.

But before Strom could answer the ground under their feet began to shake and an instant later the sand under Faraj's feet gave way like quicksand and he rapidly began to sink. "HELP ME!" he called out as the sand reached his ample waist and tossing away his rifle, he desperately reached out with his large hand hoping for a handhold or someone to come to his rescue.

Tossing away his rifle Salem leaped forward and grasping the man's hand with his, he pulled with all his might but it wasn't enough, it felt like an irresistible force was pulling the big man to his inevitable doom and after a few more moments Strom lost his grip and Faraj disappeared under the sand.

It all happened so quickly that the others had no time to react now they simple stared in disbelief at the ground where a few moments before their friend had been standing.

"The earth just swallowed him up" exclaimed a very frightened Hashim, "this land is cursed!" "Calm yourself" Hl-Alen said in a soft voice, "Allah decreed that his time had come".

Old Harun seemed to have a different opinion, "there are undiscovered tombs under the sand perhaps Hashim as fallen into a chamber filled with honey wine?" this idea seemed to appease the others. The captain began to take stock of their supplies, "either way he is gone now and we cannot bring him back so let us continue and later we will say a prayer for his soul".

Salem wondered if anyone had done the same for him?

The motley group continued under the watchful eye of the eternal moon and ventured further in to the haunted valley, in the dim light Salem could make out signs of other adventurers who had come seeking treasure and perhaps they found it. There were also marks of conflicts with sun bleached bones and remnants of clothing scattered about along with broken baskets and cast off digging tools.

"Let us hope we don't end up the same" Al-Alen said pointing to a half buried skeleton in the sand. To be honest Al-Alen had considered killing the tall stranger but he knew that he wouldn't go down without a fight and thinking he might be one of the victims he drove the idea out of his head and hoped that soon the white haired man would see that there was little to be gained by coming here and wisely return to the boat.

"You see my friend" the captain said with a smile, "there is nothing here just rock and sand".

He told the truth for any man could see that it was an empty valley and nothing more but as Salem looked out over the steep walled valley and the mounts of earth that had been taken from one place and put in another he again heard the voices calling out to him.

"You have come to us" whispered the wind.

"You have come and we are waiting"

"This is the place of the dead, this is where you belong".

Salem gripped his rifle and waited and as he did the wind began to blow, gently at first but with each passing second it grew and grew.

"What has called up the wind?" Al-Alen asked covering his eyes with the back of his hand.

"The wind come when it is ready" replied Harun lifting his Kibr to shield his wrinkled face. A strong gust pounded the face of Hashim, "I will not stay here" and he began to turn to run when another blast of wind and sand sent him tumbling to the ground. "What is happening?" Al-Alen shouted. Salem said nothing but watched at strange figures began to form in the whirling wind, at first they appeared as dark apparitions devoid of matter but then they congealed into what appeared to be tall men but these had the heads of animals, a jackal, hawk, crocodile, bull and bird, they wore golden armor and carried ancient weapons in their hands, they stood there unmoving like bronzed statues as the wind continued to howl.

"Allah help us" whispered the captain.

"The gods, the gods have come to punish us!" the old man called out.

Hashim was too frightened to say anything and lay on the ground whimpering like a beaten dog.

Salem stood his ground holding his rifle tightly but what good an earthly weapon would do against long forgotten gods he didn't know but he had faced terrors before and would not turn coward now.

"What do you want?" Strom called out above the wind.

The reply was quick in coming.

"Your souls".

And with that oath the apparitions raced forward screaming like demons from hell.

Salem lifted his rifle and fired shot after shot, his actions spurred the others to take up their arms and follow suit but their bullets had no effect on the ghastly creatures and they continued forward without stopping.

Salem tossed away his useless rifle and drew his sword, he set his feet on the rocky ground and waited, he didn't have to wait long, the first of the beings lifted its bronze ax to strike him but Strom was faster and swinging his blade in a high ark he sliced into the thick body of the beast and cut it in two, the jackal headed warrior howled once then disappeared into the wind.

The others didn't fare as well for their guns and knives were useless before the hell spawn, the first to go down was Al-Alen but much had to be said about his bravery for he didn't run or show fear of any kind he simple smiled as if he knew his time had come and leaping forward he tried to drive his long curved dagger into the demon before him but it passed through like a hot knife in butter and then he fell to the ground dead.

Seeing it was useless fighting Harun dropped his gun and spread his thin arms and uttered a short prayer to Allah before he met the same fate.

Sadly, young Hashim's met his fate laying on the ground and calling out to his mother to save him for in the end it seems that the man was still just a boy and they always seek out the one who gave them birth.

Salem had no time to lament the end of his comrades for wave after wave of beast faced warriors rampaged against him, he swung his mystic blade with all the power in his arm, his breath came in hot gasps as he squinted his eyes and clenched his teeth, his body was bleeding from numerous cuts and scratches inflicted by weapons cuts or the sharp teeth and claws of the demons he faced, with each swing of his sword a beast man crumbled to dust then vanished in the wind but it was quickly replaced by yet another and then another, Salem soon realized that he was doomed and even with his curse of rising up from yet another death he wasn't sure if dying by the hands of gods would end his existence once and for all? But as he reached the end of his strength he suddenly heard a voice call out.

"Be gone!" it said.

Salem wasn't sure if it was just another threat aimed at him or a trick of the sand storm but a moment later he saw that he was mistaken for the hideous creatures halted their attack and slowly vanished into the churning air leaving nothing to mark their passing except the dead bodies of three boatmen, then as he stood drawing in long gasps of air and shaking the blood and sweat from his eyes the wind subsided and after a few seconds all was quiet again and the moon once more shown like a pale beacon over the still landscape.

As his vison cleared Strom saw a tall figure coming towards him, perhaps six feet in height but he walked with a limp and his frame was thin, as the apparition came closer Salem could make out more of his features, his whole body was absent of hair and a reddish color, his eyes were dark and penetrating and around his throat ran a wide neckless of gold and jewels, his finger were adorned with rings of gold and about his waist was a magnificent belt holding a fine linen cloth that covered his upper legs, Strom held his sword at the ready in case this harmless looking young man suddenly changed into another demon of the night, the figure moved close to him then stopped a few feet away and stared at him intensely. Strom watched his every movement ready to strike if necessary, but the figure stood unmoving.

It was Salem who spoke first "if you've come to kill me then strike and we shall see who the better is".

But the young man shook his bald head, "I know you are dead already so there would be little use in trying to kill you again".

Hearing the words from the young man Salem suddenly realized that he was speaking English and not the native tongue of the Bedouin that he and conversed in for so long.

"How is it that you speak my language" he asked still holding his sword at the ready.

"I am not speaking in your tongue nor are you speaking in mine, I am dead like you so we commune in the words of the dead" was the reply.

It seemed to Salem a strange reply yet here he was talking to a man risen from the dust so he accepted the explanation as true.

"Then I will ask you, was it you who sent those beast men to kill my friends?"

"No" the man said, "they are the guardians of the tombs but their power was weak until your presence awoke them once more, they feast on the dead".

"Then it was I who killed my companions?" Salem lowered his blade at the realization that he was responsible for his companion's grisly fate.

"Yes" the young man replied as he slowly moved to a rock nearby and sat down, "here is where the great kings were buried, their tombs were cut into the rock and covered by the sand but over time their rest was invaded and all the wealth they had taken with them was stolen, such is the way of time, all things are fleeting and gold and silver only sand under one's feet, I am sorry your companions were killed but I will see that their souls are set along the path to the Afterlife.

"The Afterlife?" Salem ask as he too sat down on the rock but still holding his sword.

"My people believed there was another life after death as did I" the club footed man said looking up at the night sky, "but I was denied that life by the gods for I had no heart".

"Your heart was stolen?"

" When a great man such as I died his body was taken to a place where they prepared you for your journey into the afterlife, your organs were removed and placed in magic jars, your body mummified in secret ways so that you might walk and talk as you did in your first life, but your heart was placed back into your body to be judged by Osiris the god of the underworld, and if he deemed it worthy you passed over into eternal life, but my heart was not buried with me so when I stood before the great one he sent me back to wander this world forever, and so I did" His voice turned solemn and a look of deep sadness fell over his face.

"I saw my once great Egypt crumble into ruins, I witnessed the rise of other great powers who plundered my land of its glory and monuments to make themselves mighty, I heard my name being spoken less and less until it vanished from the words of men, all that I did, all that I was, gone, I am forgotten now, my statues broken, my image removed from all testaments, I was once worshiped as a god, I ruled the earth and now I am nothing".

The young man bent his head and Salem could hear his weeping softly and for all his anger at seeing his friends die he felt pity for this forgotten man.

"I am only a dead man who walks the earth like you" Salem said, "my story will not be told and I will also be forgotten, that makes us brothers".

Hearing those words the young man lifted his head and rose up "then come with me, share my tomb and together we can talk of better times and I will show you all the grandeur that was once mine".

And he lifted his arms and the night sky filled with images of great temples shinning strong and fresh under a burning sky, a vast gathering of white robed worshipers laying armfuls of bright flower before silent statures of their gods, huge armies of warriors marching to far off lands where they conquered and returned baring untold riches for their king, white sailed ships filled with pungent spices and rare gifts of gold and ivory from lesser kings as tribute, a world unknown to a man today, a world where that stirred the heart of even a dead man.

"Your world is not mine" Salem said softly.

The images slowly vanished until only the moon and star's remained.

"I understand" the young man said then turned as if he heard a voice, "I must go now for the dead call me and I must answer so I wish you farewell".

Salem also rose up and smiled at his strange companion, "I will remember you and maybe someday others will also".

This brought a smile to the young man's lips, "that would ease my suffering knowing that I was not forgotten and the name Tutanhamun was not lost to the ages". And so he turned and walked away and Salem saw him vanish into nothingness.

Salem buried his companions in the Valley of the Kings and placed a rifle on the grave of Al-Alen's for a brave man needs his weapon, on the mount of sand that covered Harun Strom put a bit of broken sandstone baring strange markings he found in the sand for he knew that the old man would find it interesting, he placed a hand full of lotus flowers he gathered from the Nile waters on Hashim's resting place in case he should meet a lovely lady in the world beyond, and poor Faraj was not forgotten for Salem set a jug of sour beer on the place where he disappeared.

When all was done Strom set out on the long voyage down the Nile and luck was with him for he managed make it back to Cairo and even to the little shop where he had started his quest so many days ago and to his surprise the young man who had first told him about the Valley of the Kings was sitting once again at a table reading a thick leather bond book so Salem walked over to him and sat down.

After a moment or two the young man lifted his head and looked across the table.

"I know you, don't I?" he asked narrowing his eyes a bit, "yes, you're the man who asked about the Valley of the Kings".

"Yes" Salem replied nodding his head and smiling, "I have recently returned from there".

Hearing this the young man instantly put down his book and all his attention was riveted on the stranger, "tell me what you found, were there any signs of recent digging or perhaps you found a piece of pottery or some other interesting artifact?"

"No nothing" replied Salem but I did hear a name being spoken, Tutanhamun".

Hearing the name the young man's eyes grew wide, "Tutanhamum you say?"

"Yes, does it mean anything to you?" Salem replied.

The young man whose name was Howard Carter smiled.

Epilogue.

There are many more adventures facing Salem Strom for the lands of the Mediterranean and all of Europe lay before him but those are tales for another time.

