RATTLE of BONES BY ROBERT E HOWARD [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Weird Tales June 1929. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "Landlord, ho!" The shout broke the lowering silence and reverberated through the black forest with sinister echoing. "This place hath a forbidding aspect, meseemeth." Two men stood in front of the forest tavern. The building was low, long and rambling, built of heavy logs. Its small windows were heavily barred and the door was closed. Above the door its sinister sign showed faintly—a cleft skull. This door swung slowly open and a bearded face peered out. The owner of the face stepped back and motioned his guests to enter—with a grudging gesture it seemed. A candle gleamed on a table; a flame smoldered in the fireplace. "Your names?" "Solomon Kane," said the taller man briefly. "Gaston l'Armon," the other spoke curtly. "But what is that to you?" "Strangers are few in the Black Forest," grunted the host, "bandits many. Sit at yonder table and I will bring food." The two men sat down, with the bearing of men who have traveled far. One was a tall gaunt man, clad in a featherless hat and somber black garments, which set off the dark pallor of his forbidding face. The other was of a different type entirely, bedecked with lace and plumes, although his finery was somewhat stained from travel. He was handsome in a bold way, and his restless eyes shifted from side to side, never still an instant. The host brought wine and food to the rough-hewn table and then stood back in the shadows, like a somber image. His features, now receding into vagueness, now luridly etched in the firelight as it leaped and flickered, were masked in a beard which seemed almost animal-like in thickness. A great nose curved above this beard and two small red eyes stared unblinkingly at his guests. "Who are you?" suddenly asked the younger man. "I am the host of the Cleft Skull Tavern," sullenly replied the other. His tone seemed to challenge his