Under the Witches' Moon 32 – Gallizier · Verses Across
Literature · Historical Fiction
Under the Witches' Moon 32Book the Third · Devil Worship
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Literature · Historical Fiction
Under the Witches' Moon 32
Book the Third · Devil Worship
GallizierEnglish
The dawn of the following day brought in its wake consternation and terror. From the churches of the two Egyptian Martyrs, Sts. Cosmas and Damian, the Holy Host had been taken during the preceding night. Frightened beyond measure, the ministering priests had suffered the terrible secret to leak out, and this circumstance, coupled with the unexplained absence of the Senator, the tardiness of the Prefect to start his investigations, and the captivity of the Pontiff, threw the Romans into a panic. It was impossible to guard every church in Rome against a similar outrage, as the guards of the Senator were inadequate in number, and, consisting chiefly of foreign elements, could not be relied upon.
The early hours of the morning found Tristan in the hermitage of Odo of Cluny. To him he confided the incidents of the night and his adventure in the Catacombs. To him he also imparted the terrible discovery he had made.
Odo of Cluny listened in silence, his face betraying no sign of the emotion he felt. When Tristan had concluded his account he regarded him long and earnestly.
"I, too, have long known that all is not well, that there is something brewing in this witches' cauldron which may not stand the light of day.--"
"But what is it?" cried Tristan. "Tell me, Father, for a great fear as of some horrible danger is upon me; a fear I cannot define and which yet will not leave me."
Odo's face was calm and grave. The Benedictine monk had been listening intently, but with a detached interest, as to some tale which, even if it concerned himself, could not in the least disturb his equanimity. With his supernormal quickness of perception he knew at once the powers with which he had to cope. Tristan had told him of the devilish face in the panel during the night of his first watch at the Lateran.
"The powers of Evil at work are so great that only a miracle from heaven can save us," he said at last. "Listen well, and lose not a word of what I am about to say. Have you ever heard of one Mani, who lived in Babylonia some seven hundred years ago and founded a religion in which he professed to blend the teachings of Christ with the cult of the old Persian Magi?"
A negative gesture came in response. Tristan's face was tense with anxiety. Odo continued:
"According to his teachings there exist two kingdoms: the kingdom of Light and the kingdom of Darkness. Light represents the beneficent primal spirit: God. Darkness is likewise a spiritual kingdom: Satan and his demons were born from the kingdom of Darkness. These two kingdoms have stood opposed to each other from all eternity--touching each other's boundaries, yet remaining unmingled. At last Satan began to rage and made an incursion into the kingdom of Light. Now, the God of Light begat the primal man and sent him, equipped with the five pure elements, to fight against Satan. But the latter proved himself the stronger, and the primal man was, for the time, vanquished. In time the cult of the Manichæans spread. The seat of the Manichæan pope was for centuries at Samarkand. From there, defying persecutions, the sect spread, and obtained a foothold in northern Africa at the time of St. Augustine. Thence it slowly invaded Italy."
Tristan listened with deep attention.
"The original creed had meanwhile been split up into numerous sects," Odo of Cluny continued. "The followers of Mani believed there were two Gods,--the one of Light, the other of Darkness, both equally powerful in their separate kingdoms. But lately one by the name of Bogumil proclaims that God never created the world, that Christ had not an actual body, that he neither could have been born, nor that he died, that our bodies are evil, a foul excrescence, as it were, of the evil principle. Maintaining that God had two sons--Satan the older and Christ the younger--they refuse homage to the latter, Regent of the Celestial World, and worship Lucifer. And they hold meetings and perform diabolical ceremonies, in which they make wafers of ashes and drink the blood of a goat, which their devil-priests administer to them in communion."
Odo of Cluny paused and took a long breath, fixing Tristan with his dark eyes. And when Tristan, stark with horror, dared not trust himself to speak, Odo concluded:
"This is the peril that confronts us! And Holy Church is without a head, and the cardinals cannot cope with the terrible scourge. It is this you saw, my son, and, had your presence been discovered, you would never again have greeted the light of day."
At last Tristan found his tongue.
"God forbid that there should be such a thing, that men should worship the Fiend."
"Nevertheless they do," Odo replied, "and other things too awful for mortal mind to credit."
The perspiration came out on Tristan's brow. Although he was prepared for matters of infinite moment and knew that this interview might well be one of the decisive moments of his life, he yet possessed the detached attitude of mind which was curious of strange learning and information, even in a crisis.
"And you have known this, Father?" he said at last, "and you have done nothing to check the evil?"
"We are living in evil times, my son," Odo replied. "I have long known of the existence of this black heresy, which has slowly spread its baleful cult, until it has reached our very shores. But that they would dare to establish themselves in the city of the Apostle, this I was not prepared to accept, until the terrible crime at the Lateran removed the last doubt. And now I know that the foul thing has obtained a footing here, and more than that, I know that some high in power are affiliated with this society of Satan, that would establish the reign of Lucifer among the Seven Hills. Did you not tell me, my son, of one, terrible of aspect, who peered through the panel in the Capella Palatina on the night of that first and most horrible outrage?"
"One who looked as the Fiend might look, did he assume human guise," Tristan confirmed with a nod.
"The high priest of Satan," Odo returned, "a familiar of black magic--the most terrible of all heinous crimes against Holy Church. A wave of crime is rolling its crimson tide over the Eternal City such as the annals of the Church have never recorded. It started in the reign of Marozia, and Theodora is leagued with the fiend, as was her sister before her."
Odo paused for a moment, breathing deep, while Tristan listened spellbound.
"Have you ever pondered," he continued with slow emphasis, "why the Lord Alberic entrusted to you, a stranger, so important a post as the command of the Emperor's Tomb? That there may be one he does not trust and who that one may be?"
Tristan gave a start.
"There is one I do not trust--one who seems to wrap himself in a poison mist of evil--the Lord Basil."
"Be wary and circumspect. Has he of late come to the Tomb?"
"Three days ago--in company with a stranger from the North--one I may not meet and again look upon heaven."
"The woman's husband?" Odo queried with a penetrating glance.
Tristan colored.
"How these two met I cannot fathom."
"Remember one thing, my son, their alliance portends evil to some one. What did they in the crypts?"
"The Lord Basil seems to have taken a fancy to exploring the cells," Tristan replied. "Those who have followed him report that he holds strange converse with the ghost of some mad monk whom he starved into eternity."
"And this converse--what is its subject?" Odo queried with awakening interest.
"A prophecy and a woman," Tristan replied. "Though those who heard them were so terror stricken at their infectious madness that they fled--not daring to tarry longer lest they would find themselves in the clutches of the fiend."
"A prophecy and a woman," Odo repeated pensively. "The Lord Alberic has confided much in me--his fears--his doubts! For even he knows not, how his mother came to her untimely end."
"The Lady Marozia?"
"The tale is known to you?"
"Rumors--flimsy--intangible--"
"One night she was mysteriously strangled. The Lord Alberic was almost beside himself. But the mystery remained unsolved."
After a pause Odo continued:
"I, too, have not been idle. We must lull them in security! We must appear utterly paralyzed. Our terror will increase their boldness. Their ultimate object is still hidden. We must be wary. The Lord Alberic must be informed. We must spike the bait."
"I have despatched a trusty messenger in the guise of a peasant to the shrine of the Archangel," Tristan interposed.
"God grant that he arrive not too late," Odo replied. "And now, my son, listen to my words. A great soul and a stout heart must he have who sets himself to such a task as is before you! We are surrounded by the very fiends of Hell in human guise. Speak to no one of what you have seen. If you are in need of counsel, come to me!"
Odo raised his hands, pronouncing a silent blessing over the kneeling visitor and Tristan departed, dazed and trembling, wide-eyed and with pallid lips.
As he passed Mount Aventine the dark-robed form of a hunchback suddenly rose like a ghost from the ground beside him and, approaching Tristan, muttered some words in an unintelligible jargon. Believing he was dealing with a beggar, Tristan was about to dismiss the ill-favored gnome with a gift, which the latter refused, motioning to Tristan to incline his ear.
With an ill-concealed gesture of impatience Tristan complied, but his strange interlocutor had hardly delivered himself of his message when Tristan recoiled as if he had seen a snake in the grass before him, every vestige of color fading from his face.
"At the Lateran?" he chokingly replied to the whispered confidence of the hunchback.
The latter nodded.
"At the Lateran."
Ere Tristan could recover from his surprise, his informant had disappeared among the ruins.
For some time he stood as if rooted to the spot.
It was too monstrous--too unbelievable and yet--what could prompt his informant to invent so terrible a tale?
At midnight, two nights hence, the consecrated wafer was to be taken from the tabernacle in the Lateran!
Perchance he had spoken even to one of the sect who had, at the last moment, repented of his share in the contemplated outrage.
If it were granted to him to deliver Rome and the world from this terror! A strange fire gleamed in his eyes as he returned to Castel San Angelo.
Himself, he would keep the watch at the Lateran and foil the plot.
