“Where are you taking my daughter? Sarah is still alive. Please, I beg you!” Nashiema yelled, running after Obadiah. She felt someone tugging on her arm, holding her back. She turned, it was her husband. “Let go of me! Can’t you see he’s going to kill Sarah? We must stop him.”
“Nashiema, it is Saturn’s will,” Abraham declared.
The temple elders, the congregation, and musicians all followed the Chief Elder into the courtyard. They locked hands to form a circle around the golden statue of Saturn.
The worshipers chanted. “Salzol ShBThAI! Salzol ShBThAI! Salzol ShBThAI!” (Hail Saturn! Hail Saturn! Hail Saturn!)
Nashiema watched as Obadiah carried Sarah up steep, uneven, stone stairs to the statue’s mouth and held her daughter’s unconscious girl’s body high, so all could see her. He began praying in Solsatihel. The brazier’s red-hot, devilish flames responded by growing higher and higher. Once Obadiah finished praying, he pitched Sarah into the fiery pit.
Musicians began to play.
“No,” Nashiema screamed. She fell to her knees. Her sobs drowned out by the loud music.
Licia ran over to her side, but Nashiema pushed her aside.
“Don’t you touch me! This is your doing. I should have never listened to you. Now, my Sarah is dead.”
“Nashiema, this is the will of Saturn. You must trust HIM,” Licia said.
Lyre and tribal ceremonial drums kept time as the Daughters of Saturn flew over the temple, casting remnants of shimmering, icy flashes of light. Obadiah and the congregation re-entered the temple. Licia ushered Nashiema and Abraham back into the shrine.
Distraught, Nashiema clutched her husband, her tearful, frightened eyes stared at Lilith lying on the altar. They had come to the temple expecting her daughters to be healed, not sacrificed.
Lilith was chosen by Saturn? For what purpose? What was going to happen to her?
SATURN’S HIGH PRIESTESS
Isis opened the vessel containing the sacred waters from the Fountain of Youth and poured it over the athame’s blade. The water quickly reacted with the sap from the Tree of Life, causing the tip of the blade to glow yellow, followed by a bluish afterglow. Isis and her sisters formed a circle around Lilith. Moonlight from the skylight above spilled over Lilith’s body, giving it a ghostlike appearance.
The Daughters of Saturn joined hands and together prayed:
“We are the Daughters of Saturn, as old as the beginning. Great Father, hear our prayer unto thee. Lord Saturn Almighty, who has reigned before the beginning of time, we bow before your black onyx altar.”
“We are the Old Ones who speak your praise. God of Chaos, Father Saturn, come to your daughters. We turn our eyes toward you, waiting with open mouths and open hearts. We offer you thanks as you bestow upon Lilith the power of immortality. You have chosen her as your first and only High Priestess. Great is your power. O, Father of the Gods and of the Universe, come to your daughters.”
Dusana stretched forth her hand toward a gold cylinder that sat mounted high above the altar. The canister lifted out of its mounting and floated toward her. The canister opened and a scroll containing an ancient prayer majestically rolled out of the cylinder.
“Father Saturn, may you find the sacrifice pleasing. Take this water from the Fountain of Youth and the sap from the Tree of Life and charge it with your power,” Dusana recited the prayer.
Obadiah and worshipers gathered behind the Daughters of Saturn to form a second circle around the altar.
Isis gave the magickally-charged, glowing athame to Asira.
* * *
Frightened by the translucent, icy blue faces of Daughters of Saturn, Lilith let out a scream. Facing death, Lilith could only think of one person—Felipe. She gripped the heart-shaped, gold locket so tightly in her fist—blood began to trickle down her wrist from where her fingernails had dug deep into the palm of her hand.
Asira stripped Lilith of her gown. She took the athame and carved a six-pointed star into Lilith’s chest. The girl screamed in pain as the sharp blade delved deep within her flesh. Within the six-pointed star, Asira scribed four sacred words and six magickal symbols all forming an inner circle within the pentagram.
“Stop!” Nashiema shrieked. She ran toward the altar, but Obadiah and Abraham held her.
“Have faith, Nashiema,” Abraham said, putting his arms around his wife.
Asira rolled Lilith onto her stomach, where she etched the Seal of Saturn deep into her back, then the seven pentacles of Saturn. The magick elixir on the athame acted like a branding iron, permanently embedding the magickal symbols into Lilith’s skin. She writhed in pain. A single tear slipped from Lilith’s eye. She kissed the locket and bravely took what she believed to be her last and final breath.
A misty cloud came down from the heavens. The Daughters of Saturn crouched down in a circle around the altar. Obadiah and the temple elders formed an outer circle around the Daughters of Saturn. Rhythmic drums beat as worshipers chanted together.
“Hail Saturn! Hail to the Golden God! Hail Saturn! Great is thy power.”
* * *
Apollyon sat on his throne in the underworld, observing Lilith’s transformation through a whirling divination pool of fire. He gave a devious smile.
“So it begins. I have waited centuries for this moment. Now, all I have to do is persuade the priestess to use the Six Forbidden Scrolls and open Saturn’s all-Seeing Eye.”
* * *
Nashiema cast her eyes to the sky. Dark clouds began forming. Ferocious winds picked up, thunder rumbled, and lightning streaked across the night’s sky. She collapsed at her husband’s feet.
A storm stirred on the planet Saturn, which opened up a swirling, hexagon vortex on the Northside of the planet. A dazzling, golden ray of light discharged from the vortex, spilling onto the altar. An intense, electrical energy poured through the swirling, hexagon vortex, creating a powerful gravitational pull that lifted Lilith’s body off the altar and causing her to vanish.
The drumming and chanting ceased.
“Oeii dokah’mai!” (It is finished!) Isis said. She and her sisters disappeared, leaving streaks of blue-violet rays around Nashiema and Abraham.
Moments later Lilith emerged with the Daughters of Saturn, hovering in midair. Obadiah and the elders fell to their knees and bowed their heads.
“They have killed her,” Nashiema cried.
“No, look, Nashiema. Lilith lives,” Abraham said, pointing.
Nashiema looked up and grasped her husband’s arm. She cried out in horror at the sight of her daughter. Lilith had made a shocking transformation. Her olive complexion had turned a translucent icy blue. Massive black wings sprouted out from her shoulder blades and her feet were replaced by talons.
“What have you done to my daughter?” Nashiema yelled up to the heavens as if she expected Saturn to answer her.
Lilith outstretched her arms. In her right hand, she held the rod and ring of Sumerian royal authority. Upon her head, she wore a stepped crown. Around Lilith’s neck was the gold, heart-shaped locket. She flew down to her parents, and enveloped them in her massive, black wings.
“Mother, Father, do not be frightened. I am Father Saturn’s immortal Elidaelohim,” (High Priestess). There is no need to mourn Sarah. She lives with Father Saturn,” Lilith said. “Saturn’s power and glory flows deep within me. I shall never die. Hail Saturn! Hail to the Golden God! Hail Saturn!”
Lilith flapped her wings and hovered high over the temple. A large serpent, with glowing red eyes representing the Tree of Life, materialized and coiled itself around the lower portion of her body, rested its head firmly against her abdomen. The serpent’s tongue darted in and out as it hissed and spoke.
“I am your protector, priestess. In time, I will reveal myself to you.”
A black swirling cloud of birds swarmed over the temple’s hexagon skylight. An owl swooped down from the heavens and perched itself at her talon feet.
Abraham bowed reverently
. “I will serve you, Elidaelohim,” Abraham said, marveling at Lilith’s magnificent splendor.
As Nashiema wiped tears from her eyes, she respectfully bowed to Lilith.
“Salzol ShBThAI! Salzol Elidaelohim!” (Hail Saturn! Hail High Priestess!) Nashiema’s eyes shifted to Isis. “Will Lilith be able to bear children?” Nashiema asked.
“Yes, she will be able to give life,” Isis answered.
“Will our grandchildren become immortal?” Abraham asked.
“Immortality is a gift, not a birthright,” Dusana said. “Father Saturn will have to find favor with our Elidaelohim’s offspring.”
Lilith flew over to her parents. “Mother, Father, I must remain here at the temple with my sisters. I have much to learn before the special ceremony, which will make my transformation complete. But I will make sure you will return home safely.”
With a wave of her hand, Nashiema and Abraham vanished in a rolling cloud of smoke.
SPECIAL GUESTS
23 July, 1455. Toledo, Spain. The de Hayos estate.
Dressed in his finest attire, eighteen-year-old Felipe Esteban de Hayos Montoya spit into his hands and smoothed his sweeping bangs out of his face. Felipe was the spitting image of his father, a strapping six-foot-three. One hundred eighty-pounds, he had an athletic build, with broad-shoulders, chiseled good looks, dark hair, and large brown eyes.
Before stepping out into the courtyard, he took a look back to make sure his pesky brother, Alejandro, had not followed him. At fifteen, his younger brother had the annoying habit of tracking Felipe’s every move. Hearing a familiar scuffling sound, he turned his head and made a pained face. Sure enough, there was Alejandro. Although he was every bit as handsome as Felipe, Alejandro took after their mother, blond and blue-eyed. But he was born three months premature, which left him short for his age and painfully thin.
Both boys stood in the courtyard, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the special guests they had heard their parents whispering about for weeks. Lying awake at night, Felipe and Alejandro could hear them discussing arrival plans through the walls—coordinating the safest routes out of Madrid to Toledo, as well as the number of soldiers it would take to protect them. Often their father’s booming voice rose in anger, echoing through the manor as he quarreled with their mother over how things should be done.
Felipe couldn’t help but wonder who was so important that his father would send a private carriage, and half of the Spanish Army, to escort them from Madrid. Probably some stuffy, old dignitaries, Felipe thought, while kicking dirt off his shoes. He, at least, hoped the guests were not as strange as the Prince of Wallachia and his sons. Although he was too young to remember most of their visit, what he did recall still frightened him.
Prince Vlad Dracula II and his two sons, Vlad III, and his younger brother, Radu of Romania, had come to visit Felipe’s family one summer. Felipe remembered he enjoyed playing with the younger brother Radu, but Vlad was a different story. As Felipe recalled the large eyed, odd-looking boy’s behavior was unpredictable and very sadistic.
Vlad said he only wanted to play a game with the dog. He lured the animal with a bloody, meaty bone he had stolen from the kitchen. After he tied the bone to a rope, the dumb, mangy mutt followed the bone right into Vlad’s trap. Once the dog got to the end of the trail and took hold of the bone, Vlad hoisted the rope and the dog landed onto the crude, handmade stake Vlad was holding in his left hand.
Felipe could never erase the image of the impaled dog from his mind. Its body twitching and thrashing on the stake, with his tongue hanging out of its mouth, whining in agony until it took its last breath. Felipe remembered the sick and twisted malicious grin on Vlad’s face while he watched the dog die. Felipe never told his father exactly how the dog was accidentally impaled. So, Felipe went to bed that night with welts and bruises from his father on his buttocks, crying himself to sleep, all while trying to forget the horrible images that played out in his head. Thunderous hoofbeats entered the gates, interrupting Felipe’s thoughts.
* * *
General de Ejército Ramírez was the first to enter the courtyard on a white horse, fully dressed in battle armor. The general signaled to a few of his soldiers and they galloped their stallions into the courtyard. Once the soldiers were in place, a horse-drawn carriage entered the court, coming to a complete halt. The remaining soldiers galloped their horses into the courtyard, making a defensive formation around the stagecoach.
Tomás de Hayos walked up to the carriage and stood alongside his wife, Francisca, and his sons. Tomás was a man of some stature, in his late thirties, broad-shouldered, tall, and ruggedly-handsome with short salt and pepper hair, a mustache and goatee. Servants wearing crisp, clean uniforms lined up to greet the guests. He gestured to an inattentive manservant to meet the coach.
A soldier broke formation, pulling the reigns of his horse, and commanding the steed to move aside to allow a manservant to approach the carriage. The servant opened the carriage door and a hand wearing a torn, dirty, white, lace glove gripped the man’s hand. A tall woman with haunting blue eyes and long, dark, uncombed hair stepped out of the carriage. She looked frightened.
Felipe examined the woman. Her face was as dirty as her gloves. Her once grand, floral-patterned dress was torn, with a broken string of pearls hanging from its bodice. The center of the dress bore a large dried bloodstain. It was obvious this woman was not a dignitary and Felipe wondered why his parents would make such a fuss over a pauper—a washerwoman!
From behind the woman, a teenage girl came into view. She had followed her mother out of the carriage and into the courtyard. The young lady, like her mother also looked frightened. Her blue satin, ruffled dress was soiled. The girl’s face grimaced as she looked up at the late-day sun.
“Señora Maria Luz Rivera Castile of Madrid and her daughter, Señorita Zaybeth Castile Rivera has arrived,” the manservant announced.
* * *
Felipe gazed at Zaybeth in amazement. Never had he seen such an angelic creature. Her soft, white skin resembled fine porcelain. She had vivid, jade green eyes and her hair hung in ringlets of sun-kissed fire.
Her gaze met his, her eyes dipping shyly, before she gave a coy smile. Although her cheeks and face were too dirty for Felipe to make out, he thought that she might very well be blushing.
“Zaybeth, es muy bonita,” Felipe whispered to his mother, who stood beside him.
“Sí, Felipe, she is very pretty,” Francisca agreed.
“Zaybeth and I are going to marry someday,” Felipe blurted aloud. Felipe was so enamored by Zaybeth’s angelic qualities that he failed to notice his father was looming directly over him with his arms folded, giving him disapproving stare.
“Felipe, stop spouting such nonsense! You know very well you are already betrothed,” Tomás scolded.
Felipe saw his father’s furrowed brow and knew where the conversation was headed. He met his mother’s gaze, and as usual, she had to act quickly to distract his father’s wrath, and quickly waved to the general.
* * *
The general’s horse majestically trotted over to Francisca and Tomás. He dismounted, taking off his helmet. He knelt before Francisca and Tomás. Taking Francisca’s hand, General Ramírez respectfully and gently pressed his lips gently to her fingers. He stood upright and addressed Tomás.
“Buenas tardes, Señora y Señor de Hayos.”
“Gracias, General Ramírez, for getting our guests here safely. I trust you have a full report?” Tomás inquired.
“Sí. We were not followed and there were no signs of Señor Castile.”
“Excellent. I need a few of your men to remain here for a few weeks. If Señor Castile dares to show his cowardly face, kill him on sight.”
“Sí, Señor de Hayos,” General Ramírez said, bowing and returning back to his horse. He mounted the horse and rode back to his men, giving them orders.
Francisca walked over to Maria and greeted her with a warm hug and kiss.
The shy, redheaded girl walked from around her mother and curtsied. “I will turn eighteen on the second of September, Señora de Hayos.”
Tomás walked over to Francisca and placed his hand on her right shoulder. Francisca turned. “Oh, Maria, you remember, Tomás, my husband.”
Tomás greeted Maria with a kiss on each cheek.
“God bless you, Tomás. How can I ever thank you?” Maria said, on the verge of tears.
“There’s no need to thank me. You and…” he stammered. “You and your daughter are now safe.” Tomás bent down on one knee and kissed the back of Zaybeth’s hand. “Buenas tardes, Señorita.”
Zaybeth curtsied.
Felipe and Alejandro rushed over to Maria and Zaybeth.
“Buenas tardes, Señora Castile. I am Felipe.”
“Oh, Felipe, there’s no need to be so formal, your mother and I are old friends. You may call me Maria and this is my daughter, Zaybeth.”
Zaybeth curtsied.
“Zaybeth, what kind of name is Zaybeth?” Alejandro blurted out.
“Alejandro, stop it, you’re being rude,” Francisca scolded. “Maria, I’m sorry.”
Maria laughed. “It’s all right, Francisca, the boy is curious. After all, Zaybeth is an unusual name. Go on, tell everyone how you got your name.”
The girl’s face turned red. She cut her mother a look and then bashfully looked down, allowing her curly, red mane to cover her face. She cleared her throat and began to speak softly.
“My father named me. Zaybeth, I am told it means God’s promise.”
“I think your name is beautiful,” Felipe said, gazing lovingly into the girl’s eyes. “It suits you.”
Zaybeth smiled.
Felipe turned to his mother. “Mother, may I show Zaybeth our estate?” he asked, enthusiastically.
Eye of Saturn (The Daughters of Saturn Book 1) Page 4