by Anne Carsley
When he gave her the next morning’s ale, Katherine spoke calmly and coolly, “What are you going to do with me?”
The eyes on hers were devoid of emotion, cold and flat as those of a snake. “Your husband should arrive by tomorrow night. Then you will know all.”
“You had me watched? Many times I felt eyes upon me.”
“We are many. Even in the north and when you lay with him beside the river or in the inn we knew. There was not a moment that you could not have been taken, not a time when revenge was not being laid, not in all these months since we stood together in York and you sought to evade the fate for which you were ordained.”
“How did you know that James would come? You know so much, surely you know that he values me only for the sake of a child.”
Rykos came very close to her, his odor made her gag.
“On the contrary. Madam. The messenger says that he cried aloud when told of your extremity. His farewells were quite perfunctory and his words were only of you.”
Katherine’s drawn face bloomed with radiance and a sudden happiness suffused her.
“You will wonder that I know this so rapidly. We are everywhere.”
“It is the child.” Katherine said the words as rote. James would fall into the trap and she was powerless to do anything, even live.
“That is the delight of all this. He will come to learn just how much he does care, only to lose all at the last moment.”
Rykos said no more but watched her avidly all day, his greedy eyes moving over every inch of her body. When night came he was upon her again, thrusting brutally at her from behind, making suggestions so foul that they seemed to come from hell itself. When he finished he walked to the fire, seeming to warm his hands. Suddenly he sprang on her, pressing into the flesh of her right breast a ring that burned her like a brand. Her skin tore and she screamed. A small replica of the bent cross blistered on her skin. He loosed her then and spat in her face as she had done in his.
“It is ended. Now you belong to Him.”
Minutes later he lay snoring on the couch as Katherine’s stomach cramped in the familiar pains of miscarriage. The burn on her breast smarted cruelly and the skin was even more painful where he had torn at her female flesh. Katherine was granted then the small mercy of a faint.
She woke with a start to find a very old woman washing her face with warm water. The air was fresh. A clean mat was under her and a bath sat ready. Sweet odors came from it and new cloths with ointment lay on a stool close at hand.
“Who are you? Where is that fiend?” Her questions tumbled over themselves but the woman simply put both hands to her toothless mouth and ears to indicate that she was both deaf and dumb. She remembered the guard with the Queen. Did these brutes so mutilate all who served them? Her hands on Katherine’s bruised body were quick and soothing. She made her sit long in the bath which was heated regularly. Then the ointments were applied. A foul tasting drink was urged upon her. She refused at first but the old woman pointed to her stomach and simulated the pangs of childbirth. It was enough, she drank and soon the ominous cramps ceased.
Food restored her even further and the pain of her body eased. The cross on her breast still burned and shone bright red. The chain around her neck rubbed and cut but it was nothing compared to all that she had endured. She was wrapped in a furred mantle, her freshly washed hair a shimmering aureole around her head, when the door swung back and Rykos entered. He waved the old woman away with a negligent gesture. In his hands were a gauzy white dress and a green veil hung with huge emeralds. He placed these carefully out of reach and looked at Katherine. The sun of late afternoon shone into the room, touching her white face and illuminating it.
“You will wear these tonight.”
“No.” She rose and faced him, determined to fight to the death if need be.
He drew his dagger then, a thin, needle sharp blade, caught her face and turned it up to his. Then he set the point at the corner of her eye.
“Look your fill at my face, Katherine. It will be the last sight you see in this world if you do not obey me. I assure you that you will be just as acceptable for our purposes blind as not. You know me well enough by now to know that I will enjoy doing this to you.” He waited patiently, grinding the point into her skin a bit deeper.
Katherine was held so tightly that she could not flinch away. Her voice was shaking as she said, “Very well, I will obey you. I have no choice.”
“You made your choice long ago.” He let go of her then. “I shall return shortly. Be ready.”
The old woman pushed the clothes closer and patted them invitingly, urging Katherine silently. The girl looked at her in irritation but put her hands on the gauzy pile. She groped incredulously, then pulled out a dagger with a short curved blade and honed sides. She stared at the old woman who grinned toothlessly back. Hope surged up.
“Thank you, more than I can say.” She began but realized that words were useless. The old woman approached then with a comb and made gestures that Katherine was to sit down. She did so and let her hair be parted so that it fell in long waves to the small of her back. In the front the woman placed a small symbol of the crooked cross and pinned her hair to hold it in place. Just behind that she slipped the dagger and secured it with several more pins. She held the mirror for Katherine to see the high crowned effect.
Katherine knelt on the floor before her in a flamboyant gesture and made the sign of the Christian cross. The old woman made cutting gestures at her mouth and Katherine knew that she had been right about her mutilation. Then she, too, made the sign of the cross and scuttled for the door, slamming it with a purposeful bang.
Katherine knew that if she were to die she would at least give an account of herself. If she could destroy Rykos. In any case, she had been given the means to insure that she did not go numbly to her slaughter. Hurriedly now, she pulled the gauzy dress on. It draped her but hid nothing. The veil went over her head and the emeralds danced like fire in the light.
Rykos returned and was watching. She stood and he reached through the draperies, touching the cross on her breast. Katherine winced and looked down. The cross was outlined in the color of blood and shone freely through the gauzy dress. Protests were useless, she would not give him the satisfaction.
Rykos did not speak as he handed her a soft white robe to wear over her near complete nudity, then he unlocked the chain from the wall and commanded her to follow.
They went out into the green press of the wood where the air was cool and vitalizing to Katherine. Her bare feet hint on the rocks but she would not complain over that. The leaves were changing as they went deeper into the depths. The sun was still shining but it was very faint here and the dark was both forbidding and mysterious. There was an unnatural stillness. They came out finally into a clearing in which the grass was well stamped down. A path led up to several great rocks, smooth and carved, polished to a high gloss, flat on top. It was an altar, above it was set once again the crooked cross. Close by blood-red draperies hung and a curved scimitar from eastern lands lay ready on the altar.
Katherine stared in growing horror and understanding while Rykos watched her face. He began that horrible laugh that shook his entire body.
“On your knees before Him whom you have scorned and mocked. Tonight He shall have you and yours.” Katherine’s voice rose incredulously. “The altar of Satan. Devil worship!”
It seemed to her that the very atmosphere was permeated with evil. The stillness seemed to intensify and grow heavy. The fading rays of the sun slanted in the tree tops but the shadows were close here. Then the leaves began to rustle just to her right although there was no wind. There was an evil smell in the air, sweat and old incense and wild animal. Rykos threw Katherine to her knees, then stretched himself flat on the ground, groveling and calling out in that strange language he had used before.
The girl closed both eyes as whatever it was drew closer, a heavy malevolence that enfolded and pressed down on h
er. She sought to raise her head and could not. Over and over the “Hail Mary” rang in her mind but she could think of no prayers for the exorcism of evil. Then a bird called, the weight lifted and Katherine could feel her limbs again. She began to shake as Rykos jerked on the chain.
“You are accepted. Be grateful.” He was facing her now, smiling in triumph.
“You chose me for your cult long ago. A virgin for whatever foul thing you bow down to. And blame me that I did not wish it.”
Rykos’ eyes went flat again and his words were measured as he spat them almost in her face. “You would have lived in luxury until it was time. Your virginity was sacred to Him and I would not have touched you. Every honor would have been given you but you chose to lie with another. The bargain was void and we suffered. England suffered because of you. You!”
“I do not believe your foolish maunderings. You are mad!”
Once started Rykos could not stop. “The life of the King was bought with the sacrifice of a virgin twice yearly. Elizabeth Woodville won him by His power. Her mother, one of the greatest of all His maids, taught her well. Aye, great by far, a holy priestess; and great Edward served us well through his Queen. Every seven years the bargain was renewed, the time was again approaching. You were chosen and then were lost to us. He lies dead and another sits in his place, but not for long. The usurper will die the death. All will come right when those party to the sacrilege are lain in an act of worship. This night the crime shall be expiated.”
Katherine could not keep the scorn from her voice. A preposterous tale! “How can you believe such drivel? It is a tale to frighten children. The dead King, a party to such?”
“Not he, you fool. The Queen. For her, he would have given much, and when they were wed he found that he had given both life and kingdom. We are powerful, indeed. The young Edward under the tutelage of his mother, to what heights might we have risen!” “Surely your demon is powerful without all this foolishness?” taunted Katherine.
The glen was suddenly very still in the last rays of the sun which now hung red through the trees. Katherine felt the hairs stand on her arms and the back of her neck as Rykos turned from her and bowed before the altar three times. Then he faced her with the kind of gravity she had seen the priests of her God exhibit.
“The Christian God has rituals even as we. Even now it is beginning.”
He took the end of her chain and fixed it into a ring set deep in the stone of the altar. At the side she saw a hollowed out rock and knew that it was for the blood of the sacrificial victim. Rykos straightened up and bowed gracefully to her.
“At moonrise our work will be ready. I leave you now to your contemplations. Scream if you like. In fact I invite you to do so for it will relieve your feelings and there are none to hear.”
Katherine wondered that she could think of academic questions at such a time but perhaps it was to keep her mind from the horror she would shortly face. “All Hallows Eve, that is one of your great celebrations, is it not? This is only early October. Surely this mistiming will be taken amiss, especially now.” Her tone was taunting, but it shook.
Rykos stood in front of her and began that high keening laugh.
“Then is the crowning moment, Katherine. We will give him the life of the usurper, Richard III, so called King of England. Even now a rebellion is mounted against him from three sides, people call out about the fate of the princes—we have placed rumor well—and he is far from his capital. A King for a King.”
Katherine sank to her knees in anguish as Rykos stood over her and laughed his mad laugh.
Chapter 32
The Rites Atonement
The next few hours passed slowly for Katherine. She had flung back the veil which now hung on both sides of her face and down her back. She dared not touch her hair where the dagger lay concealed. Who knew what watched in the shadows?
She knew that she should be communing with the God she was shortly to meet and setting matters right with her soul but she was too much a creature of life to think about the relinquishment of the life. The whole thing was absurd, bizarre. Who could fathom a Satanic cult flourishing so near the throne and going on apparently unhindered over the country itself? She remembered the strange ceremonial in the village as they first journeyed to Hunsdale and thought that this must be part of the “watching.” It seemed now that all her life had led up to this moment when she sat chained and awaiting death. Her mind was a confusion of all the old tales she had read. A ritual victim was placed upon the altar, the throat cut or stabbed in the heart, sometimes the heart was torn from the breast even as the victim lived. She remembered that it was most highly regarded if the victim went willingly to the slaughter for then the dark gods were appeased.
A night bird called eerily and a chorus of insects sounded. Katherine paced at the end of the chain, sat down, rose and paced again. Twilight made ghost shapes of the trees and she saw the nearly full moon rising in the clear sky.
Suddenly there was the sound of shuffling and black-robed figures drifted slowly into the clearing as a low chanting began. They were well hooded and sat down some distance from her as their bodies moved slowly to the chants. More joined them and stood erect looking at the moon.
“It is time, Lady Katherine.” Rykos, wearing the robes she had seen earlier and a high homed hat on his head, came up beside her. “You cannot avert what is to come. I suggest that you submit calmly.”
She looked into the eager eyes and knew that he yearned for her to beg and plead. Katherine was so afraid that cold sweat filmed her body and made the raw wound burn on her breast. Her hands shook so that she folded them over her breasts to hide the fact from her tormentor. Her eyes filled with tears but when she spoke she was surprised to see that her voice was clear and hard.
“I know what must be. Release me from this chain. I would die free.”
He laughed. “You think me the fool you have so often called me. Do not think to trifle with me now! You would dash into the woods and the time spent in bringing you back would detract from our ceremony and dishonor Him.”
Katherine raised her voice which carried, fresh and vibrant, over the clearing to the ears of the cultists who ceased chanting as it came to their drugged senses.
“Never did you give me a true choice, Alexis Rykos. Never was I asked my will in this matter. You know my history. How have I fared in the Christian world? Have I been given happiness or power? I have been the plaything of others and well you know it. You owe me the choice now. I give myself freely to your gods, that in the afterlife I may be blessed. Witness that I speak the truth!”
She knelt as she had seen Rykos do, then rose and extended both hands to the altar, her face shone white in the light of the full moon. A mutter came, then a clamor as she remained rigid in the pose. Rykos caught her shoulder and shook it.
“Slut. You think to trick us all.”
She jerked free and cried, “Thrice blessed is the willing sacrifice!”
One of the hooded figures came close to Rykos and spoke to him in a deep resonant voice. “The woman is right. She has been accepted. The Master’s hunger must be appeased soon. He grows restless. This will please him.”
The others took up the call. “Please him. Please him.” Rykos turned to them all and raised his arms so that they immediately fell silent. There was a note of wild triumph in his voice as he said,
“You say that you are willing, Katherine. Is this true?”
“Yes.” Her voice was clear and sharp without emotion.
“Then look upon this and see if you still believe so.” He waved to several men-at-arms who thrust a bound figure into the clearing and jerked the hood from its head.
Katherine caught her breath in consternation. It was James, his face bloodied, his eyes flaring in the light of the torches. He saw her dress and her attitude of supplication, then said scornfully,
“I see that I need not have hastened to your bedside. Is this your true self?”
She lifted
her hands and her face contorted as the light moved across her body and the draperies blew out so he saw the crooked cross on her breast.
“Name of God, Katherine, what manner of woman are you? Be damned forever, foul slut. I care not.”
“James!” It was a cry of hopelessness but he turned his head and she saw that he fought against emotion, mastered it, and stood erectly to gaze at a point far from her face.
“Aye, you have rejected me,” she said loudly, dramatically. “There is another way. Come!”
She flung her arms wide and leaned toward the cultists who advanced on Rykos. “Free her!”
He reached over and unlocked the chain but glared furiously at her the while. Katherine advanced to the altar and prostrated herself before it. The chanting rose in crescendo behind her as she heard the heavy tread of Rykos walking toward the sacrificial knife.
The moon rose higher as the cultists drank deep of some wine that Katherine assumed was tainted. Rykos took her up on the high altar and placed her so that she stood as if she were some pagan goddess highlighted by moon and torchlight. Her hair mingled with the emeralds on the veil and her lips that he had made her rouge shone blood red.
Rykos began to chant in the arcane language that had its own rhythm. The others began to prance and posture as they touched each other in excitement. Their senses seemed to tilt ever higher. Rykos placed a great necklace of emeralds around his neck and it hung almost to the ground. James was pushed forward against the rocks where he stood as if he were shaking.
Rykos held up his hand and the noise ceased as all bent in reverence before him. He cried, “They are ready for sacrifice, the woman, her unborn child and her lover. Call the Master, my people!”
The calling began with one deep toned cry that rose and fell, only to be repeated again and again. It lifted to several notes of entreaty which mixed with sensual longing and promised gratification. They lifted their arms, swaying back and forth in an ecstasy of yearning. Rykos called on the same deep note, his eyes closed and his arms widespread.