With this Aalo hurried to the foot of the wall where she saw the wolf struggling in the net, shrouding its body like a cloak, all hope of escape extinguished. And such did this ensnared beast pant as if its sides were about to split, and spittle frothed from its black, foreboding jowls and between its curved fangs as the villagers scathed and scorned it.
And Aalo saw the men with their spears raised aloft, ready to strike deep into the wolf’s side, and amongst their number stood her husband Priidik.
And at that moment she heard those same words once more; fainter, perhaps further off, as if someone had cried from the wilderness, yet she alone could hear:
‘Aalo, Aalo my lass, will you join the wolves at the swamp?’
Like a calling did these words reach her, like a coaxing cry from the swamp.
And thus at that very moment a dæmon entered her and she was possessed.
And this Spirit is called Diabolus sylvarum, the Spirit of the Forest and of the Wolf, whose home is by the swamp and in the wilds; brave and fearless, a spirit of strength and freedom, and yet also of rage and violence; mystified beyond all comprehension, winged like the storm clouds and ablaze like the heart of the earth, yet forever caught in the shackles of Darkness.
But at that same moment Priidik the woodsman thrust his spear through the net and into the side of the thrashing wolf, and many of the other men too, and with that the beast’s blood spurted high into the air.
Yet not even did the dogs dare touch the wolf’s flesh, for it was foul and vile to their throats, and was thrown as carrion to the birds.
And late into the night came the sounds of rejoicing, the wheeze of the bagpipes and the booming of muskets from the inn at Haavasuo, for there, fuelled with ale and spiced liquor, did the villagers celebrate their wolf hunt, and the lads and the maids danced in time.
Chapter Five
O ye witches, ye who before the Incarnation of Our Lord and ever thereafter have celebrated Satan’s Sabbath, who can count your number! Simon in the Holy Bible, Circe and Medea, Caracalla, Nero, Julian the Apostate – all emperors of Rome – and last of all Faust and Scotus! How then could little Aalo of Pühalepa in Hiidenmaa have resisted the Might of Darkness?
And so it was that from the time of the great wolf hunt at Suuremõisa Aalo, wedded wife of Priidik the woodsman, had begun to yearn for the swamp and for the company of wolves; how she longed to leave behind her all humanity and the Christian union into which she had been conjoined at the Holy Font and through a number of other Sacraments. For so strongly did the Spirit stir her which had entered her; like bellows it fanned the flames in her blood, making her obey the command of the Devil and transform herself into a wolf. As evening fell, and in the dusk the wolves began to move closer to the village settlements, so their howl carried in across the wolds and upon the cottage threshold Aalo stopped amid her chores and stared out into the forest, and to her ear their howl sounded as soft as the sweetest music, for she too was a sister of their spirit.
Yet all the while she pleaded with her husband Priidik the woodsman to fasten strong hatches at the barn door and for safety’s sake to place thick iron bars behind them, and she acquired a new and ill-tempered guard dog. Neither did she once allow the shepherd boy to take the cattle beyond the pasture, though in sooth during summer-tide the wolves have other prey than merely cattle, such as hares, foxes, hedgehogs and woodland birds. But this Wolf hungered neither for cows nor sheep nor even for young foals: the body and soul of one young bride was its only prey, for it was an envoy of the Underworld.
And so that spring Aalo took care never to go alone to the swamp or deeper into the woods, for she knew that danger lurked there. As yet she had not wholly forgotten the union of her Christening and the effects of the Holy Water still protected her soul. But such a time did she spend caught between fear and desire, that the fire inside her ripened her, like the sun beating upon wheat in the field, waiting for the hour of its coming.
And throughout this time, as she endured this struggle, her thoughts strayed often to realms of death and darkness, as if she had sensed and forseen her premature, sorrowful demise. For unto her was everything filled with prophecies and omens, from which she divined signs and warnings and applied them to her own plight.
Thus in the mornings she would say to her husband Priidik:
‘The eagle owl was hooting high in the birches last night – what does this foretell?’
Or she might say:
‘Black ants came through the crack in the steps and marched across the threshold – surely this does not bode well.’
However she did not expect an answer to such questions, she merely uttered them to relieve her own anxiety.
But one day she returned from the paddock and said:
‘I saw strange things in the forest today: a Mourning Cloak Butterfly rested upon the yellow sand amongst the junipers. It had black wings, black as the finest cassock of the minister at Pühalepa, but their edges were the golden colour of honey and their spots the blue of the sky. Who now is going to die?’
Yet the Devil’s wicked arrow, which long ago had struck her, slowly clouded her mind with its poison, and the dæmons and their Master rejoiced in Hell, for their prey was entrapped and victory was near.
Thus it transpired that over Midsummer Priidik the woodsman was to leave for Emaste for two days to welcome a firewood merchant ship, and Aalo was to remain at home with their little daughter Piret, an old servant woman and a young shepherd boy.
But the night of the solstice has since pagan times been full of witchcraft, for then the dæmons wander freely and witches carry out their dark deeds under the shadow of night. For upon this night they convene at the crossing of paths and at the meeting of three fences and smear potions upon gates and stable doors and tie the corn in magic knots, reading spells and thus damaging both cattle and crops. And islandfolk say that on Midsummer’s Eve the water sprite Näkki can be seen in the body of a young woman searching for her drowned child.
And so upon this Midsummer’s Eve did the young folk of Suuremõisa and the neighbouring villages make their way to the swings and solstice fires, and the young maidens collected handfuls of nine herbs hoping to dream of their husbands-tobe. And the old too remained awake and kept watch over their houses, ensuring that no one came inside to work spells or cast an evil eye.
But Aalo, wedded wife of Priidik the woodsman, had nowhere to go that evening and sat in the cottage doorway.
And so the evening drew on and the bumble-bees rested in the trees bearing their golden goods, and all were fast asleep: the servant woman in her bed, the child in her cradle, the shepherd boy by the warmth of the stove, just as the handmill, the loom and the fishing nets hung upon their poles, and not so much as a wisp of smoke rose from the outdoor hearth.
Only the linen cloth, which Aalo during winter-tide had woven into strips, lay spread across the grass to whiten and stretched back and forth across the length of the yard like a pale yellow path.
And then, upon the cottage steps, Aalo saw the sun, the eye of the Lord, setting lower and lower in the sky, as low as the berries on the forest floor, then disappearing altogether, and with that evening soon chilled into night.
Then suddenly Aalo’s ears rang again with those same words she had once heard at the wolf hunt:
‘Aalo, Aalo! Aalo my lass, come join the wolves at the swamp!’
But this time they did not sound like a cry or a calling, but like an overwhelming command which had to be obeyed, lead though it may to death and damnation.
No longer could Aalo resist, and thus she dismissed her Holy Union and the fact that Christ our Saviour suffered and died upon the cross for her sins too, just as the people of Israel turned their backs upon God and their redeemer, that brave hero Gideon.
And so she gladly gave up her spirit, her body and her soul to the dæmons and let them lead her onwards.
And not even the whimpering of her innocent child could rouse her, for she was de
af to all but the call of the wolves.
Thus she took off her shoes, for it was late and dew lay heavy upon the ground, and set off barefoot along the cattle tracks towards the swamp, a distance of almost three versts.
Yet these paths were trodden by the cattle and they twisted and twined hither and thither, and all the time Aalo’s heart throbbed like a bird in her breast.
After walking for a time Aalo finally arrived at the edge of the great swamp, which seemed to be enveloped in a thin white mist, so covered was it with blossoming marsh tea and cloudberries and hare’s-tail. And here the sounds of the village could no longer be heard, nor the crowing of the cock nor the barking of the hounds, nor even the peal of the church bells.
And the swamp appeared to have a hundred eyes, between the tussocks, their dark surfaces staring silently at this young wife as she wandered through the night.
But Aalo skipped from tussock to tussock, as dwarf birches and cranberry tendrils tugged at the hem of her skirt as if to hold her fast.
And so she finally arrived at the small island in the centre of the swamp, where pines and blackthorns and rowans grew, where great anthills stood and where the ground was hard and covered in pine cones and needles.
Then Aalo recalled the ancient charm, snapped a branch from the blackthorn bush and waved it thrice across the quagmire.
And lo, she looked on as the bracken at the swamp’s edge burst into a blue flower which shone like a blue flame.
For the villagers say that bracken only flowers once a year, on Midsummer’s Eve.
And thus around this blue bracken flower, which flickered like blue fire, as if the heart of the swamp had lit up, danced the grass snakes, some with their heads held up high, some twisting in circles on the ground, and there were many hundred of their kind. And all the gnomes and will-o’-the-wisps of the forest bowed down on either side of the flower as if it were a sacrificial flame.
And upon the island in the swamp was a large group of wolves, even though it was summer-tide, as if all the wolds of Kõpu and the shadows of Kõrgessaare had released their wards, and all the wolves of Muhu and Saarenmaa and from as far afield as the mainland had joined their pack. They were sitting in a large circle, as if at a meeting of elders, their bushy tails at their heels and their thick coats tangled, but no longer did they howl.
At once Aalo perceived a large wolf sitting towards the front of the group, and realised that this was the very same wolf which at the hunt at Suuremõisa had escaped through the line of men; she knew it from its great, powerful frame and from the wild gleam in its eyes, and she understood that this was the leader of their pack.
Then she noticed, hidden within a large rock, a pristine wolf skin a deep colour of grey and yellow.
And thus at that moment the Devil snuffed out all that was left of Aalo’s former life, as quickly as if the swamp had sucked her deep into its embrace for the rest of time, and no longer could she recall her husband, her child, the servants, the cattle, neither the Word of the Lord nor His Mercy.
(For such powers has the Devil bestowed upon his dæmons that they may conjure up hail, frost and wind and can poison the air and the water, and even turn people into wolves.)
And with that Aalo threw the wolf skin across her shoulders and soon she felt her bodily form becoming all but unrecognisable; for her white skin was covered in a tangled coat; her dainty little face narrowed into the long muzzle of a wolf; her small, pretty ears grew into the pointed ears of a wolf; her teeth turned to ferocious fangs and her nails to the curved claws of a beast of the wilds.
But so skilfully does the Devil in his infinite cunning fit a wolf skin around the frame of a human that the claws and the teeth and even the ears each fall at exactly the right place, as if she had been taken from her mother’s womb thus and entered this world as Lycanthropus – a werewolf.
And in the form of the wolf, so Aalo also began to develop the cravings and desires of wolves, such as a thirst for blood and a rejoicing in slaughter, for her blood too had become the blood of wolves, and with this she became one of their number.
Thus with a wild and raucous howl she joined the pack of wolves, like a prodigal daughter she understood that finally she had found her like, and to a chorus of howls the others greeted her as their lost sister.
Chapter Six
And so it was that upon this light Midsummer’s night Aalo, wedded wife of Priidik the woodsman, ran for the first time as a werewolf.
For barely had she been transformed into a wolf and joined their number than the wolves left the island in the swamp and the whole pack galloped through the wilds, crossing heath and bog as they headed north-east towards Kõpu and Kõrgessaare, Aalo amongst them.
And Aalo sensed that both she and the world around her had changed through and through, everything felt new and fresh, as if her mortal eyes were glancing upon these things for the very first time, in the same way as our foremother Eve, when at the snake’s bidding she plucked and ate the apple from the Tree of Knowledge in Paradise.
For now the muscles in her loins and the sinews in her sides were tensed with a new, mighty power, and now no distance was too long for her; she leapt lightly across the quagmires and over felled trees and in her gallop there was a pace as terrific as the Western Winds.
Both swamp and forest were brimming with scents which, in her human form, not once had she noticed, and these scents excited her greatly, for she was compelled to run after each and every one of them. For in some strange way, which defies all explanation, she knew precisely which scent belonged to which animal dwelling in the forest. And so her nostrils were filled with the now familiar scents of far off creatures: squirrel and fox, snipe, grouse and capercaillie, even hare and hedgehog.
But as on their nocturnal flight they neared a solitary hut in the woods or skirted far around the village, thus a wave of new and wonderful smells flooded towards them, making Aalo’s blood flow all the quicker, for now, amidst the smell of cattle, she sensed the smell of ewes and kids and young foals, and this made her swoon and her blood boil, for now she too was one of the wolves.
Still one more scent came their way, wafting out forebodingly from between the forest huts, and so strange and pungent and frightening was this smell that she felt her new wolf’s heart shudder in her breast. At this she saw the other wolves, her sisters and brothers, stop still for a moment, sniff the air, then redouble their speed as they galloped onwards, as if this scent brought with it certain death and destruction and was a sign of the sworn enemy.
For as between the snake, that worm of old, and humans, so the Creator also established an eternal hatred between wolves and mankind, and in this way they are destined to despise each other always.
And at that moment from a far corner of the village Aalo’s sharp lupine ears heard a short crack, followed shortly by a flare and a loud boom like thunder, and with that, blind with fear, they dashed headlong into the darkest shadow of the forest.
Yet even in her new form Aalo too was suddenly filled with true caution; everything was suspicious, as if danger lurked all around her. Thus she carefully sniffed every twig and branch upon the path, as if a wolf pit may be hidden beneath them or a trap may lie set behind the bushes.
Never in her former life had her blood bubbled with such golden glee and freedom’s fancy as now, galloping across the swamp as a werewolf. For such a fury of freedom is unpredictable and forged by the Devil himself, so that he may lure his young victims into the chasm of destruction.
And when she looked more closely at her companions the wolves, as together they ran that Midsummer’s Night the length and breadth of Hiidensaari, to her great surprise she saw amongst them a number of people well-known from her human life.
For running abreast her was another werewolf, the Valber woman from the village of Tempa, and beyond her was the churchwarden and a wealthy landowner from the manor at Suuremõisa; and she knew she was not mistaken, for with her wolf’s eyes she could see more clearly than eve
r she had with her human eyes. As she ran by, Valber bared Aalo her sharp, curved fangs as if to greet her old acquaintance.
Then suddenly they heard the bellowing of the cattle and noticed a heifer that had strayed from the flock at the edge of the meadow.
And upon that very moment Aalo knew that her lupine nature thirsted and craved for that heifer’s blood.
She saw the large wolf, the leader of the pack and much more powerful that the others, as it ran ahead and set upon the heifer, tearing at the veins in its neck.
Thus Aalo was engulfed by a great fever, and she could no longer understand anything clearly as she cast off the final remnants of her former human nature. And at that she joined her sisters and brothers in attacking the heifer, and together they tore it to pieces.
They slaughtered many cows that night, and ewes and young foals too.
And this baptism of blood is the Baptism of Satan as thus he strengthens his union with that which is human.
But as they galloped further and further towards the north-east and the great wolds of Kõpu appeared on the left and Kõrgessaare in front and the open sea began to loom ahead through the white night, the wolves, which had until now remained close together, dispersed and began running alone or in twos.
And at this Aalo found herself running alongside the greatest of the wolves, which she had seen evading the hunt at Suuremõisa.
With that she realised that this was the wolf which had thrice called her to the swamp that evening and which had finally come for her.
And to her surprise Aalo felt that she was the equal of this great, potent beast, and that she could follow his every step though he quickened his pace, and they seemed to be flying across the heaths and the marshlands.
For it was that same ferocious fire burning the blood flowing through their lupine veins and that same glorious glow making their lupine hearts race.
And together these two were the noblest and most splendid of all the forest and of all St. George’s beasts.
The Dedalus Book of Finnish Fantasy Page 2