Chapter 19
The Lesser Sabbat
Gottestag, Gotland
The Royal Chapel in Castle Engelsberg was duly impressive, but it was the Cathedral of Saint Michael the Avenger that was the grandest church in Gottestag, second only to the Cathedral of Salvator Mundi in Wurmsburg, which was presided over by the Pontiff himself. The Rächerskirche, as it was also known, was the headquarters of the Order of the Sword of Saint Michael and the seat of old Bishop Friedman before he fled the capital with King Amalric.
Maus found himself reflecting on what the cathedral had been while looking at what it had become. He was reminded of the desecrated temple they found in the western wastelands, where the Witch Queen was reborn in the body of Loreley. Much as the old idol of that temple had been cast down and broken, so too had the crucifix in the apse been broken, along with the large statue of Saint Michael the Archangel conquering the Dragon and all the other statues of assorted angels and saints. The icons were covered with the blood of sacrifices and the relics smashed into pieces. The evidence of the ruin was left as a testament against the old faith as the new one reigned in its place. The same three-bodied idol of Hecate that the Empusae had brought to the temple in the wastelands now oversaw the defiled altar.
It was the night of the sabbat. The Christen worshipped on Sunday, the Juden on Saturday and Muselmanen on Friday, but for the Hexen it was Monday. Besides being the goddess of witchcraft, Hecate was also the goddess of the moon, so the day of the moon was the most fit in all the week, though there were also greater sabbats according to the phases of the moon and the seasons. This weekly observance was sometimes called the Lesser Sabbat or the Small Sabbat. Hecate herself only presided over the festivals of the solstices and equinoxes. The festivals of the new moons and the full moons were administered by the Grand Matriarch of the Empusae, but this night the Grand Matriarch oversaw this Lesser Sabbat because she knew that the Witch Queen herself was in attendance, though hidden from view of the common worshippers in the special chamber where the Bishop could observe worship without actively participating. Hecate was seated in the Bishop's chair, with Maus to her right and Gisela to her left and Hekation huddled at her feet like a faithful dog.
The ritual began with thirteen peals of the bells and then a procession toward the altar. The Grand Matriarch led twelve witches, six to the left and six to the right, and crawling on the ground beside them were thirteen former warrior-priests of the Order of Saint Michael, headed by Bishop Friedman's own vicar-general, Father Christoph. They were dressed in rags and had all been lamed in both legs. Any defiance they may have once had was long since gone, having been quite thoroughly beaten out of them. The lesser witches went to one side or the other while the Grand Matriarch stood in the center. The first thing they did when they turned to face the worshippers was to step on the captive priests, yet another statement of the Witch Cult's supremacy.
Maus' jaw went on edge. It would have escaped the notice of most, but not Hecate.
"You never have enjoyed these little ceremonies, my love," she said. "You have said you were no great man of the Faith, yet you mislike these displays."
"Perhaps I am not suited for religion of any stripe, my queen," Maus replied. "I know this is necessary to confirm your reign. The Church would never stand for you to rule over them."
"Their choices are to kneel of their own free will or to be made so that they never rise up again, as it is with these men here."
"Yes, my queen."
"How was it when the Church first came to these lands?"
"I am no student of history, my queen," Maus replied. "I believe the way it went was that the kings confessed the Faith, then the vassals, and the smallfolk went along with it. You might find some superstitions and such left from the old ways, but so long as no one made a big display of heathenism, the Church overlooked it."
"I do not go so far," Hecate said. "Many have bent the knee and yet they do not offer sacrifices in my name. I do not send my minions into every little town and village tearing down shrines and putting country parsons to the sword. The only thing I cannot abide is open defiance."
"You could not reign if you did."
"In my day, there were many gods. You could not afford to be too jealous."
"I seem to recall the priests say that God's name is Jealous."
"With such worshippers, I would believe it."
Hecate turned her attention back to the ritual. A young maid and a crone made their way down the nave, one leading a lamb and the other a kid of the goats. The maid with the lamb took her place at the Grand Matriarch's right and the crone with the kid of the goats stood at her left. The Grand Matriarch placed her hands on each animal's head and intoned in a loud, clear voice, "Hecate Enodia, guide us on our way, whether our journey takes us on the left-hand path or the right-hand path... or on the third way hidden from our eyes, which you reveal only to those who gain your favor."
The maid and the crone then took knives and cut open the necks of the lamb and the kid. The Grand Matriarch reached down to dip her hands in the blood of each as it spilled out onto the floor, then held up her bloodied hands and said, "The life is in the blood. Now take this offering of blood, Our Lady, and may you grant us your protection and your guidance as we go on our way."
The Grand Matriarch turned and approached the idol, continuing to hold up her hands. She bowed and then smeared the blood on the breasts and the pudendum of the maid-form, then did the same for the mother-form and lastly for the crone-form. As she did this, Maus could not fail to notice Hecate touching herself, as if she was responding to the touch of the Grand Matriarch's hand. Maus thought it wise to say nothing, but apparently Gisela took notice of his noticing, and clicked her tongue contemptuously.
Hecate was holding her hand over her heart as she restrained her breathing. Her eyes were closed as if she were in a trance, but she did not let the Empusa's actions escape her.
"Who does your heart hate most, Gisela?" she asked. "Is it my Champion for having a man's desires or is it I, for choosing this body to experience the worship of my faithful instead of your own?"
"How could I hate you, my Lady, you whom I serve?" Gisela replied, though if she gritted her teeth any harder, she might break them. "And what would it profit me to hate the one who has your favor and your love?"
"Do you think you can deceive me?" Hecate asked. "Do you think your heart is secret from me? Yet you know place. You say the right words and you do not openly defy me, and so I tolerate you, as I tolerate so much in my domain, as I have said."
Gisela bowed her head.
"My Lady is indeed merciful to so flawed a vessel as her servant."
Gisela's words had all the warmth of a midwinter's night. Maus wondered how she still served after all this time, but even though she was not well-loved by her mistress, she nevertheless had a place of honor, power and influence. That was enough for most men to bear many things, and many women as well, it would seem.
The ritual continued with the sacrifices being laid upon the altar that the signs might be divined from their innards. First was the kid of the goats. Maus did not know the reason for it, nor had he ever felt the need to ask, but much was made of the liver. For his part, he did not see much use for liver besides being broiled over a bed of onions, but he would not give voice to such thoughts, especially not at a time like this.
As the Grand Matriarch was cutting apart the lobes of the liver, black bile began to leak out. Though Maus knew little of divination, he did at least know that this was seen as an ill omen.
"Leofwina's hand is normally surer than that," Hecate said. "I trust she is not being slack because this is no more than a Lesser Sabbat."
If a sure hand was all it took to avoid ill omens, then a skillful diviner could govern Fate as people perceived it, and if you could guide the hand of the diviner...
As if she knew Maus' thoughts, Hecate glanced at him and said, "It seems you have come to realize something about Fate, my love."
"It does not seem to be so much guided by an unseen hand," Maus replied.
"The flesh can only reveal fleshly things to fleshly eyes," Hecate said. She traced what appeared to be the shape of an eye on her forehead and continued, "If you truly wish to see beyond the Veil, only the spirit can reveal the things of the spirit."
"That sounds like something the priests would say."
"There is perhaps more in common with our beliefs than they would like to admit."
Gisela could not restrain herself from clicking her tongue again. To this, Hecate only smiled.
"More than some of our own would like to admit as well, it would seem."
Maus had never been curious on the subject before, but now that it was being discussed, he found himself asking, "Is there any meaning to this or is it just mummery for the sake of the simple?"
"Divination such as this is little more than a mummer's show, yes," Hecate said, "but the sacrifice itself, there is much meaning there. It is as Leofwina said, the life is in the blood, and in that life is power for those who can draw it out. With each sacrifice, my power grows and the power of my followers grow. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the power."
Hearing Hecate's words, Maus thought on half-remembered teachings from his youth and concluded that the witches and the priests really did have more in common than either would like to admit.
The Grand Matriarch had finished with the kid of the goats and was cutting apart the lamb. When she cut open the bowels, they burst forth with worms, surely not a good omen and not one any skill on the Grand Matriarch's part would have avoided.
"What does that reveal?" Maus asked.
"That there was a reason I thought that poor beast looked rather thin."
Gisela spoke up, saying, "My Lady, whether you believe in such omens or not, they believe it."
She pointed out to masses of worshippers, many who were whispering amongst themselves.
"Let them mutter now," Hecate said. "We will be more selective in our sacrifices during the festival of the winter solstice. The good omens we will show the people then will outweigh a hundred sacrifices such as this."
"That is more than a month away, My Lady," Gisela said. "The people grow restless."
"The people are always restless, Gisela," Hecate said. "Let them talk. Let them fret. They will do so no matter what we do."
Gisela clicked her tongue.
"You are becoming a little too careless with that tongue of yours, Gisela," Hecate warned. "I would hate to have to tell Maus to cut it out."
Gisela bowed her head.
"Forgive me, My Lady."
"On your knees," Hecate told her. "Show yourself to be the penitent and I shall forgive you."
Gisela knelt down. Even after all these years, she did not have the discipline to hide her anger, yet she submitted all the same and that was what Hecate demanded of her. Indeed, Maus saw more ill omen in the half-tamed witch than all the ill-bled livers and worm-ridden bowels in the world.