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"Lucifer's Scourge"
An Avengers Fanfiction
The fifth in a series of early John Steed adventures designed to bridge the year and a half between broadcast episode 3.26, "Lobster Quadrille" (Cathy Gale, March 1964), and episode 4.01, "The Town Of No Return" (Emma Peel, September 1965)
Follow-up to episode 2.05, "Warlock" (Cathy Gale, January 1963)
Disclaimer: Some copyrighted characters have been borrowed
Steed faces the past. Rita is spellbound.
"Black magic is based on the premise that evil, intelligently controlled, is more powerful than good." -Catherine Gale
January 1963
A figure in a black robe stood in front of a gathered circle of acolytes. He pulled back his hood to reveal a face with dark eyes, fair hair, and a scruffy beard. There was undeniable charisma in his voice as Cosmo Gallion addressed his followers.
"This ceremony hasn't been performed in over a hundred years, so we're all very privileged to watch it tonight." He placed a clear-walled box containing a viper next to the altar. "It can only be performed when the subject of the ritual is a woman of unique occult qualities." He paused for effect. "I, your Warlock, have found such a woman."
The sound of tribal drums filled the room as Julia, Gallion's chief acolyte and current lover, started to dance seductively around a skull in the center of the circle. All eyes in the room were glued to her writhing body as Gallion's silky smooth voice called out his command.
"Will with me... Will with me... Catherine Gale."
His face was contorted in concentration as he attempted to reach his victim. Miles away, in her bedroom, Cathy felt the first stirrings of contact.
The ritual proceeded frenetically as the speed of the drums increased. Julia's body was a blur now. In a small storeroom in the back of the building, John Steed was attempting to burn away the bonds that held him prisoner using a box of matches.
The Warlock increased the urgency of his command.
"Will with me Catherine Gale!"
A mirror decorated with mystic sigils had been mounted on the wall opposite the door. Gallion looked into it, using the force of his will to shape reality. In the mirror he saw the door open, and Cathy's face appeared in answer to his summons. Gallion turned away from the mirror to address Cathy as she walked through the door and down the stairs to stand opposite him. The sound of the drums ceased.
"What is the Law?" Gallion asked sternly.
"Do what thou wilt is the whole of the Law," Cathy answered softly.
Julia led Cathy to the altar. Cathy made no move to resist as she compliantly reclined on top of the marble surface. In the back room, Steed had finally managed to free himself using the matches, although it would take several weeks for the burns on his wrists to heal.
Gallion stood over the helpless form of Cathy and slid a dagger from the sleeve of his black robe. It glistened in the lamplight as he aimed it at the center of her breast. Just as he was about to plunge the blade into Cathy's heart, her hand shot out and intercepted his wrist. A quick twist caused him to drop the dagger and fall to his knees; Cathy kicked both Gallion and Julia away and drew her gun, firing it once into the air. The room was silent for an instant as the acolytes stared at the armed woman standing over their Warlock. Steed burst through the door and ran down the stairs.
The acolytes restlessly moved around the room to surround the two intruders. Cathy's gun would be insufficient to stop them if they all decided to attack at once. Steed came over and stood back to back with her; he was unarmed, but ready to sell his life dearly, if it came to that. Cathy smiled grimly as she felt the comfort of Steed's warm body behind her. There would be no way she would rather go.
"Come here often?" Steed addressed her over his shoulder.
"This is my first visit," Cathy said wryly. "I don't think I'll be asked back again."
Just then, Gallion rose from the floor. His eyes sparkled with an unearthly light. He picked up the box containing the viper and walked steadily towards the intruders. Cathy could feel Steed tensing his muscles for action.
Then, as if all energy had been sucked from him, Gallion dropped the box and collapsed into the unholy circle. His mouth moved, but seemed unable to form words. His hand groped and found the skull, clutching it as if it could provide him the power he needed. Then he sprawled out onto the floor, motionless. The skull rolled from his hand.
Julia ran to the side of her fallen lover. A look of horror filled her face as she turned to Cathy.
"You killed him!"
-oOo-
Afterwards, Cathy and Steed had stopped by the pub for a pint. Cathy drank down a generous swallow from the mug of ale that sat in front of her.
"I needed that." Cathy smacked her lips. "What about Gallion?" she asked.
Steed arched his eyebrows. "The doctor said he died of heart failure."
"In the long run, who doesn't?" Cathy replied grimly. She turned away from the bar to watch the game of darts in the corner.
"The point is," she continued, "Gallion had complete faith in his power to harness evil." She turned to face Steed and gave him a knowing glance.
"But he also believed that if he failed, that same power would destroy him."
-oOo-
August 1964
The center of the room was occupied by The Circle. Ancient symbols and Hebrew letters marked the various points of the compass upon it. To one side, facing east, was The Altar. A figure clad in a black robe stood nearby, addressing a group of followers. He was equipped as every Black Magician should be: next to him were his bell, book, candle, and sword; and in one hand he held a mighty rod made from virgin hazelwood, cut on the day of Mercury and properly anointed and consecrated.
"I am your Magus," the figure proclaimed. "To this point, our efforts have been puny and inconsequential—finding gold, cursing enemies with ill fortune, acquiring women for our own sexual gratification. Today, we will undertake a ritual that is seldom attempted, and even less often survived. I, your Magus, will endeavor to enter into a pact with the Dark Ones."
A rumble of nervousness swept through the gathered acolytes.
"What is the Law?" the robed Magus called out. The answer came in unison.
"Do what thou wilt is the whole of the Law," they replied solemnly.
"Take your positions around The Circle," he ordered. The acolytes scrabbled to their knees and spread out a respectable distance away from the zone of conjuration. Hazy fumes flowed from censers on the floor, and the robed figure was scarcely visible in the light cast by the oil lamps suspended on chains from the ceiling. He pulled back his hood to reveal coal black eyes, an intelligent visage, and a scruffy beard of fair color.
Cosmo Gallion, the Magus, spoke the words to begin the ritual.
"Emperor Lucifer, Master and Prince of Rebellious Spirits, I adjure thee to favor me with the presence of your mighty minister, Lucifuge Rofocale." He took the hazel blasting rod he held in his hand and aimed it directly at the center of The Circle. Sparks flew from the location and a dull glow began to coalesce.
"I desire to make a Pact with him," Gallion continued, as if feeling the need to explain his actions to the Prince of Darkness. "Command him to leave the Lower Levels and come forth to communicate with me." For a second time, the Magus aimed his wand at the Circle. Smoke was now beginning to pour from the spot.
"Rofocale, I command and conjure you in the Name of the Mighty Adonai, to appear without noise, tumult, or evil smell, to respond in a clear and intelligible voice, point by point, to all that I shall ask of you." For the third and final time, Gallion aimed the rod at The Circle. This time, there was a high, keening sound, as if the air was being forcibly split in two to allow for the passage of an entity into this realm.
A hideous figure reeking of sulfur was standing in The Circle. His body danced with poisonous snakes; flames flickered around every joint and orifice, which were many, since the shape was as unhuman as any that the acolytes could have imagined. The demon spoke.
"I am here! What do you seek of me? Why do you disturb my repose?" There was a thunderous boom as Rofocale stamped the floor with an appendage that looked part claw, part hoof.
"It is my wish to make a Pact with the Dark Ones, to have the support of one of your servants. Failing this, I will torment you with the potent words from the Clavicle of Solomon and blast you with my rod." Gallion waved the wand menacingly over his head in a circular motion, as if gathering energy, and then pointed it at the demon's feet. A tremendous explosion shook the room, and fire and smoke poured from the spot. The demon didn't seem to be at all alarmed by this display, and merely smiled in amusement.
"I cannot comply with a request on such terms, nor on any others, unless you agree to give yourself over to me in twenty years, to do with your body and soul as I please."
"I agree to the terms," Gallion answered easily. "Here is my pledge." He tossed a rolled piece of virgin parchment into The Circle. The parchment slowly faded from view, as if it had lost the will to maintain its reality in this world.
"Very well. Your pledge is in order," Rofocale nodded. "I will designate one of the seventy-two demons of the pit to give you aid. When you require it, call upon the Great Duke Dantalian. Observe the ritual closely, or you will be destroyed utterly, and your soul will be mine."
Gallion smote the ground with his blasting rod, and Rofocale disappeared. The acolytes trembled.
He turned to face his followers. Gallion's eyes were piercing and black; his voice was silky and smooth as he made his proclamation.
"I am Lucifer's scourge, come to punish those who deny his will."
Then, in a low voice, he added smugly: "You will be first, John Steed."
-oOo-
An involuntary shudder went through the body of John Steed as he stood in the desolate back alley. It was deep summer, but the morning air still seemed to hold a chill. Perhaps it was caused by the corpse with the large stab wound in its chest, right through the heart, that was sprawled at Steed's feet.
The alley was only a few blocks away from Cathy's old apartment, although this was surely just a coincidence. Her flat now had a new tenant, and all trace of his comrade-in-arms had been removed. He hadn't realized until recently how much he had come to miss Cathy—the strong will, the sharp tongue, the gun tucked in the garter, and the same love of danger and adventure that Steed himself felt when working undercover.
The Ministry had provided him a research assistant, librarian Rita Fox, who was in every way Mrs. Gale's intellectual equal; but she was often out of her element once the fighting started. Still, she was a trouper, and on more than one occasion had proved that she didn't fold under pressure. One-Ten had indicated that he was trying to find a suitable partner for Steed outside of the Ministry, but that it could take as long as a year before such a placement could be made.
Steed stooped over the dead body, supporting himself with the handle of his umbrella. The courier hadn't even been carrying any dispatches; there could be no possible reason for wanting him dead. But there was no lack of clues at the murder scene; a complex symbol had been drawn in chalk on the nearby pavement, along with two Latin words. Steed hastily sketched a copy of the symbol on a small pad of paper, and wrote the words down exactly as they appeared next to it: LUCIFUGE ROFOCALE. Then Steed noticed something else near the body. He held it up in the early morning sunlight.
It was a raven's feather.
-oOo-
"I don't understand," the acolyte said. "Why was it necessary to kill the Ministry courier?"
"I've been watching carefully for the past year and a half," Gallion explained. "Whenever a government official is killed, Steed shows up, like some avenging angel. Once he sees the body, he will call his woman to help him."
"His woman?"
Gallion nodded. "He works with a woman. Through her, we can destroy him."
The acolyte looked puzzled. "Why not just attack Steed directly?"
Gallion ignored the question. "It was my inability to control the woman that led to my downfall last time," he said thoughtfully. "I won't make that mistake again."
"What is different?"
"This time I have more weaponry. I have enlisted the aid of the Dark Ones."
"You mean that—thing—you were talking to during the ritual?" The acolyte could not hide his distaste.
"You presume to criticize me?" Gallion threw a severe glance his acolyte. "What is the Law?" he demanded.
"Do what thou wilt is the whole of the Law," the acolyte answered meekly.
Gallion nodded his approval. "Do not forget it." He continued his discourse.
"We'll send Slag again; he did excellent work with the courier. He is to follow the woman who works with Steed. Her name is Catherine Gale. When he finds her alone, she is to be taken, and brought to me. The woman must not be harmed. Drugs may be used if needed to subdue her."
The acolyte simply nodded. It would be done.
Gallion's gaze was unfocused and his voice sounded distant.
"Steed's woman will be the Vessel," he said.
-oOo-