Chapter 3

Beatrice. His mind cried her name. He had been a seminary student and she, a novice, studying to take her vows. She had been beautiful, quiet and gentle and so filled with joy and love for God that she had captivated his heart. He had been unable to take his vows and unable to justify a life that would keep her from him. Though their marriage had made it impossible for them to continue serving the Church as they had originally intended, they had been so happy, so content. When she had become pregnant, they had rejoiced. But shortly after giving birth, she had begun to change.

Her deep love for him and for their daughter, Agnes Maria, as well as the physical strain of a difficult birth had awakened something inside of her that she was unable to control. She stopped eating and rarely slept. She began to suffer from periods of intense sadness, a darkness that he could not pierce through. She told him that she received "visions" that forced her to feel the pain and anguish of all those she came in contact with, as though she could read their every thought, even the deepest and darkest desires of their hearts. Eventually, she would not even leave her room because everyone that came near her caused her such immense pain…even him. The people in the village began to whisper that his Beatrice had become a witch.

Then, just as suddenly, she seemed to improve. The morning that Beatrice emerged from her bedroom and smiled at him, bathed and wearing fresh clothes, his heart had leapt with hope. God had returned her to him. She had reached down and cradled Agnes Maria, clutching her tightly to her breast and murmured quiet endearments to her. "Juliano," she had told him quietly, "I am going to walk with Maria. It is a beautiful day and I have not seen the sun shine in so long." He had watched her disappear down the winding path from their small house and he had prayed prayers of thanksgiving to God for her return.

The squalling of the hungry Maria had alerted the village children. They found her lying on the embankment of a rumbling stream, swollen with spring thaw from the mountains. Amid the rushing waters had floated Beatrice.

Juliano had lain prostrate on the chapel floor for two days before he had been able to read the letter Beatrice had left him.

My dearest heart,

I cannot control this power that has taken my body. I once believed I could serve God with all my being. Now I have found that I am weak and filled with the devil. I cannot allow him to control my soul any longer. I am returning my body to the Lord and I ask that you pray for my soul my love. I pray that God will have mercy on me. Please forgive me love. Ave Maria, watch over my daughter and protect her from this curse. Look upon this mother with favor. .

Beatrice

One month after his wife's death, Juliano left Maria in the care of her relatives and returned to the monastery and his vows. Far from blaming God for taking Beatrice from him, Juliano had dedicated his life to saving the souls of others who were cursed with devil powers. This was how Solomon had found him and trained him for the hunt. By hunting those using witchcraft, Juliano sought to bring them release and redemption. He had been called to bring fallen souls back to God. As the years passed, he had risen to the heights of the organization, eventually becoming a trainer of hunters.

"Solomon," Juliano thought ruefully, "the great Hebrew king renowned for his wisdom and judgment. Better to have named the organization 'Saul' after the king who hunted and exterminated witches and yet consulted a witch himself." (1)

For isn't that what Solomon had done? They used witches to hunt other witches and yet told the hunters that they were 'craft users'. They justified their actions by saying that those who embraced their powers were dangerous and a threat to humanity and to the Church. "But had they always judged fairly?" Juliano wondered. Were all witches monsters incapable of knowing good from evil? Indeed, to his mind that had been what the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge had really gifted to mankind. An everlasting knowledge that humanity, and all creation, was flawed and incapable of redeeming itself.

Juliano turned to look at Robin again. He had faith in her now. She was not addicted to her own power. His Robin had not changed though she had learned to fly. The memory of his previous orders to hunt her sickened him. Why had he trusted the word of the Inquisitor?

His shoulders slumped while his brain continued to churn with unanswerable questions. Could she be the new Eve who could return to the Tree of Knowledge and reverse the curse the original Eve had bestowed upon mankind? How could he continue to protect her?

Juliano closed his eyes again and began to pray.

(1) In case you're interested in reading about Saul and the Witch of Endor, the biblical reference is 1 Samuel 28:7-14