Chapter 3

A troop of horsemen, consisting of eleven knights and two more persons, approached the Abbey of Tardivel on a sunny winter day - which was uncommon for the north of England - traversing a densely wooded valley. The monastery had been built at the end of the valley, halfway up the north slope. Although the men who had retreated to this abbey had purposely sought the solitude and seclusion of their neighborhood, the monastery was not the only human settlement in this wilderness. On the slope opposite the abbey stood another complex of buildings, somewhat smaller than the abbey, and this was the priory of Combara. It had been founded with the permission of the Abbot of Tardivel to allow some nuns to also retire to this wilderness. And on the valley floor, to the right and left of the flat, with a small river meandering through it, were the huts and sheds of those who tilled the fields and tended the livestock for the monks of the abbey and the nuns of the priory. In addition, the serfs also tried to grow enough crops and vegetables to feed themselves on this narrow strip of land, which was the only area cleared in the valley. This proved to be no easy task here in the mountains, but they had no choice in the matter, for they were not free to leave the valley.

The area between the mountains was not particularly large, and yet it would take the group several hours to reach their destination, for the forest that stood at the entrance to the valley was not only very dense, but there was no trail visible at first glance that led in. Not one to the village by the river, nor any to the two complexes at the other end of the valley. This, however, was a deception - which was obvious to anyone who knew that more people than just a hermit lived here - for the abbey and the priory could not possibly be supplied if no one made it through the forest. After all, the goods that the people in the village could not produce and provide, had to be made accessible to the monks and nuns. And even if they had retreated to this remote part of the country on purpose, there were certainly visitors they wanted to reach them. The route to them, however, had been carefully disguised, and for good reason.

The knights came to this valley for the first time and they had not announced their arrival in advance, so they were not expected by a guide. They were not aware, however, that if they had managed to send a message to the monastery, they would have been in the same situation. It was quite intentional to let visitors find their own way. The men were also not aware that it was not possible to send a message to the monastery if one had not been received by the monks beforehand. They were not aware that they were treated like all newcomers who tried to traverse the forest on their own. However, they were convinced that their destination was right here in this valley and they were also convinced that they already knew who they would meet. They just had to manage to advance into the valley proper.

"Aban, have you finally found the trail?" the leader of the knights demanded to know. The man he had addressed crouched a few meters in front of the group of the others, studying the ground in front of him with an intense gaze. Without turning around, he answered by pointing with his hand to two ruts. These had appeared under a pile of dead wood, which he had previously cleared aside with difficulty, without any of the other men coming to his aid. Only after he was sure that the knight had seen his discovery did he rise and step between two trees that were just far enough apart for a cart to fit through. Again, he pointed with his hand in the direction he believed they should take, but he did not move from the spot.

"Siegward!" the leader ordered one of the knights to his side. Just like himself, the other men had dismounted from their steeds so as not to get into trouble while crossing the forest.

"My Lord?" the tall, stocky man wanted to know.

"Go have a look over there if that's where the trail is at last. I'm tired of stumbling through the woods just because this idiot can't read the tracks." He made no attempt to keep the contempt from his voice that he felt for the man who was supposed to find the path for him. However, this had nothing to do with the fact that they had been in the forest for hours now, because he always spoke like this about and also to the man. Why should he do it in any other manner? The other was not only a slave, but also an infidel. He did not have to show him any respect.

The addressed knight stepped past the man, who - unlike the others - was poorly dressed, in simple brown trews and an equally simple shirt. Only his boots seemed to be of better quality. Although the knight had almost bumped into him, he had not stirred, but had remained standing with his head bowed, as if still studying the ground. This was not the case, but he had quickly learned that his master did not like it when he looked at him or the other men without being told.

"My Lord!" the German knight's voice was heard from the other side of the trees. "There is clearly a path here."

Ballio de Daron, in charge of the other knights, suppressed the need to breathe a sigh of relief. The others didn't need to know how much this wandering in the forest was bothering him. He was a knight, after all, and as such he felt useless between the trees. "Forward!" was all he uttered then, however, before leading his horse by the reins and stepping between the two trees as well, showing no regard for his slave, who had no choice but to jump out of the way.

The other knights, just like a man in a gray cloak, led their horses after de Daron till only Siegward's charger and a nondescript brown gelding were left. The dark-eyed slave walked over to the two animals and took up their reins, then followed the others at a brisk pace. When he passed the German knight, the latter took over his mount again without uttering a word of thanks. In his eyes, Aban was not truly human, and he was certainly not worth paying attention to unless he did not do as he was instructed.

The trail through the forest was now so easy to make out that even a knight who had never had reason to learn how to read tracks could follow it, and so their leader strode ahead, impatient, for he wanted to arrive at their destination at last. In his opinion, it was high time for this, for they had already been traveling in this country for months. And they had to be careful not to be recognized for what they were. Sir Ballio was immensely angered that they had been forced into hiding, but if he wanted to have the chance to do something about this in the future, he had no choice but to be careful. Although he found it tremendously humiliating not to be able to bear the colors he was entitled to, he still knew that there were situations in which he had to curb his justifiable pride. But that had not made this journey any more pleasant for him or his men.

Every day he prayed to God that his information was correct, he prayed not to be mistaken that their destination was located here. And once they reached the place they had been searching for so long, they would not have to hide anymore. But in order to get here, they had traveled through this cursed land for more than half a year before they came across someone who could give them the first real clue. Almost every day of their journey, he had wished they had had more information before they even crossed the Channel. At the same time, of course, he had not forgotten that they had already known before they set out not to know much, but that had not deterred them from their sacred mission. And although their journey had turned out to be very arduous, it had never occurred to them to turn away from their task and return to France empty-handed. Then, finally, they had managed to get the information that led them to this place. The knight was now sure he had finally arrived at his destination. He was also sure God had only wanted to test them beforehand, for they had already failed once in their sacred duty. But now the Lord looked down on them again with benevolence.

And then, despite his joy, a cold shiver ran down de Daron's spine as he thought of what most likely awaited him at his destination. It was not easy, nor without risk, to follow the right path, and he had always known that sacrifices had to be made. He was even aware that he too could be asked to sacrifice something he never expected to lose, but he was willing to pay that price. The reward he would receive was worth this in any case.

Since he was well ahead of his men, the knight allowed himself a sigh of relief when he finally reached the edge of this almost impenetrable forest. He marched a few more meters so that the others could also step out of the shadow of the trees into the sunlight, but then he stopped to get an overview of the area.

In front of him, the treeless slope dropped gently to the bottom of the valley. To his right, some distance away, the river that meandered across the valley floor also emerged from the forest, but here it was still quite narrow and it skipped blithely down over the stones in its bed. Farther down it became more placid and broader, for it was supplied with plenty of water by a multitude of small streams on both sides of the valley. Where the slopes merged into the narrow plain of the river, innumerable small, lopsided sheds and huts were standing, and fences enclosed numerous pens containing animals. At this distance, de Daron was unable to tell if there were sheep or goats grazing on the sloping land, but the pigs that roamed the village and hillsides were unmistakable to him. So were the people who lingered in the fields and gardens or went about their work among the huts. However, this village was not his destination and therefore, after a brief inspection, he paid no further attention to it.

His gaze continued up the valley to its other end, and there for the first time he spotted the buildings that he identified as his destination. Even from this distance, the walls that enclosed the abbey were clearly discernible, as was the massive tower that rose in one corner of the complex. The other buildings, however, were not clearly visible in the haze that had not yet completely dissipated even so near the noon hour. The moment he turned his gaze to the abbey, he felt an aspiration rise in his heart to finally face his Master again, and he was sure he had reached his destination at last.

Before turning to the others, he also took another look at the other complex of buildings that stood on the opposite slope, also surrounded by a wall, and he frowned involuntarily. No one had told him about it, so he wondered who else might have sought refuge here in this valley and whether the people who lived there could prevent him from completing his mission. But then it occurred to him that the abbey would not have allowed anyone to settle here if they had posed a risk, and he was able to turn away from that sight as well.

In turn, he looked at the rest of the knights. Siegward and the other two German brethren, Theobald and Meinrad, were closest to him. Throughout the journey, at least one of them had always been near him, for they had been entrusted with the task of making sure that Ballio de Daron, their leader, reached his destination in any case. Séverin de Gibilet, on the other hand, had positioned himself behind everyone else, even behind de Daron's scribe and the slave, as if he were the lowest of the knights, although that was not the case. In reality, he was Sir Ballio's second-in-command, but they wanted to avoid at all costs that outsiders realized this. The remaining six knights stood in a line next to each other, between the Germans and Avner, the scribe, who in turn tried to keep as much distance as possible from the slave. Although he too was not a Christian, he thought as little of the infidel as did his master de Daron.

"Back there lies our destination, Brethren!" rang out the voice of their leader. "Once there, we will no longer have to hide. And there, we will finally receive the support that will enable us to reach our ultimate goal. We will finally receive the reward that dark forces denied us two years ago. This time, we will not be deterred from taking what is rightfully ours."

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"I am sorry", the monk who had admitted the knights and their two companions to the monastery commenced, "my Lord Daron, but the abbot is not currently in the abbey. He went to the priory this morning to hear the nuns' confessions, and I fear he will not return today either."

Sir Ballio grimaced. They had finally made it to the monastery and now the abbot, the person he assumed would be able to help him, was not in attendance. Now he could only hope that they would at least be allowed to spend the night in the monastery.

The monk, who was a handsome if no longer quite young man, smiled at him. "The reverend Father, however, expected you to arrive here today, and he apologizes for not being able to postpone his visit to the priory. He has charged me with giving you a cordial welcome to Tardivel, my Lord." He paused for a moment, as if to give the knight a chance to speak up. When the other remained silent, however, he went on. "I am, by the way, Brother Geraint. And that one there", he pointed to the other monk who was in the yard of the abbey, "is Brother Elgan. He will take care of your horses and see that your luggage is taken to the guest quarters. And now, if you will please follow me, I will show you where to wash and change and where you will sleep for the duration of your stay here."

"Aban! You stay here and help Brother...", the knight had to ponder for a moment until he remembered the monk's name, for it was not his habit to remember the names of those who were no more than servants. But here at the abbey, he wasn't sure about the monks, and he took it upon himself not to assume anything in that regard for now, until he knew exactly who he was dealing with. "Brother Elgan", he finally resumed, then turned back to Brother Geraint.

"We gladly accept this offer, Brother. Lead on, we will follow you."

The twelve men followed the monk as he crossed the yard and then entered one of the larger outbuildings. A long straight corridor, with several doors leading off to the right and left, divided the house in half and led to another exit at its other end. Brother Geraint stepped through the last door on the left, behind which a staircase led to the floor above.

The stairs were so narrow that they could only climb the steps one behind the other. At the top, they passed through another door that led into a small hall where there stood various tables and chairs, and from which, in turn, several doors led off.

"This floor is entirely at your disposal, my Lord Daron, as long as you stay with us in the abbey. No one will disturb you here. If it pleases you, post a guard at the stairs. I will return in an hour to escort you and your brothers to the Sanctuarium, unless you need more time to change and prepare." The monk looked at him questioningly, but when the knight shook his head, he bowed to de Daron and departed.

It was not long before Aban appeared with the first part of the baggage, but he had to go three more times before he had brought up the knights' belongings and those of Sir Ballio's scribe, including his own meager possessions, which were not even legally his.

In the meantime, the knights had already divided the rooms among themselves. Sir Ballio had chosen the chamber farthest from the stairs, and Aban immediately moved the knight's belongings in there, unpacking the tabard, a clean pair of pants, a clean tunic, and a clean chemise. After placing everything neatly on one of the cots, he returned the remaining two to the hall. That was where he had to go back to anyway, for he knew his master would have further orders for him. But he also wanted to know if he was allowed to set up a pallet for himself in the knight's chamber. If not, he would sleep on the bare floor and that would not be the first time either. But Ballio de Daron had made a very pleased impression after Brother Geraint had welcomed him to the abbey and this could well mean that he was showing some generosity towards his slave. Despite all that Aban had been through since he had become the knight's chattel, he had never ceased to be hopeful, at least in small matters, even though he had long since stopped assuming that he would ever return to his homeland. He knew full well that he would never see Valencia again.

The chamber to the right of Sir Ballio's had been chosen by Sir Séverin, and into the one on the other side the scribe had already disappeared. From these two rooms Aban now took out the surplus cots, but in Avner's he put a table and two chairs. Fortunately, there were three tables and several chairs in the hall, which saved the slave from having to lug the furniture up from the lower floor. Of the surplus cots, he placed three directly in front of Sir Ballio's chamber. On those would sleep the Germans who served as bodyguards for their leader. The remaining six knights would be evenly dispersed in the remaining two rooms. They had done this before Aban could get all the luggage upstairs and now they were getting their bags out of the hall themselves, saving him some work, albeit unintentionally. Osbern de Lamar, Laurens de Guyot and Baldwin of Auvray were in one room, Zirilo de Cabra, Madeo de Valadez and Rémy de Acre in the other. They were already busy slipping out of their soiled clothes to clean themselves with the water provided for them by the monks.

"Aban, lay out clothes for all the brethren! And hurry up with it!" The slave knew better than to waste time and immediately started moving.

"Avner, while we visit the Sanctuarium, please study the scrolls. I want to be prepared to perform a summoning, even if I don't yet know for sure whether we will actually get the opportunity to do so here." The frail-limbed scribe nodded eagerly and immediately returned to his chamber.

One by one, all the knights put on the provided clean clothes, but they also put on their weapons. Then, apparently entirely impassive and relaxed, they waited in the hall for Brother Geraint to come and fetch them. As they stood there upright and proud, with Ballio de Daron in the lead and Séverin de Gibilet only two steps behind him, they made a truly magnificent and, above all, an absolutely invincible impression in their black surcoats with the gleaming golden sun displayed on them.

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Father Eliez watched as some of the nuns who resided in the priory, led by Sister Eliomara, streamed into the huge cavern that stretched far into the hillside behind the complex. When he managed to take his eyes off the group of women for a moment, he glanced at the monks who had lined up behind him, and he wondered - as he did every time he visited - if he had chosen the right ones to accompany him. And, as every time, he could admit to himself that his companions deserved to be here. It just weren't always the same ones who had excelled. This time it were the brethren Geitir, Fulque, Eluard, Thurian and Harailt. And they could not take their eyes off the prioress and the other nuns. Sister Eliomara had surely chosen the other women for the same reasons he had chosen his monks. As they walked past him, he had recognized the sisters Arsinia, Ingirid, Gilberta, Talissa and Briaga, who seemed just as eager as the men. But this was not unexpected, since they all knew exactly what was going to happen now.

Then the abbot's gaze slid further to the statue that dominated the hall. More than three times the size of a human being, the figure of a winged woman towered over the nuns who had gone down on their knees before her. The figure wore a crown upon her head, a staff in one hand and a ring in the other. At her feet crouched two lions as black as her wings, while her naked and shapely body shimmered in a blood-red hue. Her face was marked by both great beauty and the impression of great dangerousness.

The fire bowls set up to the right and left of the statue cast their red-gold and flickering glow on the women in nun's habit, while the torches burning behind the waiting monks cast their shadows far into the room. Everything else blended into the darkness.

Suddenly, the six women leapt to their feet and threw off their wimples and habits to stand before the image, stark naked, their arms raised and their heads thrown back. The Abbot of Tardivel noticed the monks shuffling their feet behind him, and he just managed to suppress a smile, knowing full well how the other men felt. After all, he fared no differently. Nevertheless, the other men were aware, as was he, that they still had to wait. Here in the priory, the women had the privilege of determining the progress of the ritual, and for this reason the monks depended on receiving an invitation from them to participate.

The nuns had intoned a low, guttural chant in which no comprehensible words could be heard. In addition, they let their upper bodies circle gently, without stirring from the spot. While the singing slowly grew louder, their movements became faster and faster.

Suddenly it was possible to understand two words, which were repeated in louder and louder voices, while the women moved faster and faster. "Domina Magna!" they intoned, "Domina Magna," repeating it over and over.

Then more words entered the chant, "Audi nos, Domina Magna! Serva nos, Domina Magna! Benedic nobis, Domina Magna!" until all at once, with a "Tui sumus!" the women not only fell silent, but also slumped over. In the silence that suddenly reigned in the cavern, only their frantic breathing could be heard, resembling the panting of exhausted hounds.

Finally, Sister Eliomara moved at least to the point where she managed to sit up. Slowly, she turned her head and torso until she could look Father Eliez straight in the face. For a moment she remained in this position, but then she moved one of her arms with a sensuality that had absolutely no place in a monastery. This was at last the signal for the men for which they had been waiting impatiently.

As quickly as the women had previously gotten rid of their habits, the monks dropped theirs and then hurried to join the women on the other side of the cavern. The reason for this was very quickly apparent, as the movements and the chanting of the naked women had already ensured that all six men were aroused beyond measure. Firm and thick, the penis of each of them was erect and they were now in a physical and mental state that hardly allowed them to restrain themselves.

But fortunately for them, the women themselves were in the same condition, and so the monks were attracted to the nuns like hunting dogs to their prey. The irresistible urge that dominated all of them ensured that within a very short time six couples had come together, and they also began at once to occupy themselves intensively with the body of their partner. The only sounds that could now be heard in the cavern were the lusty moans and grunts of the twelve people as aroused bodies collided and sweaty skin rubbed against each other. Lips and tongues were now just as busy as fingers to explore various body openings and stimulate sensitive spots, wherever they were found.

If at first six pairs had been formed, each consisting of a woman and a man, this changed after all had been driven to their first climax. Suddenly two men or two women were engaged with each other and elsewhere there were suddenly three or four bodies with their limbs wrapped around each other. It wasn't long before the first were heading toward their next climax.

Each of the people present was mainly concerned with experiencing their next climax and so the stimulation of the bodies of the others also served exclusively this goal. And since none of them was of a particularly gentle or compassionate disposition, the copulations grew wilder and wilder and more and more uninhibited, but also more and more painful. But this pain also ensured that the women and men kept stimulating each other and driving each other to climax until there seemed to be nothing human about them anymore.

Eventually exhaustion seemed to set in, as the motions of the nuns and monks slowed down and then they all lay almost unmoving on the hard floor as they tried to get their frantic breathing back under control. Gradually they became calmer until they closed their eyes because total exhaustion overcame them and they fell asleep - despite the uncomfortable positions.

After a few hours, the first of them awoke again and rose with difficulty. They picked up their clothes on wobbly legs and put on their habits covering their bodies marked with scratches and dried blood, as if they did not notice that they were not unharmed. This was indeed the case, for each of them had been through this countless times. And they had all decided for themselves a long time ago that the pain and the injuries they suffered in this ritual were far outweighed by the reward they would eventually receive. They were all more than willing to make this sacrifice and even much greater ones, and not all of those would involve physical pain. Each and every one of them had also had to endure other kinds of pain in order to even be accepted into their respective magical covens and be able to exercise the kind of power that their Mistress and Master provided them with.

By evening, Father Eliez and Sister Eliomara had recovered to the point where they could sit down to talk. In the meantime, Brother Reginar had come over from the abbey to bring the news that the knights had arrived, whose coming had been foretold to the abbot. The monk had then returned to Tardivel.

"Reverend Father", the prioress began, "I have noticed that your visitors are certainly those who have the potential to summon Baphomet, provided they are properly assisted in doing so. If we succeed in getting him to be favorably disposed toward us, then we will be the most powerful magical coven in many centuries. No one will then be able to stand in our way, neither the king and his barons, nor the church with its bishops, nor other sorcerers and witches, if there are any left in this godforsaken land."

The abbot could very well understand her enthusiasm, but he still had to slow her down a bit. "This is all well and good, Sister, but please remember that we cannot perform this kind of ritual with the knights. They strictly refuse to interact with women, and I am convinced that this even includes nuns. If they would even suspect what we are doing here, they will leave very fast. And in this case, we have to expect that more of their kind will appear here to make sure that they achieve their goal. It won't do us much good, though."

Eliomara grimaced angrily. "These knights can appear here in however great numbers, they will never be able to overcome us. It will only cost them their lives."

"But they are of no use to us dead. We still need them", he reminded her in a gentle voice.

All the prioress could utter now was a soft sigh, for she knew he was quite right.