The Witch Within (17 page)

“If you betray me, may God forgive your soul, for it would be the most vile betrayal of all.”

His face seems innocent and I can sense that he did mean what he has just said, yet I retain my distrust and block away the fervour that he has awakened in me. Edana disturbs us.

“Are you two love birds finished?”

She turns to me with an arrogant grin. Quite a change after the affable smiles that she has been fooling me with for so long. She probably expects me to inform her about what we have spoken about, but I have decided not to say a word. Her grin wanes as her lips drop. For a while it looks like she is about to start crying, but she actually bursts into laughter.

“Do you think I'm so foolish, Talitha? Of course I overheard you talking!”

I give her an angry frown. She scrutinizes me.

“And I'm not at all pleased by what you have caused us!”

“Even though it may cost my life, I could never regret that you didn’t kill that man.”

She reaches for her dagger and the silent threat in her face makes me frantic. I stop her hand mid-motion and give her a persistent look.

“If you still need my help, you will let him live.”

Edana hesitates, but finally tucks the dagger back into her belt.

“Then you must be ready to face our Mother of Darkness.”

I freeze as my vow dawns on me. What have I done? Have I just risked my soul for the life of a man I hardly know? The man who wanted me dead some time ago? I must follow her nevertheless. There is no other choice, because for some strange reason that man is rooted in me. No matter where he goes or what he does from now on, I know that I will never be able to get rid of him. Our souls must have quietly made an oath in some other lifetime or in a world beyond.

*

I stand by the dark altar and draw my breath. I’m afraid to speak, I’m afraid to react in any way. I can only focus on the devious presence that is emerging from the dark.

“Although our clans have shared animosity, identical blood runs through our veins, Talitha. We arose from the same stream of life. There is no reason for us to dwell in the rooted hatred; we must restore peace within our kin. And the Mother of Darkness is the bridge.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh you do, you know you do. We have all buried her in our hearts, under that pile of filth and dirt men have been feeding us. She’s the primordial goddess, the one who doesn’t fear darkness. She gave me strength to start a new life, to build this camp and now she will help me get my revenge on those who caused the horrid lot I and my sister had to bear.”

Her words make me hesitate, whether the Mother of Darkness isn’t just the danger that Edana can’t yet face, or if she could really be the one we all emanated from. If it is so, though, then how could she support Edana in her madness? If she’s the real mother to us, she can’t let Edana’s power spread beyond her control.

“The Mother of Darkness, our only goddess is the real God, Talitha. My guardian has accepted her, and so have I. Now you must do the same.”

The thought of such forceful belief aches and hardens my heart. Had she answered the questions about God that I dared asking before, would it feel so wrong? Had there been no Holy Father, but only Holy Mother, then what would be the point? Isn’t the world made of the ever struggling dualities that ultimately learn to become one? I sense Algíz’s voice trying to reach my inner hearing. It whispers quiet, unclear answers to my questions, yet it can’t seem to reach my cautious mind. Something has been blocking it.

Edana gently lays her fingers on Sorcha’s scarf that still decorates the altar.

“Sorcha has predicted that I will align with my power here on the mount. Now, her presage is finally coming to life. All the sacrifices have been made and the men have been slain, now it’s time to summon the dead slaves.”

I shiver as I realise how similar her words are to those in one of my dreams.

“Sorcha told me that in order to re-join our kin, one must release the hatred and animosity that keeps our spirits in the darkness. And I understand now what I must do. I'm aware that only revenge will ease the pain, only revenge will chase all the demons away.”

I watch her frenzied face and worry that the revenge might in fact release the demons she fears.

“What part do I play in this madness?”

She turns to me, her eyes flaming through the humid chill.

“You remember the marshes attached to this forest on the north side? I know you have been there, where the brave warriors, our fallen ancestors, wait.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Fear has blocked my throat. Edana continues.

“The restless undead/unliving army waiting to be resurrected. Waiting for revenge, just like me. Together we shall wake them and let them haunt the minds of all the men who have ruined our lives and banished our spirits into the dark! And now is the perfect timing, now when they could also help us stop the filth that plans to attack us. If there is any justice in this world, then this prophecy must unfold. And that’s where you come along, sister. I can’t open the gate alone.”

She walks closer to me and her sweaty palms tightly squeeze mine.

“Only a sorceress can awake the spirit warriors.”

My laughter shatters the quiet. I can’t help it; the distress has been released uncontrollably.

“Don’t be silly, Edana. I can’t wake the dead!”

Her face is stern as her hands let go of mine.

“Then your friend dies.”

The dreadful fear comes crawling up my spine again. I must save Nathaniel, but I simply can’t do what she asks of me. Not only because I don't know how to, also because I would never consent to such insanity. I weigh my words this time. There must be a way to reason with this woman. She must have a weak spot.

“Why would you want this, Edana? What have they done to you to make you hate them so much? I know, you don’t want to talk about your past, but I think that I have the right to know, and even more so now.”

Edana paces back and forth nervously and finally makes a decision.

“Alright. I will share my story with you, but on our way, we don’t have much time, we can’t afford to hesitate.”

She throws a dark cape over her head, such that I have never seen her wearing before. I recall the dream I had where a woman in a dark cape prayed over this altar and placed a dead newborn onto it. I don’t have time to disentangle it. I must follow her, because I can’t be sure what she would do if I didn’t succumb to her disturbing plan.

*

As we walk past the camp, I notice that Nathaniel has been surrounded by the three licentious sisters, confronted by their vile voracity. They touch him all over his body and kiss him, although he doesn’t cooperate. I catch his eye. I can tell that he is tempted by the lust that fills the air, although he despises their nasty ways. I'm trying to deliver a silent warning and can only hope that he receives it: That he will restrain himself, and in the case that he cannot, that he at least survives the infernal game. I then turn to Rita, who has been watching me. I think she understands the plea in my face. Not all these women are forsaken to me; I know that some of them are just like me – flies trapped in the web of a sly beast. I send them a quiet forgiveness, aiming it to their minds and hearts as I lock my eyes with each one of them. Somewhere deep inside it feels like a goodbye.

*

Edana and I have been walking for two days now. We passed some familiar places, but also corners of these lands that I’ve never seen before. Edana has been the leader, because she claims to know a shortcut to the ancient battle fields.

She has been trying to convince me that the Mother of Darkness is the key to the true belief, but the more she insists, the more I’ve withdrawn. One would think that we could have established some deeper connection on the way. I felt quite the opposite though. She claimed that she’s my friend, but I sensed that she was rather my enemy, and though she tried to be nice to me, she established only more repulsion between us.

I wished to hear her true story the whole time, but only now, at the end of our sullen journey, she has finally begun to sincerely open up.

“Geira and I have been very close since I witnessed her birth. Our mother almost died that day and so did Geira. She was always so fragile, not only physically, but mentally as well, far too sensitive for this cruel world. I have always looked after her, helping her whenever I could. As we were growing up, the village leader’s son grew fond of Geira. She despised him, but was afraid to tell him how she really felt and so with time, she had unwillingly lead him on. Nonetheless, his father considered our family too poor and insufficient for his son and so he had him married to another girl. Geira also got married relatively young, even sooner than I.

I was not able to conceive a child, but Geira gave birth to a son. Her fragile body could hardly handle one child and she almost passed away while giving birth. From then on, she and her husband had to withdraw from pleasure. The village leader soon died and his son took over. He had set his mind on Geira again and had grown sly in his attempts to get her. Geira’s husband was too afraid of him and so they suffered the intruder for many years. One day, a day after Geira’s son turned five years-old, the locals prepared a big celebration to welcome a newborn into the world– the village leader’s first born son. Strangely, his baby boy died during the celebration. The village leader got mad and very drunk. At one point he attempted to rape Geira. And that’s when she finally burst out and claimed that under no condition she would ever want to be his! A tense atmosphere filled the room at that moment. Everything fell silent and then the village leader uttered:

'How dare you insult me in front of everybody like this you ugly scum! Watch carefully, for I will kill you twice!'

None of us could have imagined the hell that would ensue. Geira’s body weakened due to the growing fear. She fell to her knees and begged her husband and the men in the room:

'Stand up for me, for Christ’s sake! Someone stand up for me! I have a son to raise!'

“And that beast brought three weapons and encouraged her to choose one. She could not react, struck by a suffocating fear, and so he chose one for her. I was frozen to the ground. I simply could not comprehend the frightful reality. He chose a piercingly sharp hook as a weapon and used it to beat her five year old son, that poor innocent child, until he died. Blood gushed all over the room and screams filled the air. Geira has never uttered a word since; for that was really the first time she was killed. The second death awaited her the next morning. They cut her back open the previous night and were going to skin her alive the next day. No one, no one dared to kill that devil! Only I have...I made sure that he suffered a long and painful death.

And then I managed to free Geira from the dark vault that he locked her in and we ran away together. I eventually learned how to fight and promised myself that I would never forgive and never forget the let-down of our men.”

The story makes me feel sick and no matter how hard I try to shake it off, the bitter aftertaste keeps crawling back. Although my body and soul utterly disagree with Edana and her loathsome plans, I understand why she is so bitter and hateful. I can’t find a way to reason with her, her past has no weak spots, it holds only grief and pain.

“God knows that we have suffered too much, but we still have our army of slaves and will finally get our sweet revenge.”

Since Edana pronounced those lines, we have remained quiet. Neither of us dares to disturb the tense silence that keeps spreading around with each and every step we make. Too long, far too long is the road into the dark.

*

I stand at the threshold of the forest, facing the murky valley of the yellow green marshes, the long gone battle fields. I notice that the two beeches nearby are intertwined and resemble the letter Thurisaz. I know what it means. I recall it precisely. It's time.

I sense creeping steps approaching me from behind and turn to see something invisible in the dark, something that is slowly manifesting into form and light. I feed the vision with my fear and therefore I'm aware that it's becoming real. I wince when I sense someone’s cold sweaty fingers climbing up my spine, but then they clutch me tight and freeze me to the ground. Edana festively opens her arms, as if calling upon some distant realms:

“We have to stop the danger that marches towards our sacred mount! We have to stop them all. Their minds must become possessed by the spirits of these restless warriors and cause them to become their own murderers! Then all others will follow. Awake our warrior slaves, sister. Open the curse!”

She turns to me, flames in her eyes; she has become completely mad now. For a while she just silently gapes at me, but then a creepy bliss takes over her face and she whispers:

“She is here.”

I want to object, but am muted. Another voice starts speaking through me without my consent and the piercing sharp voice grows louder with each word it says:

“Come, my warrior slaves, your time has come!

March out of the shadows, let me hear you hum.”

Every part of me resists the power that has banished me from my own body. The dark force rapidly takes over me. I perceive that the hands that clutched my shoulders now forcefully spread my arms. I gaze at the bleak landscape as a dark cloud spreads over my mind hastily. Through the haze I detect grinning faces coming at me from all the directions. Their glaring eyes seek a path in the mist. I've seen them before. They guided me to these lands, when all my hopes failed, and now again, the undead/unliving warriors march forward at the end of the day, humming in a familiar way:

“Why, dear child, why have you opened our realm?

We have been waiting, waiting here to die.”

I gaze at the faces, speechless, horrified. What have I done? Grandmother! Please don’t let me pass on to the dark side! Let there be guidance, let there be light! As soon as my mind utters the desperate plea, I start sensing that Algíz is near. She breaks through the mist, her face aghast. I urge her to help me, but the dark force draws its sharp nails into my arms. My limbs become heavy, like the first time I entered Edana’s cave. I'm not my own any more. I'm helpless in her freezing cold hands.