Magic, Sorcery and Witchcraft

by Stas Borodin

  “Of course not,” Mash reassured me. “I’m sure the girl doesn’t want to harm you. She is very lonely. A little bit of human warmth – that’s all she needs.”

  “What did she say about the festival?” Ash asked.

  “She said it is a very important day for her family.” I began to remember. “She said that her father would soon become a very important man and that everyone will respect him even more. He is likely to be appointed as foreman, or even the head of the whole felling. Their family will become wealthy, and they will be able to marry off her younger sisters.”

  “That’s it,” nodded Mash. “Now everything is clear.”

  “What?” I shouted, losing my temper. “Just spit it out, old man!”

  “Calm down, brother,” Ash cut me off. “In two days’ time your girl will be sacrificed to Mithraa.”

  It is impossible to get used to bad news, no matter how hard you try. It was like a blow to the head. My thoughts became sluggish and confused, as if someone had opened a door inside my head and filled it with stinking smoke. My eyes watered and I coughed.

  “Too bad that we drank all the warra,” Ash sighed. “We could use some right now.”

  “But there has to be a way!” I was beside myself with anger. “It’s not fair! How dare her father do such a thing for his personal gain! How could he call himself a father?”

  “You don’t understand.” Mash stopped me. “He’s not doing this for the money. As far as I know, the girls are selected by a draw, and each woodsman is prepared to see that the choice will fall on his child. This is a great honour, my boy. Just imagine, it’s like God himself pointed the finger at you.”

  I raised my hand, interrupting the scout. “And what would happen if she is not a virgin?”

  “Well, that is, without a doubt, a brilliant plan,” Ash grinned. “A bit risky, though, if you ask me.”

  ✽✽✽

  At dawn the woodsmen left the city. I quickly gathered my belongings and glanced out the window. Our saddled horses were already at the hitching post; this meant that the scouts were ready. Ash caught me by the hand. “I have to warn you, my young friend,” he said, with a grim expression on his face, “you could be terribly disappointed.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. Ash was in his element. “Can you talk without innuendos?”

  “Sometimes, when it comes to honour, human life is worthless,” the scout explained. “Are you ready to sacrifice your life for honour? Would you do it? Willingly and with great pride?”

  I finally figured out what he was trying to say and I didn’t like it.

  “Your girlfriend is just like you,” Ash frowned. “She would not save her life at the cost of her family’s honour. Don’t insult her. Say your goodbye, brother, and spend your last hours together. Orvad witness, that’s what she needs most!”

  Disheartened, I went to the pier. Ilaah was there, waiting for me. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. My heart stopped for a moment. I grabbed the railing, and took several deep breaths. Fighting nausea, I straightened up, trying to look calm.

  We sat side by side in silence, swinging our legs in cold black water. Ilaah took my hand and smiled.

  “I see that you are sad,” she said. “I see that you don’t want to part with me…”

  “I don’t,” I muttered. “Never.”

  “You know”—she laid her head on my shoulder—“it’s inevitable. Like it or not, but one of us has to go. I see a long road ahead of you, Marcus, and I’m not the path that you should choose.”

  “But I am here for you.” My heart quickened, and hope stirred up once again somewhere deep inside. “My horse is ready, Ilaah, just say the word!”

  “No, Marcus,” she sighed. “We are so different! Your gods will not take me, so, please, don’t make them angry, and don’t go against their will.”

  “But it’s not fair!” I protested.

  “Life is not fair,” she said quietly.

  “How can you say that?” I gasped. “How can you know?”

  “I know,” she said firmly. “I’ve seen what happens to those who refuse the gods.” She held my hand. “Come with me, Marcus. Perhaps this will convince you.”

  We left the city and went along a narrow trail, winding between ancient trees. The woodmen did not come here often and the trees were standing untouched. They were old, huge, towering like some ancient columns, covered in thick green moss.

  The trail was barely noticeable, sometimes it disappeared altogether under the fallen leaves, but Ilaah guided me with confidence, and after half an hour of walking, we came to a clearing.

  “This place is cursed,” she explained. “Only the cursed come here.”

  “Why are we here?” I was surprised. “Are we cursed too?”

  “No. Don’t be silly!” Ilaah laughed. “And we will never be, if we listen to the gods.”

  The bark had been stripped from two trees; their white trunks writhed grotesquely, curving above the ground. Skulls were hanging on the branches, tied by the hair. Altogether there were about forty. Gusts of wind pushed them against each other, filling the air with an eerie rhythmic clatter. The skulls were yellow, with gaping eye sockets and missing teeth.

  “Many years ago, before I was born,” Ilaah started, “the First Cursed walked among my people. Only at that time, no one knew that they were cursed. They lived happily and in prosperity, complying with all the covenants of the ancient gods. The young man was called Listii, and the girl was called Anii. They had been friends since childhood and had always walked hand in hand.”

  Ilaah went to the skulls and put a hand on one of them.

  “Once Mithraa chose to take Anii, but Listii refused to let her go. They ran away together and hid so well that even the wind could not find them. My people were looking for them day and night, but all in vain.” Ilaah came to me and took my hand. “Then, my people came to Mithraa and learned from him where the runaways were hiding. The gods are cruel. A terrible and painful death awaited the lovers. Listii and Anii, along with their whole families, were put to death.”

  I looked at the skull and couldn’t utter a word.

  “It could have been different story if they had listened to the elders.”

  We went back to the wharf and sat in silence for a long time, watching the current carry away the fallen leaves. I wanted to talk about many things, but I knew that all this had no sense any more. The time for words had passed.

  Like a shining executioner’s axe, the sun inexorably went down to the horizon, counting our last hours together.

  “It is time, my girl,” came from behind my back. I looked around and saw Ilaah’s father. He was wearing a new white shirt with beautiful embroidery around the neck. He looked solemn and festive.

  “I have to go,” Ilaah said with a smile. “I want to ask you one thing, Marcus. Please come to the feast. I want to see you as long as possible.”

  Chapter 7

  “Damn!” I snapped, digging my fingers into my hair. “Damn!”

  The scouts looked at me curiously.

  “So what did she say?” Mash asked.

  I gritted my teeth in response.

  “Don’t take it so much to heart!” Ash raised a finger. “You have only one heart, boy, you should protect it.”

  Mash chuckled, sitting down on the bench by the window. Red flashes from outside in the street lit up his predatory profile.

  “She wants me to be present at the ceremony.” I swallowed loudly. “What do you say to that?”

  “Pfft!” spat Mash.

  Ash shook his head. “Incredible!” The scout’s eyes narrowed. “Such a cruel girl.”

  “But I promised!” I tried to protest, but without much enthusiasm.

  “You promised?” Ash wasn’t going to back down. “You know, we attended ‘The Preparation of Mincemeat’ once. Though we were dead drunk at the time, I still remember my hamstrings shaking when I recall the whole ordeal. Come on, brother, go to bed now, and in
the morning we’ll take a caravan to Ismarga.”

  I squeezed my trembling hands between my knees and raised my chin defiantly. “No, Ash. I can’t do that. She’ll wait for me! I have to do everything by the rules!”

  “You’re making a mistake.” Mash grunted and turned away. “I will not go with you to the feast.”

  “You’re right.” I wanted to cheer myself up. I really didn’t like how my friends had reacted. Perhaps they were right and it was me who was acting like a stupid selfish boy.

  “Do you know why we called this ceremony ‘The Preparation of Mincemeat’?” Ash snorted loudly. “Because afterwards they make meat pies from the sacrificial meat.”

  I felt uneasy. I could not imagine such a thing. And as for watching it of my own free will…

  “I’ll go alone.” I decided finally. “I can’t break my promise.”

  “As you wish.” Ash shrugged with feigned indifference. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I ran headlong out of the inn; I needed a breath of fresh air to clear my head. My trembling legs moved by themselves, following the ornate and cheerful woodsmen. It was a strange eerie feeling.

  The scouts caught up with me a few minutes later and dragged me to the side.

  “I’ll be damned if I let you go alone!”

  “Drink this.” Mash gave me a handful of pills. “You’ll be fully awake, but your feelings will be kinda dull for a while.”

  “Come on, bro,” Ash urged me. “I’ll take one, too. Then we’ll drink some black brew! Don’t you worry, everything’s gonna be alright!”

  Everything’s gonna be alright? I knew that I was deceived, but I had no choice but to play along.

  We walked down the street until we came to a crowded marketplace where five or six hundred woodsmen were gathered. In the very centre of the square they had set two huge mossy stones and a coarse wooden statue of Mithraa. The terrible deity looked exactly like Orvad’s cursed brother – the evil patron of fogs and illusions.

  “It’s Mistar!” I whispered, spitting furtively.

  In its raised right hand the statue was gripping a bundle of snakes, while its left hand pressed a human skull against its cracked chest. This idol seemed as old as the big mossy stones that supported it on both sides.

  A group of musicians suddenly emerged from the excited crowd. Sitting on the ground in front of the idol, they played some unfamiliar merry tune. Our feet began to dance by themselves, and the crowd stirred up like a wave. The woodsmen began clapping rhythmically and stomping their feet, following the simple melody. Ladles holding an oily black liquid were passed around the circle right away.

  The laughing woodcutters raised their ladles, took a few sips and passed them on. Their mouths and teeth were painted black, and their white beards became stained brown.

  “Take the blood of Mithraa!” A smiling man handed me a ladle filled with a disgusting smelly liquid.

  “Drink, brother,” Ash encouraged me.

  I took a small sip. The drink was sweet and sticky. I made myself swallow and passed the ladle to Ash. The scouts drank with the determination of those sentenced to death. Watching my friends, I listened to my own feelings. Gradually, my body drowned in sweet languor, the whole world filling with bright colours and magical sounds. The musicians oozed honey, their music seeped into every pore, making me shiver with pleasure.

  “This is good!” Ash leaned over me. His teeth were black and he was smiling.

  The world spun around me in a wild blizzard of colour. Faces, laughs, smells, and touch, all mixed up in a wonderful symphony. My body was overflowing with some kind of radiant energy that sought a way out and leaked through my tingling fingertips. It was unbelievable!

  To my surprise, I noticed that the scouts clung to me on both sides, taking me by the elbows, and it was so funny that I could not help but laugh. The scouts were laughing with me.

  The woodsmen began to compete with each other. They threw axes, raised huge wooden logs, jumped in length and height. All this was accompanied by loud laughter and coarse jokes.

  Soon, new ladles of milky-white liquid went from hand to hand. Ash snatched a dipper right from under my nose and, with a wink, pretended to be drinking. It made me laugh. Mash roared with laughter too, but pushed the beverage aside.

  The mood gradually changed. The woodsmen threw their shirts to the ground, joined hands to form human rings, and spun in a fast round dance. The smallest ring was in the very centre, around the idol and the following ones became larger and larger, exactly like the rings on a sawn-off log. Our ring counted more than a hundred men.

  Finally, the violinists struck up a new tune. This time the woodsmen sang. It was a strange mournful song without words which reminded me of a wild beast’s howl. The song stopped abruptly and the crowd rushed back, freeing the middle of the square.

  Powerful half-naked priests rolled in huge wooden circles. The circles were placed evenly on the ground and surrounded by braziers that were bursting with heat.

  “Look”—Ash lifted my head, holding me by the chin—“you wanted to see it for yourself!”

  Naked girls appeared in the centre of the square. They shyly covered their breasts with trembling hands, and their pale cheeks glowed feverishly. I saw Ilaah immediately and smiled with delight. She examined the crowd trying to find me, but the place was too crowded to pick out a single face.

  “Ilaah!” I shouted, waving my hands.

  She met my eyes and smiled. Her arms dropped, exposing small pointy breasts. She wanted me to see her.

  At this point, I ceased to understand why I was there. The whole world curled up into a kind of tunnel, at the end of which there was only Ilaah, and her smile, and her slender naked body.

  I lunged forward, but my friends held me back. Ash gripped my belt, and Mash held my hands. All of it was so funny that I could not help laughing.

  Ilaah laughed too. She climbed to the centre of the wooden circle and looked back.

  “What a wonderful festival!” I cried. “Let’s get closer!”

  Soon all the girls had taken their places in the wooden circles. Solemn lumberjacks silently stepped forward, slowly raising their axes. Their muscular torsos glistened with sweat and their axes reflected the flames.

  I sobered up rapidly then, and the whole picture acquired a terrifying clarity. Looking back, I saw my friends staring without a hint of emotion.

  I looked at Ilaah and realized that she was heavily drugged. She gazed at me smiling. Her lips were slightly parted, and saliva trickled down her chin and fell on her heaving chest.

  For some reason it all left me unmoved. Winter cold gripped my chest and covered all my feelings with frost.

  I looked up at the darkened splintery circles upon which the girls were standing and realized that they were the great cutting boards. I understood at once the purpose of all the braziers and vats of boiling oil.

  The woodsmen raised their axes and the music was cut off abruptly. I caught one last look of Ilaah’s smiling face and crumpled to the ground. Ash hit me hard. I didn’t lose consciousness immediately, probably the damn pills made me insensitive to pain. Lying on the ground, I saw before me a forest of legs; I heard the rhythmic clatter of axes and the cracking of bones being broken.

  I woke up in my bed screaming. Ash laid me back down forcibly. He threw a pinch of white powder into a glass of water and stirred it with a dirty finger. “Drink up, boy.” His face was expressionless. “Black brew is treacherous stuff, you’ll be sick for a while.”

  I wasn’t sick, I froze in terror. Memories swept through my brain like a whirlwind, burning everything in their path. Hastily I swallowed the bitter tincture, hoping that it might extinguish the fire that erupted inside of me. Fear, anger, despair, all this mixed up in a terrible cocktail and made me faint once again.

  I woke up a few hours later. This time it was Mash who handed me a new cup of potion. “The poison is still inside your body,” he explained. “But don’t you worry
, laddie, soon you’ll be like a fresh-minted coin.”

  “But what about the caravan?” I asked. “We mustn’t miss it!”

  “No way.” Mash moved closer to me. “We won’t stay in this damn hole for another day!”

  The door crashed open and Ash entered. Throwing a quick glance at me, he collapsed on the bench. “Well”—he looked at his boots—“was it worth it?”

  “I had to,” I answered.

  “You have to understand one thing,” Mash sighed. “Don’t make promises that you cannot keep.”

  “Or learn to break them,” Ash hissed. “Your luck – you didn’t see a thing.”

  “Thank you.” I sat up in bed and rubbed my aching neck. “And forgive me…”

  “Well,” grunted Mash, “we were all young and stupid once.”

  The drug quickly got me on my feet, and I began to check the equipment preparing for our departure.

  It seemed the scouts had added something soothing to my drink, because despite all the horrors and excitement, I remained strangely calm and collected.

  Ash examined me from head to toe and nodded. “Well,” he said, “as long as you still haven’t come to senses, let’s get it over with.” He put the small parcel he was holding on the table.

  “What is it?” I pulled the string. “Pie? For me?”

  “Yes.” Ash glanced at the door. “I stole it from under Mistar’s nose. It is made from your girlfriend’s flesh.”

  “And why do I need it?” My mind was still clouded, but I knew I should have reacted somehow differently. “I’m sorry, Ash. What do I do with it?”

  “We’ll bury it.” Ash sat down and put his arm around my shoulders. “I know, you don’t care now, but in a few days, when you come to your senses, you’ll be glad you did it.”

  We left the city on horseback, and I sent my horse along the familiar trail. Ash followed me in silence. “This town is surrounded by curses,” the scout spat, when he saw the clearing with the skulls dangling on the dead branches. “Bad curses!”

  I jumped down from the horse, drew my sword, and knocked all the skulls to the ground. Then I dropped to my knees, dug a hole in the soft soil and covered the small grave with fallen leaves.