The Irish Witch rb-11

by Dennis Wheatley

  The meetings of these gentry were held in the Abbey on Medmenham Island in the Thames, and consisted of blasphemous rituals followed by orgies. In order the better to parody their mockery of Christian rites, the men all wore the robes of monks and the women they brought with them from London—the majority of whom were among the most beautiful demi-mondaines of the day, but also some society women who concealed their identities with masks—wore the costume of nuns.

  Leaving the cloakroom, Charles went up a staircase in the middle of the hall, leading to a large salon on the first floor. Some thirty to forty ladies and gentlemen were assembled there, enjoying a buffet supper, some standing at a long table carrying an excellent cold collation, others sitting at small tables to which they had carried plates and glasses.

  All the men except one were clad similarly to Charles, in grey monks' robes with hoods that hid the colour of their hair, and were masked. The exception was a tall, gaunt, hook-nosed, elderly man known as the Abbot He wore a mitre on his head, in the centre of which there was a large cat's eye, a robe of mauve silk and, dangling from his neck on a gold chain, there was, instead of a cruci­fix, a diamond-studded crux ansata, the Egyptian symbol of immortality.

  Beside him at the top of the stairs, receiving the guests, stood the Abbess, whose name was Katie O'Brien; a woman who, both in face and figure, had a loveliness that would have drawn the eyes of many men in a large gather­ing immediately towards her.

  In striking contrast to the angelic beauty of the Abbess, the features of the tall Abbot were of a special ugliness that might have been designed in hell. His great hooked nose above a receding chin gave the impression of a bird of prey, the high cheekbones of his thin face were pitted with the scars of smallpox and his hooded eyes seemed to gleam with evil. His mouth was loose, his teeth uneven and yellow. His hypnotic glance radiated strength and power; and Charles, having on the night of his initiation seen this Priest of Satan avidly possess several women one after another, knew that his lust was insatiable.

  It could be only this last characteristic, Charles decided, that made these lecherous women give themselves to the hideous Abbot so eagerly. It then occurred to him how fortunate he was to be a man, so had been initiated by the beautiful witch; whereas the women members had all had to submit to being initiated by the Abbot and, however licentious by nature, must have felt an almost overwhelm­ing horror at having, for the first time, to give themselves to this repulsive representative of the dark powers.

  The women were also masked but wore the black gowns of nuns, and white, banded coifs across their foreheads, from which black weeds concealed their hair and the sides of their faces.

  In their case there were three exceptions. Two were clad in the white costumes of novices and, in addition to masks, wore veils that entirely obscured their features. The third was the Abbess, who was wearing a mauve silk robe and, on her bosom, a huge cat's eye, surrounded by emeralds. She was Irish and had achieved a considerable reputation in occult circles in Dublin for her prophetic gifts. A few years earlier she had come to London armed with introductions from several of the Irish nobility to friends in England also interested in the occult. Some while after Lord le Despenser's death, the original Hell Fire Club had disintegrated, but memories of it had lingered on, and she had had the clever idea of resurrect­ing it as a means of attracting wealthy patrons.

  She was a tall woman and, alone among the ladies, wore no mask. Her face was very pale and, although she was in her early forties, not a wrinkle marred the perfection of her magnolia skin. Two features made her strikingly beau­tiful: a very full-lipped mouth, which she painted scarlet, and a pair of magnificent dark-blue eyes, such as are rarely seen outside Ireland. Above them black eyebrows curved down to meet across the bridge of a Roman nose, giving her an imperious expression.

  Some of the members of the club were old acquain­tances, and did not seek to hide their identities from one another, while others preferred to remain incognito; but the Abbess could have put a name to any of them, and at once recognised Charles.

  From the beginning she had been particular about whom she admitted to her Order and she had accepted Charles, in spite of his youth, only because he had special qualifications. Not only was he an Earl with a fine town mansion and White Knights Park, a great property in Northamptonshire, but she had special designs concern­ing his future. Since she had personally initiated him the previous November, she had not seen him and, for the past quarter of an hour, had feared he did not mean to come that night.

  Moving forward to meet him, she gave him a charming smile, extended her left hand for him to kiss and said in a husky voice with a slight Irish lilt:

  'It is late you come, little Brother, but are nonetheless welcome.'

  As he took her hand, his own trembled slightly from the memory of the pleasure she had afforded him at his initiation. Bowing, he murmured, 'I pray your pardon, Reverend Mother. I was detained by an unfortunate accident.'

  'It is no matter.' She waved her hand, on which there was another big cat's eye in a ring, toward the buffet. 'You still have time to fortify yourself with a glass or two of wine before our ceremony, and you are called on to make liba­tion to Lilith-Venus in the person of one of my lovely daughters.'

  Walking over to the buffet, Charles was handed a goblet of champagne by one of the footmen. A minute or so later he found the Abbess beside him. Holding out a small, black velvet bag, she said:

  'As you are late in arriving, there is only one number left, but your chance of drawing a partner who will de­mand as much as you are capable of giving is not lessened by that'

  Charles put his hand in the bag and drew out an ivory plaque on which was the number 6 and was attached to a piece of magenta ribbon. Having bowed her away, he tied the plaque on to his cat's eye brooch and, now filled with excited anticipation, began to look quickly about the room.

  The friend who had introduced Charles to the club had told him that the majority of the female members were married women who had elderly or unsatisfactory husbands, and found this way of satisfying their pent-up desires greatly preferable to taking a regular lover; as, by concealing their identities, they were spared the anxiety of clandestine meetings and any possibility of becoming in­volved in a scandal. This applied also to the unmarried girls who had been introduced by cynical roues, after finding that they delighted in lechery and had a taste for variety. All of them came from the higher strata of society, as the Abbess had no mind to dispense to professional courtesans any part of the twenty guineas she charged her male members for each attendance.

  Owing to their masks, coifs and nun's robes, all the women present, apart from height, appeared almost identical, and Charles had to spend several minutes mingling with the crowd before he found the nun with a plaque numbered 6 suspended from her cat's eye brooch.

  That she wore this number was, in fact, no matter of blind chance. She was an Irish widow named Lady Luggala, and an old crony of the Abbess's, who had slip­ped her the plaque while Charles was standing at the buffet with his back to them. It was part of a plan they had made that Charles should partner the widow that night, and she had been impatiently awaiting his arrival.

  She was seated at a small table, with a monk wearing plaque number 18. He at once stood up, kissed her hand and said, 'Sister, at our next meeting I pray that it may be my good fortune to draw the same number as you as, from your voice, I know 'twas my luck on a previous occa­sion.' Then he bowed to Charles and moved away.

  Greeting her politely, Charles took the vacant chair and smilingly scrutinised her. She was tall, and her move­ments were graceful. Her cheeks were a little heavily rouged and faint lines showed at the comers of her mouth, telling him that she must be considerably older than him­self. Her firm chin and good teeth were vaguely familiar to him, so he felt fairly certain that they had met before in society, but he could not even make a guess at her iden­tity. In any case, the fact that the man who had just left them had evidently desired to
partner her again seemed to Charles a good indication that he had drawn a lucky number. After a moment he said:

  'It seems, Sister, that you are not a newcomer to these gatherings. Have you attended many of them ?'

  She smiled. 'Yes, I was an early member of the Order and come here regularly whenever I am in London. I find our meetings most stimulating, mentally as well as physi­cally, and always eagerly await the next. What of your­self?'

  'I humbly confess that this is my first attendance, as I was not initiated until last November, and have since perforce been living in the country. I can only hope that I shall not disappoint you.'

  At that she laughed. 'You would not be here unless our Abbess had proved you to be virile. In fact, if I am not mistaken, it was you whom I saw initiated in Novem­ber, and with our beautiful Reverend Mother you gave a creditable performance. You are, I feel certain, still very young, so must lack experience in the more subtle ways of pleasing women. But it will lie with me to ensure the best results, and I do not doubt hat we shall enjoy our amorous encounter.'

  Before Charles had time to reply a silver bell jingled. Immediately silence fell and the Reverend Abbess announced in her deep, husky voice, 'My children! The hour has come'. Let us proceed to the Temple of Delights.' On the arm of the gaunt Abbot she then led the way down­stairs, followed by the pairs of men and women, the two white-clad novices and their escorts bringing up the rear.

  Behind the main staircase another, narrower one led down to the basement. It was one large room, the full length and breadth of the house, the upper floors being supported by two rows of arches on carved stone pillars. A thick black carpet covered the whole floor, but it was visible only in a three-foot-wide central aisle running from one end of the great room to the other. The whole of the rest of it was covered with scores of many-coloured silk cushions piled one upon another. Along the aisle the signs of the Zodiac had been embroidered into the black carpet with gold thread.

  The temple was dimly lit, the only light coming from the far end where two seven-branched candelabra, hold­ing black candles, stood on an altar and, in front of it, two four-foot-high pedestals holding chafing dishes, from the centre of which rose slightly flickering oil flares.

  A few feet before the altar stood a curiously-shaped piece of padded furniture resembling a stool, but the left half of it curved downward, while the right half rose in a hump, so it appeared impossible to sit on it in comfort. Two black curtains, forming an angle to the altar, were suspended on rods from its sides to the pillars of the nearest arches. On one was embroidered the yang and on the Other the yin—the ancient symbols for the male and female. On the wall behind the altar hung a rich scarlet banner with a black cross upside-down. Beneath it, cen­trally between the two seven-branched candelabra, stood a strange idol which no newcomer to the place could easily have identified.

  But Charles, on first being taken down to the temple, had realised what it was. From his childhood he had been loved and spoiled by Roger's greatest friend, Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel—known to his intimates as 'Droopy Ned'. One of 'Uncle' Ned's hobbies was the study of ancient religions. He had often told Charles about Egypt in the distant past, and shown him pictures of the strange gods the Egyptians worshipped. Among them had been the cat god, Bast. So Charles had recognised the idol on the altar as a mummified sacred cat, which must have been brought from Egypt by some traveller.

  The Abbess and the Abbot halted before the altar. Both made obeisance to the idol, then turned about to face the congregation. They, in turn, made obeisance, then the couples settled themselves comfortably among the sea of cushions. Only the two novices and their escorts remained standing. They had halted at the rear of the temple, and as Charles's partner had seated herself on the first cushions she came to, the novices were only a few feet behind them.

  In a loud voice the Abbess cried, 'He who on joining our Order was re-christened Abadon shall now bring for­ward the seeker after truth whom he has brought to us.'

  The man addressed led his white-robed novice up the aisle, then stood aside. The Abbot threw some herbs on the chafing dishes and they went up in clouds of aromatic smoke. The Abbess took both the novice's hands in hers, held them in silence for a full minute, then said in a tone­less voice that was barely audible to the congregation:

  'My child, you are in grave trouble. Your family is noble, but now poor. They are in Very serious financial difficulties. Owing to this they wish you to restore their fortune by marrying you to a rich merchant.'

  The girl gave an audible gasp of surprise, then the Abbess went on, 'You are already engaged to this man. He is much older than you, and you hate him. You are in love with a younger man—a soldier. Normally events would take their course, and a life of misery as the wife of this man you hate be yours. But your good angel has brought you here so that you may be offered a way to save yourself. Our Order has been granted power to alter the course of human lives. If you desire to join it, you must first submit to an ordeal which may seem repugnant to you. But it is of brief duration and, once initiated, we can assure you a happy future. Think well on this, my child, and let me know your decision through him we call here Abadon.'

  Releasing the girl's hands, the Abbess signed to her to go and, turning about, she was escorted by Abadon back to the rear of the temple. As they halted there, the Abbess cried in a loud voice as before:

  'He who on joining our Order was re-christened Nebiros shall now bring forward the seeker after truth that he has brought to us.'

  The other couple advanced up the aisle. Again the man stood aside and the Abbot threw herbs on the chafing dishes. The Abbess took the novice's hands, remained in deep thought for a moment, then said :

  'My child, you are fortunate. You are surrounded by love and wealth. No-one will force you to do anything against your wishes. But I see sorrow ahead for you. It arises from a breach which has very recently occurred be­tween you and a young man who loves you and whom you love dearly. The Powers tell me that separation from him threatens you, a separation that may last for years. It may even be permanent. Our Order can call upon forces that will alter the course of events. They could protect you from this grievous loss if you are willing to submit to an ordeal you may think unpleasant. By no means every novice finds the initiation ceremony hard to bear, but should you do so, a period of distress soon over is no great price to pay in order to prevent the man you love being taken from you by circumstances over which you have, at present, no control. Think well on this, my child, and let me know your decision through him whom we here call Nebiros.'

  While the second novice and her escort returned to their place at the back of the temple, the Abbot disappeared behind the curtain on the left of the altar, to re-emerge a moment later carrying a great two-handled urn. At the same moment a huge negro, wearing only a loin cloth, came out from behind the right-hand curtain carrying a similar urn.

  As though at a signal, the whole congregation came to its feet and, in pairs, forming a long queue, walked up the aisle. From his initiation ceremony Charles knew that the urn held by the negro was empty. Into it every Brother would drop a purse holding twenty guineas, and mem­bers of both sexes who wished to secure information about the future would drop notes asking their questions. The notes were signed with the names by which they had been re-christened on initiation, but the Abbot and Abbess knew their real names and, in a few days' time, they would re­ceive written answers. The urn held by the Abbot contain­ed wine, heavily loaded with a powerful aphrodisiac, a few sips of which were enough to double the potency of those who drank it.

  The only future matter about which Charles would have liked to know was whether Susan would carry out her threat to take a lover, or if, on second thoughts, restrain herself out of love for him. But he had not dared put his question on paper and bring it, for fear that the answer would be the one he dreaded, and so add to his torment on every occasion when she had the opportunity to be alone with one of her beaux. When the Abbot presented
the Hell-broth loving cup to him, he took only a single sip for form's sake, because the thought of what was soon to come had already aroused his passions to fever pitch.

  While the proceedings with the urns were taking place, the Abbess threw more handfuls of herbs on the chafing dishes. The flaming oil that rose from the centre of the dishes swiftly turned the herbs into clouds of pungent smoke, filling the temple with the scent of musk and incense, calculated further to excite the lust of the monks and nuns.

  As they returned to their places among the cushions, they began to embrace, kiss and fondle one another. With the impatience of youth, the moment Lady Luggala re­seated herself, Charles threw his arms about her and pressed his mouth to hers. She opened it readily and sucked in his tongue. Next moment he had pushed her over on to her back and, despite her mock chiding, thrust one of his hands up beneath her robe. Under it she had on only a silk shift and his eager fingers slid swiftly up between her thighs. Closing her legs tightly, she pushed him back and said with a low laugh:

  'You wicked boy. If you go too fast you will spoil things for us later. Desist now, I beg. We must wait until the Reverend Mother has performed her ritual. Then we'll be free to rid ourselves of all our clothes and I'll let you do what you will with me.'

  As Charles withdrew his hand, a bell tinkled, the Abbot and the negro disappeared with their urns behind the cur­tains either side of the altar, the company fell silent, ceased embracing and all eyes became fixed on the Abbess. With a swift gesture she, plucked her coif from her head and threw it aside. A mass of dark, curling hair fell to her shoulders. With equal swiftness she pulled undone a silk bow beneath her chin. Her robe slid down onto the floor and she stepped out of it stark naked.

  Holding her arms aloft, she stood motionless for a moment, her eyes wide, staring straight in front of her. Although the majority of those present had seen her naked before, a little gasp of admiration paid tribute to her beauty. Her figure formed a perfect adjunct to her lovely face. She was close on six feet in height. Her shoulders were broad, her breasts stood out round and firm, with no sign of the sagging usual in women over forty. Her waist was slender and her hips curved out from it down to powerful thighs. The whiteness of her skin was accentuat­ed by big, brown circles surrounding her red nipples, and the Vee of dark, crisp curls that covered her strongly-developed mons veneris.