Book III: The Wolf and the lamb; Chapter IV

Ch. IV: Crown and Cross

The following Sunday, Gabrielle Émilie made her way to the Church of St. Crispin in fair Stiftsdamen to see the good friar, Brother Stephan. Gabrielle Émilie entered the Church and the noticed that the Mass of the Catechumens had already concluded and that the second half of the service had already began, which in the Tridentine tradition is called the Mass of the Faithful. Here she caught a glimpse of the friar who preceded over the service, and heard him address the congregation. Here the priest turns to the congregation and says the first two words, "Orate, fratres," in an elevated tone and then turns around while he finishes the exhortation in the secret tone. The alter servers to friar’s right and his left, respond with the Suscipiat: “Suscipiat Dominus sacrificium de manibus tuis, ad laudem et gloriam nominis sui, ad utilitatem quoque nostram, totiusque ecclesiae suae sanctae,” to which the priest secretly responds, “Amen.” As she dips her hand in small bowl of Holy Water, there was something of the friar’s voice that struck the young captain as familiar, but she could not will from her memory the where or why. She quietly searches for a seat in the back pews as the mass continues on; the friar continues on in Latin, “Dominus vobiscum. Et cum spiritu tuo. Sursum corda. Habemus ad Dominum. Gratias agamus Domino Deo nostro.” The congregation then responds, “Dignum et justum est.”

After the service is concluded and the congregation makes its way into the fading afternoon sun, Gabrielle Émilie makes her way past the crowd towards the friar who with his alter servers are still praying upon bended knee before the altar; their backs to the approaching captain. Behind Gabrielle Émilie a dark shadow watches then slips with the crowd into the fading sunlight. The captain genuflects before the altar and takes her seat on a nearby pew and quietly waits in silence.

After his prayers, Brother Stephan turned to find the captain waiting patiently; he then dismisses his altar servants and addressed the captain, “Dominus vobiscum, mea liber.”

To which Gabrielle Émilie replied, “Et tibi, pater sanctae.” Again Gabrielle Émilie was struck by the friar’s voice – she had heard it before. She studied Friar Stephan’s face, and as if the friar was struck by the same sense of familiarity about the young captain before him. For a moment the both studied each other’s countenance, when it was Gabrielle Émilie who broke the silence. “Disiecti membra poetae!” Exclaimed the young captain as recognition washes over her face like a summer breeze, “What do I hear? Is it you, my dear master, my dear Sans-Terre!” She places her hands upon his shoulders as a smile spreads across the friar’s face as well.

“Alas!” said the good friar to the other, “you recognize your dear Sans-Terre?”

Gabrielle Émilie continues in her greeting of her old tutor which she had faithfully thought was hanged, “What has made you leave the most magnificent and delightful of all castles? For truth, last I heard from our dear Le Guen, you were hanged in fair Vienna.”

“It is true,” answered Friar Stephen, “you saw me hanged, though I ought properly to have been burned; but as you were not told, it rained extremely hard when they were going to roast me. The storm was so violent that they found it impossible to light the fire; so they hanged me because they could do no better. The executioner was a subdeacon, and knew how to burn people very well, but as for hanging, he was a novice at it, being quite out of practice; the cord being wet, and not slipping properly, the noose did not join. A surgeon purchased my body, carried it home, and prepared to dissect me. It is impossible for anyone to have been more lamely hanged than I had been.”

“The bodies of a gypsy, a Jew, and myself, with two servant maids and three little boys, all of whom had died inconvenient deaths, were thrown into a cart to be buried in a chapel belonging to the Jesuits, within two leagues of the fair city. A Jesuit sprinkled us with some holy water, which was confounded salty, and a few drops of it went into my eyes; the father perceived that my eyelids stirred a little; he put his hand upon my breast and felt my heartbeat; upon which he gave me proper assistance, and at the end of three weeks I was perfectly recovered. You know, I wrote with a good hand, and understood accounts tolerably well, the good Jesuit made me his bookkeeper; I became still more so, and the Reverend Father Croust, superior of that house, took a great fancy to me; he gave me the habit of the order, and some years afterwards I was sent to Rome. There I was ordained and took upon the name of Father Stephan, and as of current, I tend to the spiritual needs of the good women of this modest parish.” On holy days, with a censer, the good friar diligently travels about the town and countryside incensing the wives of the parish, as he cast many longing looks on them.

Gabrielle Émilie all of a sudden was overwhelmed by the need to hear of news of her dear mother, and blurted out quite suddenly, “What has become of my dear mother, pray good friar, do tell!”

“She is dead,” replied the other.

Gabrielle Émilie cried, “Merde! Dead! Bovina Sancta! Is my dear mother dead? Ah, where is the best of worlds now? But of what cursed malady did she die? Was it grief from losing her only daughter?”

“No,” replied Sans-Terre, “her body was ripped open by the Saxon soldiers, after they had subjected her to as much cruelty as a damsel could survive; they blinded the King, your father, for attempting to defend her; My Lady, your mother, was cut in pieces; and as for the castle, they have not left one stone upon another; they have destroyed all the ducks, and sheep, the barns, and the trees.”

Gabrielle Émilie inquired into the cause and effect, as well as into the sufficing reason that had reduced her father’s castle to so miserable a condition. “Men,” she concluded, “must, in some things, have deviated from their original innocence; for they were not born wolves, and yet they worry one another like those beasts of prey. God never gave them twenty-four pounders nor bayonets, and yet they have made cannon and bayonets to destroy one another. To this account I might add not only bankruptcies, but the law which seizes on the effects of bankrupts, only to cheat the creditors.”

“All this was indispensably necessary,” replied the great sage, “for private misfortunes are public benefits; so that the more private misfortunes there are, the greater is the general good. Take into account my mishandled hanging, if it weren’t for the hangman’s noose, I would not have been found by the kind Jesuit or the benevolent Reverend Father Croust, who promptly sent me to Rome, where I was ordained and made a priest. Without which I would not be tending to the spiritual needs of the good wives of this parish with vigor and zeal. So you see, my dear child, it was a thing unavoidable, a necessary ingredient in the best of worlds.”

Having said all that it became her to say; Gabrielle Émilie inquired into the matter for which she had come to see the good friar about. The friar having a very good memory did recall the items and he who had purchased such from him. “His hair was curly and shone like gold, and spread out like a large broad fan; its neat part ran straight and even. His complexion was rosy, and his eyes as gray as goose-quills. His leather shoes were carved in such a way that they resembled a window in Paul’s Church. He was clad precisely and neatly all in red hose and a kirtle of a light watchet-blue; the laces were set in it fair and thick, and over it he had a lively surplice, as white as a blossom on a twig. God bless me, he was a nervous thing, but he was a sweet lad! Good Könner, I believe, is his name.”

At this Gabrielle Émilie inquired if her former preceptor, the good friar, knew as to the sufficient reason as to why the good son of the Reverend Father, the Custos Morum, would purchase such oils and perfume. “Alas,” replied the preceptor, “it was love; love, the comfort of the human species; love, the preserver of the universe; the soul of all sensible beings; love! tender love! This Easter past, on this holy day, I with a censer, was diligently incensing the wives and women of the parish, when I noticed he cast many longing looks upon Lady Sophia. To look at her seemed to him a sweet employment, as she was so sweet and proper and lusty; I dare say, if she had been a mouse and he a cat, he would have pounced on her immediately.”

The friar, having satisfied Gabrielle Émilie’s inquiries walked the good captain, to the church’s doors. “Yes, I am certain, fair Captain, it was young Könner who requested such concoctions, and seven vials did I deliver to him in secret in equal amount of months.”

“I thank you, kind friar, for your time in these matters,” said Gabrielle Émilie as she stepped out of the Church doors, “I beg of you one last question, before I leave your company this night, did young Könner say as to why he did not call upon the services of the apothecarius?”

“Aye, he did. He sought discretion and wished his intentions and affections for the Abbess not to be the subject of wagging tongues at the tavern halls and marketplaces. Truth be told, there is no printing press or scribe in all of Europe who can compete with Frau Swartzendrüber.”

At this Gabrielle Émilie could not help but smile. She had learned from the good friar that Könner sought the vials as tokens of his affections for the Abbess Princess Sophia, and the very same vials were found in the servant girl’s bed stand. She wished to share this knowledge with her second, Lieutenant Loccriccio, but the night pressed in on her and she had a long ride back to Arvfurstens Palats.

Across the valley, on a dark road in the woods, Loccriccio and several of his guardians, the very same who had escorted him out of the Castle Verfluchter Todd, rounded a bend and were almost upon the place where the servant girl was killed, when in the darkness they found a figure in the road. All did give pause and the leader called forth to the figure in the road. “Lo, who goes there? Are you friend or foe?”

“I serve your mistress, dear sir, and bring urgent news for her nephew, Herr Loccriccio,” answered the dark figure.

“What came you here to do?” challenged the leader.

“To subdue my passions and improve myself in faith,” answered the figure.

“Then advance and be recognized and speak your business for the person you seek is among our company,” was the soldier’s reply.

The nursemaid, a fair haired maiden, relayed her message to Lieutenant Loccriccio. The nursemaid said that their mistress, the Conchobhar, had over heard Könner confess to his father that in the Abbess’ garden he spied upon Captain Émilie and Abbess Sophia consummating their love, at which Könner became doubly enraged, hurt and rejected, he turned to his servant girl, as he often did for comfort, but in the middle of their love making, he was consumed with rage and killed her. Now, in the same jealous rage young Könner has sent a greirolf to the palace at Arvfurstens Palats to kill my Master Loccraccio’s fair love.

As he dismounted his horse, Loccraccio inquired of the state of her Aunt Ylva. The nursemaid replied that she had been badly wounded and is greatly weakened in her fight with Könner, and that her followers stand guard over her door as she recovers. The guardian spoke again, “We are yours to command, Master Loccriccio. What is your bidding?”

“Go and ride and stand guard beside our mistress’ bed and see no further harm comes to her. I will not reach the palace in time on my steed, so I will change form and hunt this greirolf myself. I know this greirolf you speak of and I can hunt him easily.” Thus Loccriccio departed into the thick woods and in secret changed his form and with great speed rushed towards the Arvfurstens Palats where his fair Amelie slept in quiet slumber.

Loccraccio used his Lupine instincts and senses to track the wolf-assassin, and found where the breach in wall had been. He discovered where the wolf-assassin had shed his human clothes, and pursued the assassin in wolf form inside Arvfurstens Palats. Beyond the breach, he found two guards disemboweled by the assassin. Unbeknownst to Loccraccio, Gabrielle Émilie had arrived from the Church of St. Crispin and was preparing for bed in her chambers.

Loccriccio finds the wolf-assassin in the garden before the terrace and two engage each other in a tremendous quarrel, such a ruckus was raised as to wake the very dead, and Gabrielle Émilie is alerted by the noise and entered the garden with several soldiers, who opened fire on the quarrelling wolves. Were-wolves are immune to damage caused by ordinary weapons, being vulnerable only to silver objects (usually a blade or musket shot). This negative reaction to silver is sometimes so strong that the mere touch of the metal on a were-wolf's skin will cause severe burns. The soldiers’ weapons seem useless against the wolves, and the wolves turn on the startled soldiers. The wolf-assassin kills the soldiers as their weapons and blades were of no affect against it.

Loccraccio, in a rage turns against Gabrielle Émilie who draws the Stella Martis and as Loccraccio lunges, Gabrielle wounds him slightly on his shoulder as she parries and dodges his attack, though only lightly grazed, the Stella Martis was forged with silver in its composite and this burns the flesh and skin of Loccraccio, the fur around the wound bursts in flames, and Loccriccio runs off into the night yelping in pain.

The wolf-assassin, having already dispatched the soldiers, though badly wounded, not by the soldiers, but from his quarrel with Loccraccio, lunges at Gabrielle who runs it through with the Stella Martis, unlike Loccraccio, it is not a glancing blow, as the blade runs through its chest, the silver turns the wolf’s own blood to boiling mercury as it speeds through out its body and burning everything with in.

The beastly assassin flees yelping, mortally wounded, just as more guards arrive, Gabrielle and the soldiers track them, but even wounded, the beast moves with great speed, but its wounds leave an easy track to follow.

The wolf-assassin, mortally wounded, came upon the spot wear it had left its clothing, only to find Loccraccio already changed into human form and wearing the assassin’s uniform. Loccraccio, also wounded, though not as badly, raises his blade at the greirolf. Almost dead, the wolf-assassin lunged at Loccraccio, slashing at Loccraccio and wounding him. Loccraccio draws his saber and separates the assassin’s head from its body, preventing it from changing back to human form.

When Gabrielle Émilie and the others come upon the scene, they find the badly wounded Loccraccio unconscious with saber in hand, and the wolf dead at his feet. What they discover is no mere wolf, but a dark beast the size of a man or better with sharp claws and sharper teeth and a broad chest and back that appeared to walk on his hind legs. They gently bear Loccriccio’s wounded body back to the palace where they lay him upon the kitchen table, there Amelie and the others care for him until the regimental surgeon arrived. Shortly after morning, the Colonel arrived as well with a compliment of soldiers and he was brought to witness the beast’s form. The regimental surgeon asked if the hideous corpse could be brought to the Chattel House so it could be examined properly to discover, if any, its weaknesses and strengths. The colonel declined the request as it was too dangerous to risk its discovery by the general public who was already scared of their own shadow. The beast’s ghastly form was burned in secret as not to alarm the population and cause panic as the situation was already delicate as it was. Instead drawings and sketches were allowed to be taken by the surgeon and that was all the record that was kept.

Loccraccio remained unconscious with a terrible fever, though the regimental surgeon could find no infection. Unknown to all, the silver in his system, though not a fatal dose, had served as an anti-venom of sorts to his Lupine curse, and was purifying his body of its malignancy. Lady Amelie, genuinely affected by his delicate state remained at his side and though he was unconscious, and continually read to him at every chance.

As for Gabrielle Émilie, she spent every moment in the palace library as well as in the abbey searching for ancient texts on such beasts. She found very little in that subject except sparse mentions of an ancient race in the writings of the old Greek, Petronius. Petronius wrote of the descendants of Lycaon, who was transformed into a wolf as a result of eating human flesh as he was one of those who were present at periodical sacrifice on Mount Lycæon. Herodotus and Virgil both wrote of the Neuri, a tribe they placed to the north-east of Scythia, land of the Amazons, who were annually transformed for a few days into wolves. The ancient Roman scholar, Pliny the Elder, also make brief mention of a man of Anthius’ family who was selected by lot and brought to a lake in Arcadia, where he hung his clothing on an ash tree and swam across, resulting in his transformation into a wolf, a form in which he wandered for nine years. On the condition that he attacked no human being over the nine year period, he would be free to swim back across the lake to resume human form. But most of these were sparse and were almost certainly nothing more than fables and fairy tales. She found no modern sources that could be of help.

At the expiration of several weeks, Loccriccio did awake from his long slumber and to the sight of his true love Amelie. Realizing at once that he no longer carried his blood thirst, he awakens to a new life, and realizes that he can now happily pursue his love of Amelie with out his dark secret. The following morn, the Colonel promoted Gabrielle Émilie to the rank of Major and Loccraccio to a Captain, an entire company was assigned to them. Additionally, Loccraccio came to the realization that it was Gabrielle Émilie’s hand that saved him, and in private did swear an allegiance to his new commander. Loccriccio, having the knowledge which of the soldiers were were-wolves, was able to predict when they would succumb to their Lupine nature and hunted them one by one. The foiled attempt thwarted and the army alerted, Könner’s Lycourgos stalls and waivers.

But this good fortune is short lived as a compliment of one hundred men-at-arms arrived under the banner of the Cardinal at Castle Verfluchter Todd as was the request of the Reverend Father and Custos Morum. With no knowledge of what impending doom awaited her, Gabrielle Émilie lay one morning in the sweet embrace of the Abbess Sophia, their perfumed bodies glistened with beads of sweat, like dew upon a lush meadow. The two lay amidst the folds of silk and lace, as the morning birds sweetly sang from a nearby branch. The Abbess whispered softly, “De integro, meus diligo…” {Again, my love…}

“Adfirmo…” {Positively…} whispered Gabrielle Émilie, almost giggling, “cor meum tibi offero, Regina meum, prompte et sincere.” {my heart I offer to you, my Queen, promptly and sincerely} and she innocently took hold of Sophia’s hand, and she as innocently kissed hers with a warmth, a sensibility, a grace-all very particular; their lips met; their eyes sparkled; their breasts trembled; their hands strayed.

Without any warning, Badin burst into the apartment and informed the two lovers that a compliment of the Cardinal’s soldiers had arrived at the Abbess’ palace to arrest Gabrielle Émilie. “On what charge?!?” Demanded the Abbess.

“Heresy, My Lady.” Was Badin dry reply. At the word all blood drained from the Abbess’ face for such a word meant an Auto de Fe, and being burned at the stake, and she fainted into Badin’s arms. Badin continued, “They have found forbidden texts in your apartment and two witnesses that saw my lady undressed in the Abbess’ garden and the two of you in embrace; a soldier under your command and the young Count von Fockewülfe.”

She quickly dressed and armed herself with the Stella Martis as Badin tried revive the Abbess. Gabrielle Émilie commanded Badin to take the Abbess to the Spaniard, Senora de Guzmán. Badin begged to stay and fight at her side, but she insisted as the count sought to implicate the Abbess as well and steal her lands and close the Abbey. Finally, Gabrielle Émilie forced Badin to leave with the Abbess at sword point. The two left by a back door just as the Reverend Father as well as the Colonel entered the room. Knowing her ruse was at an end, she lowered her blade and surrendered herself. The Reverend Father along with a High Inquisitor walked over and tore open her night shirt to expose her breasts and source of her womanhood. The High Inquisitor then walked over to her study and emerged with other articles of her uniform. The inquisitor asked of her, if she was in God's grace, she answered: “If I am not, may God put me there; and if I am, may God so keep me.”

The inquisitor was stupefied. The question was designed as a scholarly trap. Church doctrine held that no one could be certain of being in God’s grace. If she had answered yes, then she would have convicted herself of heresy. If she had answered no, then she would have confessed her own guilt. He then moved to where Gabrielle’s vestments lay, “Child, are these your clothes?”

To which Gabrielle Émilie replied, “They are, holy father.”

“Then you do not deny the charge brought against you? Think carefully child, for your fate hangs upon your answer,” spoke the Inquisitor.

“Regardless of my sex, I served ably and with distinction as an officer of his Imperial Majesty of which I am proud of and freely admit. I shall not sully nor disgrace that service, before you, or my God, by denying it now, even if it means saving my own neck from the noose,” was her reply to which she saw the Colonel nod approvingly.

The Reverend Custos Morum then entered the room, with books in hand, that they had found in her apartment, “These heretical texts were found in your apartment; the forbidden writings of Herr Copernici. The Sacred Congregation of the Inquisition of the Holy Office has listed Herr Copernici’s assertions in the Index Librorum Prohibitorum as heresy as it opposes the teachings of the Holy Mother Church on the grounds that Herr Copernici’s doctrine is false and altogether opposed to Holy Scripture as set by holy decree by his Eminence, Pope Nicholas V. Do you deny these were not in your possession?”

“I do no such thing,” answered Gabrielle Émilie, “My faith has nothing to fear from science, Reverend Father, and neither should yours. As I have learned in my stay here, amongst these good and pious women, science is a search for the facts and laws of nature while religion is a spiritual quest for ultimate meaning and for moral values that science is powerless to provide. To echo Herr Kant and Herr Hume, science tells us what is, not what ought to be. Quite simply put, science studies how the heavens go, and the holy church determines how to go to heaven.”

“Blasphemy!” cried the High Inquisitor, “Arrest her for heresy against the Holy Mother Church.” Upon this order several guards clapped irons upon her feet and hands, in which condition she was conducted to a carriage and was escorted outside the palace gates in front of Captain Loccriccio and her men. She was escorted to the church basement at St. Crispin’s where she was kept under guard by the Cardinal’s men. There she learned that the Abbess Princess had been forced to admit that she was seduced by the Major and had renounced her relations with her. After which she was summoned home by her father the King of Sweden. The Lady Amelie was now the acting Abbess in her place. This broke Gabrielle Émilie’s heart as she had hoped that Badin and Senora de Guzmán were able to save the Abbess.

Many nights the Inquisitor harassed and harangued Gabrielle Émilie to recant and deny her sin. If she did so, her soul would be spared though her life she would still forfeit, but at least her soul, assured the Inquisitor, would be carried to heaven by a phalanx of angels once the Auto de Fe made cinders of her bones. Gabrielle Émilie would not waiver in her defiance. At one such trial, she even so much as sung Lady de Pizan’s Ditié de Jehanne d'Arc:

“I, Christine, who have wept for eleven years in a walled
abbey where I have lived ever since Charles - how strange
this is! - The King's son--dare I say it?--fled in haste
from Paris, I who have lived enclosed there on account of
the treachery, now, for the first time, begin to laugh”

When finally it came time for her sentence to be decided, there was much discussion between the Colonel and the High Inquisitor. The Reverend Custos Morum demanded her life be forfeit for heresy, while the Colonel insisted that she was still a Major and an officer under his command, and thus he should decide her just punishment. To this the acting Abbess and Canoness, Lady Amelie, added her voice and pleaded on behalf of Gabrielle Émilie. Both Könner, Ulbrecht of the Pacte, and the Reverend Custos Morum were equally frustrated for until Gabrielle Émilie was disposed off, a hundred of the Cardinal’s men lay encamped at their castle door. Both sides argued before the High Inquisitor for the better part of a day and a half, but in the end it was the Colonel who triumphed. Knowing that he could not be too lenient on his fellow officer, he decide upon a course of action that would be suitable to all parties, yet keep her poor soul alive, for in truth the colonel still admired Gabrielle Émilie, even if only in private. So, yet another court martial sat upon her, and she was sentenced to run the gauntlet six and thirty times through the whole regiment. The Reverend Custos Morum, eager now to vacate the Cardinal’s men from his castle grounds, consented as did the holy father, the High Inquisitor, as he knew the regiment was composed of 2,000 men. Thus all parties being satisfied, Gabrielle Émilie was conducted to a field on the outskirts of the Duchy, where the regiment was given orders to assemble. In witness of the event were the Reverend Custos Morum and his son, the holy father, the High Inquisitor and several scribes.

Gabriell Émilie had gone through this discipline twice, and the regiment being composed of 2,000 men, they composed for her exactly 4,000 strokes, which laid bare all her muscles and nerves from the nape of her neck to her stern. As they were preparing to make her set out the third time, Gabrielle Émilie, unable to support it any longer, begged as a favor that they would be so obliging as to shoot her through the head; the favor being granted, a bandage was tied over her eyes, and she was made to kneel down. At that moment, the colonel inspected her wounds and found that her skin was nearly flayed from her body and from her wounds there was a great loss of blood. He then called the Reverend Custos Morum and the holy father, each in turn to inspect the wounds inflected and having seen the she was not even able to lift herself up-right and that there was upon the ground a great effusion of blood, all were in agreement that her carcass be left upon the field for nature to dispose of as she saw fit. Thus the holy officers of the church did embark upon the Reverend Custos Morum’s carriage and departed for the Castle Verfluchter Todd, while the regiment assembled and prepared to march back to garrison. Soon, at sunset, all had left but poor Gabrielle Émilie’s slumped body that sat upon the middle of the field.

Book III: The Wolf and the lamb: Chapter III

Chapter III: The Wolf's Den

Across the valley, in the dark foot hills, Lieutenant Loccriccio upon his own steed approached the gate of the dark Castle Verfluchter Todd, the intent of his visit yet unclear. Upon the stone posts of the gate and wall was the word “INGVLFR” and below was the crest that beheld a bust of a double-headed woman from which two growling wolves were seen. He cautiously entered the grounds following the dark wood-lined path to the castle itself. There he found the entire building dark and quiet but for the evening wind that rustled through the black trees around him.

The Lieutenant’s training and sharp senses told him that he was being watched from the woods, and he slowly dismounted his steed, drawing his blade, he turned to face the dark woods, and thus he spake, “Lo, who goes there? Show yourself! I am an officer of the Imperial Majesty, and I am here to seek the counsel of the Reverend Custos Morum.”

The softly rustling wind turned into a rumbling growl as a black beast, all covered in thick coat of fur and the snarling face of a wolf emerged from the shadows. It held the limbs and sharp claws of a wolf, but stood upon its hind quarters as if it were a man. In one bloody hand it held the severed arm of another maiden and shreds of flesh hung from its sharpened teeth. The beast did answer thusly, “Brother Úlfhéðnar, you are late.”

Using his blade to point at the beast’s bloody mouth, Loccriccio spoke once more, “By Lycaon’s curse, you have supped upon the flesh of another human!”

The beast recalled a popular Christian invocation in it’s native Slavic tongue, “U volka v zubakh -Egorii dal,” then it laid bare his fangs in a ghastly smile and, “If a wolf has something in its teeth, St. George gave it,” the beast then snorted loudly as if to laugh at its own joke, “Aye, Master von Fockewülfe has called on the body of Úlfhéðnar as the purifiers of the Faith,” was the beasts reply, and lifting the severed limb in offering to Loccraccio, he continued thusly, “the humans are like chattle and are weak and corrupt, and Master von Fockewülfe, the Ulbrecht of our Pacte, has called for a holy Lycourgos to cleanse the earth of the weak and corrupt.”

At the sight of the limb, strong and powerful urges swelled from deep within Loccriccio’s soul, but he is able to suppress the dark urges and steps back from the beast’s offering. At this the beast howls into the night, and growls at the Lieutenant, “Ho, what is this? That a Brother Úlfhéðnar resists the Lycourgos? You have lived among the humans and far too long in their midst…I have seen with mine own eyes how you look upon that human, Amelie. Perhaps you have been corrupted as well…”

With a flick and flash of his blade, Loccriccio draws blood from the beast’s arm, cutting deep into its flesh. “By Saint James, hold your tongue or have it cut out by my hand! I am still a Brother Úlfhéðnar and senior to you among the Pacte!” The beast yelped at the deep wound and dropped the severed limb, as Loccriccio continued to speak, “Who has called for this bloodrage? Speak or I shall dine on your flesh for speaking such heresy.”

The beast growled and hissed before he replied, “Brother Könner, the younger von Fockewülfe, driven is he to madness at the spurring of his advances by the Abbess, he has called for this blood rage under the Lycourgos. The whole Úlfhéðnar debate it now in the chambers beneath the catacombs.”

Behind the castle, Loccriccio enters the ancient crypt of Greigor that leads beneath the castle into the catacombs below. After descending several levels of winding catacombs, Loccriccio comes upon two broad doors and enters the one on the left. Upon entering the scent of blood was strong and again he felt the dark urges rise from within his body. In the small chamber were a number of benches and small orifices cut into the rock wall. Within each and upon several of the benches were neatly folded articles of clothing. Finding one such orifice empty, Loccriccio divested himself of all metallic substances and disrobed. After which, Loccriccio succumbed to the blood scent and the call of the beast and his flesh tore and bones cracked as his form changed to that of a Lupine or Were-Wolf as the ancient Norse called them. From his mouth, his human teeth fell as his true fangs emerged from his gums, as did his fingernails and toenails to be replaced by his claws.

Having changed into his ancient form, Loccriccio entered the Great Hall of Ingúlfr, there at the far end was the tomb of Ingúlfr herself, the Matriarch of the Pacte des Loups. Upon the wall of the chamber above the tomb was the same crest as was found at the castle gate. Under the crest was the year 1015. The great hall that hosted several hundred Lupines was devoid of any metallic objects or furnishing but for the tomb itself. The Fockewülfes were descendants of the 11th Century Russian Prince of Polotsk. Prince Vassiley was considered to have been a Were-wolf, capable of superhuman strength and speeds. As the spread of Christianity into Northern Europe brought persecution, many were hunted to extinction, some did survive, and some feigned conversion to Christianity to avoid persecution, Vassiley was among them. He created a dark cult under the guise of conversion, and saw himself and his Úlfhéðnar followers as “Purifiers of the Faith,” to cleanse the earth of what he saw as the weak and corrupt.

In the year 1015, Vassiley and his kin were hunted to the last man and driven from Polotsk, his wife escaped with her unborn son and took refuge with a young count as distant relatives of Count Greigor von Fockewülfe, who took pity on the comely and lovely damsel in distress. The child born was named Hrodulf and bore the count’s name. Unknown to the poor Count, the young lady he had taken pity on and rescued was Ingúlfr Rogneda of Polotsk, a Lupine and chief wife to Vassiley.

According to the legend, Ingúlfr was chief Conchobhar or wolf-lover. It is said that there are women who, in consequence of deadly sins, are condemned to spend part of their lives in wolf’s form. In a typical account, a condemned woman is visited by a wolfskin-toting spirit, Liulfr, who orders her to wear the skin, which causes her to acquire frightful cravings for human flesh soon after. With her better nature overcome, the she-wolf devours human flesh. She wanders only at night, with doors and locks springing open at her approach. Once the son was born and named heir by Count Greigor von Fockewülfe, Ingúlfr one night turned on her surprised rescuer and devoured him in whole. Serving as regent for the heir, she slowly sought out and gathered survivors of the Diaspora to her household. By the time Hrodulf was of majority, Ingúlfr had built a strong following within the Castle Verfluchter Todd. These were her descendants and followers known as the Úlfhéðnar or Pacte des Loups. Their dark work was called Lycourgos or Wolf’s Work. Loccriccio himself is of the royal blood of Vassiley and a cousin to Könner, the younger von Fockewülfe, this fact, of course, was kept secret from the Colonel and Gabrielle Émilie.

As he entered he first kept his tongue still and listened upon the words of the Ulbrecht, Master von Fockewülfe, who was by blood and title the leader of the Pacte. The Ulbrecht spoke of the holy Lycourgos that had been given to Vassiley by the Angel Gabriel to cleanse and purify the followers of Cain, the weak and corrupt humans. As the Ulbrecht spoke of this holy order, Loccriccio looked among the crowds of howling Lupines for the counsel he truly sought. He found that which he sought in a far corner of the hall, surrounded by her own loyal followers. Her name was Ylva, and she was chief Conchobhar, or wolf-lover, to the Ulbrecht, Master von Fockewülfe. Remaining in the outer fringe of the Pacte, Loccriccio made his way towards the Conchobhar.

Loccriccio is the favored son of Ylva’s sister, and he often sought his Aunt’s counsel in many matters. Ylva is a Lupine, but is not as malicious as the rest of the Pacte. A distinction is often made between voluntary and involuntary were-wolves or Lupines. The former are generally thought to have made a pact, usually with the Devil, and morph into were-wolves at night to indulge in mischievous acts. Involuntary were-wolves, on the other hand, are such by an accident of birth or health. In some cultures, individuals born during a new moon or suffering from epilepsy were considered likely to be were-wolves.

Ylva was born of two human parents out of wed-lock; a wealthy and married marquis and his servant girl. The child’s existence was kept a secret, and as Ylva was about to be born, the two travel to a different principality to search for a mid-wife. On the way, her parents are attacked by a were-wolf whom her father kills with a knife made of pure silver, but the mother is bit by the were-wolf. The mother dies at child birth, and the father abandons her with the mid-wife. When Ylva first came across the Count von Fockewülfe and heard him preach of Chrsitian values, she saw this as a way of overcoming her sinful birth, and her “punishment” by turning into a wolf and her thirst for blood. Ylva represented a minority within the Pacte, though growing in number, that took the Christian conversion to heart, and tried to live within its “non-harm” doctrine, they were largely responsible for the livestock killings rather than hunting women. As the victims were all female, and being female herself, she found this fundamentally at odds with her own human half.

Escaping notice, Loccriccio was able to find his way to his favored aunt. Upon laying eyes on her nephew, Ylva embraced him warmly with joy in her heart, and thus did Loccriccio greet his dear aunt, “Mistress Ylva, since I have known your help; my hope is in you. You have always been sweet medicine to the unhappy, and have come very promptly to those who put themselves under your protection. Mistress, still and unfailing is my allegiance to you and I call on you now in my troubles, dear aunt, oh my sweet advocate; therefore my heart adores you, only in you do I find ease and true comfort for my cares.”

With a warm smile Ylva answered, “Dear nephew, I am gladdened by your presence in these troubling times.” Then the smile fading from her countenance, she turned to the Ulbrecht, her husband, who spoke at the center of the hall which was drenched in the blood and torn limbs of several victims plucked this very night. “You uncle seeks to wed your cousin to the fair Abbess-Princess Sophia, as her royal line and extensive estates bring hope of reviving the glory of Prince Vassiley.” Loccriccio could see his cousin standing at the foot of Ingúlfr’s tomb. Ylva continued her speech to her young ward, “but your young captain, the fair and handsome, Gustav has spoiled your uncle’s designs as Guatav has captured the favor of Princess Sophia. In a jealous rage, your cousin has called for this blood rage to exterminate the race of Cain.”

Loccriccio responded to her aunt’s words, “Have we naught forgotten our own persecution, that we should impart the same harm on others? The blood spilt on these floors do nothing to bring honor to us or to our ancestors nor does it erase the injustice done to us in past.”

“You speak with wisdom, dear nephew,” was Ylva’s reply, “address the Úlfhéðnar as you have claim as your cousin does and you shall have my strength at your back.”

At this Loccriccio made his way to the front, and at his sight, the Ulbrecht turned his attention to him. “Dear nephew, what have you to report to your Ulbrecht?”

The hall fell silent and all eyes were upon Loccraccio as he spoke, “By order of the Princess Sophia, Colonel Hussenpepper has increased the patrols and presence in the outlying areas, as well as doubling the guards at the Abbey.” Then looking about the hall, he continued, “I come to plead with my Ulbrecht and this Úlfhéðnar to cease this blood rage and to speak on behalf of those…”

At these words several among the Úlfhéðnar whispered amongst them, and the Ulbrecht sensing this interrupted the young officer and called upon Loccraccio to join the Lycourgos, “Dear nephew, have you forgotten what your true nature is,” then waving his bloodied hand over the carnage at his feet, “the race of Cain is powerless to stop us; there measures are futile. Come, dear cousin, embrace your fate and destiny and join us in our Lycougos…” at this the Ulbrecht raised a severed hand from the floor and tossed it at Loccraccio’s feet, but Loccraccio stayed his hand and calmed his heart for his love of Amelie did cause him to hesitate.

There was now more talk among the Úlfhéðnar as there was whispers of treason and heresy. Now Könner stepped forward to challenge his cousin, “Dear Cuz, how can we take your counsel? Were you not stripped of your command and title? Lo, what heresy you speak of? You dare ask this Úlfhéðnar to abandon the Lycourgos! Dare you with such contempt turn your back on your Ulbrecht and the Úlfhéðnar?”

The beast who first challenged Loccraccio at the gate now stepped forward and with raised fist cried of “Heretic!” and “Traitor!” Others followed suit. Könner continued with his attack, “Benafacio, I hear hasty words from the Úlfhéðnar, but I still embrace you as a cousin and brother, whence you came and what came you here to do? Or should we believe this heavy charge?”

“I issue from the House of Vassiley, my cousin. Before her death, my mother was second wife to the Ulbrecht and as such I have claim and cause to address this Úlfhéðnar,” was Loccriccio words as he looked at the angry faces about him, “I come here to subdue my passions and improve myself in faith.”

An elder of loyalty to Ylva stepped forward and spoke, “Tis true the royal blood of Vassiley runs through his veins as well. Let him speak and be heard; the law commands it.” At this many others also agreed.

Yet Könner pressed on, “What madness! You speak of Faith, dear cousin, yet you turn your back on the Úlfhéðnar and our Ulbrecht!”

Loccriccio stepped forward, “I turn my back on all that is wrong and sinful against the Lord, our God. In God’s Holy Name, let us remove the veil that so confuses and blinds our sight; let our groans pierce the heavens, each one demanding of God pardon for those transgressions which we committed at all ages. Fathers and sons, brothers,” here he paused and looked once again about him in the great hall, “relations, friends, and women friends, whom we have greatly loved, with whom we ate drank and sported many a day with, many graceful and beautiful creatures, ladies, maidens, and valiant young men who are enjoying their youth under the earth, and other gentlemen, let the sleeping soul arouse its senses and awake to contemplate how life passes, how death approaches so silently; how quickly pleasure goes, and how once remembered, it give us pain. How, we see it, any time in the past was better.”

The beast who called Loccriccio a heretic weaves his way amongst the throngs, silently hunting Loccriccio from behind, waiting to pounce and silence his divisive voice. He moves with little notice among the Úlfhéðnar, but there is one set of eyes that he does not escape. Loccriccio unaware continues to address the Úlfhéðnar, “Brothers and sisters, if we see the present, how it has gone and is over in a flash, if we should judge wisely, we will count the future as already past. Let no one at all deceive himself by thinking that what he is expecting will last longer than what he has already seen. For everything will pass in the same manner.”

Könner moved himself in a manner that took Loccricio’s attention away from the stalker behind him. Könner spoke to his cousin as to keep him distracted, “You presume, Cuz, to call us ‘men’ and ‘gentlemen’ as if we are of the same line as the sons of Cain? Of whom is this ‘beautiful creature,’ this lady and maiden – have you been enchanted and deceived by the perfumed harlot, Amelie, that you do not recognize your own kin?”

Then turning to the body of Úlfhéðnars around him, Könner demanded, “We must strike at this very place and cut out this malignancy of weakness and corruption. We shall the take the abbey as our prize. We shall drink their blood as nectar and feast on their sweet and tender meat!”

Loccriccio answered firmly, eyes fixed upon his cousin, “Cousin, your jealousy clouds your judgment. By sacred decree of Mother Ingúlfr, no harm shall pass into the walls of the Abbey or upon those who dwell within. The Abbey has always been beyond our reach as all the women were of the Royal houses of Europe, and if one were to be killed it would bring unwanted and outside inquiry, and possibly additional soldiers to hunt us down. This law has been put in place and agreed upon by the Ulbrecht and Conchobhar. Follow this path and surely a fate worse than Vassiley shall fall upon all our heads!”

Distracted, Loccriccio feels the presence behind him but far too late as the beast is already in flight with talons bare to rend his flesh. In mid-flight another strikes at the beast, for the hunter is hunted still, and both tumble in the midst of the great hall. It is Ylva who has struck out against the beastly assassin and her teeth drink deeply of the assassin’s blood; her claws tear at his flesh. He scampers into the crowd as his attempt was thwarted. Immediately, she takes her station in front of Loccriccio as several of her most able guards encircle him. Ylva turned to face Loccriccio, “By your mother’s honor, I have taught you well and brave Benafaccio you speak wisely before this Úlfhéðnar. Treachery and danger stalk you here, go now with my guardians and seek safety, and I will come to you when it is safe. Go! Now! I command it!”

With little choice, Loccraccio flees with Ylva’s warriors. Könner leaps at his own mother, growling “Mother dear, the time has come!” The two then lock in desperate battle, teeth and claw alike bite and rend the flesh as the two tangle in bloody combat.

Stepping aside, the Ulbrecht, yells unto the crowd, “It has began, he who subdues the Conchobhar is the new Ulbrecht, thus I so command!”

Ylva circles to the left and Könner circles opposite, as Ylva pleads one last time with her son, “My darling son, heed your cousin’s wise counsel do not condemn our people to another holocaust!”

The elder von Fockewülfe, Hrodulf, spurs his son on as a sign of strength and to assert his right to lead the coven. Mother and son grapple in violent combat; teeth knawing and claws slashing. No strike goes unanswered as the two struggle. Though both have supporters among the Úlfhéðnar, none dare interfere as the law is clear in such contests which are necessary for the right of accession. Though she was more cunning and wise in her attacks, Könner possessed the strength of his youth and after hours of pitched combat, it is Könner’s brute strength that prevailed, and thus he mounted his own mother and mated with her, signifying he is now the Ulbrecht of the Pacte, the Alpha Wolf. Ylva is left whimpering as Hrodulf watches from the shadows.

Bloodied and torn, the victor nonetheless, Könner stands above his subdued mother, and proclaims “As the new Ulbrecht, I hereby repeal the contract between my father and mother as the law permits. None shall find sanctuary and refuge in the palace or the abbey from this day forward.”

Her male followers encircle Ylva as the females tend to her wounds. The elder von Fockewülfe, Hrodulf approaches his son in confidence as the great hall empties of its occupants. Hrodulf eyes the guarded circle around the whimpering Ylva, and whispers to Könner, “I fear there are a number of Úlfhéðnars who are sympathetic to your cousin and mother, we must strike now at the abbey and palace as a show of strength. Punish your traitorous cousin and at the same time you strike at the very heart of the waning human authority in this land.” Turning to the shadows, he waves forth the same beast that once did lunge at Loccriccio.

“This is Dirk von Dijk,” Hrodulf points to the lurking beast in the shadows with yellowed teeth and eyes, “he serves on your cousin’s detail. He knows of a breach in the palace walls that has yet to be mended. He is loyal to us and holds a blood grudge against your cousin. Send him as your Geirolf, as your wolf-assassin, to feast upon the precious Amelie.”

Könner licks at his own wounded shoulder, and looks upon his yelping mother, and then at the Geirolf and growls, “When the time is ready, I shall send for you.” And the three depart the great hall.

Ylva lifts her badly mauled face and speaks to one of her nursemaids. She whispers in her ear and then commands her, “Go…and warn dear Bonefaccio.” Without hesitation the nursemaid departs by another way beneath the great hall that leads to the heavy woods outside the servant's cottage.

In his study in the castle high above the great hall, Hrodulf writes an urgent message to his eminence, the Cardinal asking for a dispatch of troops. Having changed back to human form, the Reverend Custos Morum is in private counsel with his son. As he writes, he inquires of his son, “Are you sure of this?”

Könner leaned upon the hearth of the fireplace and stared intently into the dancing flames. “It is as I have told you before. I have seen so with my own eyes, the Captain is a woman in the false guise of a man, and has seduced the Princess Abbess in her very garden,” Könner then turning to face his father at his desk, “I hid behind a rose bush and saw the two in unholy embrace. At first I did not believe mine own eyes, and moved in closer to confirm what I saw. In my haste I startled a flock of quail, but the two were so consumed by their sin that neither took notice. In the eyes of the Holy Mother Church, this sin they must recant or be burned at the stake as the Holy Mother Church had done to the Witch of Lorraine.”

“We must not expose her until the Cardinal’s men arrive,” spoke the Reverend Custos Morum, “we shall force the Colonel’s hand and make him deal with her himself so that the army shall not oppose us.”

“For sooth, Father, they shall have no choice,” Quoth Könner.

“With the Cardinal’s troops here, the Colonel shall not risk a confrontation between crown and cross with the army away at war. Of this I am certain.” As he spoke, the Reverend Custos Morum, dabbed his letter with wax from his candle and pressed his seal upon the wax. He called for his coachman and bid him to take this most urgent message to the Cardinal.