"Roberts, Nora - Divine Evil(1)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

DIVINE EVIL
Nora Roberts

PART I

Men would be angels, angels would be gods. ЧAlexander Pope
WhatТs past is prologue. ЧShakespeare

Chapter One
The rite began an hour after sunset. The circle had been prepared long ago, a
perfect nine feet, by the clearing of trees and young saplings. The ground had
been sprinkled with consecrated earth.
Clouds, dark and secretive, danced over the pale moon.
Thirteen figures, in black cowls and cloaks, stood inside the protective circle.
In the woods beyond, a lone owl began to scream, in lament or in sympathy. When
the gong sounded, even he was silenced. For a moment, there was only the murmur
of the wind through the early spring leaves.
In the pit at the left side of the circle, the fire already smoldered. Soon the
flames would rise up, called by that same wind or other forces.
It was May Day Eve, the Sabbat of Roodmas. On this night of high spring, both
celebration and sacrifice would be given for the fertility of crops and for the
power of men.
Two women dressed in red robes stepped into the circle. Their faces were not
hooded and were very white, with a slash of scarlet over their lips. Like
vampires who had already feasted.
One, following the careful instructions she had been given, shed her robe and
stood naked in the light of a dozen black candles, then draped herself over a
raised slab of polished wood.
She would be their altar of living flesh, the virgin on which they would
worship. The fact that she was a prostitute and far from pure disturbed some of
them. Others simply relished her lush curves and generously spread thighs.
The high priest, having donned his mask of the Goat of Mendes, began to chant in
bastardized Latin. When he had finished his recitation, he raised his arms high
toward the inverted pentagram above the altar. A bell was rung to purify the
air.
From her hiding place in the brush, a young girl watched, her eyes wide with
curiosity. There was a burning smell coming from the pit where flames crackled,
sending sparks shooting high. Odd shapes had been carved in the trunks of the
circling trees.
The young girl began wondering where her father was. She had hidden in his car,
giggling to herself at the trick she was playing on him. When she had followed
him through the woods, she hadnТt been afraid of the dark. SheТd never been
afraid. She had hidden, waiting for the right time to jump out and into his
arms.
But he had put on a long, dark coat, like the others, and now she wasnТt sure
which one was Daddy. Though the naked woman both embarrassed and fascinated her,
what the grown-ups were doing no longer seemed like a game.
She felt her heart beating in her throat when the man in the mask began to chant
again.
"We call on Amman, the god of life and reproduction. On Pan, the god of lust."