gns.cannibalcult-第24部分

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he　end　it　just　became　too　difficult　and　I　gave　in　to　him。'
　　
　　'One　last　chance　then；'　a　laugh　that　was　mirthless　sent　an　icy　shiver　up　Sabat's　spine　and　tingled　across　his　scalp；　'First　we　eat；　though。　Prepare　to　serve　the　meat　and　carve；　Sabat。　Then　I　will　tell　you　what　I　have　in　mind。'
　　
　　Still　stark　naked　Sabat　moved　automatically；　somehow　rolled　the　steaming　human　corpse　out　on　to　that　same　black　carving　dish；　got　it　up　on　to　the　trestle　table。　His　strength　seemed　to　have　returned；　the　fatigue　and　weakness　evaporating　as　though　he　had　just　emerged　from　an　invigorating　sauna　bath。　He　was　ravenously　hungry。
　　
　　The　carver　was　honed　to　a　razor　sharpness；　slicing　the　meat　into　thin　tender　slices；　flipping　them　on　to　the　plates　with　the　expertise　of　a　practised　chef。　Then　he　carried　the　plates　back　across　the　room；　handed　one　to　the　eager　girl　and　seated　himself　cross…legged　at　her　feet。　They　did　not　bother　with　knives　and　forks；　greedily　stuffing　the　juicy　flesh　into　their　mouths　with　their　fingers；　munching　ravenously。　It　was　just　like　any　other　conventional　meat；　Sabat　decided。　It　might　have　been　beef　or　lamb；　slightly　overcooked；　but　that　had　added　an　extra　flavour。　Meat　was　meat；　it　was　all　a　question　of　what　one　was　used　to。　There　had　been　cannibals　on　this　earth　since　time　immemorial。　Then　Man　had　embarked　upon　an　idea　of　'civilisation'；　dictated　laws　that　prohibited　a　natural　way　of　life。　It　was　up　to　such　as　himself　and　Madeleine　Gaufridi　to　defy　those　laws　and　appease　the　ancient　gods　who　had　ruled　in　the　first　place。　A　kind　of　resistance　movement；　he　smiled　to　himself。　It　wasn't　a　question　of　good　or　evil；　just　power。
　　
　　'That　was　excellent；'　Madeleine　lowered　her　empty　plate　to　the　floor。　'Now；　Sabat；　I　have　a　proposition　to　put　to　you　and　I　hope　for　your　sake　that　you　will　not　try　to　betray　me　again。'
　　
　　He　masticated　a　last　mouthful；　licked　his　lips。　'I　shall　not　fail　you　this　time。'
　　
　　'Good。'　She　looked　at　him　steadily。　'But　there　is　not　much　time。　Now　that　Daunay　is　no　more　our　task　is　easier。　Sabat；　you　know　what　Andre　and　his　friends　intend　to　do　on　Walpurgisnacht；　don't　you？'
　　
　　'Of　course。　In　accordance　with　tradition　since　the　days　of　Silvain　Nevillon；　Louis　Nevillon's　body　must　be　eaten　so　that　he　can　be　reborn。'
　　
　　'Precisely。　But；　as　I　told　you　and　you　have　seen　for　yourself；　Louis'　body　has　already　begun　to　heal　in　readiness　for　his　ing　again。　To　eat　him　might　destroy　him；　but　even　if　it　did　not；　then　there　is　no　guarantee　in　whose　body　he　might　live　again。　The　thought　of　my　beloved　being　Andre　Schmid　is　unthinkable。　Therefore；　Sabat；　we　must　stop　them　from　carrying　out　their　Walpurgisnacht　rites！'
　　
　　Sabat　went　cold　as　the　implication　of　her　words　dawned　on　him。　Madeleine　had　used　this　cannibal　cult　to　rescue　her　lover's　body　from　the　execution　chamber　and　transport　it　here。　Indeed；　he　himself　had　been　one　of　her　pawns。　Now　she　was　ready　to　dispense　with　them；　a　task　which　would　be　far　from　easy；　for　secretly　every　one　of　those　followers　of　the　ancient　rites　hoped　that　Nevillon　would　choose　their　own　body　for　his　purpose。　Each　had　his　own　dreams　of　power　which　would　not　be　relinquished　easily；　the　ultimate　in　degradation　and　obscenity。
　　
　　'What　do　you　want　me　to　do？'　Sabat　spoke　quietly；　gave　no　hint　of　his　inner　fear。
　　
　　'Destroy　them；　of　course！'　she　snarled　venomously；　an　angry　she…wolf　who　had　tired　of　playing　with　her　cubs。　'And　make　a　betterjob　of　it　than　you　did　of　Daunay。　None　of　them　must　enter　this　sacred　place　again。'
　　
　　'All　right；'　Sabat　pursed　his　lips；　'but　maybe　you　have　some　suggestions　how　I　might　go　about　it。'
　　
　　'No；'　she　was　laughing　now。　'But　when　they　have　been　removed　you　must　return　here；　Sabat；　for　I　need　you。　Louis　Nevillon's　rebirth　will　not　be　easy。　Indeed；　I　cannot　see　it　through　alone　so　you　must　return　safely　to　me。　Now；'　she　leaned　back　in　her　chair；　stretched；　her　thighs　opening　invitingly　as　she　did　so。　'We　have　feasted　well　and　I　need　to　make　love　again。　e　to　me；　Sabat；　and　prepare　me　for　the　return　of　my　dearest　Louis。'
　　
　　Sabat　went　to　her；　a　man　bodily　replenished　after　his　feast；　pulled　her　across　to　where　the　crumpled　blankets　lay；　bore　her　down　on　to　them。　She　clutched　at　him；　gouged　his　pulsing　flesh　with　her　sharp　fingernails；　this　was　how　she　wanted　it　this　time；　to　be　dominated　in　preparation　for　the　ing　of　Louis　Nevillon！
　　
　　He　remembered　their　first　night　in　the　hotel　bedroom　together。　It　might　have　been　a　decade　ago；　a　different　girl。　There　was　no　accounting　for　Madeleine's　moods。　Now　she　lay　crushed　beneath　him；　groaning　her　agonised　pleasure；　crying　out　aloud　as　her　orgasm　mounted；　sobbing　uncontrollably　as　it　faded。　Then　it　began　again　and　she　was　clawing　her　way　up　to　domination　like　a　mating　she…cat　determined　to　vent　her　fury　on　a　lusting　torn。
　　
　　Sabat　tried　to　keep　up　with　her；　but　it　was　impossible。　She　rode　him　relentlessly；　her　skin　shiny　with　sweat；　her　small　well…formed　breasts　swinging　like　growing　fruit　in　a　tearing　gale。　He　was　spent　but　she　did　not　let　up；　seemingly　oblivious　to　her　partner's　non…participation。　At　last；　however；　she　began　to　wilt；　her　pace　slowing；　body　hunching　forward　until　her　dangling　bosom　was　brushing　against　Sabat's　chest。　But　he　made　no　move　towards　her　breasts；　his　eyes　closed　as　fatigue　claimed　him。
　　
　　Finally　she　sank　down　on　to　him；　slowly　slid　off　him；　exhaustion　claiming　her　too。
　　
　　They　both　slept　soundly；　the　only　noise　a　faint　rustling　that　seemed　to　e　from　inside　that　lead　coffin。　But　they　did　not　hear　it。
　　
　　Sabat　was　aware　that　he　was　dreaming　and　that　his　spiritual　body　had　not　ventured　forth　on　to　the　astral　plane。　Subconsciously　he　realised　the　difference；　accepted　the　happenings　around　him　for　what　they　were；　figments　of　a　brain　that　was　active　whilst　the　body　slept。　Even　so　he　was　aware　of　his　surroundings…the　French　Basque　coast；　people　who　moved　furtively　in　the　shadows；　an　occasional　glimpse　of　fearful　features　as　though　they　expected　something　to　materialise　out　of　the　darkness　at　any　second。　A　place　of　sheer　mounting　terror。
　　
　　Sabat　did　not　know　why　he　knew　or　saw　these　things；　only　that　he　did。　Another　age；　possibly　the　sixteenth　or　seventeenth　century　by　the　way　these　people　dressed　and　spoke　in　a　French　tongue　that　was　barely　recognisable。
　　
　　They　were　heading　towards　a　large　stone…built　house　that　stood　on　a　cliff　top　overlooking　the　moonlit　sea；　a　mansion　heavily　gabled；　its　latticed　windows　lit　up　by　yellow　candlelight。　Every　few　minutes　the　door　opened　to　admit　a　visitor；　hats　pulled　low　over　their　faces；　coat　collars　turned　up。　There　had　to　be　some　twenty　or　thirty　men　and　women　inside　by　now。
　　
　　Sabat　moved　closer；　pressed　himself　up　against　the　trunk　of　a　gnarled　oak；　the　only　cover　available。　His　movements　were　controlled　by　some　unseen　force；　a　robot　being　manipulated　for　some　strange　purpose　which　was　at　the　moment　denied　to　him。　He　did　not　know　why　or　how　he　came　to　be　here；　only　that　he　must　watch　and　wait。
　　
　　Something　tugged　at　the　sleeve　of　his　coat　and　he　stiffened。　He　was　not　alone！
　　
　　'Be　patient；　Sabat；'　a　hoarse　voice　whispered　in　his　ear　in　French　that　he　could　understand；　fetid　breath　laced　with　garlic　fanned　his　face。　'Let　them　all　gather　inside　before　we　make　a　move。　We　must　get　them　all；　every　one　of　them；　for　the　people　of　Labourd　demand　that　this　unholy　curse　of　witchcraft　be　removed　for　good。'
　　
　　Sabat　half…turned；　saw　the　face　of　his　panion　clearly　in　a　shaft　of　moonlight。　Ageing　features；　cruelty　stamped　indelibly　on　the　hooked　nose；　the　close…set　small　eyes　and　the　thin　bloodless　lips。　So　familiar　that　Sabat　recognised　him　instantly…Pierre　de　Lancre；　the　most　feared　witchfinder　in　Francel　A　gaunt　figure　（the　humped　back　reminded　Sabat　of　Pieter　Daunay）；　untidy　straggling　grey　hair　falling　from　beneath　the　huge　black　hat　and　spreading　itself　on　the　cloaked　rounded　shoulders。
　　
　　'Tonight　is　Walpurgisnacht？　de　Lancre　muttered；　'and　they　will　all　e。　See；　even　now　they　are　mencing　their　blasphemies　and　obscenities。'
　　
　　Sabat　nodded；　watched　the　naked　bodies