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