The Girl with No Name
Copyright 2013 by Edward -EC-
EC's Erotic Fiction - /~caligula97030/

(warnings: public nudity, sex between adults, corporal punishment, maledom, 
humiliation, war violence, human sacrifice, occult, language)

Chapter Seven – The Initiate

Babáckt Yaga and her followers walked in silence throughout most of the 
morning. At the beginning there were only three companions, two young men and 
a middle-aged woman. Eventually they were joined by a young couple armed 
with longbows and carrying four dead hares and a sack of roots. Another older 
man later joined the group, lugging several fish.

All of Babáckt Yaga's companions were dressed alike. The women wore black, 
long-sleeved dresses with dark red aprons, while the men wore black robes. The 
women's aprons and the men's robes were embroidered with a red skull. Everyone 
carried a real skull mounted on a long staff. Even in daylight, the group had a very 
sinister appearance.

Danka nervously followed the others, very self-conscious about being the only 
naked person in the group and not wearing a Church collar to give legitimacy to 
her nudity. She continued to be scared, traveling with the strange group and 
unsure if Babáckt Yaga really was planning to spare her life. However, she had no 
choice but to follow. She knew that she could never hope to escape from a group 
of people who undoubtedly knew the woods as well as they knew the insides of 
their homes. Also, even if she had been presented with the choice, Danka really 
did not have much desire to escape. Mentally and spiritually, she was exhausted 
from the traumatic events of the past two weeks. The more she thought over her 
situation, the more she realized that she had nowhere to go. Even if she could 
return to Sevérckt nad Gorádki, what would she do there? The first thing people 
would ask her was what had happened to her master Bagatúrckt. The thought 
crossed her mind that, if the horses had been re-captured, she might already be 
considered a fugitive.

The group traveled along the main trail for a while, heading back in the direction 
towards Sevérckt nad Gorádki, before turning onto a side path that led north. As 
soon as the alchemists were out of sight from the main trail, they stripped off their 
clothing, consolidated everything into a cloth bag, and handed it to Danka to carry. 
As they ascended into increasingly steep terrain, the naked alchemists made 
frequent stops to collect berries, herbs, and roots, which they carried in sacks that 
grew heavier as the morning wore on.

At midday the terrain flattened out and the group emerged into a cleared area. 
There were several well-kept gardens surrounding the strangest house Danka had 
ever seen. The structure was round instead of square, but what made it truly 
bizarre was that it was four fathoms above the ground, perched on top of three 
large tree trunks. The roots of the trees extended above the ground, reminding 
Danka of enormous birds' feet. Suddenly Danka remembered...as a child she had 
heard stories...of a witch who lived in a house in the forest that stood on huge 
chicken feet.

Babáckt Yaga did not give the newcomer a chance to rest. She collected the hares 
and fish from her followers and ordered the captive to accompany her to an open 
shed that contained a kiln and an outdoor kitchen. Danka was perplexed that she 
did not see any firewood: instead she noticed a large pile of black rocks. Babáckt 
Yaga directed her attention to a stone table.

"Very well, 'bloody one', I wish to see for myself if your Temple nickname was 
justified. Clean these animals so we may eat."

Danka expertly skinned and gutted the hares before preparing the fish. Babáckt 
Yaga carefully observed the newcomer and seemed satisfied that Danka had told 
her the truth, at least as far as handling meat was concerned. The next detail the 
alchemist wanted to know was how well Danka could cook. Babáckt Yaga called 
over one of her female followers and ordered her to start cooking, with the 
newcomer to assist. She ordered the captive to assist the woman normally 
assigned to prepare meals. The cook questioned her and figured out that Danka 
knew some recipes and seasoning techniques that were unique to the Danubian 
Church, thus verifying another portion of the newcomer’s claims. 

The cook ordered Danka to pick up some of the black rocks and move them to the 
stove. The rocks were unlike anything she had ever seen: heavy, totally black, and 
powdery. The cook then shocked her assistant by throwing the rocks into the oven 
and setting them on fire.

“A secret of the Ancients. We call it cave-charcoal. It’s special charcoal the 
Creator placed in the ground for us, and it burns much better than anything we’d 
get from trees. When the winter darkness descends upon us and the cold blows off 
the mountains, you will give thanks many times over to the Creator for this 
present we have taken from the ground.”

Hearing those words helped calm Danka’s nerves, not because cave-charcoal was 
going to keep her warm over the winter, but because the cook apparently took it 
for granted she would be with the group (and thus still alive) at the end of the year.

----------

While her captive was busy with dinner, Babáckt Yaga sadly spread the 
mushrooms on a drying rack to make sure they were completely dry. Later she 
would take other measures to ensure they would be preserved indefinitely, until 
she needed them for medicines and potions. Given the scarcity of the species, the 
supply was enormous, but it also represented the destruction of a large percentage 
of the world’s remaining living specimens. Babáckt Yaga’s only consolation was 
that at least she recovered the mushrooms and had them for her own use; that they 
had not been taken to Vienna. However, they were irreplaceable. There would be 
no new mushrooms sprouting up the following year to replace the ones that 
accursed fortune-seeker had destroyed.

A purse of gold…how absurd…a purse of gold…if only that ignorant dilettante 
had known… “the Joy of the Ancients” was worth far more than any amount of 
gold. 

Even though he was dead, anger against Bagatúrckt and his loathsome pseudo-
scientific friends in Vienna welled up inside the alchemist. 

A purse of gold indeed…

----------

Danka did not have her midday meal with the others. She was not yet an accepted 
member of the group and thus did not have permission to share their table. She ate 
alone, sitting at the base of one of the trees that held up that strange suspended 
house Babáckt Yaga called home. She noted the drying mushrooms and wondered 
about her bucket. She had seen the alchemist taking it up into the house with 
Bagatúrckt’s items, so presumably it was still there. 

After the midday meal, three followers stayed behind to clean up, while the others 
departed the compound. (Later Danka would learn that Babáckt Yaga had planted 
rare herbs and fungi all around the area surrounding the settlement, and it was up 
to her followers to check on the plants to make sure they were healthy until it was 
time to harvest their ingredients.) The compound was completely empty, apart 
from three people in the kitchen area. Babáckt Yaga approached the newcomer 
and ordered her to follow her inside the raised house. She pulled a rope and a 
ladder came down automatically.

The interior of the building was very carefully laid out, to take advantage of every 
bit of space and still provide a comfortable work and research area. The 
furnishings were simple, but were made from fine materials and expertly crafted. 
One wall was completely covered by bookshelves filled with books written in 
various western European languages. Another wall was completely covered by 
shelves containing jars and expensive-looking vases full of alchemy ingredients. 
There was a writing desk and a table filled with very strange-looking glassware. 
There were assorted storage trunks. Babáckt Yaga directed Danka’s attention to 
neatly folded stacks of black and dark red linen.

"You will take one red cloth and one black cloth. Your first duty to me will be to 
prepare a dress for yourself. In the forest we live uncovered, as we have been 
created. Among the non-believers we show ourselves in the cloth of our 
forbearers."

Danka took her cloth and looked at Babáckt Yaga, waiting for further instructions.

"You will understand, as long as you do not speak to me as a liar, the Ancients 
have called upon me to spare you. They do not want your blood, because the 
blood of the ignorant and the blood of the bystander is unacceptable for the 
nourishment of the earth. Do you understand me so far?"

Danka was frightened and bewildered by the alchemist's talk of blood, but she 
managed to respond that she understood. Babáckt Yaga knew that her captive was 
not truthful; that she really had not understood.

“You just lied to me, Danka Síluckt. You are trying my patience. Answer honestly. 
Did you understand what I just said?”

“I…I guess…I mean…not really… Babáckt Yaga…”

“That’s better…somewhat, Danka Síluckt. An important rule for seeking 
knowledge is to never falsely claim you understand something when actually you 
don’t. You didn’t understand what I just said because there is no way you could 
understand, given your ignorance. You don’t comprehend the ways of the 
Ancients, so how could you comprehend my words?”

“Yes, Babáckt Yaga.”

“Very well, I will give you your first lesson about the ways of the Ancients. I said 
that you were ignorant and a bystander. I did not say you were innocent. You 
participated in the destruction of something precious, something that cannot be 
replaced. Your actions were under duress and characterized by ignorance, but 
those facts do not change the outcome of what happened. In your case, 
punishment is not appropriate, but the Ancients will call on you to atone for what 
you did. You will understand that punishment and atonement are different?”

“Yes, Babáckt Yaga. That’s one of the things the Priests taught me at the 
Temple.”

“Good. Now, to enlighten you about ‘the Joy of the Ancients’. The name humans 
gave to those mushrooms is unfortunate and erroneous. Those mushrooms don’t 
bring joy; they provide something much more important. When properly prepared 
with other ingredients, they provide restoration. Those mushrooms actually have 
regenerative powers. I will give you an example: myself. Would you like to guess 
how old I am? Try, Danka Síluckt. Guess how old I am.”

“I’d guess…maybe…you’d look around 60…maybe 65… Babáckt Yaga.”

“That is the age people guess, for the most part…except that my vision is still 
clear and my hearing is that of a lass. The truth is that I was born in the year 1642. 
I am 109 years old. I am growing older as the years pass, but the regenerative 
powers of the mushrooms have slowed the aging process in my body. I’ve 
calculated that I age one year for every four years a normal person ages. To 
understand the mushrooms, you must understand that what is a blessing for me, 
and a few other select Followers, is a curse for the mushrooms. The mushrooms 
live many decades and mature very slowly. That also means they reproduce very 
slowly. When we harvest a mushroom, we have to prepare for its replacement. 
We know how to replace the mushrooms, but the process is difficult and not 
always successful, so we are very sparing in our harvesting. It would be tempting 
for all Followers to receive the longevity potion, but we understand such a thing is 
not possible. I was granted that privilege because of my research, my ability to 
perform medical operations, my knowledge of foreign languages, my work as a 
translator, and my potion-making skills. My Path in Life is to pass as much of that 
knowledge as I can to my apprentices. People come into my life, they learn skills 
to fight the Profane One’s curses, most of them eventually depart, and living 
among the Christians they apply those skills.”

“You’d…maybe…you’d teach me some things… Babáckt Yaga?”

“It’s possible. First, you will be called upon to atone for your offense against the 
Ancients. Once you have demonstrated your willingness to protect the remnants 
of the Old World and have proven your ability to learn, there is knowledge you 
can take away from here that would help you combat the Profane One. Now. To 
return to the topic of the mushrooms. Every passing year there are fewer and 
fewer of them, because fortune hunters plague these forests. They seek the 
mushrooms for pleasure, which is a great tragedy. We were hoping to speed up 
the reproduction of the mushrooms to prevent their extinction. I am convinced 
such a thing is possible, and then the restorative powers would be available to 
more people. Bagatúrckt's actions set back that goal, possibly forever. That 
streambed was the only place that I know of where the mushrooms were 
reproducing on their own.”

Danka felt sick. She took a breath, struggling with the feeling that she needed to 
add a grim detail about her outing with Bagatúrckt.

“You are troubled, girl. Speak your mind.”

“I hate to say this, but I was the one who spotted the first mushroom. Bagatúrckt 
had just entered me, and I wanted to wash his filth out of my body…so I went into 
the stream…and saw…I don’t know, Babáckt Yaga…maybe he would’ve found 
them anyway…but it was I…I who spotted the mushrooms…I wasn’t sure if it 
was what he was looking for…but I pointed them out…and his whole face 
changed…like he was possessed.”

There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation. Babáckt Yaga broke the 
silence.

“Had you known what I just told you…and what Bagatúrckt did to the streambed, 
what would you have done?”

“I would have thrown some leaves over them, Babáckt Yaga, and kept quiet. But I 
didn’t. Something you should know, I guess.”

“What you said confirms what I thought about you. You were a bystander. You 
were ignorant. You’re not guilty, but you’re not exactly innocent, either. You do 
not deserve punishment, but you do need to atone for your part in what 
happened.”

“Yes, Babáckt Yaga.”

“As of today, you will begin preparation for atonement. I will tell you what you 
need to do when the moment comes. I will call upon you to perform some duties 
that will seem strange, and appear to contradict some of what you learned at the 
Temple. I am not saying that anything taught at the Temple is wrong, but you will 
need additional knowledge for your life in the forest. The ways of the Ancients, 
the knowledge of pre-Christian times, are things that cannot be taught by those 
who do not follow the Ancients: not by the True Believers, nor by the Old 
Believers.”

Danka thought about the numerous pieces of knowledge she had learned during 
her year living as a penitent. She wondered…not only about what she had learned 
so far, but about the people who had taught her. She had questions. However, at 
that moment she was unable to articulate them. Babáckt Yaga noted her captive’s 
pensive expression.

“Perhaps you’d like to know what I think of the Senior Priest at the Temple in 
Starívktaki Móskt. Perhaps that is as good a starting point as any.”

“Yes, Babáckt Yaga.”

“His character is flawed, which partly explains Bagatúrckt, both how he was 
raised and his father’s blindness to his greed and depravity. And yet, as flawed as 
the Senior Priest is as person, he does wish to understand the Ultimate Truth. 
Unlike many Christians, he respects the Ancients and has never deliberately acted 
against them. He wants the Danubian Church to represent our people and our 
traditions, so he has formally renounced the teachings of the Roman Church. 
Those are my observations. He is a flawed man who seeks direction from the 
Creator. That’s the best answer I can give you.”

“Yes, Babáckt Yaga.”

There was another uncomfortable pause, with the alchemist seemingly lost in 
thought.

"As for his son, it is a pity...that the Profane One decided to separate his soul from 
his body and deny me that privilege. Bagatúrckt's blood would have made a fine 
gift, a fine gift indeed, for the Ancients."

Danka looked at Babáckt Yaga with a totally bewildered expression, unsure if she 
understood correctly. Would she have offered Bagatúrckt's blood to the Ancients?

“The time will come when you understand what I meant by my last comment, 
when you are closer to atoning for your actions.”

Babáckt Yaga changed the subject.

“Your Path in Life has led you here, because it is the wish of the Ancients. Your 
first duty will be to prepare your dress. Your second duty will be to learn how to 
sing as the Ancients sang, in what the Christians call ‘archaic Danubian’. You 
will leave my alchemy lab and seek out Jasnáckta, our best seamstress. She will 
guide you through the steps needed to prepare your dress.”

----------

Danka spent the following two weeks putting together her outfit. She already 
knew how to sew and repair poor-quality clothing, but her previous experience 
was useless for preparing a dress suitable for the Followers of the Ancients. The 
uniform had to be made with care and respect. So… for two weeks Jasnáckta 
patiently guided the newcomer, cut-by-cut, measurement-by-measurement, and 
stitch-by-stitch as she prepared the clothing that would become her identity 
anytime she left the forest and appeared in public. Later there would be other 
duties, such as gardening, food gathering, cleaning, and repairs, but all of that 
would wait until her dress was ready. 

Danka started with another duty the day after arriving: singing. Every night after 
dark she joined the other women among the Followers practicing hymns that were 
thousands of years old. The hymns were different from the songs she had learned 
at the Temple in Starívktaki Móskt: very mysterious and with a pagan sound that 
was almost sinister. Among the songs she learned was an ancient calling of 
seduction used in pre-Christian temples:

Man’s first woman had fruit in her garden…
Sweet fruit no man would resist…
She knelt and offered her very best…
He came to her to indulge…
Sweetness beyond what he had known…
Man and woman joined…

I have fruit in my garden…
Sweet fruit no man will resist…
I kneel to you and offer my very best…
Come to me and indulge…
Sweetness beyond what you have known…
Man and woman joined…

During the time she worked on her dress, Danka continued to live completely 
naked. After having spent a year wearing a penance collar, she was used to not 
wearing anything made from cloth. However, in the camp of the Followers of the 
Ancients she did not even have her collar or her boots. Both items were locked up 
with her bucket. As she walked around in the woods or performing her duties, 
completely devoid of any human-made object on her body and her bare feet in 
constant contact with the ground, she learned what it was to live in a true state of 
nature.

The black dress and dark red apron felt very strange when Danka tried them on 
for the first time. In the warm summer weather the items were hot, uncomfortable, 
and felt unnatural. However, the outfit would become an important part of 
Danka’s life, giving her identity and marking her as a member of a group most 
people would not dare to offend or cross. 

As she held the finished outfit and ran her fingers over its tight stitching, Danka 
saw irony in her Path in Life. Twelve months earlier, her journey had started 
because she wanted a fine dress that would attract young men to her. Now, for her 
trips to Sevérckt nad Gorádki and the surrounding villages she did have a fine 
dress, but its purpose was totally the opposite of what she had sought. No eligible 
young man would dare approach her or flirt with her while she was wearing a 
uniform that identified her as a Follower of the Ancients. She would be marked as 
a member of a cult that maintained itself aloof from average Danubians. 

----------

Two days before the summer solstice, Babáckt Yaga and most of her followers 
traveled to a secret location to conduct celebrations and sacrifices. The only 
members of the group who did not travel to the holy site were the uninitiated 
apprentices. There were five young people in circumstances similar to Danka: 
they had their outfits but had not yet earned the embroidered skull logo or staff. 
For the uninitiated, the days around the solstice were a time for relaxing, to go 
berry picking and fishing, to wander about, or just to sleep.

Among the uninitiated was a reserved young man called Káloyankt. He was from 
the town of Sevérckt nad Gorádki and spoke with an educated accent. Danka had 
caught his attention from the moment she entered the settlement. Now, with the 
others gone and little to distract the newcomer, he decided to invite her fishing.

Danka accompanied him, out of boredom more than anything else. Her feelings 
about going with Káloyankt were mixed. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he 
wanted, but still, the idea of having a friendship with another follower greatly 
appealed to her. With several weeks now separating her from the year she had 
spent at the Temple, she wondered how she tolerated living that entire time with 
just one person to talk to. Also, she was curious to see what being with an upper-
class young man would be like, compared with the wretched impoverished men of 
her youth and the self-centered dilettante Bagatúrckt. Káloyankt seemed relatively 
trustworthy and if things with him went badly, she could talk to Babáckt Yaga.

Danka followed Káloyankt along several trails to a pond that she already had 
visited a couple of times. Both Danka and Káloyankt were completely naked: 
even their feet were uncovered. They strolled in absolute silence, listening for any 
changes or possible dangers in their environment. When they arrived at the pond, 
they went swimming before sunning themselves on some rocks and preparing 
their fishing lines.

It turned out that Káloyankt had invited Danka on the outing because he needed to 
talk. He started by asking her about the house she had visited in Sevérckt nad 
Gorádki. Danka was evasive with her answer, but she gave away enough 
information for Káloyankt to understand that she had indeed been there. Then he 
surprised her:

“You know…that fortune hunter you were with…that ‘master’ Bagatúrckt…he 
was a friend of my father. When I was a teenager, I saw him…several times…at 
my father’s house.”

“Your father...it’s your father who owns that house?”

“Yes.”

“…and set up that room? …and hired the servants?”

“Yes.”

“So…then…you know…you know what happened to me with Bagatúrckt?”

“Yes. I don’t need to ask you about the details, because I already know. I saw 
what went on in that room many times when I was a boy. I watched…never spoke 
up about it…never tried to warn any of the women. I watched my father and his 
friends…never did anything, but I always felt guilty about it. Then, last fall during 
the equinox…the Creator spoke to me…told me I needed to get out of the 
house….renounce my father and his fortune….go to the woods, and confront my 
Path in Life.”

“Which brought you here?”

“Yes. Just like you…well, in some ways the same and in some ways different. I 
came here on my own, but I didn’t know what I was looking for. I got lost, and 
Babáckt Yaga found me…just like she found you. And…serving the Ancients 
became my Path in Life.”

“But you don’t have your skull.”

“No. I haven’t atoned for my father’s actions, so I don’t have my skull.”

“But really, what do you have to atone for? You didn’t do anything…”

“…and did you? What did you do? You were a bystander who watched a 
dishonorable act and did nothing. You are neither guilty nor innocent. I am the 
same as you. A bystander. A witness. Neither guilty nor innocent.”

The conversation was interrupted by a catch, a fine large perch that would feed 
them both. They landed the fish and returned to the settlement to cook and share a 
meal.

The next day was the day of the solstice. Danka had agreed to go with Káloyankt 
for a second outing. She wasn’t interested in talking about Káloyankt’s father, but 
she wanted to share some of her experiences at the Temple and get another 
person’s perspective. Also, noting his interest in her, she figured she’d make love 
to him if he asked. She administered herself a dose of birth-control paste…just in 
case.

She followed him to the pond, admiring his naked backside as he walked. She 
resisted the urge to touch him as she realized that she was aroused and wanted 
him to take her. He seemed different from Bagatúrckt: hopefully sex with him 
would be different as well. They picked enough berries for a snack before going 
to the pond. They swam, frolicking with each other before returning to the rocks 
to dry off in the sun.

Káloyankt couldn’t keep his eyes off Danka. She truly was a lovely sight: a 
woman at the very beginning of her youth, her body fit from her constant 
movement and evenly tanned from long hours outside, and fine delicate features 
that were so different from the usual drab appearance of a peasant-girl. Káloyankt 
found everything about Danka desirable, even her rough unrefined rural accent. 
She was a girl of nature, totally different from the sheltered indoor women 
inhabiting the fine houses of Sevérckt nad Gorádki.

Danka was not sure what to expect, but she was looking forward to having sex 
with Káloyankt. He was precisely the type of man she had been hoping to attract 
the year before. She sat quietly, waiting for him to begin. She had not yet 
discovered that women can initiate love-making just as easily as men.

Káloyankt began by running his hands over Danka’s body. He kissed her, starting 
with her neck, then moved to her lips. He was hard by the time he kissed her 
breasts and sucked her nipples. She responded by running her hands over his back. 
From the beginning his bottom had excited her, so her hands moved to that part of 
her lover. She actively explored him, which was something she had never tried 
with her first lover. Káloyankt ran his fingers between the girl’s thighs and over 
her vulva. She was wet and gasped with pleasure as he touched her.

Danka lay on her back as Káloyankt entered her. He thrust hard, over and over. 
His love-making was rough and vigorous, but that was what Danka expected. So 
far she had not experienced tender sex. She gasped with delight as pleasure 
overwhelmed her. For the first time in her life, she experienced an orgasm.

A few minutes later the couple was rinsing off in the water. They still had to catch 
their next meal, so the romantic moment of love-making transitioned to the 
practical task of sitting quietly and waiting for a fish. During the wait, they talked.

Danka talked about her year at the Temple and her lessons with the seminary 
student. Káloyankt was very impressed when she told him that in less than a year 
she had learned to read, write, do simple arithmetic, use the abacus, obtain a 
fundamental understanding of music, and memorize numerous hymns.

“If you could do all that in just a year, I think you’ll learn alchemy very quickly. I 
know that as soon as she returns, Babáckt Yaga will start teaching you some of 
the recipes. You’ll have to start learning the plants and formulas. She’ll test you to 
see how well you can remember things. If your memory is good, you’ll become 
responsible for tasks that are much more complicated.”

----------

Danka Síluckt was beginning to understand that she was blessed with an 
exceptional memory and the capacity to grasp new ideas and concepts very 
quickly. During her year at the Temple she had been held back by having to direct 
all of her efforts into learning how to read. Having mastered that basic skill, 
during her service under Babáckt Yaga there was nothing to interfere with her 
ability to learn a wider variety of subjects. She could remember simple recipes 
after having seen them just once, so within a few days Babáckt Yaga had her 
studying recipes that were more complicated. She received instructions on how to 
measure temperatures, weigh ingredients, calculate time, and work with fractions. 
Babáckt Yaga watched as Danka prepared medicines, with no guidance apart 
from following a recipe book. She understood the importance of identifying plants: 
when tasked to go out into the forest and find ingredients, she always returned 
with exactly what was needed.

Working the gardens was not a challenge for Danka at all. Her previous 
experience as both a peasant and seeing the experimental Church gardens in 
Starívktaki Móskt prepared her for working the gardens in Babáckt Yaga’s 
settlement. She already had a basic understanding of plant selection, so new ideas 
such as cross pollination and breeding plants for specific traits were easy for her 
to grasp.

Danka took pride in her work and her learning. She fully understood the 
importance of mastering potion-making and taking great care with the details of 
every recipe. She remembered the servant’s words about her instructor: “…her 
alchemy is something to behold, because her potions can heal many of the curses 
Beelzebub the Destroyer has inflicted on us…many evil things can be healed...or 
simply prevented…” She was excited to think that the mystery behind those 
potions had vanished; that she now knew how they worked and even how to 
prepare some of them.

----------

In the middle of July, Danka and Káloyankt left the forest with Babáckt Yaga and 
four fully initiated Followers. It was the first time since her arrival that Danka 
would leave the woods or see anyone other than a Follower. The group walked 
directly south, taking several steep and perilous shortcuts to hasten their trip. 
Before exiting the forest they put on their uniforms. As soon as they emerged into 
the open, they mounted a wagon driven by two guards who were waiting for them. 
The Followers rode the rest of the distance to a small town called Nagorónkti-
Serífkti and their destination, the settlement’s church.

The Priest explained that an apprentice and three hired workmen had been on the 
roof making repairs, unaware that the beams were not strong enough to support 
the weight of four men. They fell through and sustained injuries ranging from 
broken bones to severe lacerations. The men were lying on cots in the main 
chapel because the Clergy had been afraid to move them.

Danka would later learn that the Priest had to make a difficult decision to request 
assistance from the Followers. Nagorónkti-Serífkti was settled by True Believers, 
the faction of the Danubian Church that least got along with the Followers of the 
Ancients. However, the Priest needed to help his men if at all possible and only 
the Followers had the medical knowledge to do anything for them.

Between the four men there were two broken legs, three broken arms, several 
broken fingers, and some serious lacerations. Babáckt Yaga was relieved, because 
all of the injuries could be fixed. She directed her followers’ attention to the man 
who was bleeding the most, knowing that he needed attention first.

Danka watched as Babáckt Yaga set up some glassware and mixed several 
ingredients. Her assistants poured alcohol into a bowl and demanded boiling 
water and clean linen be brought to the operating site. The alchemist directed 
Danka to hold a mask to the injured man’s face. He became sleepy, which would 
help keep him calm while his injuries could be sewn up. For the first time in her 
life, Danka watched an operation that actually closed an open wound.

The Followers, including Káloyankt, moved to setting the broken bones. Babáckt 
Yaga administered a drug she called opium to ease the pain and then applied her 
chemical mask. It was a difficult and grim task to stretch out the limbs and set 
them in wooden frames, but Babáckt Yaga seemed satisfied that the limbs would 
all heal, which was not always the case, depending on the nature of the fracture.

Danka was present just to observe, but she marveled at what she was witnessing, 
the actual repair of injuries. She had seen neighbors die from similar mishaps in 
her parents’ settlement. It was a shock to find out those deaths could have been 
prevented had anyone among the day-laborers possessed the equipment and 
knowledge the Followers of the Ancients were using.

After making sure the patients had woken up, Babáckt Yaga issued some more 
opium and instructions for caring for the injuries. When the Priest asked her about 
payment, the alchemist responded:

“You know my payment, Priest. It’s the same as always. The Ancients demand 
the blood of the desecrater. When desecraters pass through this town, you will 
send them in my direction and you will advise me.”

“As you wish, Alchemist.”

“I have another demand, Priest. It has been two years since I cut the children here. 
I trust you have not had any cases of the pox?”

“No, Alchemist, we have not.”

“I brought my pox potion. At sunset I want you to ring your bell and gather all the 
people of Nagorónkti-Serífkti. I will cut any children or youth that were not cut 
two years ago.”

----------

The townsfolk gathered in the church square as the daylight faded. Danka noted 
that many of the older people were marked with smallpox scars, but none of the 
younger people had suffered the affliction. The last smallpox epidemic in 
Nagorónkti-Serífkti had passed two decades before. As the townsfolk pushed their 
terrified children towards the church, Káloyankt explained to Danka that Babáckt 
Yaga had spent many years studying diseases and had learned some interesting 
details about smallpox. It turned out that cattle had a similar version of the 
sickness and that Babáckt Yaga had figured out it was possible to create an 
antidote for the human smallpox from the cow version. She did not dare tell 
anyone the antidote came from sick cows, because no one would have accepted 
vaccination. The public would be vaccinated, but in a way that was acceptable to 
the thinking at the time.

The Priest conducted a brief service and issued a series of prayers while the 
Followers prepared the vaccination knives and the solution. The residents needed 
reassurance that the Lord-Creator had approved what was about to happen to their 
children, so the event had to be preceded with religious fanfare. The unvaccinated 
children were marched in single file towards the alchemist and her assistants, 
accompanied by hymn-singing and holy fires. 

Danka had expected to be a mere observer, or perhaps assist in a minor way. 
However, Babáckt Yaga ordered both her and Káloyankt to step forward, strip off 
their clothing, and kneel in front of the long line of children. She uncovered a 
small metal rod with a saw-tooth end, dipped it in a jar of ointment and placed it 
against Danka’s left shoulder. Then she looked towards the sky and screamed:

“Beelzebub! The Lord-Creator and the Son of Man cast out your vile presence! 
Never shall you touch this lass with your evil pox!”

Danka winced as the knife tore into her skin, leaving a small bleeding cut. 
Babáckt Yaga whispered:

“Now you wear the mark that will protect you from the pox. Do not touch your 
shoulder. Stand behind me, with your left side facing the people so they can see 
your injury. Do not move until I give you permission.”

Babáckt Yaga cut Káloyankt’s shoulder in the same manner, and screamed the 
same chant to the Roman Christian God and his son. The naked initiates quietly 
stood behind their mistress, as proof she was not about to do anything to the local 
youth that she would not do to her own followers.

For the rest of the night, Babáckt Yaga cut the shoulders of children and shouted: 
“Beelzebub! The Lord-Creator and the Son of Man cast out your vile presence! 
Never shall you touch this child with your evil pox!”

The accompanying pain from the procedure and screaming of each patient were 
interpreted as confirmation of the casting out of a curse, not as a simple medical 
procedure.

As she watched the proceedings and resisted the urge to touch her throbbing 
shoulder, Danka was able to look upon religious ceremonies and spiritual fanfare 
from a totally new perspective. Babáckt Yaga spent the entire night lying. Her 
Pagan beliefs did not accept in the divinity of the Roman Son of Man, and for her 
using the Roman name Beelzebub to refer to the Destroyer was an insult to the 
Danubian cosmos. She didn’t believe in her own theatrics, but she had to perform 
for the people so they could accept what she was doing to their offspring. Babáckt 
Yaga had her own faith and her own world-view, but that view was not accepted 
by the True Believers. Faced with a practical task that she needed to accomplish, 
she hid her beliefs and put on a performance that met the spiritual needs of a town 
of Christians. 

----------

By the end of the summer Danka had embraced her Path in Life as an initiate of 
the Follower of the Ancients. She remained intimidated by Babáckt Yaga but at 
the same time deeply admired her. The old woman’s knowledge of the world 
seemed limitless. She was anxious to share with others, and Danka had become 
her favorite student. The girl learned fast and her ability to remember new ideas 
and information was exceptional. So, Danka’s daily life became one of constant 
learning, mostly of things that were practical and could help people in the real 
world. She started reading Babáckt Yaga’s translations of foreign scientific works 
and frequently used a dictionary to look up and learn complicated words she did 
not understand. Whenever she came across any strange word or concept, she 
wrote it down and memorized it.

Danka spent some of her time alone reflecting on what had happened between her 
and Bagatúrckt. The trauma from her ordeal with him was fading, but she came 
out of the experience changed. The best comparison she could think of was her 
hometown Rika Héckt-nemát and the flood that took place decades before. The 
town, the people, and the Rika Chorna river were there before the flood and 
remained after the flood, but when the river changed course, the area was not the 
same after the waters receded. Eventually life went back to “normal”, but 
“normal” preceding the flood differed from “normal” following the flood.

So…how was Danka different after her own flood, the one that swept away her 
virginity and much of her naivety? Her ideas about love, trust, and finding 
happiness through another person certainly changed. Before Bagatúrckt she had 
believed that her happiness depended on finding it through another person. She 
also had been convinced love and sex went together. By the end of her first 
summer in the forest her emotions were hardening, making her less vulnerable to 
the whims of the men in her life. She also understood that love and sex could be 
separated: in fact often the two had nothing to do with each other. She took that 
lesson to her relationship with Káloyankt, that she could have sex with him 
without necessarily being in love with him.

She spent the summer making love to Káloyankt whenever they had a few 
minutes to spare. She enjoyed her time with him, but as the summer progressed 
she realized her feelings towards him were ambiguous. She couldn’t figure out 
why that would be, because she admired him and knew that had she met him just 
a year earlier, she would have been desperate to marry him. However, in the 
settlement of Babáckt Yaga, marriage was not a priority for any of the Followers 
or the initiates. They had a multitude of other worries and just didn’t think about 
such things, so neither did Danka. It was clear that Káloyankt was deeply in love 
with her, but he too adhered to the unspoken custom of the Followers; that as long 
as he was working in the forest, marriage was not a priority or something to be 
discussed.

Still, Danka did enjoy the sex. Babáckt Yaga showed her a book from a place 
called India that had pictures of different sexual positions. She was eager to try 
them during her escapades with her lover. He obliged, happy to be with a woman 
that constantly had new ideas and wanted to try new things. However, the 
constant experimenting with new positions planted a subversive idea in Danka’s 
thoughts. Káloyankt was not the only man in the world. What would having sex 
with other men be like? Did different men have different styles of making love? 
Was there any difference between making love to a young man and an older one? 
Between a noble and a farmhand? 

By the end of the summer Danka realized something about herself that would 
have shocked her just a few months before: that if the opportunity presented itself, 
she’d be willing to have sex with someone other than her current lover. Not just 
willing, but it was something she actually wanted. She looked around at the other 
men in the settlement, noting the differences in their physiques and wondering 
how they might differ from Káloyankt if she had the opportunity to offer herself 
to them.

----------

During the last week of August, Babáckt Yaga ordered Káloyankt, Danka, and 
three other initiates; a young man and two young women, to her study. Two older 
men also were present; the two Followers who had been with Babáckt Yaga the 
longest and enjoyed their leader’s full trust. The initiates knelt as the alchemist 
made an important announcement:

“The Priest from Nagorónkti-Serífkti contacted me with some interesting news. A 
group of fortune-seekers is coming up into the forest today. They are travelling to 
the ancient Alter of the Equinox, because they are planning to raid relics stored in 
the cave. The Priest gave them a map to the site, which is the same map I gave 
him the day we cut the children. With your assistance, we will intercept the 
fortune-seekers and capture them. If we are successful and their blood is pleasing 
to the Ancients, you will have the opportunity to atone for your offenses. That 
includes you, Danka Síluckt, especially you. Perhaps you will be pleased to know 
the men we are planning to capture are from Vienna. They are friends of your 
former Master. Therefore, you will assume the most important role in bringing 
them under our control. Have you memorized the Temple Song of Seduction?”

“Yes, Babáckt Yaga.”

“Let’s hear you.”

In archaic Danubian Danka sang:

Man’s first woman had fruit in her garden…
Sweet fruit no man would resist…
She knelt and offered her very best…
He came to her to indulge…
Sweetness beyond what he had known…
Man and woman joined…

“Excellent. You’ve learned well, Danka Síluckt.” Babáckt Yaga address the other 
two women. “I want to hear you sing with her. Follow her. Merge your voices as 
much as you can. Sing, as though you were one.”

Danka led as her companions sang along, carefully following her voice. They 
adapted their voices to the pitch of Danka’s voice in a technique Babáckt Yaga 
called “spiritual merging”. The effect was music that sounded supernatural, which 
was exactly what would be needed for the Followers’ plans.

“All three of you have pleased me with your efforts and your learning. If the 
Ancients bless us, tonight you will atone for your actions and tomorrow you will 
earn your skulls.”

Babáckt Yaga ordered Káloyankt to leave the house. She unbraided Danka’s hair, 
handed her a scarf to hide it under, and a comb that she would use later that night.

The members of Babáckt Yaga’s settlement dressed in their dark clothing. The 
Cult members carried their skull-staffs and other items needed for the night’s 
outing, while the two other female initiates walked out carrying small lamps and a 
supply of special lamp-oil. The only item Danka carried was her comb.

Káloyankt, his fellow initiate, and two other men assigned to serve as lookouts 
already had departed. They went out disguised as brigands, wearing light brown 
clothing and soft shoes that had been chemically treated to confuse sniffing dogs. 
They quietly observed their prey: three heavily-armed Austrians on horseback 
guarded by two Danubian mercenaries and accompanied by a servant leading two 
heavily-loaded mules. The group had four large hounds with them. Word of 
Bagatúrckt’s fate had reached Vienna by the middle of July, so this group was not 
about to take any chances. Káloyankt later commented that a better way for those 
men not to take any chances would have been to stay in Vienna.

The first challenge to resolve was neutralizing the hounds. The scouts laid out 
pieces of drugged meat in places the dogs would find them, but where their 
masters would be unlikely to see. The meat was in small amounts and hidden 
inside the skins of squirrels. The purpose of the ruse was not to poison the canines, 
but to drug them so they would continue walking with the group, but not be alert 
enough to respond to noise or sniff out any danger.

The next part of the capture would depend on calculating exactly where the group 
would be when dusk fell and they would stop for the night. There were three 
clearings the mercenaries could choose from as likely locations to set up a camp. 
By late afternoon it appeared they would be approaching the second one just as it 
was starting to get dark. Babáckt Yaga scouted a location where Danka and the 
other two women could set up after sunset, a small cleared area on a hill 
overlooking the camp that would be visible, but difficult to access quickly in the 
dark. 

Followed by their now-listless dogs, the group set up camp while the mercenaries 
looked around the woods to search for possible danger. They found 
nothing…certainly the dogs did not sense anything out of the ordinary, so the 
group tied their horses and lit a fire.

Meanwhile, Danka and her companions snuck to the hillside and placed their oil 
lamps in a circle. The oil had been chemically treated to cast pale green light on 
Danka’s body. Following Babáckt Yaga’s previous instructions, Danka took off 
her dress and knelt in the middle of the circle of lamps. She uncovered her hair 
and started combing it in the dark. After her accomplices lit the lamps and 
retreated into the darkness, she began to sing:

Man’s first woman had fruit in her garden…
Sweet fruit no man would resist…
She knelt and offered her very best…
He came to her to indulge…
Sweetness beyond what he had known…
Man and woman joined…

After the first stanza, the other women accompanied her to add mystery to the 
ancient song of seduction. Danka continued to comb her hair and proceeded with 
the next verse.

I have fruit in my garden…
Sweet fruit no man will resist…
I kneel to you and offer my very best…
Come to me and indulge…
Sweetness beyond what you have known…
Man and woman joined…

The Danubian guides had been prepared for just about anything, but they had not 
been prepared to see a naked forest nymph singing a Pagan tune on a hillside. It 
was an illusion, it just had to be: there was no way that weird green light 
illuminating the girl could be natural. And the singing…was it one voice or 
several? Danka continued, in an ancient language none of the trespassers could 
understand:

I keep my garden under water…
With sweet fruit you will not resist…
I reach my arms to the surface…
I will pull you to the depths…
Deeper and deeper into my garden of pleasure…
From which no man ever returns…

In the dim light Danka could faintly make out the bewildered faces of the five 
men as they approached through the thick brush, each with a sword or crossbow 
in his hand. One of the Austrians pointed a large musket at her. A black cloth 
slipped over the face of the man farthest to the rear and he disappeared from view. 
The next face to vanish belonged to the man carrying the firearm. As he passed 
out, a Follower quickly grabbed the weapon to prevent it from being fired. In 
quick succession each of the remaining faces vanished behind black cloths.

The captives remained unconscious while the Followers immobilized their hands 
and feet. Another group of Babáckt Yaga’s assistants captured the mule-handler 
and took control of the horses. The operation went perfectly. With no struggle 
whatsoever, five heavily armed fighting men, an assistant, numerous weapons, 
fine horses, four hunting hounds, and expedition supplies had been seized by the 
Followers. Danka and her companions continued to sing, until Babáckt Yaga 
realized that she needed to tell them to stop. The other initiates extinguished and 
collected the lamps while Danka got dressed. 

Within minutes the Followers had the campsite cleaned up and were moving north 
with their unconscious prisoners. The captives had to be carefully monitored 
during the journey, to make sure they stayed alive but without regaining 
consciousness. The group spent a night of non-stop walking and climbing, passing 
through groves of thick trees and finally emerging into a large open meadow. 
Standing alone on a small hill was their goal, the Altar of Blood-nourishment. 
They arrived at the holy site shortly after sunrise. 

Above ground the holy site was little more than the altar itself, built under a small 
stone roof supported by pillars.  However, the ground underneath was filled with 
an ancient labyrinth of tunnels, chambers, and passages. The underground 
complex was enormous, comparable in size to the catacombs of Rome. And yet, it 
was a secret that only a few dozen living souls knew about. The captives were 
taken into separate cells where Babáckt Yaga would interview them. She spoke 
fluent German, so she would be able to talk to the Austrians with no problem. 
Although she was convinced all the treasure hunters were worthy of being 
sacrificed, she needed to be absolutely sure.

While she waited for the captives to wake up, Babáckt Yaga called together the 
five initiates who had participated in the capture. She told Káloyankt and the three 
others they had earned their skulls and would become full members of the Cult, 
an event that would be celebrated on the day of the fall equinox. She answered 
Danka’s question before she had a chance to ask.

“As for you…not yet. I have another tasking for you.” She dismissed Danka’s 
companions and continued: “Today, you must determine the fate of a man. Will 
he go on the altar and bleed with the others, or will he leave the forest? You will 
make that determination.”

Danka wasn’t sure how to react. Having such a huge responsibility thrust upon 
her was not something she could have anticipated. It certainly was not something 
she wanted. The alchemist continued:

“I am convinced five men in that group have offended the Ancients many times 
over. Unless one of them has a huge surprise for me, at midnight I will drive my 
knife into five bodies. The sixth man, the mule driver, is the one I don’t know 
about. He might be a willing party to the fortune-hunters, or he may be like you, 
an ignorant bystander. You will talk to him, determine what is in his heart, and 
then you will decide what to do with him. I will honor any decision you make, 
even if I think it is incorrect. However, I will expect you to explain, in a clear 
detail, why you made the decision you made, what specific facet of his Path in 
Life he shared with you that made you decide whether he is worth sparing or not 
sparing. Before you run-off and spare him with no consideration, you will need to 
remember that he must be kept silent concerning what happened here. So think 
about it. If you spare that man, how will you ensure he will not talk about us or 
seek to avenge his companions? If you condemn him, how will you justify your 
decision when you hold your mirror before the Creator? So, that is your dilemma, 
Danka Síluckt, the riddle I place at your feet. Answer it correctly, and you will 
atone for your offense against the Ancients and earn your skull.”

“Yes, Babáckt Yaga.”

Danka accompanied a Cult elder to the underground passageway, full of 
resentment that while the others were going to receive their skulls with no further 
effort, she was going to have to pass an extra and extremely difficult test of 
character. Later she would realize Babáckt Yaga had a very good reason to put 
her through the ordeal of deciding the mule-handler’s fate. It was true the others 
were going to be initiated with no further tests, but they had been serving Babáckt 
Yaga for nearly a year and already had proven themselves. Danka had been with 
Babáckt Yaga a mere three months, so the alchemist was convinced an additional 
tasking was necessary to determine if the newcomer was ready to join with her 
companions. Babáckt Yaga was very impressed with Danka’s ability to learn 
quickly, comprehend new concepts, and memorize everything from hymns to 
plant species to alchemy formulas. She was a gifted girl, so the Cult leader wanted 
to bring her into her closest circle of confidants as quickly as possible. However, 
she couldn’t justify doing so unless the newcomer could prove she was capable of 
gathering enough information to make a difficult decision.

Carrying an oil lantern, the elder led Danka through several dark passageways to a 
small cell. He opened the door and ordered a very frightened young man to come 
out. Danka knew that before she talked to him, she needed to establish her 
superiority. With her rough lower-class accent, that might be a problem if the 
mule-handler was a guild-member. On a flash of inspiration she ordered him to 
strip. That should take care of it, thought Danka. Guild-member or not, if he’s 
naked and I’m wearing my dress, I’m the one in control here.

Danka’s idea worked. The man cowered in terror as soon as he finished 
undressing. Danka announced that she wanted to take him outside for a while to 
talk. The elder tied his hands behind his back and blindfolded him so that he 
would not know how to navigate the passageways. Upon exiting, Danka requested 
the elder to take off the blindfold and untie his hands. The initiate ordered her 
captive to kneel.

“You are not free. You need to understand that. You will do whatever I tell you. If 
you take a look at those woods, you will see they go on for a long way in every 
direction. We know the trails and you don’t. So, you are no closer to escaping 
than when you were locked in that cell. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“My title is ‘Initiate’. I am an initiate of the Followers of the Ancients.” Danka 
was thrilled at the thought of referring to herself with a title. She realized she 
actually had a title. She was an initiate of the Cult of the Ancients, and if she 
completed her current assignment, after the equinox her title would be “Follower 
of the Ancients”. She’d no longer be a peasant or a laborer; she’d be a woman 
with a title and an assigned place in society.

“Yes, Initiate.”

“That’s better. Now, who are you?”

“My name is Tihomirikt…I’m from the borderlands south of Hórkustk 
Ris…but…I don’t live there anymore. I had to leave…”

“Why?”

“Foreigners came up from the south…from the other side of the border…they 
drove everyone out of our town…killed my father…my uncle…and so we went 
north…my mother…my aunt…cousins…my younger brother…and we're staying 
outside Danúbikt Móskt.”

“So, what brought you here? Why are you working for Austrian fortune-seekers?”

“When we camped outside the capitol, the Grand Duke’s men gave us some food, 
but they told us we’d have to leave if we couldn’t find work. They asked if any of 
us were guild members. My father was, and I was an apprentice…we belonged to 
the Horse-Trainers’ Guild…but my father was dead…and I hadn’t completed my 
final tasking to become a member…and all of the men who could vouch for me 
were killed, so the only proof I had was my word.”

“Very well, you claim you have training as an apprentice with the Horse-Trainers’ 
Guild, but you have no way to prove it. You did not answer my question. Why are 
you working for foreign fortune-hunters?”

“The guards told me that traders’ caravans in Sebérnekt Ris were looking for 
horse handlers. So, I left my family and went north to see if that was true. It 
wasn’t, but there were some people who wanted a worker to handle their pack-
mules. I decided to take the position. I hated it. I dishonored the memory of my 
father and the Horse-Trainer’s Guild by accepting a mule-handler’s job, but I 
wanted to make sure my family didn’t have to move again. So, the two guides 
from the Duchy, the ones who are working for the foreign fortune-hunters, hired 
me to lead their pack-mules and care for their horses.”

Interesting story, thought Danka, assuming it’s true. In just a few sentences 
Tihomirikt provided her with a lot of information that she would have to verify. 
She didn’t know much about the situation along the Duchy’s southern border, but 
she had heard rumors that many Danubians had fled their homes over the past 
year because of an invasion from a foreign monarch who called himself the Lord 
of the Red Moon.

She ordered Tihomirikt to stand up and follow her to the edge of the meadow. She 
glanced at a gully with a small stream that flowed into a rocky pool. She noted 
that her captive smelled as bad as his mules and his stench irritated her. She 
ordered him to bathe, while she watched. When he finished, she ordered him to 
kneel in front of her while he shivered and the water dripped off his body. She 
was totally fascinated by what she was doing. For the first time in her life she was 
giving orders to a man who was obeying her. There was no hint of resistance or 
resentment coming from Tihomirikt, because he understood that he was very 
likely to die unless he pleased his captors.

Danka’s thoughts were in turmoil. She knew that she had to verify Tihomirikt’s 
story, without knowing much about the Horse-Trainers’ Guild and without having 
seen any of the places he had mentioned as part of his travels. She had no way of 
knowing whether he really had a family, or whether or not they were refugees 
living outside Danúbikt Móskt. She pondered how to question him, but realized 
that the best way to proceed would be to use his experiences to satisfy her own 
curiosity about the cities of western Danubia. She’d simply encourage him to talk 
about his life and give descriptions of all those new places. Then she’d make him 
talk about the Horse-Trainer’s Guild and how they educated their apprentices. 
Finally, after she had gained his trust, she’d find out about the fortune-hunters and 
figure out how much he knew about their plans.

It turned out Tihomirikt badly needed someone to talk to. His life was ruined and 
his employers had insulted and mistreated him. He moved back and forth in his 
narrative, talking about his father and his lost town, talking about the fine horses 
he had trained with, talking about the fearful flight northward and refugee life in 
the capitol, and his fear of the unfamiliar mountains of northern Danubia. It 
turned out he was nothing more than a hired-hand of the fortune-hunters. He 
didn’t know what they were seeking, nor did he really care. He just wanted the 
experience to be finished, to receive his pay, and return to his family. So…in 
Danka’s mind, one question was answered. Tihomirikt would not make a suitable 
sacrifice on the Altar of Blood-nourishment. He would have to be released. Her 
dilemma now was to figure out how to ensure he did not pose a threat to the 
Followers after he was freed. 

As she pondered how Tihomirikt should be released, she admired his body. She 
was curious to touch him. Since he was her prisoner and forced to do whatever 
she wanted, she knew she could satisfy her curiosity without fear of him forcing 
himself on her or rejecting her. She was in charge.

She ordered him to lie on his back on a flat rock, close his eyes, and extend his 
hands over his head. She traced his chest and thighs with her fingertips. He 
became erect immediately. Curious, she touched his penis and ran her fingers over 
his testicles.

“Have you ever been with a woman, Tihomirikt?”

“No, Initiate. I haven’t.”

“I’d imagine it’s something you dream about, isn’t it?”

“Yes, initiate.”

“Life is full of strange dreams, Tihomirikt. If you knew me…you’d know that is 
true, in my life especially.”

“Yes, Initiate.”

Danka took off her apron and laid it over her captive’s face. Then she took off her 
dress and tossed it aside. Finally, she returned to massaging his already-hard penis.

“You are dreaming now, Tihomirikt. You will not dare wake up until I give you 
permission. Do not move your hands and do not uncover your face. Remember, 
dreams can become reality and reality can become dreams.”

Danka was about to satisfy something that she had been curious about for several 
weeks. She wanted to know what it would be like to make love to a man by 
straddling him, by being on top instead of having to assume a submissive posture. 
Making sure he was hard enough to push completely inside, she lowered herself 
over his erect member. She rocked back and forth, completely enjoying a new 
sensation, not just how his penis felt inside her, but also the feeling of being in 
control during sex. For the first time, Danka was in completely in charge of her 
love-making. The tremendous psychological rush pushed her to have the best 
orgasm she had enjoyed since losing her virginity.

He moaned and she felt his semen pumping into her. When he finished, she 
ordered him not to move while she rinsed off in the pool. She then put on her 
dress and retrieved her apron. When she finally allowed him to open his eyes and 
sit up, he looked totally bewildered, as though he was unsure if he really had 
entered her or if he had been dreaming.

Without saying anything more, she ordered the captive to return with her to the 
tunnel entrance. He was terrified when he realized that he was about to be 
blindfolded and taken back to his cell. As soon as her prisoner was locked up, 
Danka devised a plan for disposing of him in a way that ensured he would never 
pose a threat. The Followers of the Ancients would have to give up some of the 
booty they had captured from the fortune-hunters, but Danka knew that would be 
of little concern to Babáckt Yaga. Sure enough, when she shared her plan with the 
alchemist, she could tell Babáckt Yaga was very pleased with her judgment.

“Your plan is as good as anything I could have concocted. You scheme balances 
wisdom, mercy, and caution. As soon as we can tranquilize him and collect what 
we need, I’ll have him taken out of here.”

“Am I going with him, Babáckt Yaga?”

“No. If it were any other night, I’d hold you responsible for escorting your 
prisoner. However, tonight you will have to bear witness to the appeasement of 
the Ancients, so the Great Spirits demand that you stay with us at the Altar.”

Tihomirikt’s masters would not be so lucky. Their conversations with Babáckt 
Yaga confirmed they were nothing more than grave-robbers. They had education 
and titles and were pursuing their loot in the name of “knowledge”, but they 
remained grave-robbers. Their Paths in Life were offensive to the Followers of 
the Ancients. Only the flow of their blood could atone for what they were 
planning to do.

----------

Danka took her place among the other women shortly before midnight. The 
female followers stood in a circle around the Altar, dressed in their black outfits 
and wearing hoods to obscure their faces. Each woman held her skull-staff, which 
cast off a sinister orange light. The altar area was illuminated by oil lamps with oil 
treated to burn red. The lighting was designed to highlight the terror of the 
sacrificial victim: the dim red altar surrounded by a circle of orange skulls, 
accompanied by a chant that had not changed in 5000 years.

The women’s role was to recite the ancient Blood Hymn while the male 
Followers brought out and restrained the subjects. Like the women, the men were 
dressed in black and their faces obscured by hoods. The group’s leader was 
completely naked, but her body was covered with white chalk highlighted with 
charcoal dust. The make-up was similar to the body-paint used by penitents 
during the Day of the Dead, but more elaborate and thus more scary-looking.

Danka sang with the others, holding a staff she had borrowed from one of the 
male Followers. In spite of the grim event she was about to witness, the main 
thought running her mind was the satisfaction that she was about to have her own 
staff, with its unique skull, crafted in her honor. The staff would show the world 
and the Ancients that she was a fully-accepted “Follower”. She was excited and 
proud, and also without much pity for the sacrificial captives. If she felt any 
sympathy at all, she whispered “Bagatúrckt”. Her former master’s name became 
her personal chant. Whenever she was called upon to neutralize pity, the memory 
of the tormentor who had taken away her innocence was all she needed.

The victims were brought out and sacrificed one-by-one. The men brought out the 
first fortune-hunter. He screamed and viciously struggled when he realized where 
he was being taken and what was about to happen to him. The screaming and the 
struggle were part of the sacrificial ritual. With difficulty the men managed to 
position their subject on the altar and chain his wrists and ankles. They cut open 
the victim’s shirt and marked a spot near the heart where Babáckt Yaga would 
plunge her knife. The leader showed up, carrying a large and very crudely-made 
bronze dagger. Danka vaguely wondered how many victims that dagger had 
entered over the centuries.

Babáckt Yaga’s most trusted elders helped her get on the altar and straddle the 
fortune-hunter. He was screaming maniacally. Perfect. In archaic Danubian, the 
old woman shouted:

“The dirty blood of the vile offender will cleanse the earth! Ancient ones, we 
implore you to accept this red river of life, a gift for the nourishment of the 
world!”

The leader expertly plunged the knife into the exact spot marked by her assistants. 
The screaming suddenly stopped. She plunged the knife a second time into the 
victim’s neck, severing the artery and producing the flow of red river needed to 
sustain the cosmos of the Cult of the Ancients. 

The stench of fresh blood hit Danka’s nose. It didn’t bother her in the least. It was 
the same smell she experienced every time she had to butcher an animal for 
dinner. Like her companions, she continued to chant as the body was taken away 
and the next screaming victim brought to the altar.

Bagatúrckt... Bagatúrckt... Bagatúrckt

----------

The next morning Tihomirikt woke up in an unfamiliar village, sleeping under a 
tree next to the local Priest’s house. His head ached in a very strange manner and 
it took him a long time to completely come to his senses. He realized he was lying 
on a comfortable bedroll and dressed in elegant clothing. A sword and an 
expensive Austrian musket lay at his side. He looked around for his employers, 
but didn’t see anything except a fine horse…like the ones his father used to train. 

Where was he? Was he dreaming? Or had he been dreaming and just woken up? 
Did he have employers to whom that horse belonged, or was the horse his? Was 
the musket his? How could he be wearing expensive clothing, if the clothing 
wasn’t his? What about the mules? Had there been mules? He looked around. No 
mules…just the horse…

There had been a girl…a completely naked green nymph singing on a 
hillside …or was she the cult member wearing a black dress? The nymph and the 
girl looked alike…but no…there were no such thing as nymphs…or…were there? 
Had he made love to a nymph? …or the girl in the black dress? Both? Neither?

His thoughts returned to his outfit, his musket, and his horse. What a strange 
dream. I need to get my bearings…figure out where I am…

He looked in his saddlebag. It contained a stock of dried food and three pieces of 
gold. Gold...my family…I must go back and make sure they are well…

Before Tihomirikt left the village, he stopped at the city square to purchase sheets 
of parchment and an ink-well. The girl in the forest…the one of his dreams…he’d 
have to write about her so he wouldn’t forget.
 

----------


Note: At this point in my narrative, as a researcher I must insert a comment about 
the Cult of the Ancients and the popular distortion of history. Nineteenth-century 
romanticists and historians tried to obscure the reality that human sacrifice was 
an integral part of the Followers’ beliefs, a practice that dated back five thousand 
years. 

When the Cult of the Ancients formed, human sacrifice was common throughout 
Europe. The ancient Danubians conducted human sacrifices as well. The 
children’s storybooks, poems, and songs that romanticize the Followers, as well 
as commercial tour-guides who lead excursions into the North Mountain National 
Park, fail to mention that reality. However, one cannot understand the Followers 
of the Ancients without accepting the fact they obtained the skulls they carried on 
their staffs from sacrificial victims. It is also important to remember that the 
Followers were much more sparing with their sacrifices than most pre-Christian 
cults. An average peasant or villager had nothing to fear from the Followers, 
which partly explains why human sacrifice in the forests of northern Danubia was 
tolerated and continued centuries after the practice had died out everywhere else. 

Finding and capturing suitable sacrificial subjects was challenging, because only 
the blood of those who directly offended the Great Spirits was acceptable. The 
blood had to be from an able-bodied adult who, through his own decisions and 
deliberate actions, had physically harmed a Follower or who had desecrated or 
intended to desecrate a Holy Site. During the seventeenth and eighteenth 
centuries, fortune hunters, especially foreigners who did not respect ancient 
Danubian lore, were the main source of victims for the Altar of Blood-
nourishment. The challenge for the Followers was that usually fortune hunters 
were aggressive, well-armed, and traveled in groups. Identifying, luring, and 
subduing such victims was difficult and dangerous, but was also an important 
part of the sacrificial ritual. It had to be that way, because the blood of a person 
who was helpless, weak, or innocent would bring a curse to the Ancients instead 
of nourishing the Earth’s life-cycle.

- Maritza Ortskt-Dukovna -