#raven grimassi

[santoschristos]

“The Witch can gaze clearly into the dark hidden corners of the human psyche just as the full moon can light up the darkness of night.” — Raven Grimassi Astronomy witch by Mahaboka

[starthereligious]

Italian Folk Magic: Open or Closed?

Hi. My name's Star, and I am a Sicilian Catholic and Italian folk practitioner.

I often see the book Italian Folk Magic by Mary Grace-Fahrun circulated as the one source for Italian folk magic. It was a good beginner resource for me just because I could point and say "oh hey my grandparents do that!", but I wouldn't really recommend it beyond that-- mainly because it just... made up a lot of shit? But I digress.

There is a section of Italian Folk Magic that addresses the few reading who are not Italian. It says that they are welcome to practice. Grace-Fahrun compares non-Italians practicing to Westerners liking anime. And... I don't think those two are quite comparable?

First off, Italian folk magic is inseparable from Catholicism. Catholicism is a closed religion. Unlike Protestant denominations, you can't just switch to being Catholic at any time. There is a very specific conversion process-- you must be baptized, take your first Communion/Eucharist, and eventually, be confirmed as a Catholic under supervision of a priest.

Secondly, it does depend on what practice you're talking about. There are three main practices in IFM-- Stregheria, Stregoneria, and Benedicaria.

Stregheria is just some shit someone made up. In "Italian Witchcraft", published 1995, Raven Grimassi claims to be part of an ancient Italian tradition that quickly falls apart if you do any further research. With that being said, I don't see why you couldn't practice it? I just don't understand why you would.

Stregoneria is a modern term. In Catholic Italy, nobody would ever call themselves strege, or witches, as the word has demonic connotations in Italy-- but it is used to describe a very specific hereditary practice. Stregoneria is a tradition passed down very specifically from one practitioner, a maga/mago, to the next. This specific practice is closed, as it's typically passed down through generations.

Benedicaria is closed. It's a very regional combination of herbalism, folk healing, and prayer that you need to be a devout Catholic to practice.

That being said, there are plenty of herb correspondences and superstitions from Italian tradition that you could incorporate into your practice! But that's a post for later.

learn more! [1] [2]

[buy me a coffee]

[grimoire-of-geekery]

What are your favorite books on energy work (sorry, I know you don’t like the term but idk what else to call it) and spirit work?

I don't have any recommendations for books on "energy work," but there are some interesting exercises in the back of Ed Fitch's "A Grimoire of Shadows" you might look at?

So far as spirit work goes, I have a number of suggestions, but I will be honest, most of my spirit work practices are things I worked out myself, coupled with a few ideas I picked up from teachers over the years.

That being said, here's a list in no particular order-

The Witch's Familiar by Raven Grimassi

Spirit Allies, and City Magick, both by Christopher Penczak

The Encyclopedia of Spirits by Judika Iles

Summoning Forth Wiccan Gods and Goddesses by Lady Maeve Rhea (strictly for invocation and psychic first aid purposes)

Beyond that, just study folklore. Try to understand the culture you're interacting with when you're working with a particular spirit or entity. And please keep in mind, not everything is a "spirit," some things are different than others. Not all "faeries" have an iron problem, not all "demons" are in any way concerned with Judaism or Christianity or Islam, and so on.

[silverthornwitchery]

Lookin into the tradition and beliefs held by Raven Grimassi + the Aridian tradition (though maybe not historically accurate in a widely-held Italian belief sense), it definetly SHAPES my world view, and I feel it's where my goddess, my God, and ancestors have lead me to.

I see a lot of overlap with my Celtic and Germanic paths, lots and lots of syncretism, and it feels like the puzzle pieces are finally fitting together.

My syncretisms at the moment:

Diana >> Druantia/Arduinna/Abnoba/Flidais >> Freyja/Frigg

Dianus(Stag, aka Kern) >>> Cernunnos >>> Freyr

Dianus(Wolf, aka Lupercus) >>> Lugus >>> Woden

This is very very barebones and not the full extent but it's been on my mind lately. Especially Lupercus-Woden

[voraciouskingdom]

“The Witch can gaze clearly into the dark hidden corners of the human psyche just as the full moon can light up the darkness of night” - Raven Grimassi

🌙💙🌙

[talonabraxas]

'Lady Mandrake' Golden Age series

Atelier Arabesque Due of its anthropomorphic roots, halfway between the plant and animal worlds, the mandrake has been associated with magic, witchcraft and the supernatural. Since ancient times, the mandrake was believed to have miraculous powers. In ancient Greece, the mandrake, especially the root, was believed to be the plant par excellence of Hecate, the ‘Lady of the Underworld’, and was also identified with Selene, the goddess of the Moon. The Mandrake was regarded as a symbol of good fortune, the fascinating medieval folklore attributed both lethal and curative powers to the plant. Mandrake Roots by Zhen Huang Birds do it, bees do it Even Mandragora roots do it Let's do it, let's fall in love The Mandrake as a Familiar The mandrake was seen during Medieval times as a sort of anthropomorphic vegetable – a plant that was also human-like. Therefore whoever possessed the mandrake also possessed a powerful familiar spirit to do his or her magical bidding.

[songsofbloodandwater]

The Mysteries of The Rose

"The rose reveals the portal that opens into the center of all things. This center is symbolized by the rose blossom." — Raven Grimassi in Grimoire of the Thorn-Blooded Witch.

The system I use in my personal practice is based not only on the dual concept of Blood and Water, but also on the pursuit of what I now shall call The Mysteries of The Rose. This system is informed by hereditary practices, ancestral veneration and the aid and perspectives of other practitioners.

One of the books that, much to my surprise, manages to match some of the beliefs that sum up this system, is Grimoire of the Thorn-Blooded Witch, where the author describes 'Five levels' of training in witchcraft, and acquiring mastery over each as 'gathering a thorn'. Personally, I view it slightly different. What I see are six, not five, skills that a successful practitioner should hone, and I see it less like levels (complete and perfect mastery being unachievable) and more like Doors that one crosses (into an ongoing process).

Then, the Doors to the Mysteries are sixfold, as six petals surrounding the center, and these doors are: herbalism and greencraft, magic, and stonecraft, mediumship, mysticism, and seership. Five of these match exactly the ones described by Grimassi, with the sixth being the addition of stonecraft. A skill, and a Door, to Spirits that are often misrepresented, or underrepresented, in witchcraft, if not forgotten and left aside completely.

These Doors are also divided in two sets of Threes. The First Set involves daily practices that define the present, tangible life of the witch, the Second Set involve Ties with the Other, with the Intangible, Spiritual world. Finally, a cross over the rose blossom represents, among other things, the Intersectedness of these skills. How none of them must be practiced in isolation, and instead, must be studied side by side, with each one supporting the others, to allow the practitioner a holistic view that connects past, present and future, and all manners of being: animal, vegetal and mineral.

The Crossed Rose then, symbolizes The Blood Of The Witch, in it's capacity to carry wisdom over generations, aswell as across different states of being. This is the Center of my practice.

[coinandcandle]

Hello there! I was wondering, do you happen to have any resources on Italian folk magic or witchcraft? I am a baby witch of Italian heritage and have been trying to reconnect with some of my family’s old practices, but finding information is surprisingly difficult or ends up dipping into Roman paganism which I’m not sure is the same thing or not. Thank you!

I am also of Italian heritage and it has been a struggle to find anything on Italian folk magic that isn't just Wicca with parmesan sprinkled on it!!

I will say that Raven Grimassi has been quoted often for Italian witchcraft but from what I know he just sorta created his own thing (or based it on personal beliefs) and marketed that as traditional Italian witchcraft.

A lot of Italian folk magic is going to involve Christianity, so be prepared for that. It is also going to be reminiscent of roman paganism because that's just how culture works; it melds together over time and the religions and beliefs of the past never fully disappear.

I would look into Italian cunningfolk/folk healers as well as Italian folk medicine and folklore. Also, try to contact people who practice Italian folk magic.

I'm part of a discord server dedicated to folk magic of all sorts called the Woodland Folk server and here are some of the resources they have about Italian folklore:

kitchenofmae's Helpful Tips & Resource Reccomendations for Italian Folk Magic

They also have a downloadable pdf of Mary-Grace Fahrun's Italian Folk Magic: Rue's Kitchen Witchery and The Tradition of Segnature. Underground Indigenous Practices in Italy

If you practice or know someone who practices Italian folk magic please link your/their accounts!

[thelonecalzone]

The Unaired Two-Page Conversation

I think we're past the point of possible spoilers, so as promised: the 2pg book conversation that was cut for time (and realism). Originally, I was experimenting with "unsent" books as part of the conversations, but I thought it would ultimately be too confusing and opted not to use that, so anything you see with a strikethrough is an "unsent" book.

(If this text formatting is ultra zany and hard to read, someone please tell me and I'll make it more regular. Allison is Blue, Patty is Red... for reasons... 🫠)

Allison: It’s Lonely at the Center of the Earth, by Zoe Thorogood

Patty: Not Here, by Hieu Minh Nguyen

Allison: Tell Me Everything, by Minka Kelly

Patty: Daily Rituals, by Phoebe Garnsworthy

Patty: Drinking Coffee Elsewhere, ZZ Packer

Patty: Crime, by Irvine Welsh

Allison: Without Me? by Chelle Bliss

Allison: Exciting Times, by Naoise Dolan

Patty: Not Without You, by Harriet Evans

Patty: The Page Turner, by David Leavitt

Allison: I Got a Job and It Wasn’t That Bad, by Scott Dikkers

Patty: Really Moving On, by Pierre Jeanty

Patty: What Kind of Job Can a Monkey Do? by Sato Akira

Allison: Hey Rick! Don’t Be So Rude! by Alyssa Thompson

Patty: I Like Monkeys, by Peter Hansard

Allison: So You Like Me Too, by OPR

Patty: The Miseducation of Cameron Post, by Emily M. Danforth

Allison: Just Say Yes, by Niobia Bryant

Patty: Yes, Chef, by Marcus Samuelsson

Patty: Get to the Point, by Joel Schwartzberg

Allison: I Miss You, by Pat Thomas

Allison: Without You, by Saskia Sarginson

Allison: You’re, by Keisha Ervin

Allison: I Got My Dream Job and So Can You, by Pete Leibman 

Patty: Super Spy, by Matt Kindt

Allison: The Librarian Spy, by Madeline Martin

Patty: For the Love of Books, by Graham Tarrant

Allison: Reminds Me of You, by Retno Handini

Allison: For the Thrill of It, by Simon Baatz

Patty: Run Towards the Danger, by Sarah Polley

Allison: Risking it All, by Tessa Bailey

Patty: Risk (With Me), by Sue Wilder

Patty: Ambitious Girl, by Meena Harris

Allison: Yeah, Right, by Jim and Helen Fox

Patty: The Follow-Through Factor: Getting from Doubt to Done, by Gene C. Hayden

Allison: A Stroke of Dumb Luck, by Shiloh Walker

Patty: Credit Where Credit is Due, by Frank Casey

Allison: Optimists Die First, by Susin Neilsen

Patty: The Price of Immortality, by Peter Ward

Allison: Death Visits the Hair Salon, by Amy Anderson

Patty: Murder in the Library, by Katie Gayle

Allison: Sounds Like Fun, by Bryan Moriarty

Patty: I Have More Fun With You Than Anybody, by Lige Clark

Patty: Certifiably Insane, by Arthur W. Bahr

Allison: Charming as a Verb, by Ben Philippe

Patty: How Do You Manage? by John Nicholson

Allison: Liquor, by Poppy Z. Brite

Patty: Hardly Know Her, by Laura Lippman

Allison: Don’t Be Gross, by Barbara Bakos

Patty: It’s Just Anatomy! by Ellen

Allison: Rough Transition, by Patrick Kelley

Patty: Some Girls Like it Rough, by Marlo Peterson

Allison: What Sort of Girls Were They? by Petrea Leslie

Patty: Girls with Bright Futures, by Tracy Dobmeier

Allison: I’m a Little Ghost and I Like the Dark, by Lynda Kimmel

Patty: Dark As the Grave Wherein My Friend Is Laid, by Malcolm Lowrey

Allison: Murder in the Dark, by Simon R. Green

Patty: My Job Was To Bring The Shovel, by Randall M. Rueff

Allison: The Complete Accomplice, by Steve Aylett

Patty: The Magician’s Assistant, by Ann Patchett

Allison: The Witch’s Familiar, by Raven Grimassi

Patty: Witch Minion, by Lissa Kasey

Allison: These Witches Don’t Burn, by Isabel Sterling

Patty: The Drowning Kind, by Jennifer McMahon

Allison: A Touch Morbid, by Leah Clifford

Patty: Lucy Clark Will Not Apologize, by Margo Rabb

Allison: I Wonder What She’s Doing Tonight, by James Hold

Patty: Whiskey, Words, and a Shovel, by R. H. Sin

Allison: Sounds Perfect, by Ashley Boren

Patty: How I Made a Friend, Daniel Georges

Allison: Good For You (Between the Lines), by Tammara Webber

Patty: We’re Very Good Friends, by P.K. Hallinan

Allison: Sounds Fake, But Okay, by Sarah Costello

Patty: What If It’s True? by Charles Martin

Allison: What If It Wasn’t? by Ivan Itch

Patty: Why Do You Care? by Saju Skaria

Allison: I’m Fine and Neither Are You, by Camille Pagán

Allison: The Replacement Part, by Nora Wylde

Patty: Just a Friend, by Ashley Nicole

Allison: How to Kill Your Best Friend, by Lexie Elliott

Patty: You’re All Just Jealous of My Jetpack, by Tom Gauld

Allison: Dead Jealous, by Sharon Jones

Patty: You’ve Got to Have Friends, by Delbert George Fitzpenfield Anthony

Allison: Everything I Need I Get From You, by Kaitlyn Tiffany

Allison: Among Other Things, by Robert Long Foreman

Allison: Truths I Learned from Sam, ​​by Kristin Butcher

Patty: The Idiot King, by Patty Jansen

Allison: He Helped Me Climb the Mountain, by Betty E. Wright

Patty: The Man Who Pushed His Wife off a Cliff, by Will D. Burn

Patty: Men are Trash, by Salman Faris 

Patty: And That’s Why I Think I Prefer A Rainbow Horse, by Tiarra Nazario

Patty: Sam Houston’s Wife, by William Seale

Allison: What About Her, by Emma Tharpe

Patty: Amelia Bedelia Sleeps Over, by Herman Parish

Patty: The Undead in my Bed, by Katie McAlister

Allison: Sleeping with the Enemy, by Nancy Price

Allison: How Could You Do That?! by Laura Schlessinger

Allison: How Could You Murder Us? by Charae Lewis

Allison: Why Her? by Nicki Koziarz

Allison: I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me, by Jerold J. Kreisman

Patty: I Was Joking, Of Course, by Paul Jennings

Allison: Liar, by Tate James

Patty: What if I Say the Wrong Thing? by Verna A Myers

Allison: Don’t Look Back, by Josh Lanyon

Patty: Come Back, by Sally Crosiar

Patty: SHIT, by Shahnon Ahmad

Patty: Barbie: It Takes Two, by Grace Baranowski

Allison: I Changed My Mind, by Jimmy Evans

Allison: Allison Hewitt Is Trapped, by Madeleine Roux

Patty: Are You Still There, by Sara Lynn Schreeger

Patty: Wait for Me, by Caroline Leech

Allison: Look Back, by Tatsuki Fujimoto

[traegorn]

What do you know about Raven Grimassi? I came across some of his books while doing research today, and am curious if you have an opinion on him.

I honestly haven't read Grimassi, but I know he backed the witch cult hypothesis and treated Aradia as factual... so...

His stuff really appears to be Italian flavored Wicca. And there are better sources for Wicca and probably better sources for Italian witchcraft.

@magpiewitchery might have more thoughts though

[cygnus-cypres777]

"We are the possibilities and the unshattered dream, we are what gives life magick." - Raven Grimassi

[windvexer]

What do you know about Raven Grimassi? I came across some of his books while doing research today, and am curious if you have an opinion on him.

We do not currently discuss books or authors.

[stregheria-blood]

Crafting a Personalized Wiccan Solitary Practice

MA WICCA EST UN DIAMANT CONTENANT TOUTES LES FACETTES DE L'EXISTENCE

Je voudrais créer une Wicca Solitaire basée sur le duothéisme Cernunnos-Habundia, et y inclure des éléments de la stregha de grimassi. Peux-tu me faciliter la tâche ?

Fondement duothéiste :

Centrez votre pratique autour de Cernunnos (le Dieu Cornu) et Habundia (une Déesse de la nature).

Étudiez les mythologies et symboles associés à ces divinités pour approfondir votre connexion.

Éléments de la Stregheria :

Intégrez des aspects de la tradition italienne, comme décrite par Raven Grimassi.

Incorporez des rituels saisonniers basés sur la Roue de l'Année streghienne.

Pratiques rituelles :

Créez un autel personnel dédié à Cernunnos et Habundia.

Développez des rituels pour les sabbats et esbats qui honorent ces divinités.

Utilisez des herbes et plantes sacrées dans vos rituels, en vous inspirant des traditions Wicca et Stregheria.

Magie et sorts :

Adaptez des sorts Wicca traditionnels pour qu'ils correspondent à votre duo divin.

Intégrez des pratiques magiques de la Stregheria, comme l'utilisation de la "strega wheel".

Méditation et connexion spirituelle :

Pratiquez des méditations guidées pour vous connecter à Cernunnos et Habundia.

Explorez des techniques de transe pour approfondir votre lien spirituel.

Éthique et philosophie :

Adaptez la Rede Wiccan et la Loi du Triple Retour à votre pratique personnelle.

Intégrez les principes éthiques de la Stregheria qui résonnent avec vous.

Outils et symboles :

Choisissez des outils rituels qui représentent vos divinités et votre pratique unique.

Créez ou adoptez des symboles personnels pour Cernunnos et Habundia.

[dark-ethereal-visions]

Book Excerpt: Testament

From the time I was a teenager, I was fascinated with the history of witchcraft in England and its emergence in the early colonies of the future United States. Like many people, my interest in this topic began with learning about the Salem Witch Trials in the early 1690s. Around the same time, I took an interest in learning about the practice of witchcraft itself. I taught myself about traditional witchcraft, Gardnerian wicca, and Italian hereditary witchcraft. I was especially fascinated with the lore of Aradia, known to Italians as the Queen of the Witches. I read books from such well-known authors as Raymond Buckland, Raven Silverwolf, Raven Grimassi, Charles Leland, and many others.

Eventually, I began to wonder if other British colonies in North America suffered a similar witchcraft hysteria. I found that New York, previously known as New Amsterdam, also had a brief witch problem. Similar to Salem, this witch hysteria was motivated by politics and land grabs. There’s very little information regarding the specific details of New York witchcraft cases. I used what details I could find to help me write this book as close to reality as possible. For the rest, I used my imagination.

In this excerpt, Singent Straubb shares the experience of his first day on the job as an apprentice magistrate. In my opinion, this is the most important section of the entire book since it shares Singent’s first impressions of his employer, Magistrate Jacob de Heart, and his fellow co-workers, Blackburn and Sterling.

Journal of Singent Straubb

3d day of August, 1665

     It is late in the evening, very late to judge by the fact that mine is the only illuminated window on the street, and I have only just returned home. I would very much like to retire and put this day to an end, but I must record the events of the day now whilst the details are still fresh in my mind. Where ever shall I begin? I suppose it's best to relate the day in its entirety and, once that has all been recorded, I shall better be able to express my feelings, those emotions swimming around in my head that would keep me from unconsciousness even if I were to retire right at this very moment. Speaking of sleep, I slumbered very little last night and I suppose that's just the way of it for anyone about to realize their dream with the next sunrise; I was awake and out of bed long before my father. Hoping to make an exceptionally good first impression, I bathed thoroughly with a sponge and some lye before dressing in my best Sunday suit. I remember thinking to myself as I prepared for the day that my first week's pay must be spent on new clothes and better toiletries. An officer of the courts should certainly be far more presentable than the average citizen. He should be a physical manifestation of the highest principles of law, or so I'd imagined in my dreamy mind.

     By the time father was up and preparing for his own day, I was ready and anxious to head out the door to begin my very first day of apprenticeship. It was all he could do to get me to sit down at the breakfast table for a mere five minutes, but I did concede, not wishing to disrespect him so soon after he'd agreed to allow me to pursue this dream of mine. As soon as he placed the fresh milk, steaming eggs, and toasted bread in front of me, my empty belly reminded me that I'd neglected one of the most important morning duties in my excitement. As I ate the prepared meal with enthusiasm, he spoke softly, kindly to me.

     “Son, you are about to go out into the world to make your mark as a man and nothing could fill me with more pride.”

     I glanced up at him briefly before I gulped down half of the glass of milk. He must have read my thoughts in my expression because he continued:

     “Perhaps this isn't the profession I would have chosen for you, but I am proud of you, nonetheless.”

     “Thank you, father.”

     His benevolent smile, which has very rarely made an appearance in our household since mother's passing, graced his moustache-shrouded lips. “I have every confidence that you will become the fine hard-working and upstanding gentleman that your mother and I have dreamt you would be.”

     “I will strive to never disappoint you or to tarnish mother's memory.”

     He smiled once more. As that smile faded, he produced his pocket watch and presented it for me to view as he said in mock alarm, “Now go! You mustn't be late on your very first day!”

     I was the first to arrive at the courthouse, yet it wasn't long before I was greeted by those same men that had detained my father this past Sunday. They looked mismatched in their fine suits here as I had a better opportunity to see them than I had had outside of the church. The more outspoken of the men introduced himself as Mr. Blackburn. He was easily a foot shorter than his associate, Mr. Sterling, and bigger, bulkier than both Mr. Sterling and myself put together. He wasn't fat though. Far from it. He was solid muscle from head to toe and so fit, in fact, that when he walked, no part of him jiggled with the flabby flesh of obesity. He was bald, which I think added to the menacing, overbearing appearance of the man.

     His pale eyes, more the color of a stormy sky than that of a clear ocean, pierced through me in such a way that an icy shiver ran up my spine. His bulbous nose was crooked with crude knots spread along the ridge; it had clearly been broken more than once throughout his life. Also worth noting is the condition of his overgrown hands, which I'd had ample opportunity to observe during our handshake. His hands were harsh. I don't think there is a gentle bone in the man's entire body and, if not for his brutish demeanor, I am certain most would think him little more than a clumsy oaf. The skin was rough as one might expect of a man that had spent a lifetime engaged in hard labor. The knuckles on each hand were red as though the skin had been battered with repeated abuse and they were as scarred as they were discolored. Tiny yet noticeable nicks, scrapes, and abrasions marred his fists in such a way that he could only have obtained such scars from a lifetime spent in a boxing ring or in street brawls.

     In some ways, Mr. Sterling was as different from Mr. Blackburn as night from day, yet he seemed just as menacing and as brutal in his own way. He was more than six feet tall, standing, as I've already mentioned, a foot taller than Blackburn. It was nearly impossible to estimate his true height because his lanky body was slouched and, when he was viewed from either side, it seemed that his prominent spine was permanently curved. I remember noticing this, disturbed by just how visible that column of bony ridges appeared beneath a thin layer of skin and clothing. I thought to myself that such a condition was sure to cause problems as he aged into his later years. Lacking the muscle mass of Blackburn, he was as slim as he was tall. His sleek, black hair was trimmed short and I found his emerald eyes to be most misleading as they lent to the impression of a warm, gentle heart even though they were set in that unwavering stoical face. His nose had clearly never been broken, judging by the manner in which the perfectly straight bridge sloped downward. It seemed as though that sloped nose overhung past his thin lips, though I'm sure that was just an illusion created by the dwarfed angle at which I looked up at him. Multiple scars mapped his face from forehead to chin and the depth and length of each marking suggested that they had been left there by sharp blades of knives or swords. The wounds had obviously healed without the benefit of proper medical treatment as the skin had folded over itself and had left more pronounced scars than what should have been formed. Another clue that Sterling was no stranger to knives came when he reached forward to shake my hand. Chance, in the guise of a temperate breeze, blew his jacket open as he extended his right arm in camaraderie, revealing a sheathed bowie knife secured to his leather belt. It was only then, when he'd observed the recognition of the weapon in my own eyes, that those unwaveringly stern lips formed a smile.

     These were not nice men and, to be perfectly honest, keeping their company stirred within me feelings of uneasiness, disquietude. I was only too happy to agree when they, at length, suggested escorting me to the magistrate's office.

     I felt, as we entered the courthouse, that I was finally going to meet a true legal professional and, better still, I was going to take my rightful place at his side. One can imagine, then, the dismay I felt upon walking  into Magistrate de Heart's office and finding him in a state of disarray...to be very polite about it. The office, as one might expect of a newly erected and recently occupied government building, was sparsely decorated with only a single portrait of His Majesty, Charles II, adorning the cream colored walls. In the center of the room sat a massive desk, hand-carved  of oak and heavily varnished. Behind that desk, the magistrate sat in a plush, leather chair, which looked more like a throne than a chair suited to a government employee. Papers were scattered across his desk to his left and to his right, but, directly in front of him, there sat a silver serving tray with a half-eaten pig sprawled across its breadth.

     As we entered the office following a brief knock, the man behind the desk was passionately devouring one of the sow's legs, his full lips dribbling with grease and slobbering over the meat just as he might slobber over a lover's lips. The sounds of him suckling at his feast, pulling the grease down his greedy gullet, and the noise of his moist lips smacking together as he chewed echoed throughout the chamber. In between bites, he waved an arm toward one of the three vacant seats facing him and motioned for me to join him. As I drew closer, I could see the sweat beading upon his brow; his hairline was so far receded that he may as well have been bald. Although he wore a makeshift paper bib, his black robe was stained with pig grease where the bib could not protect him. Blackburn and Sterling had remained stationed at the door as though they had been assigned to guard the magistrate. Jacob de Heart picked up and dropped the serving tray, urging the men forward with a chubby, grease-soaked hand.

     “Get this slop out of here!”

    Sterling removed the tray as Blackburn used a fresh rag to help the magistrate clean himself.

    “Forgive me, but I had not had the chance to breakfast this morning, thanks in no small measure to my bothersome wife.”

     “I understand, Magistrate.”

     “You are my new apprentice. Are you not?”

     “Yes, sir,” I replied with the utmost zeal. “Singent Straubb, with two B's.”

      “Well, Singent Straubb with two B's, how much do you know of this court and your position herein?”

     “My father, upon informing me of the position, had very little information for me. I do know, through my own researches, that the Court of Assizes is here established only recently and that its purpose is as ecclesiastical as it is legal.”

     “Come again?”

     “Oh...Well, sir, it's my understanding that this court's function is to investigate and try instances of witchcraft and heresy. Is that not so?”

     Magistrate de Heart nodded. “It is. As well, English law, under which we must operate, demands that the accused be tried by two magistrates. The truth of the matter, Straubb, is that His Majesty couldn't be bothered with the day to day workings of these colonies. He is aware, as are we all, that, for the most part, a great many of the colonists are tax evaders, criminals...undesirables. He does, however, expect English law to be strictly enforced.”

     Magistrate de Heart glanced up at Blackburn and Sterling ever so briefly as he'd uttered those last two words. I took the exchange to mean there had been disciplinary problems with the men in recent history.

     “It is this contradiction that has led His Majesty to insist upon these trials without having provided for the necessary regulations. As it is becoming more troublesome to find established magistrates willing to come to these abhorrent colonies, I have taken it upon myself to retain an apprentice magistrate. That is you, boy.”

     “I understand. I am most eager to begin.”

     "What know you of English law?”

     “Everything!”

     “Everything?” The magistrate's robust laughter was so deafening in the small chamber that it was nearly impossible to hear Blackburn and Sterling chuckling from behind.

     “What I mean to say, sir, is that I have been studying the law since I was a small boy. I am familiar with most principles and procedures.”

     “And the witchcraft laws? Are you equally familiar with them?”

     “No, sir. I must confess that I am not.”

     “I would be very much surprised if you were as there are none.”

     “Sir?”

     “Don't misunderstand me, boy. There are regulations for the establishment of this tribunal, but much of what we do will be governed by the actions of the Dutch in their recent trials.”

     “I see.”

     “And do you still feel up to this task?”

     “I do, sir.”

     “Time will tell, boy.” The magistrate arose from his chair with no small measure of struggle and the chair itself creaked and groaned with relief upon being unburdened of his massive weight. Drawing the handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the remaining pig grease from his lips and jowls. “We have a guest awaiting our attention.”

     “A guest, Magistrate?”

     I arose as well, turning in time to see this 50-something year old minister of justice glance at his fellows, both of whom had maintained their positions at the door. The magistrate's grin at these two men left me with an uneasy feeling for what reason I could not fathom. Though I momentarily felt foolish for being so suspicious of my employer, the ensuing chuckles of Blackburn and Sterling once again set the hairs upon my neck prickling afresh. I tried reminding myself that I knew nothing of these men -for good or for ill- and that they all were, as a matter of fact, officers of a most high court. Yet, I still could not shake the wariness I felt in their presence. I told myself that it would be quite foolhardy to act or even to speak upon these suspicions, but, as I am generally a good judge of character, I had determined to observe these men with a cautious eye until my suspicions were either confirmed or disproved. My thoughts were interrupted when the magistrate spoke to me upon leading our party from the office.

     “Our guest, Straubb, is a neger slave by the name of Tiekka, accused of heresy and of the practice of voodoo.”

     “May I know the details of this case?”

     “Here.” He handed me a stack of neatly arranged papers, each page filled with the writings of a female hand to be judged by the bubbly beatific cursive known to be most common amongst women. “The statement of Tiekka's employer and only friend in all of this great colony.”

To buy your copy of Testament today, follow these links:

Paperback

Kindle

Nook