2. "Follow me," the Abbess said curtly, turning on her heel and setting off down a corridor and into what I took to be her inner sanctum, a modest-sized room with a high-vaulted ceiling. She settled herself behind a table holding some papers, an open book and a candle, then bent her head in mumbled prayer.
I waited patiently, rocking back and forth on my heels, and looking about as the old woman droned on. The room was spartanly furnished. In addition to her chair and desk, there was a low bed with a chamber pot beneath it, and a tall wardrobe, the doors of which were open to reveal, much to my surprise, not only a few gowns and vestments but a full array of whips and canes. Bolted to the stone wall on the other side of the room was a pair of iron chains and shackles … there is apparently a dark side to convent life that I was unaware of, I thought to myself.
I turned back to her and was startled to see that she had stopped praying and was staring intently at me. I felt as though her gaze cut right through me like a knife. It was both eerie and frightening.
"As I said," she began, her voice a hoarse whisper, "Your reputation precedes you Barbara. You are said to be of a rebellious and disrespectful nature. The life of a novice here at St. Cruxton is one of humility, obedience and devotion. If you are truly to become one of us, we shall have to beat the devil and all his nefarious ways out of you. Do you understand that, my girl?"
I considered my answer carefully. To say yes could mean unforeseen horrors at the hands of this perverted woman and her flock, but to say no meant quite possibly a death sentence at the hands of the town's overzealous witch-hunting magistrates. I didn’t fancy roasting at the stake in front of the whole town, so I decided to take my chances as a novice. Bowing my head reverently I said "yes, Abbess, I understand."
With a trace of a smile, or was it something else, she said, "Good. By the grace of God and the heavenly hosts, it shall be. You will become a novice at St. Cruxton and I believe you will be perfect for the Competition."
Puzzled, I replied, "Competition? What do you mean?"
"Ah, my dear, a novice does not question. Obedience, dear Barbara, obedience!"
She rose from her chair, circled round past me to the door and pulled a cord on the wall which rang a bell. "Sister Hilda will see to you now my dear."
Moments later Hilda appeared. I recognized her immediately as the same heavy-set nun I had seen whipping the young novice in the chapel, although now she was fully dressed. She beckoned to me with a curl of her forefinger and I followed her down one corridor and then another.
At the end of the second, we stopped and stepped aside to allow a pair of sisters to pass, supporting between them the limp half-naked figure of the young fair-haired novice whom I had just seen brutally whipped. I gawked, hand fluttering to my chest. But Hilda took me by the arm to hurry me along. As we scurried away I craned my neck to look back and see where they were taking the girl. I tried to catch her eye as she disappeared around a corner, but the poor thing just stared back with a glazed look.
Then Hilda suddenly stopped dead, pulled out a ring of keys, stooped down and unlocked a small wooden door, which swung open with a creak and a groan.
"Your quarters," said Hilda with a short bow and an exaggerated flourish.
I stooped under the low opening and stepped into a tiny white-washed room furnished with little more than a narrow bed against one wall, a chamber pot under the bed and a crucifix overhead. On the wall across from the bed was fastened a pair of wrist irons and chains like those I had seen in the Abbess' quarters. The room was cold and the air smelled musty.
"Here is the shift you will wear as a novice," Hilda said curtly, as she tossed a very brief little brown woolen garment on the bed, and used the lit candle she had been carrying to light another that sat on a small ledge above the bed.
"Now strip, and be quick about it!" she hissed.
"But, why? Now? Here In front of you?"
"Don't ask impertinent questions child!" she snarled, "Just do as you are told."
Slowly I began removing my clothing, piece by piece, until I stood naked before her in the flickering candle light, shyly covering my breasts and crotch with my arms and hands. She looked on during the whole disrobing with obvious interest.
"Now! over there! Face the wall and raise your arms!" she ordered, reaching out to roughly spin me about and give me a little shove in the right direction.
I did as I was told. She followed, reached up over me, the long flowing sleeves of her habit nearly covering my head, and deftly secured the pair of irons to my wrists.
There I was, arms over head, facing the stone wall, which felt freezing cold against my bare breasts and belly. I shivered and said, "You aren't going to leave me here like this, are you? It's cold. May I please have something to wear? I am hungry too. May I have something to eat?"
"Be silent now!"
"But ....."
Before I could say another word, she struck me across my bare back with a heavy leather strap she produced from somewhere under her robes. Owwww," I yelled, my body slamming against the cold hardness of the wall. Then she followed up with half a dozen more. I screamed and danced with each vicious stroke, rattling my chains, shaking my head, and tossing my hair. Then she quit.
With my backside feeling like it was on fire from the stinging impacts of the strap, I turned my head toward her, tears in my eyes, irons chafing my wrists, intending to beg for mercy.
But she grabbed me by the chin, glared into my face and said, "With this your training begins. The first thing you must learn is humility. You will spend the night chained to the wall. I will be back for you in the morning."
She laughed to herself … a most unsettling laugh, almost a cackle, then strode away and slammed the door. The last sounds I heard, other than my labored breathing and pitiful sobs, were the rattling of the key as it turned the lock and Hilda's retreating footsteps on the corridor paving stones.
On the wall, the candle light cast my shadow ... stretched out, naked and helpless, the feminine contours of my body passing into and out of focus in the flickering light.
TO BE CONTINUED
Bridget had a bent for style, didn't she?
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