It was her duty to her family and she would do it, willingly or unwillingly, it mattered none which. Besides, who would be so selfish as to deny her entire family a place in Heaven for all time, just to satisfy her own physical comforts? She had never once complained.
Elizabeth almost snorted aloud scornfully, but caught herself at the last second. Doing so would earn her a cold night of prayer on the chapel floor, or five lashes from the abbess. There would be extra chores as punishment, too, above and beyond the ten or twelve hours per day she spent as the convent’s laundress. Everyone in the self sustaining community had a job, and Elizabeth had blessed the abbey with her auspicious arrival just a few days after the death of the old washerwoman. Her fate had been sealed.
Choking down a bite of the food, if it could be called that, she looked around at the other nuns. All were noble women, like her, from wealthy, titled families. Each and every one accepted their lot at the priory, unquestioningly, as the command of God, and even submitted to the discomfort and humiliation of living lower than serfs as the Lord’s will.
Young as she was, most of the nuns were older than she, but a few were even younger. She tried to be kind to the new girls when they arrived, recalling the fear and anger she herself had felt when she had been delivered to the place, but human interaction was almost impossible. Between the tedious periods of prayer, arduous hours of work and precious few moments of cold, uncomfortable sleep, there was little time left even to smile at the newcomers. Plus, smiling was forbidden. So was sharing food or assisting with chores. All she could do was squeeze their hand covertly when silent tears tumbled down their cheeks.
Elizabeth, like all the others, had taken a vow of silence, obedience and chastity upon entering the convent. It didn’t matter that it had been involuntary, nor that she had been a child. All speech, indeed communication in any form - even the inadvertent emission of a bodily function - was strictly forbidden at the priory.
Elizabeth wondered if God truly wished her to live like this, or if he had something else in mind for her destiny.
She hadn’t even heard the sound of a human voice for more than five years.
That was about to change.
Chapter Two
I t all happened in slow motion, the day that altered Elizabeth’s future forever. Outside, the summer sky turned ominously dark. The birds went silent. Thunder rumbled with malice on the horizon. Tension hung tangibly in the air, thick and oppressive. The abbess stood up, to bar the wooden shutters against the impending storm, but instead she swore, and dropped the earthenware pitcher she was carrying. It went crashing to the floor into a million broken bits. The double doors of the dining hall slammed open.
An army of terrifying foreigners spilled into the dining hall.
The unfamiliar cadence of heavy, booted feet pounded into the room. The tranquil silence of the morning was pierced by the shrill ring of swords being drawn. The very scent of the air changed as the peaceful convent was suddenly packed with sweaty, lusty, bloodthirsty barbarians. Their meaty fists beat upon their shields threateningly, while their mouths bellowed rhythmic, primeval battle chants to terrorize the helpless women.
For a split second, the sound of human voices was almost a welcome break in the spirit-crushing monotony of life in the abbey.
But only for a second. Instantly, the big, horrifying men filled every corner of the room, dressed in bizarre pants made of leather, fleece and fur. White bear-skin mantles flanked their mammoth shoulders, while cords of tusks and claws hung from their necks. Some of their chests were bare except for peculiar, black markings carved into their flesh. A few even had the ebony etchings on their faces, and carried deadly crossbows on their backs. Others wore leather vests fortified with metal plates or chain mail. Every
Elizabeth almost snorted aloud scornfully, but caught herself at the last second. Doing so would earn her a cold night of prayer on the chapel floor, or five lashes from the abbess. There would be extra chores as punishment, too, above and beyond the ten or twelve hours per day she spent as the convent’s laundress. Everyone in the self sustaining community had a job, and Elizabeth had blessed the abbey with her auspicious arrival just a few days after the death of the old washerwoman. Her fate had been sealed.
Choking down a bite of the food, if it could be called that, she looked around at the other nuns. All were noble women, like her, from wealthy, titled families. Each and every one accepted their lot at the priory, unquestioningly, as the command of God, and even submitted to the discomfort and humiliation of living lower than serfs as the Lord’s will.
Young as she was, most of the nuns were older than she, but a few were even younger. She tried to be kind to the new girls when they arrived, recalling the fear and anger she herself had felt when she had been delivered to the place, but human interaction was almost impossible. Between the tedious periods of prayer, arduous hours of work and precious few moments of cold, uncomfortable sleep, there was little time left even to smile at the newcomers. Plus, smiling was forbidden. So was sharing food or assisting with chores. All she could do was squeeze their hand covertly when silent tears tumbled down their cheeks.
Elizabeth, like all the others, had taken a vow of silence, obedience and chastity upon entering the convent. It didn’t matter that it had been involuntary, nor that she had been a child. All speech, indeed communication in any form - even the inadvertent emission of a bodily function - was strictly forbidden at the priory.
Elizabeth wondered if God truly wished her to live like this, or if he had something else in mind for her destiny.
She hadn’t even heard the sound of a human voice for more than five years.
That was about to change.
Chapter Two
I t all happened in slow motion, the day that altered Elizabeth’s future forever. Outside, the summer sky turned ominously dark. The birds went silent. Thunder rumbled with malice on the horizon. Tension hung tangibly in the air, thick and oppressive. The abbess stood up, to bar the wooden shutters against the impending storm, but instead she swore, and dropped the earthenware pitcher she was carrying. It went crashing to the floor into a million broken bits. The double doors of the dining hall slammed open.
An army of terrifying foreigners spilled into the dining hall.
The unfamiliar cadence of heavy, booted feet pounded into the room. The tranquil silence of the morning was pierced by the shrill ring of swords being drawn. The very scent of the air changed as the peaceful convent was suddenly packed with sweaty, lusty, bloodthirsty barbarians. Their meaty fists beat upon their shields threateningly, while their mouths bellowed rhythmic, primeval battle chants to terrorize the helpless women.
For a split second, the sound of human voices was almost a welcome break in the spirit-crushing monotony of life in the abbey.
But only for a second. Instantly, the big, horrifying men filled every corner of the room, dressed in bizarre pants made of leather, fleece and fur. White bear-skin mantles flanked their mammoth shoulders, while cords of tusks and claws hung from their necks. Some of their chests were bare except for peculiar, black markings carved into their flesh. A few even had the ebony etchings on their faces, and carried deadly crossbows on their backs. Others wore leather vests fortified with metal plates or chain mail. Every
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