Isobel Ch. 02

Isobel sat on her bed, Ysenda at her side. She still wore the kirtle. The fragrance of the scented oils on her body filling the small room. They had sat in silence on their return. Isobel looked at her hands in her lap and sighed

"I am bewitched," she said softly.

Ysenda took her hand,

"You had no choice Isobel," she said and reached up to stroke Isobel's hair.

"Just as I have no choice. The only choice we both have is to accept and find a way to be at peace with what comes to pass."

"But I believe I am bewitched," Isobel repeated.

"I am here so that my father and family may profit. To that end, I must obey my masters without question."

Isobel looked up at Ysenda and reached softly for the hand that caressed her hair.

"But that does not explain the feelings that I had when ....when I was purified." Isobel hastily looked downward again.

"Nor does it explain how the Abbess could calm me and help me to accept what happened tonight. I cannot explain it, but it was if she was a part of me."

There was silence then Isobel looked at Ysenda again.

"But what spell has been cast that you have to obey, could you not just leave?"

A shadow crossed Ysenda's face and a fleeting look of fear.

"I came here as penance for my sins. To return to my village and the people that banished me, would be to return to certain death."

"Or worse."

Isobel wanted to question her but Ysenda's look forbade it.

Eventually, Ysenda left, telling Isobel that she would show her their duties in the morning after they had broke their fast and Ysenda had attended Morning Prayer.

Isobel took to her bed still wearing the kirtle and pulled the woolen blanket over her. Suddenly she was as tired as she had ever been and fell into a deep sleep.

She dreamed vividly.

In the dream, she lay on her bed but the room seemed expanded and adjoined the Abbess' chambers. She could see through her door the fire burning and felt warmed by it.

Candles lit both rooms but there was still darkness in their corners.

She noticed a Cross adorning the wall, bathed in the light of a candle close by. It was perhaps twelve inches in height and was of a design that Isobel had not seen before. It was of highly polished hard wood and rounded at the ends, unlike the squared Celtic cross she was familiar with.

Then the Abbess appeared at the door.

She was dressed for bed. She wore a kirtle and, though Isobel did not know it, it was made of silk.

It seemed to shimmer.

Isobel had not seen any material of its like.

Nor had any other mortal in the western world, for the material had been bought at great expense from a land beyond the limit of their knowledge.

The Abbess' hair was braided and she was bare foot. In her hand was a candle in a simple wooden holder. Her face seemed to glow in its light.

She smiled and entered the room and sat at the end of Isobel's bed

"You have many questions my child," she said softly.

"Though tonight you performed your duties without question. You have done well."

Isobel felt the warmth of her praise and basked in it as if it were the radiance of the fire.

"I will permit you three questions, though whether I choose to answer......we shall see," the Abbess smiled.

In the dream, Isobel raised herself in the bed. Her room seemed to fade to darkness and only the Abbess' face and the golden light of the candle remained.

After a silence, Isobel asked her first question and knew not why.

"Why did you come to Duart Your Reverence?"

The Abbess responded after a moment's consideration:

"I came here to learn and I came here to hide."

In the dream, Isobel felt frustration. She wanted to explore the reply but not waste her second question. But as she spoke she realised that again, her second question came unbidden.

"Are you really Hilda Your Reverence?"

The pause was longer this time and the Abbess' gaze at Isobel seemed to be weighing her. Isobel felt fear as the Abbess seemed to search the recesses of her mind.

Eventually the Abbess replied.

"Hilda travelled across Christendom to take her position here."

The voice was soft, her gaze never leaving Isobel.

"She came from a land called Silesia and we met in a great forest as her journey neared its end. I lived there and had all but forgotten the dealings of men. But, the world is becoming smaller. Tracks were cut through the forest and I learned of the fights and squabbles as one chieftain defeated another.

And I learned of the Christian religion."

Isobel stared in to the bottomless depths of the Abbess' eyes and saw a shadow of sorrow.

"And soon I learned that Christians searched the land for unbelievers to punish them with death."

Isobel felt the Abbess' sorrow and a feeling of something passing never to return.

"And they would punish me," the Abbess laughed softly.

Isobel's mind raced with questions.

"What happened to Hilda Your Reverence?" she said finally.

The Abbess' face seemed to slowly retreat from the candlelight and the light itself started to fade.

"And that is your third question Isobel." There was a soft laugh and a pause.

"Hilda acquainted me with the ways of her order and Christendom."

Isobel could now only see the glittering bottomless eyes.

"And now Hilda lies in the forest, in communion with her God for ever after. She served the purpose of teaching me her ways"

The eyes were specs of light and seemed far away.

"I can assure you Isobel that I was an attentive pupil."

Suddenly all was darkness.

——————————————————————————————————————

Isobel woke to shafts of grey light finding their way through the wooden shutter, highlighting the dust dancing in the air.

She remembered the dream and felt a stab of fear. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, fear was replaced by anxiety at what the day would bring.

There were the ordinary tasks that a servant would undertake, she was sure.

But then there were the remaining tests.

There was a knock on the door and she turned, glancing at the small table.

On it was a candle in a simple wooden holder.

Ysenda entered to see Isobel transfixed, staring at the candle.

Ysenda had taken her fear as trepidation and Isobel was not to be drawn on how she felt, despite Ysenda's entreaties.

Ysenda became business like.

"I will show you your duties starting with the kitchens and the stabling."

Isobel's attention seemed to return,

"Then the Abbess has instructed that you take confession."

"Confession?" Isobel was confused.

"The Abbess has said that this is the third of five tests."

Ysenda avoided Isobel's look.

"The Abbess has also instructed that you attend her chambers after the campomine liturgy this evening."

The rest of the morning was spent learning the routines of the kitchen and the lighting and maintenance of the fires. Finally Isobel tended to the bedding and stabling of the monasteries two horses with the support of Ysenda.

At Ysenda's bidding, Isobel then made her way up to the Abbey. There was silence as she entered, her footsteps echoing as she made her way toward the confessional.

The curtains were closed but she sensed a presence.

She opened the curtain to the left and sat on the wooden seat in semi-darkness.

She heard the slide of wood behind a grill. Isobel could see nothing but darkness.

There was silence whilst Isobel composed herself.

"Bless me father for I have sinned," she said.

Her voice seemed disembodied and strange in the confined space.

After what seemed an eternity a soft deep voice replied.

"Speak."

Isobel had not thought what her confession would be.

There was a further silence whilst she thought.

"I have had covetous thoughts about my neighbour's new brooch," she said eventually.

There was silence.

"Your penance shall be to repeat the liturgy of the hours in full in your chambers every day until the day of rest," the voice replied slowly.

There was an unctuous quality to it. To Isobel, there seemed to be an underlying malevolence.

She was afraid.

"Have you had any impure thoughts my child?"

Before Isobel could reply, the voice continued with an authority that increased her fear.

"Remember, in the sanctity of the confessional. You must speak truth to God."

Isobel tried to deal with a whirlwind of thoughts. She instinctively knew that she could not reveal any of the events of the last twenty four hours.

She also knew that her interrogator would know if she lied.

"I have had impure thoughts about the blacksmiths son," she replied eventually.

And it was the truth, though months ago.

"How so?" The voice replied.

Isobel was shocked, not anticipating any further explanation.

After what seemed like an age of inner turmoil she replied.

"I thought of him lain with me and that I took....that I took his manhood."

There was silence.

"And what other thoughts did you have my child?"

For Isobel, it was excruciating but she felt compelled to tell the truth.

"I imagined taking his manhood in my mouth," she said in a rush, gasping for breath.

There was a long silence which made her embarrassment all the more difficult to bear.

"You will pay your penance here my child."

She heard the figure rise and open the curtain. A thrill of fear coursed through her.

"Her own curtain parted to reveal a hooded figure. She glimpsed half closed eyes and the close trimmed beard of a man perhaps in his sixtieth year.

He exuded authority.

"Turn to me child," he said and smiled. The smile was not pleasant.

Isobel remained seated in the confessional, but turned to face him, seemingly compelled by the request.

The priest lifted his cassock revealing a large penis rapidly becoming erect. He guided Isobel's hands to his hips and the raised cassock.

"Hold!" He commanded.

He then ran his fingers through Isobel's hair, first softly then holding her head firmly.

He guided her toward his now fully erect penis.

"Repeat after me my child...." The priest was now breathing more heavily.

"For what I am about to receive......"

Isobel looked up at him.

"Please father I don't....."

"Repeat!" The priests smile hardened and he moved her head closer.

"For what I am about to receive," she whispered.

Her mouth was being guided to within inches of the bulbous head of his shaft.

"You know the rest child," and he gripped her head more firmly, "Say it!"

Isobel looked up at him eyes wide.

"....may the lord make me truly thankful."

She closed her eyes as she felt the shaft brush her lips. It pushed firmly, urgently and she opened her mouth.

"There child, accept your penance," the priest murmured as he pushed his shaft into Isobel's mouth.

Within seconds he was thrusting back and forth, making Isobel gag as the shaft hit the back of her throat.

The priest lowered one hand and shoved it inside Isobel's tunic and sought her breast. He roughly pinched her nipple and kneaded the breast making her pull back to cry out.

The priest quickly pushed his shaft back into Isobel's mouth.

"Take your penance," he hissed through his teeth and quickened his pace.

Isobel sensed his approaching orgasm and tried to pull away, only for her head to be held in a vice like grip.

The priest groaned and Isobel felt a gush of semen fill her mouth making her gag. She tried to pull away again but was held firmly in place.

"Complete your penance my child," he whispered, looking down on her with his hooded eyes.

Isobel looked up at him and swallowed the priest's semen.

He withdrew his shaft from her mouth and smiled, removing Isobel's hands from his hips. His cassock dropped down though his shaft still stuck out prominently.

Isobel remained looking at him.

"What does God think?" she said and wondered at her audacity to ask the priest.

The priest seemed surprised but then smiled and the eyes became hooded again.

"God understands that we are but flesh and blood my child."

He stroked Isobel's hair.

"And in our weakness, he sometimes averts his eyes."

With that, the priest drew the curtain, leaving Isobel in the darkness.

———————————————————————————————————————-

Isobel remained in the dark cocoon of the confessional. She wiped her lips, but the taste in her mouth remained.

Isobel was conflicted by the necessity of obedience and her despair at this, coupled with something deeper. She was compelled by something beyond her understanding.

She did not know the priests name, but she knew he sensed that there was something different about Isobel.

And she knew it excited him.

Isobel reached into the folds of her tunic to the secret pouch she had sewn there. Her fingers found the pendent.

She wondered if the Priest knew that she did not believe in his god.

Isobel's grandmother had given her the pendant as she lay dying on the cot made for her near to the fire in the family home.

Isobel regretted that she had not passed on the lore of her beliefs, leaving so little time to do so.

"I was going to bury it and with it my spirit Isobel" Her grandmother whispered.

"But I didn't have the will to return it to the earth."

She passed the pendant to Isobel.

"And now I have little time to speak of the old gods. But perhaps the pendant will confer something on you." She smiled weakly.

"It will speak to you, or you will cast it away."

Isobel's grandmother died in the early hours of the next day. But not before she had told Isobel enough to know that she would try and seek a way to understand more.

Eventually Isobel made her way back to the monastery.

Her instructions were to maintain the fires in the kitchen, then after evening prayer return to her room and wait to be summoned.

Isobel spent the remainder of the day alone as she completed her tasks. She was content to be absorbed in something to occupy her mind. Despite this, the image of the priest and the taste in her mouth repeatedly returned through the day maintaining her anxiety.

Eventually, she returned to her room and used a bowl and cloth to remove the soot and smell of the fires she had tended.

She slept, only awaking as darkness fell. Isobel took the candle on her table and lit it, wondering again at the dream and its significance.

She did not attend the campanile liturgy in the evening but heard the nuns leave and return, chanting softly in prayer.

Shortly afterward there was a knock on the door and Sister Agnes appeared.

"It is time to meet the Abbess Isobel."

Isobel sensed a heightened mood in the nun. She seemed excited.

Neither spoke as they made their up the dark path from the monastery to the Abbess' chambers.

They arrived at the door and walked down the candlelit corridor, Sister Agnes leading.

At the end, they were met with the massive bulk of Brother George guarding the door to the Abbess' chambers, arms folded across his chest.

He looked at them impassively then knocked softly at the door. Isobel heard a reply muffled by the bulk of Brother George. He opened the door and ushered them in.

This time, he entered with them.

The Abbess sat at her desk as before, absorbed in an ornate book bound in hide.

Isobel noticed that there was now a low couch in front of the desk covered in furs.

She also noticed the Cross, the polished wood glinting softly in the candlelight.

The Abbess looked up and smiled

"Isobel, I have invited you here to complete your fourth test."

Isobel's stomach lurched.

Then her eyes were held by the Abbess'. They demanded her complete attention.

"But this is not just about the fourth test or your suitability Isobel."

The Abbess remained seated and closed the heavy book.

"No, this has become something more. Because you are rather special."

Before Isobel could register the Abbess comments, Brother George guided her to the couch with his enormous hands on her shoulders. She sat, Brother George and Sister Agnes stood behind her.

The Abbess continued:

"Father Gregory heard your confession today Isobel."

The Abbess brought her elegant hands together, her fingers stroked the ruby on the ring.

"There is of course the sanctity if the confessional but......"

The Abbess eyes bored into Isobel.

"That is irrelevant Isobel if you don't believe in it."

Isobel's bowels seemed to liquefy with fear.

"Your Reverence, I don't know....." Isobel's voice faltered and stopped under the Abbess gaze.

The Abbess move from behind the table and stood, hand proffered.

Isobel was shaking with fear but moved forward and knelt before the Abbess.

She was about to kiss the ring when, to her astonishment, the Abbess reached with her other hand and lifted the ruby which was attached to the ring with a hinged clasp.

Inside was a graven symbol which made Isobel gasp.

It was a pentagram.

"You may kiss the ring Isobel, grandchild of Judith," said the Abbess.

Isobel felt the immediate and intense emotion of the Abbess' knowledge of her and her grandmother.

She touched her lips to the symbol and felt a flood of fire course through her body.

She gasped and fell back, reaching her hands behind her to steady herself.

She looked up at the Abbess who smiled benignly but Isobel quaked, sensing her power, sensing her knowledge of her.

"You are special Isobel" The Abbess said and did not elaborate.

Brother George moved forward and lifted Isobel effortlessly to her feet, guiding her back to the couch.

Isobel could not reconcile the thoughts racing through her head. This was compounded by the Abbess' suddenly changing tack:

"Old Johnne brought you to the island Isobel?"

Isobel hesitated.

"Yes Your Reverence."

The Abbess had returned to her seat seemingly without Isobel observing any movement.

"Well old Johnne told you a truth and a lie."

Isobel tried to remember the conversation she had had from the maelstrom of thoughts in her head. The Abbess continued:

"He told you the truth when he said you should never be with child on this island."

A shadow crossed the Abbess' face.

"You knew Janette, Isobel?"

Isobel nodded.

"Yes your Reverence, I knew her."

"Sadly, she did not pass the tests. Nor did she follow her instructions."

The Abbess seemed lost in thought.

Isobel remembered Janette's lonely walk from the jetty and began to shake.

The Abbess continued:

"Secondly old Johnne told you that Brother George had his vow of silence forced upon him."

Isobel gazed in wonder at the Abbess, trying to understand how she knew.

The Abbess gestured to Brother George who now stood to the side of Isobel and the Abbess, arms folded.

"Is this true Brother George?" The Abbess said quietly.

To Isobel's astonishment the huge man spoke.

"No mistress, it is not true."

The voice was deep and heavily accented.

It terrified Isobel and she was grateful when the Abbess continued.

"Old Johnne is a seer," said the Abbess.

"He has dreams and they reveal things to him."

The Abbess smile became more fixed.

"And sometimes he captures the dreams and visions of others."

The Abbess looked at Brother George and Isobel saw something pass between them.

"But old Johnne's gift is flawed, though he does not know it.

What he saw in his dream regarding Brother George was a glimpse of my own vision of a future event."

The Abbess smiled kindly, Isobel thought, at Brother George.

"It is foretold, though my own gifts are imperfect," said the Abbess.

"It is foretold that my own destiny and that of others lie to the east. If I divine what the gods reveal to me correctly."

The Abbess looked at Isobel and she felt the same probing intensity.

"The Northman will raid again and we will see if the prophecy comes true."

"If so, they will take Harald, for that is Brother George's real name and return with him to his birth place."