Chapter IV: Blasphemy
After Sister Mary’s funeral, I felt that some of the Sisters were avoiding me. At first, I told myself that I was imagining things, but their behaviour soon became undeniable and I asked Sister Agatha about it.
‘I must apologise for my Sisters’ shameful conduct, Lady Brigid. Someone remarked how all the problems started shortly after your arrival and a few of the more superstitious Sisters got in their heads that there might be a connection.’
I was shocked, though part of me understood their concern. If everything had indeed been fine until I arrived, why wouldn’t they blame the element that had disturbed their peace? And had I not been sent here due to a spiritual malady? Perhaps something had taken root in my soul, something malignant, robbing me of my usual joyfulness, and then I had brought it here. It was me the old woman had spoken to, it was me the goat man had been staring at, and it was also me who had dreamed of the ungodly angel. Had Sister Sarah even said those things to me or had it all been an illusion to poison me against her? Perhaps Sister Rachel hadn’t been mad and the same Evil that was following me around had taken Sister Sarah’s likeness to trick her and turn the Sisters against each other. I knew I should say something, but I still couldn’t overcome my fear of being branded either mad or a witch, so I said nothing and accepted Sister Agatha’s apology on behalf of the other nuns.
The guilt I felt for not sharing my suspicions was weighing on me and it took me a long time to fall asleep that night. As soon as I had, though, a noise awoke me; someone had bumped against my door. Worried that perhaps one of the older nuns needed help, I opened the door. There was no one outside, but I saw Sister Sarah walking down the corridor, wearing a black cloak. My instincts told me to close the door and go back to sleep, but I just had to know where she was going at that time of the night. I followed her down the stairs, and then to the cellar. She walked past the place where Sister Mary had been found and stopped in front of a wall. I wondered if there was a hidden door, but instead, Sister Sarah bent over and grabbed an iron ring that was on the floor. She pulled and a great stone slab moved, uncovering the entrance to a tunnel. Sister Sarah went in, and after some hesitation, I followed. The tunnel was wider and higher than I expected; it hadn’t been done in a hurry. I passed more than one side passage, dark and narrow, but was too afraid of abandoning the main path to see where they went. Finally, the tunnel led up, and I found myself in the monastery’s chapel. There was only one reason Sister Sarah could be there, so I wasn’t surprised when I saw her pick up the box where the relic was kept.
‘Sister Sarah, don’t!’
The woman laughed and took out the feather. Its white was so impossibly pure that I wondered how I could have ever thought it was a common goose’s feather. Sister Sarah turned around, smiling.
‘Sweet, sweet, Brigid.’
‘Please, put the feather back.’
Sister Sarah let the cloak fall to the floor - she was naked underneath, and her hair was long. It was as black as a raven’s wing and reached her waist in thick, lustrous waves that made her skin look almost as white as the angel’s feather.
‘What are you doing? Are you mad? If you’re caught, you’ll be thrown out!’
Sister Sarah ignored me and instead examined the feather.
‘So pretty…’
To my horror, she started caressing her breasts with it.
‘So soft… These are probably the only woman’s breasts it has ever touched. God is very possessive of His angels, you know? A long, long time ago, angels came to live among Man and lay with mortal women. God was mad, took them all away, and chained them somewhere, to serve as an example to any angel thinking of defiling themselves with us, dirty females.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘It is. There’s a lot you don’t know about your God, Brigid. And about you, too. Don’t you want to know all the things no one has told you to keep you pure and innocent for your future husband?’
‘No, I don’t!’
‘Don’t you?’ Sister Sarah slid a hand under my nightgown, but I pressed her legs together.
‘This is wrong, Sister Sarah.’
‘Athénais, Brigid, my name is Athénais. Sarah was what they called me after my father dragged me here and they cut my hair and covered me in their coarse dresses that even my servants would’ve refused. I’m not even from this province, he just wanted to send me so far away that he could pretend I was dead. And for what? Because I gave what was mine to whom I chose instead of whom he wanted.’
She pulled up my nightgown all the way to my chin.
‘What a waste, Brigid. All you’ll ever know is a single man’s touch and the pain of childbirth. You’re too good to take a lover or to rouse the kind of passion in your husband to make him see you as more than a means to carry on his bloodline. You could have so much more if you wanted.’
‘I don’t want more! All I want is to fulfil my duty to my parents, my future husband, and God!’
‘Oh, of course, God. Something this pure isn’t fit for my impious hands.’ Athénais smiled mischievously. ‘It deserves something much holier.’
I wanted to leave, but it was as if my feet were nailed to the floor. Athénais ran the angel’s feather gently, tauntingly, from my exposed breasts down to my belly and lower still. It felt good. I hated myself for it, but it did, and before I could stop myself, I parted my legs slightly. Athénais moved the feather over the exposed flesh, and I covered my eyes, as if that could hide my shame. Suddenly, I felt myself lying on the floor. I uncovered my eyes and was horrified at what I saw. Athénais was standing by my feet, and behind her was the goat man I had seen among the trees the other day. He was caressing her body with clawed hands and she was clearly enjoying it. The creature whispered something in her ear and she laughed.
‘Oh, yes, she’s a virgin. Pure as the snow. Just as you wanted, Master.’
The Devil looked at me and I cried. I moved to pull down the nightgown and cover myself, but it was gone. Desperate, I closed my eyes and prayed as I heard the sound of a hoof on the floor, followed by another. Soon, I felt the Devil’s hands pull my legs apart, and his warm breath on my face. I opened my eyes and saw him kneeling between my legs, his erect member almost touching my flesh. I wept. It wasn’t fair. What had I done to deserve such a fate?
‘Oh, God, no! Please, save me, my Lord, please! I’m so sorry I fell into temptation, but don’t let the Devil take me! Please don’t let him steal my soul and my body! Please, save me, like you saved the monks of so long ago!’
I heard Athénais laugh.
‘Oh, Brigid, what a naughty girl you are!’
I looked around. There was an angel on the doorway. At first I rejoiced, believing that God had answered my prayers, but as he stepped closer, I froze; it was Haniel. He was impossibly beautiful, but I couldn’t forget how he had flayed Saint Bartholomew with his knife.
‘Brigid.’
Such a soft, melodious voice; the same I had heard when I had beaten and scratched myself.
‘No!’
The angel was standing near my head, now. Athénais walked towards us, still completely naked, but the Devil had disappeared.
‘Do you refuse the grace of God, Brigid?’ Haniel asked.
‘Yes, Brigid, do you refuse God’s grace? You shouldn’t. Look at the nice angel cock he sent you.’ Athénais smirked.
I rose on trembling legs and shook her.
‘No, Athénais, stop! You don’t understand!’
‘Oh, I think I do. Of course, such a good girl like you would dream of angels.’
‘Oh, I just want to go back to the convent!’
I opened my eyes and found myself in my bed, though I didn’t remember how I’d got here. Standing on tiptoes, I looked through the small window and saw that dawn was still far away. It couldn’t have been more than two hours since I had gone to bed, and it had taken too long for me to finally fall asleep. There hadn’t been enough time for me to follow Sister Sarah to the monastery, stay there, and then return to the convent. I was also wearing my nightgown, and the soles of my feet were clean, which would have been impossible if I had been walking around barefoot. However, even if I hadn’t actually been at the chapel with Sister Sarah, the Devil, and Haniel, it had all felt so real that I couldn’t convince myself that it had been only a dream.