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The Competition

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old slave said:
There's a rumour circulating among the gambling fraternity that this will be the last Competition. It's said that Rome is worried about the turnover of novices, and the Risk Assessment classifies open manual scourging as dangerous for the whipper both from stray lashes and repetitive strain injury.

Rome suggests instead that good-looking novices be sent there for 'examination and training' in the sport of racing. Something about pulling carts. Can't see how they could do that with their habits on. Maybe they would have to take them off (do they wear anything underneath? Don't think so).

Don't see any sort of racing catching on with gamblers though. Where the fun of watching girls, or horses, or things on wheels, going round a track?

No, I think we should stick to what we know, whipping, crucifying, maybe the odd burning, all good spectator sports, and the girls usually die with smiles on their faces, so it's win-win all round, right?
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Mery sakes
 

18. The cold water from the bucket sloshed over my head. I spluttered and coughed … water mixed with traces of blood covered my face … I tried to raise my head, but fell back, overcome with dizziness and shock.

An impatient and enraged Hilda planted the toe of her boot under my ribs and flipped me over on my back. I winced as my ravaged back came in contact with the floor, and cried out when she grabbed me forcibly by the chin and shook my head.

"Get up Barbara!" She hissed, "You are not going to give out on me now; this is far from over!" I groaned; opened my eyes and just stared blankly at her, then slowly, painfully began to move my aching limbs.

With the help of Ethelbert and Tuck, I managed to sit up and then turn on my flank; from there I struggled onto my hands and knees. Glancing to my left, I noted that Eulalia was already on her feet, bending over to receive the weight of a cross on her back … but not just an ordinary cross like mine, one shaped like an "X".

Just beyond the Scottish novice, a thoroughly scourged Messaline was still passed out on the floor, surrounded by a concerned French team desperately trying to revive her and get her on her feet. Rivulets of blood poured from under her crown of thorns, perhaps from Sister Judith twisting it about on her head too vigorously.

To my right, Thessela lay on her side, curled in a fetal position. Her eyes were open. She was staring at me with a scared and pleading look. My first impulse was to ignore her, but as I raised myself up to a kneeling position, I suddenly reached out to her, grasping her arm to help her up. She smiled faintly, gripped my arm, and righted herself on hands and knees.

This may be a competition, I thought to myself, but we are in this together and the horror of our plight … well, yes … I felt for her, the poor thing was so obviously unprepared for this.

But Hilda quickly intervened, angrily breaking my helping grasp with a swift kick. Thessela collapsed back on the floor, her bare skin making a squeaking noise sliding against the polished marble floor.

A moment later I felt the hard wood of my cross grate against the raw skin of my back, as Ethelbert and Tuck struggled to position it over my shoulders and against my neck in a way that allowed my arms to be stretched over and around the crossbeam, and for my wrists to be bound in place. Hilda, now wielding a short leather strap, snapped its flat end at my hanging breasts, and at my tummy and hips, until she had driven me to a bent-forward standing position. Ethelbert and Tuck chuckled merrily to themselves as they finished lashing my wrists in place.

Eulalia was already up and ready beside me. Thessela was on her feet now, unsteadily bearing the weight of a cross freshly placed on her back. For a moment I thought she was going to keel over, but she didn't. Messaline too was up now and burdened with a cross, a determined if wearily stressed look on her face as she looked at each of us in turn, taking stock of the situation.

The "cross-bearing" part of our ordeal was about to begin. We were to carry the instruments of our own crucifixion and death three times around the Cathedral and then out into the cloister to be nailed and raised. The plan for the trek was to have us set out four abreast down the central aisle of the nave toward the west front, then single file around the north side aisle, behind the choir, then down the south side aisle and back to the west front, from where we were expected to repeat the circuit twice more before passing through a side door and out into the Cathedral cloister. The heavy crosses were to be carried the distance without faltering. Failure could cost our team precious performance points.

As we waited for the forced march to begin, the Cardinal weaved his way among us, closely inspecting our straining, sweat and blood streaked bodies. He seemed to take special delight in our near nakedness, fondling and poking at will. He made a show of blessing our crosses.

What rubbish, I thought, why does he bother?

Again I noticed the tall young nun among his retinue, and the special way she looked at me and the others. I shifted from one foot to the other in a vain effort to redistribute the dead weight more comfortably on my back and shoulders. I could hear Messaline muttering something I could not understand in French, but took it as impatience with the long delay in getting started. I also noticed how the X-cross on Eulalia’s back stretched her arms out differently from mine, and how the weight was centered lower on her back, and wondered whether that made it easier or more difficult for her.

At long last the Cardinal was finished with us. He took a position out in front; his retinue falling in behind. The procession was ready to make its ponderous way down the long Cathedral nave, lined on both sides by the assembled onlookers crowding one another for a better vantage point and for an opportunity to cheer their own team, and jeer the others.

As soon as the Cardinal and his people moved forward, Hilda slapped the flat of her leather strap across my butt, and I staggered forward, cheeks quivering, weaving slightly and bumping the end of my crossbeam against Thessela’s. There was precious little space, and the four of us nearly collided with one another again and again as we progressed slowly down the nave, bent over under the weight of our burdens, our handlers driving us mercilessly on with straps, whips and canes.


TO BE CONTINUED
 
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messaline said:
What Barb has not said ....

We were not all whipped with the knout ; our Abesse had the choice of the whip ; for me, wishing to be the most near of the real roman whipping, she had choosen this famous roman whip, with two leather'lashes into which are inserted lead'balls to do the fleshes exploding !

"Aaaaaarg !" I squealed when the first stroke was hurting my back , but, chained like an animal to the whipping post, I couldn't escape !

"Woooooooooooorrrrggg !" I bellowed when the following strokes were starting to redden my body !

"Aooooooorrrgg!" Suddenly, like I was trying to avoid the lashes in twisting my body around the column, my right breast was
blazing like if a red iron had burned it !

It was only the 10th stoke !

But, implacably, the torment continued ! My Abess had entrusted it to a nun of our Abbey named Sister Judith: never,during my training , she had whipped me but I knew her for her deep cruelty !

Now, splashes of blood were spattering all around me and Sister Judith was even laughing in front of that, though she was herself bespattered !

"Waaaaoooo ! Aaaaaaarg ! Aoooooorgg! " I was shrieking, howling, squealing but more I was, more Sister Judith took her pleasure to do !!!

When the Cardinal was coming to see, he received some blood on his face and was applausing with a great joice !

The last strokes were like a death, for me : I was hanged by my wrists to the column and had even practically no reactions !
I was in transe , exhausted , overwelcomed by the sufferings ....
But, was it not the target in fact ? To weaken the future crucified for more subjugation ?

"Hin ! Hin ! Hin !" Only an animal'groan could get out of me : I was like annihilated, only wishing that it could be pleasant for the Jury and that my Abbey would be proud of me ..........

Just my little contribution .......

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And a very nice contribution too....
 
suggestions needed as to how best to carry an X-cross.
I've often wondered how St Andrew managed -
very few artists have tried to show him carrying it,
a couple I've found seem to make him carry the two beams separately,
or perhaps folded together like scissors -
but I don't want to be a snuiler (cheat)!
 
Eulalia said:
suggestions needed as to how best to carry an X-cross.
I've often wondered how St Andrew managed -
very few artists have tried to show him carrying it,
a couple I've found seem to make him carry the two beams separately,
or perhaps folded together like scissors -
but I don't want to be a snuiler (cheat)!
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A tight cord around your waist and the narrowest part of the X should help; you'll have to bear its weight on your hips rather than your shoulders.
 
Eulalia said:
suggestions needed as to how best to carry an X-cross.
I've often wondered how St Andrew managed -
very few artists have tried to show him carrying it,
a couple I've found seem to make him carry the two beams separately,
or perhaps folded together like scissors -
but I don't want to be a snuiler (cheat)!
Click to expand...

Probably smartest not to carry the whole cross but if they insist have the two beams rigged travois style, they can be rerigged when it comes to the end of the journey. That way you can drag at least some of the weight rather than carrying the whole load and risking a premature exit.
 
thehangingtree said:
That strange 'priest' watches the proceedings... he takes a drink from a gold flask. Anyone could see the engraved cross. His fingers covered the initials below cross that said 'THT'...
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A squirrel perched in the rafters recognises the gold flask he widdled in earlier. He munches some nuts pilfered from the larder and wonders what the humans are up to?
 
RacingRodent said:
A squirrel perched in the rafters recognises the gold flask he widdled in earlier. He munches some nuts pilfered from the larder and wonders what the humans are up to?
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:duke:Giggle snort!!! I must be tired...that one made me spray my laptop screen.:rolleyes:
 
messaline said:
... and the real VIA CRUXIS is starting ....could we go to the end ?

I was so much desiring that ! ​
A deep impulse, coming from my belly !

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The "desire" cannot be denied ... we will persevere to the end, all of us! ;)
 
montycrusto said:
A tight cord around your waist and the narrowest part of the X should help; you'll have to bear its weight on your hips rather than your shoulders.
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Pretty close to how I visualized it in writing this episode. She will be stretched out, and will have two timbers dragging on the floor behind her, which will add to the burden ... but with determination she will make it to the cloister.;)
 
Barbaria1 said:
but with determination she will make it to the cloister.;)
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She's got that all right
The two beams in contact with the floor add to the friction, but increase the steadiness; she won't have to waste energy wobbling from side to side, and can focus on lifting and pulling the weight. The others will find their crosses top-heavy and unstable, and will have to use some of their strength to keep them steady. I think Eulalia might have an advantage in this section.
 
montycrusto said:
She's got that all right
The two beams in contact with the floor add to the friction, but increase the steadiness; she won't have to waste energy wobbling from side to side, and can focus on lifting and pulling the weight. The others will find their crosses top-heavy and unstable, and will have to use some of their strength to keep them steady. I think Eulalia might have an advantage in this section.
Click to expand...

Yep...think you have the physics of it nailed ... oops, sorry ... poor choice of words.:rolleyes:
 
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