Behind the crowd, the nun continued to watch the cruelty unfold. She did not know their sins, or their crimes (did they even have crimes? Were they as innocent as the Lord Himself?) but she knew she wanted to see their punishment. There was blood flowing down their backs and tears rolling down their cheeks; there was no doubt that the women were suffering. As the scoring concluded, it became obvious how much of a toll the pageantry had taken on the young nuns. The crowns they had been given, rose thorns wrapped tightly around their heads, had cause one, Barbaria to become faint and disoriented, falling unconscious only briefly after the thorns had been driven down her head. Already she was looking much weaker. The others were not in much better shape; Thessala looked like she was in shock, and made no movements as her heavy cross was placed on top of her collapsed body; Messaline, for all of the determination she showed as her cross was brought over her shoulder, could not help but let tears trickle from her eyes, and mix with the blood on her face; Eulalia was perhaps the best off, but even she was weakened by the whipping and crowning.
A violent splash of icewater drew the young nun's attention back to the now more alert Barbaria. As she rose again, her gaze meet briefly with the nun's and the nun sheepishly glanced to Barbaria's left at Thessala, instead. She pushed herself off of the ground and beneath her waiting cross, lined up with the other women.
At the crack of the whips behind them, their test of endurance began. Their steps we heavy and measured, trying to gain ground without losing footing. The enormous 50 kilo wooden crossbeams weighed down their progress, causing them to dip their shoulders and lower their backs. Periodically, regardless of the pace, the whips would be snapped out onto the already bloodied backs of the tortured nuns. The fall of the harsh leather over the shredded skin drew out rapid gasps and moans from the victims. As the march wore on, the whipping became more erratic for the women, though, used more as a prod than a punishment. Well, all the women but one. Barbarias back was mercilessly assaulted by her Mistress. Repeatedly, from almost every angle. Every couple of seconds, another whip fell. She looked like she would collaspe onto her knees at any time, and the march had barely gotten into its first lap...
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