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The Competition

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Today, 17th November, is the Feast of St Hilda :)
(the formidable 7th century Abbess of Whitby)
St, Hilda, who turned snakes into stone! They don't make saints like that any more.
(The legend was inspired by all the ammonite fossils, or "snake-stones" found in the rocks around Whitby)
In her younger days I hear St Hilda could indeed turn my one-eyed snake to stone...

T

:doh::doh::doh:
 
The monk watched with a mixture of fascination and sympathy. The crosses were so heavy, some of the girls so slight.
Wood weighed them down, forced them to stagger and stumble on their march. Soon it would be the wood that held their bodies up, the tables turned. The wood would not stumble, would take the weight with ease.
He watched, his eyes switching between the straining bodies. That one there, the French girl, she was not so defiant now. The other, the innocent looking one, she seemed barely able to manage, but determination was slowly spreading over her face. She may surprise us yet.
His eyes moved to the nun on the other side. She was not looking at him now, her attention taken entirely by the struggling bodies between them. He knew, he understood her interest, the hunger she radiated was something he felt growing inside himself. He wanted to be with her, to share this moment.
This special moment . . . . .

I just love this line:

"Wood weighed them down, forced them to stagger and stumble on their march. Soon it would be the wood that held their bodies up, the tables turned. The wood would not stumble, would take the weight with ease."

Very nice phlebas!
 
The dark haired girl is certainly struggling...at least Sister Hilda seems to be administering the right amount of encouragement!

She should at least do better than the Crosshageul girl!

We'll see.....


As I was trying to get some of the blood off the sandstone columns, I heard Bishop Wragg having a go at Sister Hilda for hitting her novice so hard, and he told her to use the 'refreshment break' to pray for forgiveness. Carrying my bucket of water (just as effective as an 'Access All Areas' pass) I followed Hilda into the vestry.

The Cardinal was seated in a large chair, with his legs splayed, and Sister Hilda was kneeling in prayer at his feet. The kind Cardinal was helping Hilda pray by laying his hands on her head, and helping her head to bob up and down. The cardinal's eyes were closed, and he had a contented smile on his face; it looked as if Hilda's sins were being forgiven.

I busied myself cleaning the vestry, cursing the boxes of VSOP French Cognac and Single-Malt Scotch Whisky scattered around.

No gifts from Threepwood, I did well to bet on that Thessala girl to come last.


I wouldn't be too sure...
While I was cutting thorny branches and twigs in the garden to make into crowns, I overheard two members of the Threepwood party chatting; they didn't notice me behind the hedge. I didn't hear everything, but enough to suspect that Threepwood still has an ace up its sleeve; they're saving something big for the final round.

Speculation and rumors run rampant....:rolleyes:...
 
19. Upon reaching the end of the long nave the procession needed to realign in order to make the turn and proceed single file up the narrow side aisle on the Cathedral's north side. The team from the French Abbey moved quickly to take the lead. Driven on by the insistently punishing bite of Sister Judith's whip, Messaline lugged her cross rapidly ahead and was the first to start up the side aisle.

Not wishing to yield any advantage to the French, Sister Hilda saw to it that Cruxton followed close behind by mercilessly thrashing my smarting buttocks with her strap, forcing me to move along.

Thessela trailed valiantly at some distance behind me. Hampered by the extreme awkwardness of carrying her unwieldy X-cross, the Scottish novice, Eulalia, was relegated to last in line.

The first lap was nothing less than a test of endurance. All four novices were driven relentlessly by their handlers, who prodded their poor tortured charges on with shouted exhortations to “keep moving” or “pick it up”, and by a nearly constant rain of lashes, slaps and blows on the bloodied shredded skin of bare backs, flanks, and buttocks, and at tender dangling breasts.

Weighed down by the heavy wooden beams, we staggered forward, alternately hesitating and surging ahead, bowed half-over, sweat and blood pouring down over our brows to sting our eyes, gasping for breath and grunting with exertion with each uncertain step.

The highly partisan crowd of onlookers followed eagerly along, ducking around the columns, shouting encouragements or taunts and gibes as we struggled by.

At the conclusion of the first lap I was close to collapse. Waves of weariness swept over me. My muscles ached, my back hurt, and each and every one of Hilda’s cruel strappings added to my agony. I wasn't sure how I would ever make it around twice more without faltering or falling. Each step became more difficult than the one before it, exhaustion was setting in, and my halting, broken pace only made Hilda more angry and agitated.

As we completed the circuit, leaving the narrow south aisle and crossing the great Cathedral's west end, the space widened; and seeing a chance to overtake the French and grab the lead, Sister Hilda began to strap me more ferociously than ever. I stumbled forward, nearly lost my balance, righted myself, swerved to the outside and began to edge by Messaline, who responded under Judith's furious whipping with a burst of speed of her own.

Moments later we collided, banging our crossbeams together and getting our feet tangled. I lost my balance, tottered crazily and went down, first to my knees, then laid out full on the floor, my cross on top of me. With my wrists bound to the crossbeam across my shoulders, there was no way to break my fall. My face smashed against the floor, and everything went temporarily black.

Following our collision, Messaline bounced off and careened into a column, and went down, ending up on one knee, struggling to keep the weight of her cross from toppling her over.
An infuriated and out of control Hilda charged up to Sister Judith, squared off and slugged her, sending the surprised French nun to the floor with blood spurting from her nose. Whereupon Hilda promptly tore open her vest, and shouting at the top of her lungs jumped on top of her rival and began to pummel the dazed woman with her fists.

A general scuffle ensued. Monks and nuns milled about. Some attempted to separate the combatants, while others engaged in heated arguments, pushing and shoving one another around. Bishop Wragg arrived on the scene and waded into the melee, loudly asserting his authority and eventually succeeding in separating the two sides and restoring order. Then he had Hilda, whom he held responsible for the whole disgraceful mess, brought before him. He gave her a long and heated dressing down, before summarily dismissing her from her duties and banishing her to her quarters.

Meanwhile Ethelbert and Tusk helped me to my feet, and restored me to my proper place in the procession behind Messaline. As I stood there dazed and hurting, more unsure than ever about for how long my ebbing strength would allow me to continue, I heard the Abbess yelling at Tusk to go fetch Sister Kathleen.

The Bishop gave the signal and the procession began to move again, rounding the corner to embark on its second lap around the Cathedral. Ethelbert took over from the disgraced Hilda and applied his short whip to my back to set me in motion. I staggered forward, weaving uncertainly, closing my eyes to keep the world from spinning and wondering if this could all be a bad dream.

TO BE CONTINUED


Thanks this time to Siss for help with the plotting, and to mp5stab for penning some nice descriptive phrases and words that I shamelessly plagiarized incorporated into the text.
 
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Tree is relaxing before 'the main event' when the cardinal's emissary Father Lynch visits him. The priest says to Tree that the cardinal wishes to extend an invitation for Tree to watch the competition. Tree says "I'm honored but could as you a question?"

"Of course, Father Tree"

"I really don't understand this 'competition'. Could you explain it to me?"

"Certainly, you have already seen the early stages. Next the novices will carry their crosses they will be nailed to with spikes like these to be raised and hang crucified until they are all dead" he says as he holds up three spikes.

rev lynch.jpg

Tree takes a sip of well spiked coffee and in a great understatement says "I am familiar with the concept of crucifixion. I just don't understand the idea that the last novice alive is left on her cross to die with the others."

tree esspresso a.jpg

"They are just novices. Why take even one down?"

Tree still doesn't understand why the novices would even participate in such a contest he says "Please inform the cardinal I would be honored to attend..."
 
The squirrel dropped a nut. It went plink. Not that anyone noticed. This was much more interesting. Two of the humans had walked into one another because....well...humans...now one that was being called a "Hilda" had attacked a human who was having the word Judith yelled her a lot though her name might be "Ne pas casser son cou" seeing as her gang had been yelling that at her a lot since she had used her legs to get the Hilda in a neck lock. Those were good thighs, strong, you could climb trees with those kind of thighs or run really fast away from foxes.

The Squirrel looked around for the interesting human with the flask of widdle. Maybe he would like to make a bet on how long before the Hilda's neck went pop?
 
This girl's been learning tactics from a slavegirl from some barbaric land across the Ocean,
who was given to Abbess Ailsa (Ailsa the Crag, not Alisa ;)) by a Dutch sea-captain
heading up the Clyde, in recognition of services generously provided to himself and his crew
by the nuns of Crosshageul.

The slavegirl's a wild kid, she seems to have an irresistible urge to get covered in mud,
but what she doesn't know about crosses and wheels isn't knowledge.

So, advised by Cruxslave as she's known, Eul holds cannily behind the ruck
(peloton I think she calls it :confused:) in the narrow aisles,
knowing they're going to come a cropper at the west transept bend.... :devil:

(PS -as ever, late - thanks for all the advice on X-cross carrying,
this really is the site for cross-cognoscenti! :)
I think Monty's idea of a strap round my waist is a good one,
though perhaps one above my boobs going round under my armpits
would distribute the weight better? But Cruxslave has shown me how to
heave it up onto my shoulders and scuttle round the others
when I see a chance :p)
 
This girl's been learning tactics from a slavegirl from some barbaric land across the Ocean,
who was given to Abbess Ailsa (Ailsa the Crag, not Alisa ;)) by a Dutch sea-captain
heading up the Clyde, in recognition of services generously provided to himself and his crew
by the nuns of Crosshageul.

The slavegirl's a wild kid, she seems to have an irresistible urge to get covered in mud,
but what she doesn't know about crosses and wheels isn't knowledge.

So, advised by Cruxslave as she's known, Eul holds cannily behind the ruck
(peloton I think she calls it :confused:) in the narrow aisles,
knowing they're going to come a cropper at the west transept bend.... :devil:

(PS -as ever, late - thanks for all the advice on X-cross carrying,
this really is the site for cross-cognoscenti! :)
I think Monty's idea of a strap round my waist is a good one,
though perhaps one above my boobs going round under my armpits
would distribute the weight better? But Cruxslave has shown me how to
heave it up onto my shoulders and scuttle round the others
when I see a chance :p)

Eul's ready to make her move....watch out everyone for what will happen at that west transept bend :confused:

nude-girl-is-carrying-the-wooden-cross.jpg leashed-slevagirl-follows-her-master.jpg ... couple images to prove it can be done .... but shows that a strap under the armpits just above the boobs could help.
 
Eul's ready to make her move....watch out everyone for what will happen at that west transept bend :confused:

View attachment 303968 View attachment 303969 ... couple images to prove it can be done .... but shows that a strap under the armpits just above the boobs could help.
brilliant - maybe I'd seen that pic and got a subconscious memory of it,
but I honestly was just thinking how I'd deal with an awkward load like that :D
 
Eul's ready to make her move....watch out everyone for what will happen at that west transept bend :confused:

View attachment 303968 View attachment 303969 ... couple images to prove it can be done .... but shows that a strap under the armpits just above the boobs could help.
What will happen at the transept bend, you ask? There will be some blasted verger with a mop and bucket cleaning the floor. There will be carnage as you stumble and knock him out with your cross beam
 
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