The Knight And The Gnostic

[Barbaria1]

Episode 37.

I hang listlessly, unable to summon the strength necessary to raise myself again. The many long hours baking in the sun combined with the continuous struggle to raise myself ... performing over and over again my unavoidably humiliating, lewd, crowd-pleasing "dance" ... has sapped the very last of my reserves.

I am simply unable to go on. The fatigue and pain are just too much. My weary head droops forward, sweat-drenched hair half-covering my face. Slowly my chin comes to rest on my chest. My breathing is shallow. My knees swing out, exposing my open womanhood for all to see, my ravaged back and arse grate painfully against the hard upright as I slide down for the final time to a full hanging position

The crowd still watches, but as I listen I am struck by a deadly silence. The jeers and insults, the raucous laughter, can no longer be heard. The carnival atmosphere has become more of a vigil. They wait and they watch me suffer, no longer with malice in their hearts but almost now with a palpable reverence.

The Abbot and his men have ceased to gloat. A hateful mask of anger and resentment, and perhaps even a bit of fear, passes over Arnaud's face.

Through slitted eyes I watch as he looks to the quieted crowd, then to me, then back to the crowd again. He is flustered. This is not the ending he had planned. He has succeeded not in making a mockery of me and my heresy. He has instead made me a martyr!

With much effort I raise my head, open my eyes and look directly to de Flebas. I am saddened to know that he and I will never, as I had dreamed, lead an armed host against Arnaud to proclaim the righteousness of our true faith and avenge the terrible sack of Beziers.

But our eyes meet. I both forgive and am reassured. He knows. He understands. He will do what I now most urgently need him to do. He will finish this. I close my eyes and wait for him to act.

 

[old slave]

Beautifully written, and she will go to her maker feeling proud of her faith and her part in it.

My 'onlooker' in #396 thought he was telling the Abbot what he thought of him by walking away. He might in retrospect have made a bigger point by staying in silence. But he was a weak man, and took to drinking. He and his two new friends left the retinue of the Abbot, and stayed to help rebuild the town.

 

[Roberta]

Excellent writing and story, such collaboration and coordination between authors and illustrators. A bow and a curtsy to you all. Thank you so much.

 

[windar]

Very nice work. Terrific writing and illustrations. Congrats all.

But if Barb is a female Jesus, will this really be the end?

 

[thehangingtree]

They gaped upon me with their mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion.
I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint:
my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels.
My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my
jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death
Psalm 22​

Painfully beautiful both of you!!!

 

[Barbaria1]

They gaped upon me with their mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion.
I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint:
my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels.
My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my
jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death
Psalm 22​

Painfully beautiful both of you!!!

Wow! Nice post.

 

[Hondoboot2]

Episode 36

Some in the crowd gasp in sympathy with her pain. Many more roar their approval as Barbara's cross is pulled fully upright. I am sure many watching are themselves erect and hard like the cross, aroused to see this naked woman struggling for life in front of them. Arms wide as if to embrace them. Thighs open as if to receive them. Every man's imagination is enthralled by her, she is crucified for each and every one and his lustful thoughts.

I have myself lay between her bound open thighs, I have tasted her body, and to see her now nailed and writhing so close to me creates some conflict within me. I am a man, and of course my body responds to hers. I feel it even while racked with guilt for not having saved her. I feel my flesh respond to the sight and sound of her, even while I am disgusted by the spectacle of her execution.

Sunlight glints on her already sweat drenched skin. I am amazed at how beautiful she looks!
Beautiful and bare, arms and legs working to raise her higher, belly tight stretched, chest heaving for breath.
What power does a man have in the face of such a sight?

Dull thuds echo around the walls as her head is tossed back, once, twice, three times cracking on the wood behind her, as if this one movement is the only way she can react to the agony that overwhelms her, the only way she can take back some small element of control.

It is not enough.

All that terrible pressure on those wrists and feet takes its toll. Every movement, every struggle is fire around the nails, torn flesh and unbearable agony. But Barbara is committed, there is no avoiding this ordeal. The agony must be born, the terrible pain must be shouldered, there is no avoiding it. There is no escape.

Again and again she shudders to exert herself, rising on the nails to look for relief, to expand her lungs, to try and find a position where the agony is less extreme. She no longer screams, that was the shock of the nails. There is no shock now, just a sharp and never ending fire that never goes away. She no longer screams, but she groans, gasps, cries out with effort.

And yet still she is beautiful. Her suspended body has a dramatic tension which highlights her figure. Her breasts move hypnotically, tumescent nipples tipped with sweat, thrust forward above her tightly accentuated rib cage. Smooth and shapely thighs flex and strain, and the curve of her arse rubs erotically against the wooden upright. On her face the initial mask of agony gradually gives way to an almost serene and stoic beauty.

View attachment 400121

As the hours pass many of the catcalls and crude jokes give way to wonder and quiet appreciation. This is not a simple execution. Such extreme cruelty and endurance has transformed this experience into something almost spiritual. Yes the blood, sweat and indignity is still present, the body and spirit slowly broken before our eyes. But the woman before us has captured us with her suffering. Many of us remain here to accompany her on this final journey, not just to gloat in her humiliation and death. It is a mixed crowd that watches her last hours, as her movements become slow, her breathing ever more shallow. We wait for the inevitable.

It has been many hours now. Quite a few have left, but plenty remain. The Abbot and his men are still here, gloating. Many times Arnaud has looked as if he would touch her, but drawn back for fear of impropriety. The lust has never stopped burning in his eyes, but Barbara's quiet dignity has undermined his pleasure at her fate. It has been difficult for me to stay here and watch her decline, difficult but necessary. Several times she asked for water, but the Abbot declined her.

Parched and fading, she looks at me once more, with forgiveness and regret and a request. She asks for release, and it is enough for me. Without seeking his leave I stride past the Abbot and his men. I draw my sword, meet her eyes one last time, seeing her willingness, her farewell, her hope for a better afterlife. One thrust, up under the ribs, into her dear heart. Her body slumps with a sigh, as I release her soul to find a better place beyond.

Wow, what a powerful episode Phlebas!
You did the right thing de Flebas, releasing her soul to find a better place.

 

[Hondoboot2]

Episode 37.

I hang listlessly, unable to summon the strength necessary to raise myself again. The many long hours baking in the sun combined with the continuous struggle to raise myself ... performing over and over again my unavoidably humiliating, lewd, crowd-pleasing "dance" ... has sapped the very last of my reserves.

I am simply unable to go on. The fatigue and pain are just too much. My weary head droops forward, sweat-drenched hair half-covering my face. Slowly my chin comes to rest on my chest. My breathing is shallow. My knees swing out, exposing my open womanhood for all to see, my ravaged back and arse grate painfully against the hard upright as I slide down for the final time to a full hanging position

The crowd still watches, but as I listen I am struck by a deadly silence. The jeers and insults, the raucous laughter, can no longer be heard. The carnival atmosphere has become more of a vigil. They wait and they watch me suffer, no longer with malice in their hearts but almost now with a palpable reverence.

The Abbot and his men have ceased to gloat. A hateful mask of anger and resentment, and perhaps even a bit of fear, passes over Arnaud's face.

Through slitted eyes I watch as he looks to the quieted crowd, then to me, then back to the crowd again. He is flustered. This is not the ending he had planned. He has succeeded not in making a mockery of me and my heresy. He has instead made me a martyr!

With much effort I raise my head, open my eyes and look directly to de Flebas. I am saddened to know that he and I will never, as I had dreamed, lead an armed host against Arnaud to proclaim the righteousness of our true faith and avenge the terrible sack of Beziers.

But our eyes meet. I both forgive and am reassured. He knows. He understands. He will do what I now most urgently need him to do. He will finish this. I close my eyes and wait for him to act.

Powerful writing Barb!
I am glad that de Flebas ended your pain. You are now free Barbara de Moore.

 

[Barbaria1]

Wow, what a powerful episode Phlebas!
You did the right thing de Flebas, releasing her soul to find a better place.

It took guts ... brave thing to do de Flebas!

Powerful writing Barb!
I am glad that de Flebas ended your pain. You are now free Barbara de Moore.

Free for what?

 

[Wragg]

The Abbot and his men have ceased to gloat. A hateful mask of anger and resentment, and perhaps even a bit of fear, passes over Arnaud's face.

Well, there's that to be grateful for, at least....

As Phlebas says, there's more tomorrow.... maybe it's too early to eulogise, but there's much to eulogise about....

 

[Barbaria1]

Well, there's that to be grateful for, at least....

As Phlebas says, there's more tomorrow.... maybe it's too early to eulogise, but there's much to eulogise about....

Yes, one more to go ... phlebas wraps things up on Monday ... watch for it!

 

[WitchQueen]

Such a wonderful and yet tragic conclusion. I can't help but imagine myself as one of the onlookers in the crowd, horrified by the sight of such a monstrous execution. But also intrigued by Barbra's bravery and beauty. Surely she can't be the wretched heretic the Abbot has declared her of being. She has the graceful aura of a true saint despite her excruciating moment agony. The bastard Abbot and his fellow clergy members may forbid it. But as I watch her hang naked, beaten and crucified, I shall remember and secretly praise her memory as holy martyr. May you find solace in another life, Barbra de Moore.

 

[phlebas]

And so we arrive at the end. Thanks for accompanying us on this journey!

Episode 38 - epilogue

So it ended, on that day in 1209. After hours of agony and public shame, Barbara de Moore died on her cross as a martyr. Her death touched many of those who saw it, de Flebas among them. His sword thrust brought her peace, and afterwards he made sure that she was buried with respect. He became a Cathar himself, changing sides and fighting against his former companions, but the Cathars did not triumph, and the unique civilisation of the Languedoc was doomed to a slow extinction. De Flebas retired to a life of prayer and self denial. He was succeeded by his son, who abandoned the Cathar cause and returned the family to respectability.

And that family, as you may have guessed, is the family of Professor Phlebas. Phlebas is driven not just by professional interests but by familial ones. He desires to find a connection with that far off ancestor, a man so captivated by a woman that he gave up everything to follow her cause. So captivated that he created his own personal memorial to this woman, an artifact that has come to be the Professor's most treasured possession. It has captured his soul, much as the woman herself must have captured his ancestor.

That artifact is the image of the crucified Martyr of Beziers, Barbara de Moore.

 

[WitchQueen]

And so we arrive at the end. Thanks for accompanying us on this journey!

Episode 38 - epilogue

So it ended, on that day in 1209. After hours of agony and public shame, Barbara de Moore died on her cross as a martyr. Her death touched many of those who saw it, Bohemond de Flebas among them. His sword thrust brought her peace, and afterwards he made sure that she was buried with respect. He became a Cathar himself, changing sides and fighting against his former companions, but the Cathars did not triumph, and the unique civilisation of the Languedoc was doomed to a slow extinction. De Flebas retired to a life of prayer and self denial. He was succeeded by his son, who abandoned the Cathar cause and returned the family to respectability.

And that family, as you may have guessed, is the family of Professor Phlebas. Phlebas is driven not just by professional interests but by familial ones. He desires to find a connection with that far off ancestor, a man so captivated by a woman that he gave up everything to follow her cause. So captivated that he created his own personal memorial to this woman, an artifact that has come to be the Professor's most treasured possession. It has captured his soul, much as the woman herself must have captured his ancestor.

The image of the crucified Martyr of Beziers, Barbara de Moore.

View attachment 400251

Great ending. I had forgotten about the very beginning taking place with the professor unraveling the story. Glad it came back full circle.

 

[old slave]

I've now added Beziers on my to-visit list (after Namur).

These are the sort of stories which, once read, never completely leave my head.

 

[Repertor]

What a beautiful story this was. So appealing and so tragic. So well-thought and well-written from the alternating viewpoints of the protagonists who really came to life.
The historical background must have required a lot of research. I have learned a lot about the Cathars and their largely forgotten tragedy.
Phlebas and Barbara accomplished a magnum opus, beautifully visualised by Madiosi and SkatingJesus in their artwork.

 

[Hondoboot2]

What a great story, sure to become a CF classic.
Thank you Barbara, Phlebas, SkatingJesus, and Madiosi.

 

[Juan1234]

Barb and Phlebas: An excellent story with a beautiful conclusion! Well done!

 

[shastar]

Great ending for an admirable story and collaboration. Yes, this has already become a classic !

Thanks so much to all of you, writers ans illustrators...

 

[Wragg]

And so we arrive at the end. Thanks for accompanying us on this journey!

Episode 38 - epilogue

So it ended, on that day in 1209. After hours of agony and public shame, Barbara de Moore died on her cross as a martyr. Her death touched many of those who saw it, de Flebas among them. His sword thrust brought her peace, and afterwards he made sure that she was buried with respect. He became a Cathar himself, changing sides and fighting against his former companions, but the Cathars did not triumph, and the unique civilisation of the Languedoc was doomed to a slow extinction. De Flebas retired to a life of prayer and self denial. He was succeeded by his son, who abandoned the Cathar cause and returned the family to respectability.

And that family, as you may have guessed, is the family of Professor Phlebas. Phlebas is driven not just by professional interests but by familial ones. He desires to find a connection with that far off ancestor, a man so captivated by a woman that he gave up everything to follow her cause. So captivated that he created his own personal memorial to this woman, an artifact that has come to be the Professor's most treasured possession. It has captured his soul, much as the woman herself must have captured his ancestor.

That artifact is the image of the crucified Martyr of Beziers, Barbara de Moore.

View attachment 400251

So, now I can let my hair down properly!

This story has been truly excellent. The link between the past and the present; the courage of a woman facing defeat, the loss of all she holds dear, and finding herself in the hands of a churchman who should be merciful but is indescribably evil. And a man placed in an utterly impossible position, forced to torture his own conscience as he is drawn remorselessly into the heart of the suffering woman and into the machinations of the evil Abbot.

The conclusion is satisfying, too, the Abbot never did break her, and in the end her raw courage under intolerable suffering humiliated him.

I said before that it was well plotted, and the conclusion hasn't altered my opinion. Madiosi's images also contributed to making this an unforgettable story.

Thank you, Phlebas; thank you, Barb; and thank you Madiosi; and congratulations on what others have correctly described as a Classic.