This would’ve been a good time for her to turn tail and run.
“The devil!” The priest’s voice rose over everyone’s heads. “The devil is in her!”
That was when she knew the fun was over. Worse, she’d been the only one having fun, as the sisters had taken it seriously, and with the priest’s intervention, they were about to take it even more so.
“The devil speaks through her,” he bellowed. “That is the devil’s tongue in her mouth. Bring her, bring her… We must save her soul!”
Seraphina was hoisted up, carried by the nuns on their hands and shoulders. She kicked and struggled.
“No, you fools! I was just teaching you a lesson!”
“No, no, no…” She heard Idris beg as he ran after them. “No devil, there’s no devil here…”
No one was listening. The priest was shouting instructions. The words “rope” and “holy cross” reached Seraphina’s ears, making her scream and fight harder. Sisters were sobbing, praying, soothing each other.
“God help us, there’s no time to call for the bishop,” she heard the priest say. “Her soul is in danger. We must do this now.”
Father Anton was a simple man in his fifties. He lived in the nearby village and came up to the convent every day in his cart pulled by a donkey. He’d taken Seraphina’s confession many times and absolved her of sins that had been thrust upon her. He was not a bad man, and his intentions now came from an honest belief that he was doing God’s work, saving a woman who’dsuffered so much, been broken so irreparably that the devil had found a crack and slipped right into her body.
“My book, bring my book!”
Seraphina was put down on her feet and tied to one of the wooden posts the nuns used for training. She’d kicked and slashed at this very post herself, the wood bearing the marks of her knife.
Holy water splashed her face and neck.
“You, stop!”
Father Anton wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were cast upward as he made the sign of the cross and recited Pater Noster. The sisters spread out in a circle and chanted with him. She saw Idris on the fringes, begging with them.
Seraphina made eye contact with a random nun.
“You, release me.”
The woman moved toward the pole but was stopped by two others.
“You, untie me!”
She was outnumbered, and they were starting to avoid her gaze. Harmless commands weren’t going to work anymore.
“I cast you out, most unclean spirit, every assault of the adversary, every phantom, every legion…” the priest recited from the heavy tome he was holding. He stepped forward and shoved a cross into Seraphina’s face. “Ecce Crucem Domini…”
“You, take Father Anton’s cross and book!”
The nun lunged at the priest, grabbing the book with one hand and reaching for the cross with the other. He screamed and held on, lifting the cross high above his head. They did an awkward dance where the nun attempted to throw herself at him, and he pushed the book into her chest to keep her at a distance, then two sisters grabbed her by the arms and carried her away.
“It’s the devil’s tongue,” the Mother Superior repeated Father Anton’s previous words.
A few feet away, the nun Seraphina had told to jump and flail her arms was still doing it.
The sea shanty went on:
“I asked this fair maid to take a walk,
Mark well what I do say
I asked this maid out for a walk
That we might have some private talk.”
