Saint-Germain 02: The Palace by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

Author:Chelsea Quinn Yarbro [Yarbro, Chelsea Quinn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, Historical, Horror, Occult & Supernatural, Vampires
ISBN: 9780759299467
Publisher: Signet
Published: 1978-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

SUOR MERZEDE HAD just begun the Agnus Dei when there was a disturbance at the back of the chapel. The assembled Celestiane nuns persevered through the prayer until the noise became too great. With patient resignation the familiar Latin words straggled to a stop and Suor Signale stepped out of the choir to look to her unfortunate charge.

Estasia shrieked as the nun touched her. "No! Nothing holy!" She twisted violently, crouching low as Suor Signale approached her once again. "No, nothing holy! I won’t have it!"

Suor Signale eluded Estasia’s flailing hands and long fingernails, saying gently, "Dear Estasia, don’t be troubled. If you will come with me, you may be comfortable once again.

By this time Suor Merzede, Superiora of the Sacro Infante convent, had come to join Suor Signale, and said in an undervoice, "She’s getting worse."

"Yes, she is," Suor Signale agreed in an undervoice, then tried once more to calm Estasia. "No, my dear, don’t be troubled in this way. Pray to God to forgive you. He is the beginning of tranquillity."

It was doubtful that Estasia heard her at all. She had fallen to her knees and wailed in a hideous voice. "The Devil is tempting me. See how he tempts me!" She threw herself backward. "See how he uses me. See what he does to me!" Her skirts were flung back and she spread her thighs.

"Oh, dear." Suor Signale sighed. "It will take time, Superiora. I’m afraid these seizures don’t pass quickly. In a moment she will say that a thousand devils are ravishing her." The nun crossed herself. "It puts me out of all charity with her." It was a terrible admission for the nun to make.

"What God sends you, accept gladly in His name," Suor Merzede admonished her, but gently. "See if you can persuade her to Confess. I know you have before," she said resignedly. "She has resisted. But we must not be remiss in our faith because others wander." With that she turned once again and motioned to the assembled nuns to resume their prayers.

The gentle petition of the Agnus Dei filled the chapel as Suor Signale moved nearer to Estasia.

"No! No! No!" The cry rent the prayers, but the nuns paid no attention, their voices keeping up the words in a steady rhythm. Estasia flung herself to the stone floor and began to pull off the old gonella she wore.

"Now, sweet Donna Estasia," Suor Signale said, a certain asperity creeping into her tone. "You must not demean yourself this way. Ask God to give you strength to resist."

Estasia struck out at her, her hands like claws, her hazel eyes livid with hatred. "You shall not touch me! It is not for you to touch me. I don’t want you. I want the other. See where the demons come. See how they stretch out their hands to me. See how they caress me, how they burn my flesh with their touch." She was almost naked now, and she lay supine, her legs apart, her head flung back.

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