Chapter Sixteen
A flagellant’s Paradise
Alex entered the dimly-lit room and saw a semi-circle of monks standing with their arms sheathed in the sleeves of their brown habits.
In front of them was a platform bearing a table covered in a pristine white cloth with a gold trim.
Alex surveyed the room as she crept towards them on bare feet. There was a trestle table against one wall with many instruments of discipline laid out along its full length, small whips with knotted thongs, birch rods, chains, even thistles and nettles; other tables were left bare.
‘Come forward, my child,’ said one of the monks that she imagined was the Abbot. Their faces were hidden under their cowls and it was impossible for Alex to recognise any man there; the voice of the man who’d spoken wasn’t known to her,
