Read Pagan's Vows for Free Online Page B

explain that . . . it’s very difficult. And now I don’t have to, because someone else has entered the church.
    Rap, rap, rap. I recognise that sound. It’s Clement’s walking-stick.
    ‘Roquefire.’ Clement’s voice, like the squawk of a hen. ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘I’m cleaning the candelabra.’
    ‘You look as if you’re sitting around on your backside, to me.’
    ‘Yes, but –’
    ‘Get out of here. Out. “Idleness is the enemy of the soul”. Go and do something useful.’
    A sullen silence, as Roquefire trudges to the door. I can understand now why he wants to be a soldier. The door creaks, and bangs. The footsteps recede.
    Now it’s my turn to face the Toothless Terror.
    ‘So, Pagan. I hope you have come to repent your sins. I hope you have reflected upon the evil of falsehoods. The Scriptures say: “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord”. In breaking with the truth, you have become an abomination. Do you realise that?’
    Well, Master Needle-nose, it takes an abomination to know an abomination. He hovers somewhere above my head, like a hawk waiting to strike. Circling . . . circling . . .
    Please God don’t let him tread on my fingers.
    ‘In fact there are seven things which are abominations to the Lord,’ he continues. ‘The first two are a proud look and a lying tongue. You display both. It seems to me that your pride is at the root of your disobedience. You are proud of your quick wits. Proud of your little store of learning. You think that you’ve mastered the Rule of Saint Benedict, yet you continue to flout it! What of Chapter Seven? What of the twelve steps of humility? Tell me what the seventh step of humility is. I give you permission to speak.’
    ‘ “The seventh step of humility is reached when a man not only confesses with his tongue that he is most lowly and inferior, but in his inmost heart believes so”.’
    ‘And do you believe so? Of course not. Yet you have the arrogance to think that you have mastered the Rule.’
    ‘I never said –’
    ‘Silence!’ ( Wham! He slams his stick down.) ‘Did I give you permission to speak? Did I? “The ninth step of humility is reached when a monk stops his tongue from talking and, practising silence, speaks not till a question be asked of him”. Once again you fail to abide by the Rule.’
    Oh, go boil your bladder, you old crow. I’m sick of this. If you’re going to tread on my fingers, just do it. Anything’s better than being lectured to death.
    ‘The other novices are listening to Amiel, who is reading from the Rule.’ Rap, rap. Rap, rap. His stick strikes the floor as he circles. ‘Although they have heard the Rule many times, I can trust them to listen with humility, knowing that they will derive further wisdom from each holy chapter. They are not like you. You are too proud. You have a restless, frivolous mind. So I’m going to set you another task.’
    He stops suddenly, and nudges Boethius with the end of his stick. Poor old Boethius, lying about on the church floor like a worthless Arab. But what was I supposed to do with the thing? Use it as a footstool?
    ‘You’ve been carrying this book around with you for several days now,’ Clement adds, ‘yet it doesn’t seem to have taught you anything. That’s why I’m going to ask you to read it. Get up.’
    Get up? Easier said than done, Master Needle-nose. Ow! Ouch! Stiff joints; numb knees; I feel as if I’ve been run over by a herd of wild horses.
    ‘What are you doing?’ His voice is like someone forging nails. ‘Are you going to leave that book down there? Pick it up, quickly! Give it to me. If it’s damaged, you’ll be fasting for the rest of the summer.’
    He opens it, and begins to flick through the heavy pages as Bernard Blancus scurries past. I wish I was going with Bernard.
    ‘Here.’ Clement’s found the right chapter. ‘This is what I want you to read. All of this, this, this, all this . . .’ (Flick, flick.) ‘. . . and all of