Chapter 13
He prayed for days at a time, repeating the Lord's prayer over and over in his mind, asking God for the blessing of strength. Then, one morning, the Abbot woke him. He rose quickly, his senses sharpening instantly. He got out of bed and putting on his robe, noticed the Abbot was carrying a rather large book. He carried a stern expression as Aiden approached him. Although he didn't know the lesson being put in front of him that day, he knew that the time for it had arrived.
Having been shown to the library, the Abbot motioned Aiden to sit at one of the writing desks. These were normally used for translating and copying books. But that day, the library would be used as a classroom. The Abbot sent the book in front of him. Its cover and binding appeared ancient and worn. Its pages were intact, yet stained with the passage of many years. Upon closer examination, Aiden noticed a title on its spine. It was in Latin and translated into the words 'The Witches Hammer'. He would spend his foreseeable future learning how to detect the presence of witchcraft as well as those methods, sanctioned by the church, for the disposition of such vile creatures. In time, he would memorize every word. But, this knowledge was not enough. It was certainly informative but only represented the path. Not the goal. One can know the mechanics of starting a fire. But without bringing that knowledge to a flame, it was useless. And after months of study, Aiden learned the many techniques of discerning good from evil. Now, it was time to learn the weaponry for the banishment of evil, to become a living conduit of the power of God.
His next task was an in-depth study of the Roman Rites. But there was one, in particular, he would focus on. The rite of exorcism. It was not enough to be able to dispatch the evil of witchcraft. He would also be obligated to cast out those vile creatures that dared to corrupt the creations of the Almighty, those made in His image. Reading it was only the first step. The rite's true power displayed itself in its delivery and effectively doing so demanded unyielding faith. But, it would be months, perhaps years before Aiden was ready to use the rite as the weapon it was intended to be. He would carry it with him, but like any other weapon, it would be far more effective when kept at the ready, to be available in a moments notice through the memorization of its contents.
It was during his learning of the rite of exorcism that his monastic training took a turn for the strange and painful. As the rite's words became more meaningful for him, the Abbot ordered that Aiden be cleansed of his own demons, to purge him of any remaining sin. All the prayers by all the Saints were not enough to wash his soul of sin and decadence. Again, the Abbot arrived unannounced. But when Aiden rose from his bed, he saw that it was not a book Abbot held, but a whip. By this time, he had become both physically and emotionally strong and believe his faith in God to be absolute. But upon seeing the whip in the Abbots hand, Aiden felt something he had not experienced since he was a child, sweeping the floors of the monastery. He felt fear. He stood up and threw on his robe and as he walked through the halls of the monastery his courage seemed to prevail. But as they entered an unfamiliar room. Aiden's strengths began to retreat as he saw one of his fellow monks holding a set of iron chains and manacles.
The Abbot silently pointed to a place on the floor between two oak posts, firmly set into the floor and ceiling. There was a fire blazing in the hearth in front of him and stepping between the posts, it's heat brought a multitude of sweat beads to his skin. This only added to his anticipation of what would be a living nightmare as the manacles were tightly fixed around his wrists and the chains wrapped around the posts on either side, pulling his arms taught away from his body. He had always trusted the Abbot and wondered what purpose would be served by what he was about to experience. The Abbot gave a gentle nod to the monk, who proceeded to violently rip Aiden's robe from his body, leaving him naked, the firelight reflecting from the sheen of sweat that had built up on his skin.
The whip was made from thin, tightly braided ribbons of leather, with a thin strip protruding from its end. The Abbot handed it to the monk, who uncoiled it and prepared for the delivery of the first of many lashes. Having walked to a small table, he returned with a large, handwritten copy of the Bible. Opening it, he paged through the New Testament and stopping on one particular page, pointed to a single verse. The Lord's prayer. He showed it to Aiden and leaning in towards him, whispered two words into his ear.
"Speak it."
Aiden knew it by heart, but the Abbot held open pages in front of him as part of the process, as though he was to look into a window and upon the face of God.
It was more than a ceremony. The final purging of one's sinful nature was based on the Urielin Order's loose, Gnostic belief that the soul and the body were separate from one another, yet occupied the same space. Anything that brought harm to the body will leave the soul untouched. This idea was seen as justification for the interrogation of those suspected of practicing the black arts. It also justified what was about to be inflicted on Aiden. Whatever sin still remained within him would be purged by the repeated, blistering strike of the whip.
Aiden began the prayer, speaking it aloud. But, with the first few words came the initial burning lash of the whip. Aiden was paralyzed with pain as his eyes widened and his teeth clenched. The Abbot, again, pointed to the verse with a stern expression, he understood. He was to recite the Lord's prayer while undergoing the physical agony of torture. It was also meant as a painful mimicry of Christ's passion, a way of approaching godliness and purity. Aiden struggled to compose himself, to continue reciting the verse. But, his words were interrupted by the second stroke. Then, the third. With each lash of the braided leather, Aiden's body arched backward, his eyes quickly rolling back in their sockets.
It went on for hours as blood poured down Aiden's back. He had recited the Lord's prayer at least thirty times, but his ordeal was far from over. The whip had met his skin repeatedly and his back was aflame with long deep gouges. His legs buckled, leaving him hanging by his wrists. Walking around him, the Abbot examined his back, then waved off the monk holding the whip. Blood had run down Aiden's body and began pooling on the floor. But, the Abbot was prepared. Before retrieving Aiden from his cell, he planted a large knife into the coals the mantles blazing fire. It had achieved a red-hot glow long before Aiden's purging had been completed. He ran several cups of water over Aiden's back, cleansing his skin of blood and sweat. The pain and exhaustion left him near unconsciousness, but he would shortly be catapulted back into wakefulness as the Abbot retrieved the hot knife and held it firmly on his open wounds. The whip's merciless thrashing was slight in comparison to the excruciating fire of a hot knife searing his exposed flesh. But ten minutes later, the bleeding had stopped. Exposed muscle had been replaced by what would become heavy scar tissue.
With the room still full of the smoke from Aidan's cauterized flesh, he was dragged back to his cell and placed, face down, on his cot. He laid there for days, drifting into and out of sleep. The slightest movement brought on an intense flash of pain, making it difficult to perform even the simplest of undertakings. Eating, drinking as well as other tasks that, until now, seemed mundane and routine. The Abbot left him to sleep and heal, regularly delivering food and water to his bedside.
Waking three days later, Aiden carefully got to his feet. His body was stiff and riddled with pain, his mind frozen in a haze of confusion. Raising his arms above his head, he discovered how difficult and painful it was to carry out the simple act of dressing. As he opened the door of his cell, the Abbot appeared and motioned him down the hall. In order to keep the impending scars from stiffening, Aiden would have to endure the further pain of physical exertion, beginning with walking, and for the first few hours, the Abbot walked by his side, ready to steady him should his legs begin to fail. But, Aiden was far stronger than he or the Abbot realized and he walked the halls of the monastery at a strong pace, never so much as missing a step. By the end of the next day, his gait was quicker and only occasionally interrupted by a brief flash of pain. Eventually, it disappeared altogether.