I'd like to thank the readers who waited patiently for this chapter. Your encouraging words are much appreciated.
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As daylight faded, rain clouds were gathering. Marna peered through the warped glass of one of the ancient cloister's many windows as the deep dark clouds rolled in. These clouds usually brought thunder. She hoped that her mother and father, who were riding back to the family farm to the south, wouldn't be caught out in poor weather. Even so, Marna liked summer storms.
Marna knit by the window in peace. One of the nuns, Sister Ursula, sat across the wide hall mending a robe sent up from the priory down the hill. The Culrose Monastery was actually made up of two cloisters. The priests and monks dwelt in the more recent cloister and church down the hill, and the sisters kept the old cloister higher up past the treeline. No one who passed the church would know of the old cloister, hidden in the pines. It was a safe place, and Marna always felt comfortable there.
The sisters kept the ancient place from becoming a ruin. It was a holy place; as long as it remained standing it would be a home for these women. Marna had lived among them for over a month, but she had yet to talk to all of the sisters at length. A few of them seemed very shy indeed. Sister Margaret, the abbess of the small nunnery, was always friendly but reluctant to engage Marna in any lengthy conversation. Marna's curiosity regarding Sister Margaret grew as this distant treatment continued. During the rare glimpses of eye contact Marna received from Sister Margaret, it seemed that something was in the air. Something was left unsaid.
Marna thought about all of this while she continued knitting. Eventually she tired of the tedious activity and rose from her window seat. She would need to get some sleep before conducting her nightly trip to the secret library. She feigned a yawn and a stretch.
"Good night and God bless, Sister Ursula." Marna said before leaving.
"And you," Ursula replied, "God bless and rest well."
Marna retreated downstairs to the quiet sanctum of her room. It was comfortable enough down in the cellar, but often more than a bit cold. Marna felt relief as she found a bath had been drawn for her in the stone tub sunk into one wall. Steam rose from the hot water, waiting to warm Marna's body. Marna closed the door to her room and removed her robe. She shivered as goosebumps rose all across her flesh. She stepped into the tub, relishing the feeling of her cold skin meeting the hot water. Submerging her obscenely voluptuous body into the water, Marna let out a hefty sigh of pleasure.
Marna had, before coming to the abbey, gained unnatural amounts of weight in mere months. As usual, The Devil had been blamed for this aberration of the flesh. Nothing holy could come of a girl with a body that would make grown men go mad with lust at the sight of her. Marna hadn't merely filled out, she had become an unearthly pillar of sexual magnetism. Her breasts stood out like two massive orbs, just waiting to be tapped by hungry mouths. Her hips and buttocks were plump and wrapped in the tight white silk of her flesh. All this rested on Marna's still-slender frame, giving her proportions that were simply uncanny. Marna's own mother had balked at the covetable nature of her daughter's newfound curvature.
Marna was about to pour another ladleful of water over her shoulders, when she felt eyes behind her. She spun around in her tub to find her room empty. Still, the fact that she wasn't alone was clear to her somehow. She crouched down into the tub as if to hide her nakedness from the empty room. Marna continued to scan her room with wide eyes for several minutes, certain that she was being watched. She relaxed in a sitting position in the tub and continued her bath slowly, warily. The unseen presence would not leave her.
Marna decided that if some spectre haunted her during her bath time, there was nothing she could do about it. She stood and let the water drip from her body, and the feeling that she was not alone only intensified. She felt her cheeks blush in her timidness and could not help but turn her body away from the room. Marna caught herself doing this and giggled. Her flesh bounced deliciously as she laughed, as if her body were one great bubble just waiting to pop.
Eventually Marna decided that her mind was playing tricks on her and finished her bath. She dried herself and brushed her long golden hair while sitting naked on her bed. She found her flour sack under her pillow and checked it to see if it contained enough candles to last a few hours. One great big tallow remained. She examined it and decided that it was good for at least four hours. That would have to be enough for tonight, Marna decided.
She pulled her robes about her body and wrapped them tightly closed. A few of the sisters had fashioned some special robes for her, and she could not help but notice how they hid the contours of her body very well. Marna teased herself that she looked like a fat old nun when she wore the robes; but they were very comfortable and warm.
Marna had become accustomed to the stairs and hallways within the old cloister and was able to make her way through them silently. She was also familiar with all the usual noises that the place made while it was sleeping, and so was not surprised by any of them. Sometimes she wondered what a few of the noises were, but she decided that since they all happened almost nightly, the noises must be perfectly harmless.
Tonight, there was the added rumble of distant thunder. Marna managed to close the hallway door silently as she made her way out into the middle of the cloister and across the gardens. A sparse rain was falling, but Marna knew that it could turn into a great summer shower at a moments notice. She hurried through the garden quietly to the other wall. Once inside, she began her twisting, turning route that snaked through a decrepit part of the cloister and into the northern tower. Once within the shelter of a stairway, Marna pulled the cover off of her lantern and let the candle within light her way. This was the way she came to the secret library every night.
Down in the undercroft, Marna was nearly there. A stairway that lay cleverly tucked between two pillars led upward again. This was the only way in or out of the room that had become a storage for some of the oldest books Marna would ever see. She set her lantern down on a small pedestal and pulled her hood back. It was always so comforting to her to be there, alone in the bowels of that old place. To Marna's knowledge, Sister Mira was the only other person who knew of this forgotten library. Since showing Marna the way just over a week before, Marna hadn't heard Sister Mira utter a word about the place. It seemed that it was Marna's home away from home for the time being.
Above her and far away, thunder sounded across the valley. Down in the stone walled library it sounded even more ominous to Marna. She shivered. Then a sound met her ears that made her shiver more violently. Someone was walking through the undercroft below.
The footsteps rang out loudly and echoed off of the ancient limestone arches. Whoever was coming made no effort to do it quietly. Marna backed away from the blackness of the doorway and watched as the glow of another candle lit the walls of the passage outside. The flame came into view as the bearer mounted the steps. Shadows were thrown here and there, but ultimately the light from the large candle revealed that it was carried by none other than Sister Margaret herself. She entered the small library and stood just inside the arched doorway.
"Good evening, My dear." Sister Margaret said with warmth that surprised Marna as much as soothed her. "Please, don't stand on my account. Sit, child."
Marna found a seat on one of the squat stone benches that rose from the floor and folded her hands in her lap. The room was lit quite well now by both her candle lantern and the large beeswax altar candle that Sister Margaret bore. Even so, the Abbess took to producing more candles from the folds of her robes and setting them in small sconces on the wall. These she lit until four more lights bathed the books and Marna's anxious expression alike in warm, golden candlelight.
