Little Martin fainted at the time of the third lash, but the torturer had done five lashes to the letter, and he was carried back into the house, and when it was time for evening prayer, he was set up again—the daily chorus was absolutely indispensable, and the prayer to atone for the sins of wrath—a light form of punishment that prevailed in monasteries, specifically the person being punished fell to the ground with his jaw on the ground, and one stood before him and recited the scriptures, and the one who stood sang a sentence and the one who fell prostrate joined together.

Some people may think that although this is not as comfortable as lying in bed, it is also more comfortable than kneeling and sitting. Rod thought so, too, but when he had really tasted the pain himself, he didn't feel at all that the monks and priests were groaning without disease—lying on the fur, straw, or plank, which was nothing different from the hard, cold slate, and before you could sing a hundred verses, the cold air seeping from the ground would soak your bones, and every joint of you would weep bitterly from being in one position for a long time, and when you sang the verses, your jaw rubbed against the ground, and every time you breathed, The weight of your body tortures your chest and lungs - and at the end of the day, there is no one to support you, and the tortured priest or nun cannot stand up on her own.

Martin. Lud fainted again, and when he was awakened again at the time of the night prayer, he started to get hot, but fortunately he was a strong young man, and persevered, but he was shocked to find that the vial he had hidden in his pocket was missing—he only had such a vial, and it had been given to him by Brother Desi from his share, and neither its miraculous effect nor the teacher's favor could be stopped, so he did something stupid—to Joshua, whom he trusted. Cardinal Lovere appealed and appealed the matter.

Cardinal Lovere Jr. dealt with this matter with great speed and in a way that was not unjust – according to Cardinal Loveré Jr., all the judges were like monks, living in a huge open barn, lit day and night, so that no one would do anything blasphemous, but no one saw Martin's vial, and no one admitted that he had stolen, so that everybody, yes, including Martin, was subject to divine judgment.

One by one, they had to walk over the burning coals.

If it weren't for the fact that they had to walk a lot every day and have calluses on their feet, many of them would have become disabled, but no one blamed Cardinal Lovere Jr., for even though he lived in the dean's room, alone, he persevered through the coals, and everyone poured out their anger on poor little Martin.

Especially after he took out the pill bottle - but Martin. Roeder must say that this is Cardinal Lovere Jr.'s compensation, the problem is that no one believes him.

As a result, apart from the necessary exchanges, almost no one talked to Martin. Rude spoke, and he was alone every day, as if he had been invisibly excommunicated.

Only then did little Martin know that loneliness can also be said to be a harsh punishment.

As mentioned earlier, when there is no work to be done, their life is exactly the same as that of ascetics, tending to vegetable patches, tending to livestock, copying scriptures or doing handicrafts. Rude likes to go outside, whether it is to grow vegetables or feed the horses, because in the room, no one talks to him, but it is better to go to the vegetable field, to the stable, he can talk to the butterflies, and he can talk to the horses.

"You're so small." On this day, little Martin was half-kneeling in the turnip field and said to a pink butterfly, "When God created you, there must have been no materials." He held out a finger and compared, and sure enough, the butterfly was no bigger than his fingernails.

Immediately, he heard a loud and forcibly suppressed laugh.

Little Martin blinked, laughter came from behind a row of eggplant stands, he crawled over curiously, pulled the curling branches of the eggplant, and he saw a face that was not pretty, but vibrant.

"Who are you?" Martin couldn't help but ask.

"Bola." The girl replied, "What about you?" ”

"Martin."

"Where are you from?"

"The convent of Our Lady next door," the girl said.

Martin remembered the convent, one of the few convents they hadn't found out what was dirty, and that there was an unusually thin abbot.

"You're a nun...... Martin winced involuntarily as he said this—he realized that he was talking to a nun, she wasn't his sister, she wasn't his mother, and he shouldn't be talking to her.

"I didn't make a vow," said the girl, who had apparently been lonely for a long time, "I don't want to make a vow, my father sent me here, because he didn't want me to get my mother's dowry, and he didn't want me to give me a dowry, so he didn't want me to marry anyone but God." She smiled: "God does not want a dowry, but I do not want to marry God, so I will not be able to have children." ”

Martin knew that he should not continue listening, and he took two steps back with his hands and feet, trying to get up and walk away, but suddenly from the girl's bosom came a strong fragrance, and he could discern the smell of bread with a lot of fat at this time, and his stomach immediately "gurgled" honestly.

The girl laughed out loud and touched her bosom: "I stole it from the kitchen, it was for your guests, take it and eat it, poor little Martin." ”

As she spoke, she took something and threw it at Martin, who subconsciously caught it, it was a piece of white bread wrapped in grease, only as small as the palm of his hand, and it was still a stolen goods, but for several months, there was no breakfast, only bread for lunch and dinner, bean soup and cabbage, and occasionally little Martin, who had a finger long dried fish, couldn't resist such a temptation, and swallowed it in one bite.

The good taste immediately conquered his tongue and irritated his stomach - after a few grunts, he ...... Hungrier.

The girl couldn't help but laugh, "Wait for me." She said, and climbed out of the eggplant stand, and Martin looked out of the eggplant branches and saw only her stocky back bouncing and disappearing into the ditch.

After only a while, the girl ran back, clutching a handful of salted meat in her hand: "You are so lucky, we have many distinguished guests here today. ”

Martin ate it all.

——————————

Martin. Rude knew he shouldn't go again, but his body was always at odds with his mind, and he went again.

Behind the eggplant stand, the girl was also waiting for him, and she always brought him something to eat, sometimes a handful of salted beans, sometimes a half-melted piece of cheese, sometimes a few shriveled berries, and when he ate the berries, Martin couldn't help but think of the last time he had come to eat from Giulio. What the Medici had in his hand - the bag of preserves, the bag that he had not eaten and had thrown away on the side of the road.

"Why don't you speak?" The girl named Bora poked Martin in the waist.

"Nothing...... Something came to mind. ”

Bora grimaced, "You're not tired of me, are you?" She drew a ridiculous face on the ground boredly: "You are always like this, eating my things, but not approaching me, because I am not as pretty as other girls." You too...... Martin, I thought I could stay with you a little longer. ”

Martin looked back in some surprise, and to be honest, he hadn't even paid much attention to Pola's face—Pola was not a pretty girl, or rather she looked like a strong boy, with a square face, rough features, and thick hands and feet...... Martin grabbed her arm at once: "What's going on??" ”

"The dean's grandmother beat me." Bora said nonchalantly, "Haven't you been beaten by your dean?" ”

"But...... What did you do wrong? ”

"Hungry." "I have three chickens at home, two loaves of bread, a pot of soup, three meals a day—here I have only two meals, only a plate of barley grains at each meal, and God, I am not a hen, and I can eat from my plate, so I try to get myself food." It's nothing, it's just beating and praying, the dean is not a bad person, she just wants to beat the greedy devil out of my body, but ...... I don't think so. ”

Martin looked at Pola's arms, for she had not yet made a vow, she was wearing only a crude linen robe, the sleeves were pulled up, and the criss-crossed marks of the whip were clearly visible, and the whips of the Abbey of Our Lady were thinner than theirs, but they must have been harder, for each of them was wedged deep into the skin, for the old wounds had not healed, and the new ones had increased, so that the girl's arms seemed to be woven of rough bark rather than flesh.

"It's ......" This is not right - this is not the word Martin could not say, but it echoed in his heart, and he was startled by himself, dropped Paula's arm, and fled.

He didn't see Bola's disappointed eyes.

——————————

Martin tossed and turned for several days before going to the turnip field again, and as soon as he appeared, Bora came out, and she pulled Martin to sit down, and took out of her bosom an apple with only a slightly shrunken skin—a fruit that was not uncommon in the Vatican Palace, and sometimes, in Giulio. In the Medici's room, they were kept just to smell the fragrance, and many times, when he saw Martin, Giulio would ask him to get one and eat it, but here...... Martin had almost forgotten what it was like.

He knew it was stolen goods, he knew it was sinful, but immediately he tightened, and his stomach, which was so painful that he almost rolled, was urging urgently, and when Bora shoved the apple into his mouth, he subconsciously chewed and ate it.

Bora smiled.

Without Martin noticing, she leaned against him and grabbed his arm.

Like stealing the apple from the kitchen, she stole a little sweet and warm good time from the young monk.

。 m.