‘Ah, yes, study.’ Elfgar leaned over the manuscript, coming close to her. She could smell him, a kind of sickly milkiness under the dirt stink. ‘You’re not very good at it, are you?’ With a slow, obscene gesture, he put his finger in his mouth, drew it out wet, and held it over the page.

‘Please,’ Aelfric said hastily. ‘You’ll ruin it.’

‘So what? It’s only scribble.’

‘It’s hours of work. I’ll go to Dom Wilfrid. I mean it.’

Elfgar snickered. ‘Dear old Wilfrid. It’s a long time since I heard a harsh word from him, I can tell you that. But then he’s so ashamed.’

‘Ashamed? Of what?’

‘Of what we give him, and how he longs for it.’

‘Whatever it is you want, Elfgar, get it over.’

He stepped closer, so that milky stink was even stronger. ‘Why, do you think I’m here to hurt you, novice? Not at all. I’m here to help your frail little soul. It will do you good to eat a little less each prandium, and hand over the rest to me and my brothers. It will speed your way into Heaven to work a little longer in the fields in the hours of opus manuum, while I and my brothers doze. You see? That sort of thing. And just to prove how sincere I am, I’ll freely give you a little of what Dom Wilfrid so longs for, in his cold and lonely cell.’

The others rushed her from either side. Before she could raise a hand they had pinned her arms and spun her around, and Elfgar pushed her down so she sprawled over the table, belly-down over the precious Menologium. She struggled, and was punched in the back hard enough to wind her. It took only heartbeats. Obviously these brutes practised their moves.

The sudden violence in this place of learning was shocking.

And when they had her pinned, the others yanked her arms over her head, and Elfgar fumbled at her habit, dragging it up over her legs.

She understood. They were trying to tup her - even thinking she was a boy. So this was how they exerted their power, even over poor, confused Dom Wilfrid.

But she was no ordinary novice.

‘You can’t do this. You’ll burn in Hell!’ She thrashed and squirmed. Her reward was another punch, this time in the nose. Her mouth filled with blood. Elfgar ripped down her pants and kicked apart her legs. He fumbled at her, and she felt the hot tip of his prick pushing at the cleft of her buttocks.

Dazed by the blow, confused, she tried to think. Perhaps if he used himself up in her arse, she could still get out of this with her secret intact, and no worse than a bloody nose and a sore backside.