He stood beside the catafalque, crossed himself and made the sign of the cross over Brother Deodatus. He gestured to Reynevan to sprinkle holy water on the possessed man. The possessed man, naturally, didn’t react.

“Domine sancte, Pater omnipotens…” The murmur of the monks’ prayers echoed around the star vault. “Aeterne Deus, propter tuam largitatem et Filii tui…”

Scharley cleared his throat loudly.

“Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi,” he thundered, making even louder echoes, “ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem, serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et satanas, ac ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes. Hinc tuo confisi praesidio ac tutela, sacri ministerii nostri auctoritate, ad infestationes diabolicae fraudis repellendas in nomine Iesu Christi Dei et Domini nostri fidentes et securi aggredimur.”

“Domine,” Reynevan joined in on an agreed sign, “exaudi orationem meam.”

“Et clamor meus ad te veniat.”

“Amen.”

“Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio et colluctatione. Satanas! Ecce Crucem Domini, fugite partes adversae! Apage! Apage! Apage!”

“Amen!”

On the catafalque, Brother Deodatus gave no sign of life. Scharley discreetly wiped his forehead with the end of the stole.

“Thus is the prelude complete,” he said, without lowering his eyes under the enquiring looks of the Benedictines. “And we know one thing: we are not facing any old miserable devil, for one like that would already have fled. We must bring out the heavier bombards.”

The abbot blinked and shifted restlessly. The giant Samson, sitting on the floor, scratched his crotch, sniffed, hawked, farted, laboriously unstuck the pot of honey from his belly and then glanced down at it to see how much was left.

Scharley’s eyes swept the monks with a look which he thought was both wise and inspired.

“As the Good Book teaches us,” he said, “Satan is characterised by overweening pride. Nothing else but his immeasurable pride caused Lucifer to rebel against the Lord, so he was punished for his hubris by being cast into the infernal abyss. But the Devil remains prideful! The exorcist’s first task is thus to pique the Devil’s pride and love for himself. In short: thoroughly abuse him, curse, insult and revile him. Calumniate him and then he will flee with his tail between his legs.”

The monks waited, certain there was more to come. They were right.

“Thus we shall now insult the Devil,” continued Scharley. “If any of you are sensitive to coarse language, you ought to leave without delay. Come here, Master Reinmar, speak in the words of the Gospel of Saint Matthew. And you, Brothers, pray.”

“‘And Jesus rebuked the Devil and he departed out of him,’” recited Reynevan. ““And the child was cured from that very hour. Then came the disciples to Jesus apart and said, ‘Why could we not cast him out?’ And Jesus said unto them, ‘Because of your unbelief.’”