Deus Vult. Володимир Коншин

knight am I, of noble kin,

      I come to seek release from sin.”

      (His words flow smoothly, yet there’s a glint of disquiet in Pastor Ondrej’s gaze, as though he sees through the knight’s polished veneer.)

       Pastor Ondrej

      (with a sardonic smile)

      "Our chapel doors they welcome all,

      Be they humble souls or ones who fall.

      In troubled times, we guide and lead;

      Our Lord accepts each broken creed.”

      (Kazimir studies Ondrej, feeling the unsettling, sharp gaze resting upon him, but remains composed. His eyes wander to the aisle, where a young woman, Anežka, kneels beside an elder, helping them with quiet care.)

       Narrator

      Beside the old, she knelt in grace,

      A gentle hand, a peaceful face.

      Each movement filled with light so rare,

      A soul untouched by darkness’ snare.

      (Kazimir watches, caught off guard by her serene, radiant presence. Something stirs within him—a flicker of awe and wonder.)

       Kazimir

      (murmuring under his breath)

      “What strange enchantment takes my breath?

      What warmth so pure defies all death?”

      (He forces himself to look away, shaking off the strange feeling, but Ondrej notes his interest, a sly smile curving his lips.)

       Pastor Ondrej

      (leaning closer, voice a low murmur)

      “She’s new in town—a novice pure,

      With spirit bright and heart demure.

      A rare gem in a world so grim,

      Yet naïve enough to sway and spin.”

      (Kazimir nods with feigned indifference, yet a spark has ignited within him, unsettling and unfamiliar. He leaves the church, but as he steps outside, the image of Anežka remains vivid in his mind.)

       Narrator

      In silence left, the Pastor stayed,

      Watching Kazimir’s shadow fade.

      His eyes alight, his thoughts fell keen,

      To shadows of what he had seen.

      (The stage darkens, leaving Pastor Ondrej alone as memories stir in his mind, giving way to an unsettling recollection of his first encounter with Anežka.)

      III

      (Late at night, in the church’s damp, dark cellar, candles flicker softly, casting shadows against stone walls. Pastor Ondrej descends the steps, his figure concealed in dim light. He stops just a few paces away from a group of nuns quietly sorting barrels of wine, eyes cast down. Whispers of his true nature circulate in silence, but fear keeps them bound to obedience.)

       Narrator

      In cellar’s dark where shadows play,

      He prowled, a wolf amid the stray.

      With callous hands and eyes agleam,

      He brought forth fear like some dark dream.

      (Ondrej approaches one of the nuns, young and frail, her hands trembling at his presence. At first, he stands near, as if by chance, but soon his eyes transform with a carnal hunger.)

       Pastor Ondrej

      (in a low, scornful tone)

      “Oh, sisters bound by piety,

      Your meekness brings such joy to me.

      So pure you serve in grace so bright—

      Yet here, in shadows, quenched is light.”

      (His hand suddenly grabs her by the waist, pressing into her habit with rough fingers. She recoils, but Ondrej only comes closer, forcing her against the wall. His hand roams, lingering on her chest before sliding down toward her thigh.)

       Young Nun

      (voice trembling, attempting to break free)

      “Please, Father… I beg you, no…”

       Pastor Ondrej

      (with a twisted grin, refusing to release her)

      “Shh, dear child, you serve so well.

      A vessel for His grace to dwell.”

      (He continues his ruthless grip on her body, his hands moving across her legs, making her flinch with fear and revulsion. Tears fill her eyes, but her cries stay locked inside her throat—there is no one here who could help. His face moves closer, the vile smell of wine mingling with his heated whisper.)

       Narrator

      His fingers pressed with cruel delight,

      As shadows deepened in the night.

      No mercy held within his gaze—

      For him, her fear was but a praise.

      (Tears fall down her cheeks, but she dares not scream, her prayers left unheard. Yet just as his hands grew more insistent, a sudden knock resounds from above—sharp and loud, forcing him to pull away, seething at the unexpected intrusion.)

       Pastor Ondrej

      (furious, letting go of her)

      “Who dares disturb this holy hour?”

      (He ascends the stairs quickly, leaving the trembling nun alone in the cellar. At the top of the stairs stands Anežka, bathed in soft moonlight, her face radiating innocence and determination.)