The Two Confessions John Whitbourn (best books for students to read txt) 📖

waving it in the general direction of the criminal'schest. That should have been deterrent enough. Meeting Samuel's fist ended hisbrief and petulant thoughts on the subject.

Then an elbow jab and an agonising boot to thevulnerable shin area greatly reduced the interest of two more guardians ofmarket law. Finally, since it didn't seem fair (as the injured party) tolikewise anoint the bread stall man, Samuel dismissed him with a 'Boo!'to his frightened face. And that seemed that.

He was armed now with the fallen Watchman's gun, butmade no move to use it. The field was his to quit. Around him the circling mobdrew back. There was even some applause. Samuel looked at the grinning faces andrealised his mistake. He'd hadn't come to London to earn this sort of approval.He imagined other faces - and two in particular - observing.

‘Onsecond thoughts,’ Trevan told his adversaries, both sleeping and shrinkingvariants, ‘I'll keep my dignity: you keep your bread. I'd sooner starve.’

Theloaf was spun at its former owner and thudded into his chest, causing him tostep back - his favoured direction at the moment.

‘And...sorry.’

Sosaying, Samuel dropped the musket, having first disabled it by wrenching outthe lighted cord. He turned to go.

‘Idon't think so.’

Itwas the Watch-officer's first utterance and had horrible confidence about it.Whether he was doubting Samuel's apology or departure or both was unclear. Whatwas certain and relevant was his pistol aimed at Samuel's head.

Hewas a drinker, his face told that much: but presently in passable control. Hemight even be a jolly man when not borrowing the Grim Reaper's eyes, as now.

‘Ohyes, certainly,’ the man laughed, perceiving and answering his target'sunspoken question. It was kind of him to confirm he would shoot. Samuel lookedand believed.

‘Formettlesome gentlemen such as yourself,’ said the officer, his business armnever wavering, ‘we go that extra mile. Special care. So that you can goextra miles for us….’

Theworst elements in the crowd guffawed and started to make rowing motions.

************

‘Lookon, boy: store that sight in your mind to tell y' grandchildren.’

Therewas only one person Samuel wished to sire descendants from, and here, mired inthis slough of fortune, he didn't thank people for reminders of her. So therickety old soldier's attempt at conversation went unanswered. Unfortunately,the man’s lonely home-life led him to persevere.

‘Still,a well-set-up bruiser like you, I s'pose you'd rather be out there in the thickof it.’

Furtherfailure to reply would be downright insulting. Samuel forced himself to think,studying the view.

Heknew that, over to the west, Reading was ablaze. It had been a smoke-pallagainst the sunset and now a faint glow by night. Lesser lights orbited it asnearby villages went up. Guard duty on London's walls provided a nicely distantview of the Leveller insurrection dying in flames.

‘Idon't know so much,’ Samuel answered eventually. ‘Not having killed anythingmore than a rabbit it might not be to my taste. Besides, death himself isstriding round out there: it's not all one way. I can't be doing with too muchdanger: I've plans to fulfil first.’

Theold man was obviously impressed, taken aback by an honest reply. That wasn'ttoo common in the not exactly elite City Watch, especially now its betterelements were drawn off into the Thames Valley Crusade. Samuel would havejoined them but for the ten year term binding him. That had been the pricedemanded for escaping a galley rowing-bench; the local commander's way ofretaining a few handy types at his disposal. 'Set a thief to... well, youknow the saying', was the way he put it as Samuel put his signature to thecontract. It was a bargain and a kindness really. Mediterranean galley slavesrarely outlived their sentence.

‘You'vea good heart, Trevan,’ his companion informed him, still staring out at theholocaust that would end the campaign. ‘Don't lose it. Carry on just as youare. I've raised men up and laid men low in my time, and I've no doubt which'sbetter.’

Samuelturned about. The sentry duty was dragging, and nothing was going to happenanyway. The fiery horizon told him that: the rebels were beaten, and he onlyhad the squalid Watch barracks to go 'home' to. He was overdue some humancontact.

‘Ididn't know you had family, Walter. Someone said you were all alone.’

‘Iam. I lost 'em in a shipwreck off Morwenstow - that's down Cornwall way, I'mtold - back in '63. The wife and all my little 'uns perished.’

‘I'msorry.’ Samuel hefted his heavy musket and shifted footing on the parapet.

‘Sowas I. People said wreckers done it, holding out Judas-lights to draw 'em in. Iknow they do do that down there, but not to a troopship I reckon. Where's thesense in that? A mountain of risk for a mole-hill of gain: that's the way Ireasoned. Leastways, I never went looking for revenge.’

‘Probablywise, Walter.’

‘Theywere coming out to join me, see; so for a while I held me-self responsible. Iwent a bit mad I think, looking back.’

Samuelcould have left it there, employing the distraction of cannon fire from behindthe wall. The great bombardment of Reading's defences, titanic but too far offto be heard, had ended at dawn that morning. Then came the assault. Thereforethis must be the Westminster Citadel's salute to victory. Although London hadcontributed men and ordnance to the fray the stay-at-home remainder had feltleft out and so now let rip with zeal. Street revellers in Whitechapel cheeredeach cannonade. It all merited an easy comment about rear echelons' lust forblood, but Samuel left it unsaid - and thus changed his entire life.

‘Imight have stayed in the Bosphorus, if they'd made it there.’ Walter hadn'teven heard the gunfire; all his attention was long ago and far away. ‘But theydidn’t. So I came back home.’

Samuelhad heard of the place, courtesy of Father Omar. It was mission territory, asexotic and obscure as Australasia.

‘You'rea dark horse, Walter. I didn't think you'd set foot outside London.’

Besidehim his colleague swelled with pride, though his eyes were still beholding lostfaces.

‘Me?I did two tours with the Knights of Rhodes, boy: just as an auxiliary, ofcourse. One more and I'd have got my plot of land. In another world I'm tillingthe Bosphorus soil, not stuck here. One of me sons - well, grandson maybe -might have