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

Samuelhad no more expected this than to be paired with a Mameluke. Here wasopportunity. Having burst beyond his own first horizons he now saw no reason toever limit them again. If knowledge beckoned from nearby he'd seize it, sincethere was always the chance it might be profitable.

Helittle dreamed then how well chosen that word was, or how profitable their idletime-killing might be.

‘So,what's it like out there then?’ he asked.

Waltertried to recollect. It took a while.

‘Goodwheat country, if you're left alone to grow it. And there's plenty room: lotsof ruined places. They say Saxons fled there after Hastings, so maybe thecastles were theirs. We repaired some – had to. ‘Cause you're alright near thecoast or beside one of the citadels: the best and earliest grants of land arethere. Further in you learn to plough with one hand.’

‘A?’

‘Theother has to hold a musket, boy: or a rifle if you can afford it. That's whatthe Crimeans hand out to the Tartars, so they can raid and pick us off fromafar without us so much as seeing 'em. 'Course, them Crimeans, they're clever: advancedlike, for all they're pagan - good with cannon and rifles and such. They churnout more than we can from their wicked factories. And their women bedwith other women and the men drink, only meeting to breed - or so they say. Inever saw none: they always paid the Tartars to fight us.’

Therewas something in that speech that fixed grappling hooks in Trevan’s mind,refusing to go away. At first he thought it was the intriguing allegationsabout Crimean social life, but those images soon palled. Not even a massiveexplosion from Reading-way; a powder store or rebel bastion perhaps, coulddistract him from the nagging thought that he'd just heard something...important.

Finally,when they were checking in their weaponry at duty change it came to him. He'ddoggedly teased out the one useful thread in a blanket of moth-eaten memories.

‘Walter,’Samuel asked swiftly, ‘'fore you go: what is it that’s so special about these… rifles?’

U[U[U[U[U[U[U

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'... therefore plain duty and Christian prudence, if not inclination,requires that I mention, as concisely as may be, of the transmogrifying processapplied to the common arquebus or musket, named ‘rifling’ by those few artisanswho can perform it - hence 'rifles'.

I have not troubled my chivalric sensibilities in undue probing of thisregrettable innovation, but am made resolute by the sad recognition that whatis learnt cannot be unlearnt. The gentleman studying the warlike artsmay meet this ignoble weapon and ought to be aware of it even as he deploresits being.

Evidently, a screw or spiral precisely milled within the projectile tubeimparts additional vigour to the deadly missile. The gun may therefore beshortened and lightened. It can even be reloaded whilst the shooter is prone onhis belly like a serpent. These are the facts, as I myself have witnessed, andthey must therefore be accepted as G*d's inexplicable will.

The trick has been known since Reformation-Devastation times inChristendom, and in the dual Caliphates soon after. In the hands ofgame-keepers and huntsmen (who have excuse to wound from afar) 'rifles' havelong been employed in the control of beasts and vermin - of both the two andfour legged variety. To that extent no cavil may be raised.

The more 'progressive' minded commander may mock me but I stand firmwith the great generals of old in deprecating the distant kill. If life must betaken it should be at eye-to-eye and breath-to-breath length so that themagnitude of the deed is clear. I concede that the time-hallowed bow andjavelin thus also stand condemned, but stoutly maintain that the gunpowderdevil speaks loud as an evil of a different magnitude. The longbow and thespear require healthy brawn and acquired skill in their use, whereas anyill-bred runt may strike down a far-off better with a musket. This 'rifling'development permits a still more cowardly strike and is Satan's shoulderfollowing his cloven foot thrust in the door of our turpitude.

Fortunately, Christendom, save at its crusading edges, has been at peacefor two centuries. Likewise, our musselman cousins, sharers at least in theAbrahamic monotheistic faith, are at an understanding with us and pose nothreat. The European armies are thus well up to their needful tasks withoutrecourse to a sinful 'arms race'.

These 'riflemen' are therefore thankfully few and resort to sniping atunwary enemies from craven concealment. Should one be captured the traditionalexpression of disapproval of their black art is the removal of both hands. Theymay then go a-begging for the remainders of their miserable lives, and thusreform others by example.'

And as for cannon....’

'At the Altar of both Mars and Christ - being an instruction in theethical pursuit of war: required preliminary reading for gentlemen volunteersof sundry Christian nations in the service of His Most Excellent Highness, TheHoly and Roman Emperor Joseph IV.'

ByPascal Gudarian. By grace of G*D, Imperial Commander of the Varangian Guard,the convert Turks and Croat hussars.

BelisariusPress. Constantinople. The year of our Salvation 1933.

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cHAPTER 9

When the first prisonerswere delivered the officer of the Watch was drunk. He usually was well gone bymidday, but Samuel ensured it by baiting the guardroom with a bottle of brandy.It was snatched up, beheaded and gargled down in short order. Soon enough, theshift commander had discovered the secret of the universe and was trying toenlighten his men. Then, worn out by that exertion, he departed to dreamland.

Samueldutifully took the reins. In fact he insisted on it and no one dared argue. Ithad all the appearance of keenness, selflessly volunteering to handle theheadachy business of the Reading survivors. Few, if any, had been lookingforward to this grim departure from the leisurely routine. Up on the rampartsthey observed them coming from afar, despairing human cattle drawn out of thestill burning city. Their regular army and Crusader escorts were not gentle andcareless of what London thought of them. Several times Samuel saw a slow ortroublesome captive dispatched. One whole group was blasted with blue flame bya sorcerer priest and danced for what seemed like ages before they died. Samuelhad the privilege of introduction to that scarred, hot-eyed 'Father Oakley' atthe handover, and got to shake the hand that