The Two Confessions John Whitbourn (best books for students to read txt) 📖
- Author: John Whitbourn
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‘So,they were coming back from down there,’ he went on, pointing. ‘They might havealready achieved their aim. We're no longer wandering blind: we can follow andsee.’
Thatpassed for good news in the present context and the column reformed withslightly enhanced zeal. Samuel wanted them too occupied for wondering how theymight prevail where elite troops hadn't. The march recommenced, scrunching onskeletons.
Onesand twos of the long dead dotted the succeeding corridor, some still tangled innow eternal combat, but within sixty paces they petered out. Then the onlysounds were muffled boots and the tap-tap-tap of Cook's inkstick keeping count.
Finally,there was another aspirant-cavern like the one they'd just left. Death wasthere also, but in a manageable single dose. One of the demi-demons theykept meeting in effigy form was here in the – recently live - flesh. The corpsewas nailed to a cross and inappropriate scriptural analogies occurred to mostpresent.
Itwas therefore a relief to look beyond that and see a set of broad stepscommence their descent in the far corner. Alongside were more of the upwardsnaking burrows, complete with hot pork aroma, but they barely detracted fromthe discovery. There seemed no other exit from the chamber and thus their wayforward was clear.
Itremained clear for all of five seconds. Then the burrows excreted a tumblingmass of problems. Troublesome choice returned.
Thecreatures arrived in silence, providing scant notice by the scrabbling ofclaws. It was when they hit the floor and boiled forward that the screamingbegan. Every circular mouth, brimful of needle-teeth, emitted the same pipingsound and the human party was deafened. Fortunately, there were no orders todrown out just yet, for Samuel was thinking.
Theywere a rabble, landing in knots of skinny limbs - and undisciplined as well,fighting each other to arise and get at the enemy. However, they had numbers -the burrow shafts continued to discharge them in a torrent - and animal speedbesides. They soon filled the ground with milk-white bodies and reaching hands,blocking the way to the stairs.
Samuelhad seconds to decide whether to fall back or fight through. For the moment hismen stood, although shocked, but that might not last. Whatever the case, thehell-chorus was too loud for complicated instructions; he had to lead byexample.
Thecorridor they’d just traversed looked empty, even inviting. It might just leadback to daylight via a fighting retreat into the days to come. Ahead wereopposition and the unknown. It wasn't hard to choose. Trevan charged forward.
‘Tome!’ he shouted, but might as well have saved his breath. No one could hearhim. Though they could hardly miss his advance or the flash of his gun.
Thebullet caught one creature square in the chest, throwing it back and knockingthose behind down like skittles. That dissuaded them for a space, even carvingout a brief interlude of quiet. Then the shooter followed his shot, stabbingwith a seax. Two who felt it liked sharp steel as little as the rest of God'screation and went off to reconsider. Amidst his preoccupations, Samuel got thenotion these things had grown unused to stout resistance.
Trueor not, they were up to seeing one man off, and soon sprung back. He was at theextremity of torchlight and so saw everything distorted by shadow. Whereastheir saucer-eyes, fringed by incongruous long lashes, surely harvested everydrop of light and beheld him clear. Also, Samuel was alone and they werelegion.
Trevan'scomrades watched him drop the first few; they noted the pause and then therecovery. Each had their own inner debate. For a brittle second it might havegone either way, but then they formed column and forged in his wake.
Awhole volley of shots shoved the beasts aside like the strong arm of Jehovah.Something akin to that same limb, though the Wizard's own creation, pinched offtwo heads. The victims ran around awhile, spraying their fellows withorangey-green ichor – though without provoking undue dismay. Samuel found spaceto wonder what other sights had so inured them to horror. Gunfire increased themad noise to pain level as powder smoke obscured the scene.
Therewas the narrowest window of opportunity to pass. The soldiers' blades dealtwith dazed survivors in their way and then the path to the stairway was clear.Samuel shepherded the column along, startling himself by his officer-qualitybehaviour. They had to shift fast. A new breed were coming down the burrowsnow: the same shape but visibly more mettlesome. These had an orange tint totheir hide and carried flint knives. They looked at Trevan and gibbered theirhatred.
‘Teamof two,’ he told the rearmost men. ‘Hold the stairhead.’
Tohis amazement they obeyed him, not even protesting when he slipped past.
'Cheerio,' he thought. Army-bred blind obedience did have its uses.
Theirsacrifice gained the rest a whole minute - maybe two. Samuel practically pushedthe column down the steps. From behind he heard pistol discharges, then tumult,then quiet. It lasted long enough to inspire high hopes but then was spoilt bythe distant rattle of clawed feet. They were coming.
Atthat low point Samuel realised he'd been mistaken: that they didn't reallyknow the way. A downward route had just been their provisional objective.Happily, there was no time to lament.
Thestairs ended in another landing. It extended way out into darkness, hinting atvast expanse. The right-hand wall was studded with little stone-built cubicles,most likely the confessionals where monks had come to admit theirclutching-at-straws sins. They would have made good cover from which to ambushtheir pursuers, but for some obscure reason Trevan didn't want to take refugethere.
Acorridor bisected the row of boxes and Samuel led the way to that. He thoughtit was probably the course of greater wisdom to just keep moving. An ambushmight mow down the first few waves now hammering down the stairs after them,but there was no way of knowing how many more came in their wake. Samuel had avision of infinite reinforcements pouring from the burrows like ants.
Inany case, it transpired that the 'confessionals' were already occupied. Somedemi-demon offspring, little spindly creatures on tottery legs, came out toinspect the visitors. Their presumed nurses, obese and myriad-breasted variantsof the males already seen, waddled after them. Any remotely in the way wereslashed aside with knife or
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