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

so final as to demand a hearing. ‘Nopoint. But let's spin it out. We go.’

Whereuponthe magician abandoned all restraint and his companions too, swiftly shiftingfor himself along the directest route away from the foe. Authority wasabdicated back into Samuel's hands and he felt the return of will. The partywere turning widened eyes towards him, not the Wizard's broad back.

‘Follow,’he ordered. ‘For the moment.’

Theyturned in good order and raced back, flowing through the alleged 'abbot'soffice'. The Wizard was awaiting them at the far door. From rearward came thesound of stamping, tapping and booted pursuit.

Thenext room was much like the one before, if less thoroughly ravaged.

‘Theabbot's chapel,’ said Wulfstan, self-indulgently usurping the deceased Cook'srole.

Hewas probably even correct, though they had little enough time to check that.Nearby was a double bed, newly vacated by the looks of it, with silken - thoughobscenely fouled - sheets. A marble dildo, likewise stained, lay on the pillow.At the far end was an altar, now drowned in innumerable layers of thick blackand red gloop. Atop was a fine, gold, 'Whore-of-Babylon'; the naked ladyherself astride a six-headed, cock-studded, steed. At any other time it alonewould have been an answer to Samuel's dreams, once melted down and resold. Nowit was just a taunting part of the furniture, useless even as a barricade.

‘Closethe door,’ ordered the Wizard, who now seemed just amused by it all, ‘and I'llweld it shut.’

Trevanwas chuffed to note nobody move.

‘Doit,’ he seconded. ‘Let him.’ They obeyed.

TheWizard was too far gone to register the slight. As soon as the barrier wasswung in place he span his podgy hands in faster and faster motion round wherea lock ought to be. Singing rapid gibberish to himself he then tied aninvisible knot.

Itwas a solid door and muffled the sounds from beyond. They could just about hearthe approach of heavy strides. Then silence fell.

Suddenlythe door blazed white. There was the smell of flash-fried meat. The previouslyheard ‘famished roar’ was repeated, carrying on further up the scales to conveyagony.

TheWizard's smile failed to convince himself, let alone anyone else..

‘It'lltake two, maybe three, goes from a padfoot,’ he admitted. ‘But nomore….’

‘Awhat?’ asked Samuel, feigning mere curiosity.

TheWizard didn’t/wouldn’t hear.

‘Andthey've raised up marool: those'll sneak in somehow.’

‘Isaid 'what'...,’ Samuel repeated.

‘Constructedmen,’ the magician spat, impatiently. ‘Indestructible. And a Padfoot's onlypart this-world. If you're taken they say it-....’

‘Enough!’ordered Trevan - and the Wizard complied. They had sufficient problems to handwithout inciting imagination to make more. ‘So, we move on?’

‘Ishould.’ His old adversary no longer sounded much interested. He'd obviouslymade his own calculations. Samuel added that to the charge list: he'd nopatience with despair.

‘Column:to my lead,’ Trevan commanded. ‘Stragglers: you're on your own.’

Thatwas only fair enough and they set off with morale brittle but intact. It evensurvived a second thunder-crack and glow of light from the door behind. Thistime the yowl of pain was less prolonged.

‘Striketwo. One to go!’ said the Wizard (in-between puffs), in mock-merry voice.

Praisebe, there was an inviting avenue of escape, a corridor opposite the sealed butbuckling door. They took it and pelted down the ensuing route. It curved backand forth like a serpent and was paved with mummified body parts. They trodthem into dust underfoot.

Therewas no notice of the door's surrender, only the return of the pursuers' song.They were clearly both fleet and familiar with the way, for soon acclamationcelebrated each sighting of their prey. The corridor's convolutions made theglimpses brief, but they were gaining and grasped every chance. A lucky first shottook a soldier away from all his present woes. Another stumbled over him andhad to be left behind.

Theycould have saved themselves the shame of such callousness. Wulfstan was nolonger keeping count but around four-score gasping paces on, harsh geographybrought the curtain down on their writhings for life. The path passed through ahigh arch and then ended, protruding a few pointless feet over an abyss. Samuel- just - skidded to a stop.

‘Cack!’

Hisheartfelt comment on fate journeyed into the void - and was met with laughter.Down below flared into abundant light.

Trevanhad been to the opera - once. It was in London, with Mr Farncombe, back in thedays when Samuel was still trying to impress. He recalled little of the ordealsave being in the dark, perched high above the action, wondering how on earthhe'd come to this.

Thatmemory now returned.

Beneathhim, a great audience had gathered for this final act and every face was turnedtowards Samuel Trevan.

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

cHAPTER 36

One soldier, nobler thanany of them, said ‘Oh, sod it!’, fired his last pistol into the crowd,and then followed that up with his body. Both struck home, both caused injury,but produced only hilarity from the unafflicted. They then applauded him as helay broken and expiring on the hard ground.

Meanwhile,above, the rest of the invaders allowed themselves to be taken - at the verymoment their mission was fulfilled.

The1702 expedition had been successful. Spectacularly so. Nothing remainedof the area where the high altar once stood, save for a smooth scoop out of thefloor to mark the cleansing explosion. Deep and matching scars in the walls andhigh ceiling testified to its force. Those who came after had been obliged tobuild anew rather than pervert the old.

Trevanand co. were hauled back from the ledge by humans: ordinary lookingWest-country folk bar their hot eyes. The weirder members of the hunt weredrawn off by rough orders, to cavort and howl their frustration in thebackground. Samuel was thankful for that if nothing else.

He'dconsidered a last stand and all the clichés about selling life rather thangiving it away, but the moment passed. They'd seen how far that got theirpredecessors. When it came to it Trevan found he preferred little hope overnone.

Theothers were taking their lead from him again and so went along with beingabused and bound in ropes that shone with grease and other things. The Wizardhad some kind of amulet put round his bull-neck and instantly an indefinablepart of him was snuffed out. The threat of sorcery being put to rest, the enemyvisibly relaxed. Then those captives saying their prayers were particularlybattered.

Theretranspired to be a quick way down to the underground cathedral; a concealeddoor just a short