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

a window into…elsewhere. It showed a world of black factories and smoke, of roads and haste.And little else besides.

‘Theimage will be brief,’ said the Elf, who seemed to have problems holding itstable, ‘since it is far off. Mark it well.’

Trevandid. No one could call it a pretty scene by any means, but it looked likepeople were improving themselves. Samuel saw a go-ahead, prospering,sort of place and he wanted to see more, but the picture soon faltered anddied.

‘When?’he asked.

‘Well,that rather depends on you - and your dangerous energy.’

Thereply was prompt enough but unsatisfactory - and wilfully so. Only elder-breedcunning forestalled an angry follow-up.

‘This,’said the Elf, hurriedly, ‘will be clearer, because closer. Look.’

Areplacement view, indeed crystal clear, showed a room Samuel knew well. MrFarncombe was at ease in his parlour, in his shirtsleeves, washing Roman potterysherds and far from prepared for visitors. When an ashen-faced Mrs Farncombeshowed the Sicarii in, her husband's jaw descended like a trapdoor.Introductions brought only basic recovery and the terrifyingly friendly soldierhad to step forward to shake Farncombe’s dripping, drooping, hand.

‘Abrighter prospect, I think,’ said the Elf, sweeping the vision out ofexistence.

‘Forme, anyway,’ Samuel specified, almost daring to hope.

‘Thatwas my meaning. For the present it is you that counts.’

‘Soyou say. Is that it or do I get a third question?’

TheElf shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘Iwant to know who still thinks of me.’

‘Surprisingpeople,’ came the laconic reply. ‘But that is not what you mean. You want thosewho think warmly of you.’

‘Isuppose....’

‘Two.’A blunt answer, drawn from lengthy Elven scenting of the air. He looked to beseeking out spoor from the ether. ‘I find just two sticky lines of sentimentsearching you out.’

‘Who?’Again there was the pain of hope.

‘Oneis your vermin-mate. 'Mel'... Melissa? She is ardent. Must Iprobe for detail? It is disgusting for me.’

‘Don't.Who else?’

‘Aparent or mentor. 'Mar'? O' Mar? His spark is fading butcurrently fixed on you. He is due to depart. Was there some promise made tohim? By you? About after his death?’

Samuel’sstomach lurched. Acid abounded.

‘Therewas.’

TheElf sniffed for particulars.

‘Hethinks of it in hope. He meanwhile worries about you. Also, he is recallingsome foreign city.’

‘Willhe last a week?’

‘No.And I warn you: though he yearns for it you must not go to him.’

Samuelthought about that - but not for long.

‘I'lljust have to miss him then.’

Sobe it. That was the way the world was. Trevan told himself pragmatismoutweighed sentiment and was - almost - consoled.

‘Presumably,’the Elf said, amused, ‘you believe you'll meet again in your… ‘afterlife’.’

‘No.But I'll raise a statue to him in Lewes.’

Again,the Elf tuned in to a private transmission.

‘Thatis not what he wants.’

‘It'llhave to do. I'm not arranging things I don't believe in. Masses won't serve hissoul or memory. Better he should be remembered in the real world….’

Deliberatelytrailed bait. But because he didn't care what men thought the Elf didn’t takeit.

‘Thenour bargain is fulfilled,’ he said.

Samuelwas thinking of all the things he could have asked. But the chance was gone. Nopoint begging. Let it go.

 ‘Yeah, reckon so. Sorry about the... youknow....’

Heindicated the wounds he'd inflicted and, with a nod, the Elf implied they werenothing. By now it was nearly true.

‘Myactions postpone the future and I thereby heal myself,’ he said. Samuel couldnot be bothered to comprehend.

‘Well,thanks for everything....’

‘Ohno, thank you, vermin,’ said the Elf - and seemed to mean it. He forcedhimself to touch the human and they thereby parted.

Samuelfound he welcomed the return of normal colour and shade, even if knowledge ofthe Elf's unseen presence detracted somewhat. He decided to assume that thatproblem - like so many others apparently - was speedily removing itself.Happily, the treasure hadn't followed suit. He sped to lay tight grip on it.

Fora moment he basked in the renewed warmth of the sun, and likewise his revivedgood fortunes. Then Samuel Trevan squared his shoulders against the world andwheeled his cart down the main avenue of megaliths, into Avebury and the yearsto come.

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

Somedays later he met a girl there, whilst out studying the stones. She proved asinterested and informed as he, and likewise in a holiday mood. It seemedauspicious.

Upto then he'd been on tenterhooks, standing sleepless guard over his hoard tillthe promised Elf contact arrived. When he did, Samuel's red eyes learnt thatElf and human blood could prove an unhappy mix, blending faults from both. Thestunted, corpse-cold, banker had no greetings, no conversation, and hebargained hard. When he and his armed servitors left, consistent to the endwithout a smile or farewell, Trevan held a thrice-checked draft in his favour.It was for more than he could spend in one lifetime, even trying hard. Samuelthen slept the clock round, dreaming of celebration.

Inconsequence, this chance-met girl was just the ticket: curious, easy-going andgood company. Just like him it was her first day off for ages; a break fromdrudgery at a nearby big house. Her being Welsh explained away the strangeaccent and reverence for the past. Few local girls would choose to spend theirprecious free time studying old stones. Ever cautious, Samuel looked long intoher sloe-eyes but glimpsed no gold. Then that prolonged gaze decided it forthem both.

Backat his lodgings he had her three ways, and then they had claret andguinea-fowl. Then they did it again as dessert. To himself, Samuel brieflyqueried her inventiveness and noisy delight, but put that down to her originstoo. The ‘Cymric arts of love’ were acclaimed by men of the world throughoutChristendom. Even procurers for the harems of the dual Caliphs had heard ofthem. So it seemed only natural when for whole moments at a time she wasrampant and bestrode the wild frontier of strumpet-dom - but without evercrossing over. A certain fragile innocence to her was the tart sauce on top.

Theonly shadow over their encounter came with dusk and the girl's naturalmelancholy at thoughts of an early start to skivvying tomorrow. She'd got justa day off whereas Samuel was starting a whole life off.

Whatremained of Trevan’s good heart was touched just as his grosser parts had been.He brushed back the black curls drooping over her moon-face, and for once therush of impulse was not opposed. It was only the first of many such he couldnow indulge: