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

He'd obey the first part of theinstruction - but as to the second….

Whatall-pervading revolution would it require, he puzzled as he descended the WhiteHart's stairs towards the street and freedom, to no longer be yourself?

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‘Ohno, not now, Carol. For God's sake, woman!’

Samueljust wanted to get home, to lock the doors, load his gun and drink tea. The lastthing he needed after a whole evening spent with outlander maniacs was to beaccosted by the local madwoman.

‘Itis!’

Shortspeech followed by silence was the last thing he expected of her. Trevan wastaken aback.

‘Whatis?’ he asked.

‘Forhis sake,’ she answered.

‘OhChrist!’ Samuel shouldered her aside and walked on up the High Street.

Mad-Carolwas well known in Lewes. She sang nonsense all day long in never-ending privateconversation, but was harmless enough save when she stole. The Justices had givenup whipping her out of pity and exasperation. She slept with anyone for abrandy - and sometimes not even that. The nuns at St Anne's tried to take careof the young woman but they couldn’t cure her wanderlust.

‘Ohyes: for him too if you like,’ she called after him. Trevan half turned.

‘Look,it's late and it's cold, Carol. Just go away before I-....’

‘Listento me, vermin.’

Thatwould have stopped him in his tracks at any time, but her voice had alsochanged. Turning completely, Trevan saw she'd let her eyes go golden.

‘Ah...,’said Samuel, understanding all.

‘Ah...,’Carol mimicked, and smiled. ‘Yes indeed. They wish to speak.’

‘‘They’?’he queried.

‘I'monly half-breed.’

‘Isee.’

‘TheirAmbassadress to Sussex.’

‘Whowould have thought it?’ Samuel wondered whether he should bow.

‘Notyou for a start.’

‘Noranyone. Where?’

‘TheLong Man.’

Samuellooked up and down the High Street and despaired at the stupid powers of habit.In the present context did it really matter if someone saw him consorting with Mad-Carol?

‘When?’

‘Whenever.They will see you arrive.’

Whatother options had he? Samuel nodded. ‘I'll be there.’

Mad-Carolsniffed the night air, a street-beggar looking into realms Mr Trevan, gent.,was excluded from. And yes, sure enough, here was yet another one who knewSamuel’s future better than he did.

‘That’sright,’ she agreed, finding but not sharing the desired picture, ‘you will.’

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

cHAPTER 6

‘Ugh!’

Itwas as though the Elf had encountered a bad smell. He'd emerged from WindoverHill and the ‘Long Man’ at speed, only to fall back before the fullSamuel Trevan experience. There was no opportunity to enquire how he passedthrough solid ground or whatever lay beneath the giant hillside chalk-figure.His present difficulties seemed too great to even permit conversation.

‘Sorryif I offend,’ said Samuel, insincerely. ‘I'll wear more cologne next time.’

Thearrival certainly looked like Samuel's previous saviour and enricher, but gaveno sign of recognition. Trevan had to concede that in their aquiline perfectionthe race tended to alikeness. Accordingly, it might well be someone else. Whichwould also explain his immunity to the hand of time. Whilst the Elf tried tocompose himself, Samuel idly wondered what their womenfolk looked like and whyone never saw them.

‘Itis because,’ gasped his companion, recovering by sheer force of will,‘they can grow partial to lesser breeds' carnal vigour.’ Greater control returnedwith every word and the usual disdain was clawed back. ‘Such as your own, forinstance. Alas, that perversion is easily acquired but hard to remedy. Wetherefore seclude the she-elves, restricting their options to each other andour own cool flesh.’

‘Isee....’ Despite his heavy burden Trevan could not help but be intrigued. Heeven overlooked the blatant trespass in his mind. Accordingly it occurred again

‘Murderthat infant notion in its cradle, human. Even your proximity would cause themgross haemorrhage in those parts which most attract. Any Elf-mate would gogangrenous in minutes. I am hardened against you by spell and experience, andyet still I suffer. You have got worse.’

Tobe fair, it did look as though the Elf was afflicted. Sweat poured off him(though clearly not designed to) and he had to filter his words through akerchief pressed to his nose. That gradually grew sodden as golden blood seepedthrough.

‘Presumably,’Samuel tried to assist him, ‘that's due to this future everyone's on aboutgetting closer.’

‘Presumably,’snapped the Elf - and then started to gag. Trevan allowed a pause for him tothrow up, though nothing came of the retching. There was time to look aroundand be reassured by Wilmington village and priory, their closeness andnormality. The winter sunshine did them both favours, enhancing their rusticcharms.

‘Well,anyway,’ said Trevan, ‘you wanted to see me....’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’That knocked Samuel back. He'd just assumed that they were there to spoon-feedhim the solution to his problems like last time. He frowned. ‘But yourAmbassadress said-….’

‘Youwished to see us. We pre-empted you. Excuse me asking, but would youmind retiring a pace or two?’

Samuelobliged and the Elf's hacking cough immediately abated. Each step away alloweda better view of the Long Man’s chalk outline extending far above them.For a moment Trevan imagined this encounter as a bird soaring over the Downsmight see it: two tiny figures at the feet of a giant. He found thatperspective helpful.

‘Youknow that they've found me,’ he said.

‘Yes.’

‘Whichhas brought back all this future business….’

TheElf took the air and heaved again.

‘Yes.’

‘Well,what are you going to do about it?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Ah...,’said Samuel. Collapse of stout party.

‘True,we did not foresee their dedication. It was envisaged that you would live outyour life in untroubled ease. Pardon me again.’ The Elf turned aside to spitout an unpleasant taste. It evidently proved impossible. ‘However, we werewrong. Yet confidence remains that they have left it too late. You are old now.There is not enough time to pivot history round you.’

‘Thankyou.’

‘Whatfor?’

‘Itwas sarcasm, skinny-ribs.’ Samuel deliberately stepped forward, causing the wetkerchief to be gripped tighter still.

‘Ohyes,’ came the muffled response. ‘I know: 'sarcasm'. Strangely enough,we can't master it. Yet it's the one vermin trait I rather like. Please goback.’

Trevanobliged once again, but only because he needed to hear more.

‘Atthe very least you could tell me things!’ He hated himself for the desperationin his voice.

‘Suchas?’ asked the Elf.

‘You'rethe bloody mind readers: sodding well read!’

Likewise,he couldn't help but shout. The sound crossed Windover hill and the sheeplooked up at them.

Hemeant the invitation literally and expected it taken up. Trevan lowered allguards and reserve, wondering if this was how his mistresses felt justbeforehand. Which was not a nice notion to be framing as he detected silkenElven enquiry stroll through unmanned defences.

‘Gracious,human; that was easy. You were