The Two Confessions by John Whitbourn (good books to read for adults .TXT) 📕

stranding them there. It provoked the pang of regret thatSamuel was told never quite left miners, however long in service.

Hisperceptions were now so skewed that the main thing he noticed was the pump. Yetmore trouble and expense. It was just like its predecessor, all leprous andbesmirched. Samuel could even see into the guts of the machine through holesoozed deep into the interior. It would never work again. Only then did he lookat the people. They were in similar shape.

Onewas well gone, his face and abdomen and loins erased by the same stuff thatafflicted the pump. But for a distinctive neckerchief Trevan would never haverecognised him. Then he noticed some kind of mushroom growths flourishingwithin the ex-man's new cavities and could examine him no more. The pervadingaroma - sweat meets sewage meets cloying sweetness - was now reaching them alland they were glad that the alert had cancelled breakfast.

Thesecond of the engine guards was still with them but plainly on his way. Youdidn't need to be a surgeon to see it. The substance was bubbling away at hislegs, still virulent and vital, releasing little gouts of vapour as ittriumphed over portions of flesh. The man now concluded in a spreading pool.Samuel had to command his own stomach contents back down.

‘Finishhim. Use your knife,’ he told the soldier behind, and then pressed further on,weapons poised. There proved to be not far to go and nothing more to see. Thebarrier remained in place, detectable in invisible fingers caressing the skinplus a whiff of corrupting spice. Samuel backed off from it. Of the third guardhe knew to have been posted there was no trace.

Thedying man was still dying; the selected soldier, blade idly in hand, stillstanding over him.

‘Itold you to-…,’ said Trevan.

‘No,’said the soldier. The refusal was flat and unalterable. ‘He still sees, stillspeaks. You want cold murder: butcher's work.’

Samueldidn't argue. This was a scene and place that could breed mutiny.

‘Moveforward,’ he ordered his companions. ‘Watch the tunnel.’ They were happy tocomply.

Heforced himself to kneel by the fallen guard. Close to him, or perhaps just moreconcentrated near the floor, the stench was worse. Samuel felt its activeingredients sizzling in his nostrils. To his surprise he saw the milk-sopsoldier's scruples had some grounding in fact: the guard's eyes came in and outof focus; he was mumbling. Trevan remembered him now: a great ganglySurrey-hills hillbilly boy: all 'o-aaa's and 'I be's and rusticinnocence: not long in the infantry.

Samuelsought for some appropriate behaviour, dredging back into the days when he wasstill a Christian.

‘Whatdo you want? Shall I get a priest?’

Thatwoke him up. His eyelids shot open, his voice returned. Samuel marvelled at it:a whole swathe of him was already vaporised.

‘Yes!But... no! NO!’ The man ought not to have been able to muster a shout, letalone grip Samuel's lapel. The stout material tore. ‘No priest!’ said the dyingyouth.

‘Alright,alright,’ Trevan calmed him. ‘Suits me….’

‘Icarn't….’

Samuelgently disengaged the clawed hand and set it back down.

‘Can'twhat?’

‘I….No heaven now, not for I. Oh God!’

Itwas better than Trevan had hoped. He was speaking clear enough to derive someadvantage from. The show of charity was set aside.

‘You'regoing anyway. Tell me what happened.’

Annoyingly,the youth could only think of himself.

‘Icouldn't help... so pretty... so ripe. She... he... oh, I be shamed!’

Trevanforced himself closer.

‘Comeon, man; you're running out of time: spit it out.’

‘Ohno! It can't be shriven. That one cries-out-to-heaven, don't it? T'ain't myfault. They tempted I.’

Samuelwas also now subject to temptation; a desire to hoick the whinger up and wringwords out of him. Against that course of action was the realisation that theman had two armed allies nearby, and that down here in this forsaken place theywere all decoupled from the normal world. There was no back-up to his authoritybut himself, no deference but what he could command.

SoSamuel chose discretion: analysis rather than action. Weren't there four - ormaybe seven - unforgivable so-called sins the Catechism said 'cried out toheaven for vengeance'? Hadn't Father Omar once delicately recounted them?Had that been one of the days he'd paid attention?

Samuelwas distracted by the sound of the tub descending. The requested reinforcementswould be with them within minutes. His options were further curtailed.

‘Comeon, come on!’ he said. With luck the soldiers would think he was urging on thetub.

‘Mum?’said the youth - and then solved Samuel's dilemma by leaving the world behind.

‘Hell-bloody-fire!’spat Trevan in exasperation. The uneducated soldiers obliged him bymisunderstanding.

‘Aye,’said one. ‘Too true. That's what were 'ere. That's what he was feared of.’

Thenthey both crossed themselves. For form's sake, Samuel deceitfully joined in.

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

Bythe time they got the bodies to the top, gingerly wrapped in thick shrouds ofcanvas, word had got around. Work was at a standstill and an audience gatheredat the shafthead. Even the Cymric bonded-labourers were craning their necksover the wattle walls of their corral. Trevan's expression discouraged directenquiry but the foremost could see for themselves that the dead men... weren'tthe right shape.

Samuelscowled at the low buzz of speculation and realised he was losing control of itall. Thoughts of 'it all' made him scan the whole mining camp andappreciate just how much he'd undertaken. All these men, all this gear, allthese efforts, and to what end?

Theend of two, maybe three, lives - so far - came the inner answer; not that he'dlose much sleep about them. All via pursuing the end of General Mott'sambitions, and the end of some ancient niggle of the Church and… the end oflove for one woman (and her end too, being honest). That was ultimatelywhere all this came from: clearing his way to her end: love and lust inunspecified proportions. Was just that worth all this?

Hewouldn't always have conceived it in those crude terms. He could have anynumber of women, for money or the asking. So, did it absolutely have to be thatone? Did he really still feel the same way?

Itwas a crushingly dangerous question to pose, but one quality Samuel stillretained was his courage. He was willing to abide by whatever the response. Sohe asked - and received confirmation. Not one faint-heart brain cell failed tostep forward screaming 'yes!'

Thoughfresh returned into daylight, Trevan’s first