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

the signs of present occupation slowly dawning on eventhe dullest of the team but, visibly at least, no one wavered.

Itwas another big room, not as cavern-like as the one they'd left, but stillabove torch range. Its function leapt out at them, even if nothing else did.Those parts they could see were lined with shelves. Books and bits of bookswere everywhere, some stacked neatly while others, grossly tortured, laywounded on the ground. Samuel edged forward under the cover of guns to sample thewares.

Theworst treated were the oldest: he found only loose bindings and stray pages ofthose. He didn't trouble his scant Latin to discern precisely what they'd been.Some of them were likely original monastery stock, like the beautifullyilluminated capital he found actually nailed to the floor. Another, morerecent, tome, a translation of Herodotus, looked like it had been shot through;probably after the addition of childish obscenities. Someone had spenthours drawing crude (in every sense) stick figures on every page. Samuel wasabout to hurl it from him when he recalled their location. The travesty wasgently – and silently - replaced.

Yet,for all the wild anarchy wreaked on some of the stock, Trevan found othersections to be fastidiously arranged. He examined one such and discovered everywork one could wish for (and more) on ornithology. Another gathered togetherall that Jane Austen had ever written, including editions only a few years old.They looked well thumbed.

Samuelhad been brought up to revere the printed word, and that remained with him evennow when much else was lost. All the same, the wantonness of this assembly, itstedium and perversity repelled him. He felt the urge to burn it, preferablyalong with its owner. Which, for once, was no vain daydream. In presentcircumstances, he might actually get to indulge the desire.

‘Someone'sbuggered a good library,’ he told his team, and left it - and the ‘library’ -at that.

Acrossits expanse, in the corner of the northern wall, there was a smaller door. A'team-of-two' was sufficient to hit that and reveal a small office, recentlyvacated. The disorder there was more personal, though not so great as in thelibrary. A selection of volumes on a desk looked intended for reading, notviolation. There were pens and ink and candles. On a nearby trestle table wasset an array of flasks and glassware and botanical specimens standing ready inpestles. An enquiring mind had clearly lingered here not so long ago.

Glanceswere exchanged at this definitive proof of company, even as the fact wasswallowed. Samuel allowed himself a certain gladness that that hurdle wasfinally crossed.

Heobliged himself to finger through the selected books. He found pornography andtheology in equal measures. Neither appealed. All the stationary - old, heavy,cream paper - was blank.

Thepersona of the missing tenant loomed closer when Trevan observed his soldiers'distraction. On one wall were framed prints of Zeus enjoying gross indecencieswith stableboys. Samuel marvelled at his men's priorities and relentless basictastes.

‘Nevermind that. Team of two: the cupboard.’

Theydealt with said small side door. Something flew out and a soldier shot it. Theexplosion sounded like the voice of God, its echo travelling out of the room toreverberate all round the cloister-cavern.

Thoughonly self-trained to speed and commitment, Samuel's response almost gothim in on the act. He had to give conscious orders to his gun arm to standdown, his trigger finger to relax.

‘Teamof three, outer door. Wizard, to me.’

Foronce the magician just obeyed. He and Samuel stood over the now dead thing. Thesoldier's reflex-action pistol shot had opened up its chest.

‘Is...was it a man?’ Trevan realised his lip was curling in un-authorised disgust. Heregretted the concealing powder smoke's swift dispersal.

‘No.’The Wizard was cheerfully confident. ‘Men have faces.’

Itwas an unanswerable point. This creature, otherwise plainly human in itsnakedness, had nothing but a bland stretch of skin where features ought to be.

‘Analtered man then?’

Again,the Wizard shook his heavy head.

‘Nope.Demi-demon. This type is known, though rare. Domesticated, they can serve asguardians.’ He tested the chain and collar round the thing's bull-neck. Thesilver link led back into the 'cupboard', its former home.

‘What?’Samuel queried. ‘With no eyes, no ears?’

‘Theymanage somehow. No one knows how. Its kind are rarely caught to make autopsyof. They kill and kill for delight, like foxes in a chicken-run. Those fingerscan penetrate a steel helmet - and the skull beneath. I don't recall an Englishsighting for decades, but the Druze country is currently plagued with themapparently.’

Samuelintended to explore its den but first glimpse of rag-clad bones and middens ofthe creature's filth served to dissuade.

‘Footsteps!Half a dozen - approaching.’

Therearguard’s call was appreciated but hardly necessary. A thunder of heavy bootsfrom beyond the door was audible to all. It at least killed what seemed likeendless echoes of the pistol shot.

‘Andfire: torches,’ another sentinel added, more calmly.

‘Standand prepare,’ Trevan told the men at the outer door. ‘Remainder: half circle!Fire at clear targets on my order only.’

Formen up against the unknown, in the dark and under threat, they were alllaudably smooth. True, all the noise was enough to waken the dead, removing anyelement of surprise they might have had: but Samuel had an inkling they'd lostthat some while back. Any discouragement was counter-balanced by thevindication of his team. Like Gideon he'd chosen few but better. There wasjustification in them pressing on and down - if they were spared.

‘Insight - just,’ said the furthest man, balancing his pistol over a steadyforearm. ‘It's men – or men-shaped. Moving fast. I could get oneabout... now.’

‘Holdfire,’ Samuel maintained.

‘Wisemove, boss,’ said one of the old London hands. ‘They're ours.’

‘Whoelse would it be?’ said Trevan, dismissively. ‘If it is, let 'em in.’

Apprentice-engineerCook and his minders got a welcome back and were visibly glad to be there.Hearing the gunshot had set the seal on their loneliness and they'd hastened toassist - or at least share the general fate.

Trevanbriefly let them satisfy their curiosity. The dead thing was leered over andprodded. Then he cut through their whispered chinwag.

‘And?’

Cookrose to the challenge. He could imitate the sound (if not substance) ofcommand.

‘Yes,’he confirmed. ‘This place is the same layout; or near enough. We can use myplan.’

‘Therefectory?’

‘Right,yes, we found that; amongst other things.’

‘So?’

‘Amess: centuries of cannibal feasts by the