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

Sheseemed to register his presence for the first time, and then lithely assumedthe position of her calling.

Disciplinemight have fallen apart there: for wildly varying reasons, but Samuel was equalto the moment.

‘Formcolumn - to her left! Eyes front. Advance!’

Trevanwas last away and looked round at the young woman dwindling back into the murk.She hadn't even noticed their going.

‘Surely,’said the Wizard, calling back to Samuel, ‘we can't leave her behind - ho ho! 'Behind'- get it?’

Thatlittle bon mot sealed his fate. Trevan decided then and there themagician wasn't coming out of the labyrinth. He always knew his quest woulddemand blood sacrifice - and here was a worthy volunteer for the altar.

Whathe thought was 'oh yes, you'll get it alright', but what he said- in tones of silk - was:

‘Sheleft long ago. Only the body remains.’

‘Butwhat a body!’ the Wizard persisted. ‘Our Christian duty surely dictatesthat we-....’

Trevanlevelled his gun at the man's pumpkin head. Only the magician's backward glancebeheld.

‘Bequiet please,’ Samuel told him.

‘Youwouldn't!’ The Wizard looked again. ‘You would.’ His tongue was stilled.

Fortunately,their march-for-marching's sake also took them somewhere, so there wasn't theneed to backtrack. A good-as-anywhere corridor led out of the dorterarea and Trevan had them take it. He shouldered his way to the front.

‘Downand west, you say?’ Care was exercised to airily address both competing guides.

‘SoI reckon,’ answered Cook, quickest off the mark. ‘We're looking for somestairs.’

Inlieu of that direct route they had the diversion of some rooms. Every so oftenand in the twisting and turning of the way, the corridor broadened out intochambers or whole interconnecting suites. Some were marked with the ‘symbol’ orsprayed with fetid colour; one or two even held dusty parcels of disconcertingshape - but principally they were void. The expedition was now accustomed tothe prevailing decor and passed without prying.

Until,that is, the Wizard just stopped beside one door. His sheer bulk blockedthose following. One ringed forefinger was held aloft as though he was gaugingthe wind in this stagnant place.

‘Thereis... history here,’ he pronounced. Then, seeing his audience were unimpressed:‘Past things of relevance to us.’

Samueltrusted the man’s thaumaturgic judgement, if little else.

‘Right:front three: corridor ahead. Team of three to the door. Wizard and engineers tome. Rest: about face: corridor behind.’

Thedoor responded smartly to rough treatment and the delegated man rushed in.Since he then continued to live and breathe, Samuel and the Wizard followed.

Firstimpressions were of an armoury, but second thoughts deemed it a museum.Military technology didn't exactly race along in a world free of major wars forcenturies past, but trends and improvements did come and go. The most casual glancecould tell these stacks of muskets and side arms were archaic.

‘Ithink we've found the 1702 boys.’

‘Orthe booty from 'em.’

Samuelrealised he hadn’t been party to this exchange. The two soldiers who spoke werehaving a military-only chat and appraisal. Up with that he would not put.

‘Amountsto the same thing,’ he said, butting in. ‘What good's a soldier withoutweapons?’

Theydidn't like it - but didn't rise to it. Accordingly, he felt able to throw thema bone.

‘Inyour judgement: how many? And were they reused?’

Thetwo did a quick audit.

‘Armsfor four-score, I reckon,’ said one.

Theother bent down and selected a gun at random. A dust-flood and flakes of oldrust fell from it.

‘Andthat answers your second question,’ he said.

‘So,’Samuel asked, ‘this accounts for all of them?’

‘Nearenough. Except it don't tell us how far they got: just how they fared at theend.’

‘Butthere's no bodies...,’ Trevan's cavil was half-hearted and easily shot down.

Oneof the soldiers stepped into the role of spokesman.

‘Thesewere papal troops,’ he said. ‘So this stuff came off ‘em after death. Noother way: not with them. Somewhere there should be a mountain of those theyslew beforehand.’

Heturned out to be a prophet. Mere minutes and a few more turns of the corridorseparated them from the aftermath of battle.

‘Hellof a do!’ said spokesman soldier, smiling in appreciation.

Samuelwas no expert but saw what was meant. Events had literally brought the housedown. The corridor had always widened into chamber-size here, but great gashesin the walls extended it further. There'd been a bad roof-fall and the rubblefrom that now formed a compacted mound. Everywhere there was bones; scatteredabout or in groups. Some protruded from the collapse material. A small percentagewere still covered in cloth of faded red.

Courtesyof a little thought and some wandering round, Trevan reckoned he could even seethe flow of things. They'd fought their way back here; a rearguard had triedand failed to hold the far corridor. Then they'd been assailed by vast numbers;as many as would pack into the confined space - and more. Their perimetershrank steadily: Samuel noted the tidemarks of resistance in tightening circlesof dead. Finally, there was a last stand - and the defiant suicidal dischargeof a powder barrel or some such. Judging by its effects on solid rock, that hadswept the place clean of either side.

Then,after the thunder of the roof's descent, there must have been silence: avictory of sorts for those who would never know. Samuel idly wondered if thattriumph only existed now there were witnesses to it. Try as he might, hecouldn’t deny a swell of pride in his plucky species.

Forthis hadn't been a purely inter-human struggle: the adversary bones wereplainly... other. They might well be akin; roughly the same stature, feigningsimilarity by flickering torchlight, but they weren't the real deal. Also,those who'd come after had visited their race-hatred on the human dead, nailingbodies to the wall in demeaning postures. Vestigial smoky-red tunics still hungthere, but the owners had long since escaped, liberated in skeletal form to thefloor.

Samuelwas returned to the present by the sounds of muttered prayer. Some of thesoldiers were on their knees, commending the souls of the fallen (or leastwayssome of them) to eternal rest. The Wizard was with them. Wulfstan and Cook, inagreement for a change, both stood aloof. Engineers and suchlike lowlymechanicals were widely reputed to be infected with scepticism.

‘Alright,settle down,’ said Trevan, just loud enough to interrupt. ‘That's enough ofthat....’ He couldn't really afford to cause offence but there was a time andplace for piety.

Gradually– though finishing what they’d