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

Theywere moving at a jog now, a perilous pace on an ill-lit unknown route. Severaltimes men fell and half stunned themselves. They were granted a few seconds torevive, failing which, as Samuel put it, it was 'best o'luck' time. Thatincentive seemed to aid recovery. There was also need to ignite new torches asthe originals now guttered low. In that pause and brief absence of the sound oftheir own feet and laboured breath, they heard heightened screams from thepursuit. They had discovered their dead children.

Thelucifers flared and replacement torches burst into life. Samuel had themthrow the old ones back up the corridor. Combined, they made a decent, ifobviously failing, barrier of flame. Trevan recalled reading that wild animalsdidn't like fire. On the other hand brute-beasts didn't fabricate and carryknives either - but it was worth a try.

Quitehow much so was proven seconds later when a oversized example of the foe leaptundaunted over the blaze. Fortunately, it proved to be alone. The rearwardsoldier shot it full in the face and the dead or dying creature toppled backonto the likewise expiring torches. It sizzled briefly, and then ignited in a whooofof noxious gas.

Philosophershad long speculated that the demi-demon races predated Man and were examples ofGod's earlier, less loving, handiwork. Certainly, this type seemed to be moreinflated sausage-skins of life than close-knit muscle and sinew. There were(feeble) aspects of cheer in that.

Inthe absence of any other encouragement, Samuel seized upon it. They had sparetorches for just one more renewing of the light and were emptying theirbrace-of-pistols-each too fast. Plus they were unlikely to be granted a respitefor leisurely reloading.

‘Theydie easy, lads,’ he told all, when echoes and smoke permitted. ‘Save yourbullets: use blades.’

Thatwas easy said but even he didn't relish letting the things get closer than needbe.

Theypushed on at increased rate and the corridor enlarged into another library –kind of. Someone had nailed the monastery Bibles, works of great art and age,higgledy-piggledy to the walls. Everyone noted it but there was no time foreither rage or rescue. Nevertheless, the message got through.

Nextcame eruption into an even greater hall. The centrepiece was a huge thronewhich looked secreted rather than made. Bright orange pelts (Samuel spared asecond to ponder those...) and rough cuts of meat were spread before it. The'symbol' was everywhere, in every medium.

‘The‘scriptorium’, I think,’ puffed Cook, who really was earning his keep.‘'Tis usually found near the abbot's rooms.’

Asqueal of elation banished such scholarly thoughts. At the doorway one of theorangey warrior breeds had caught up.

Onesoldier returned and screwed a seax deep into it. The squeal produced was soondrowned by some internal flood. Then, from out of view, a stone hammerdescended to shatter both human hand and knife. Fortunately, help was nearby toput a shot through the doorway and deal with the offstage threat.

‘Away!’said Samuel. ‘Column to me.’

Theinjured man, clutching his jellied paw, rightly expected no allowances to bemade. Stoically quiet, if deathly pale, he rejoined the ranks as Trevan tookthem off at reckless pace. They sprinted round the empty throne and offerings,up to the end of the hall and, mercifully, straight to a way out. Behind, inthe returned darkness, they heard the arrival of the hunt.

‘Abbot'soffice,’ said Cook, again locating them. Even in these circumstances hecouldn't subdue the tone of professional pride. It was then Trevan decided whohad definitively won the contest and was top-dog engineer. Wulfstan failed tomuster even a dismissive sneer.

Ina presumed spirit of mockery they'd retained the abbot's desk, and thenre-employed its fine surface to sacrifice things on or use as a latrine.Sandwiched between those layers of cack and gore and coin Samuel noted thefamiliar Bible-nailing statement again and, what was extra interesting, somemistreated maps.

Stillmore fascinating than those though, were the shots directed at the column. Twoof them, quite distinct, more like musket-fire than pistols. Both missed, butnot by much. Trevan's first thought was to speed away, his second thatdemi-demons did not use firearms. The third spiralled him straight back to hisfirst: namely that bunched torch-bearers in the dark made a lovely target.

‘Aboutturn,’ he shouted. ‘Skirmish order. Crab’s claws. Fire at will.’

Itwas untried formation but worked well. Strung out in line they presented lessof a barn door to aim at. Also, the extreme left and right soldiers, at thevery fringe of illumination, could edge along the walls and maybe deal outunexpected blows.

Soit proved. Three more shots followed in their direction and junior-engineerCook, so full of promise, became also full of lead, dying silently. Yet itwould have been worse were they still grouped close. Samuel was then pleased tonote his side’s reply via powder flashes from either side of the chamber. Agrunt and thud from beyond the doorway tokened reward.

Bestof all, Trevan found he’d had it with being chased about. True to form,he decided to seize the moment.

‘Forward!’he said. ‘Kill!’ It sounded good.

Italso took the opposition by surprise. Samuel heard a panicky debate (with linesfor both man and beast) from just out of sight. The toss was still being arguedwhen the human wave hit them.

Samuelwas first through and used his remaining pistol on the rank orange body heblundered into. Accordingly it went away . Then, stumbling over one of itsfellows and treading into the squishy body, his outstretched knife encounteredresistance which shrieked and flinched. He was dimly aware of others hackingwildly to either side. Two more shots were fired nearby. Samuel looked up andsaw a corresponding number of monsters lifted up and flung away in ruin. Thenthe chain of reflex actions was jarringly broken. Suddenly there was nothingpressing to do: they had won. Five bewildering seconds of flurry had gainedthem the door.

Trevanwondered if the more practised soldiers experienced it thus, or whether theycould impose sequence and sense? Nevertheless, he still felt he'd done wellenough for a first outing, all things considered. However, fresh challenges nowarose: like seeing an enemy stream away from you in flight. That was anintoxicating sight and temptation to rashness.

‘Holdfire,’ Samuel ordered, trying to sieve the excitement out of his voice.‘Except... except for that one.’

Hepointed to an apparently man-shaped musketeer scampering off into the gloom ofthe 'scriptorium'. By