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

space back along the corridor. They stumbled or slid down theramp thus revealed, arriving a third of the way along the chamber's length; atangled, undignified heap to be booted upright and into order.

Thosehot eyes - above hungry smiles - were the common feature, even more sothan the uniforms. Otherwise, the hundreds present looked drawn from everyplace and calling. Samuel spotted the full gamut from workman's cords to silkendresses peeping out from beneath the universal grey gowns.

Theirprevious captors had not followed them down but there were new volunteers inplenty to rush forward and hold them fast. Their hands caressed even as theypinched and gripped.

Thatbrief glimpse from above assisted Trevan to make sense of the scene - and beingtrussed so firmly there was little else for him to do. Towering above all, highinto the vaulted roof space, was the mound of rubble erected where the altaronce stood. A mixture of rocks and carved work, held in a secreted matrix, itrose to a narrow point four or five times man height. Resting precariously atopwas a huge quartz-stone, fashioned into the semblance of an eye. Directlybehind, the same ovoid shape but much magnified, formed the entrance to a cavehollowed high in the far wall. Straining his vision, Samuel reckoned he couldsee the brackets for the former altar-screen all around it. The blank eye nowstared out from where saints and Christ-in-glory once faced the congregation.

Infact, saints were conspicuous by their absence. Either they'd been 'rescued' bythe explosion or else expelled afterwards. Ditto the rood screen and choirstalls and almost every other pious feature. New figures now occupied the wallniches: animals and men or mixtures of the two, rendered in some blacksubstance, engaged in equally black acts. A few, the more honoured in positionand execution, did not indulge but stood in attitudes of serene detachment,extending their arms. Their truncated arms.

Samuelwas naturally fearful of his circumstances: held in multiple grips like a pigon its last walk, and buffeted with anti-blessings. Yet he retained controltill spotting the broken crosses. The central monument bristled with them butmany others, just as mutilated, randomly adorned the walls until lost into themurk above. He'd not seen that symbol treated thus before, not ever, and thoughit shouldn't mean anything to him any more it did. It took that to bring homehow far these people had travelled from normality. More than a lifetime’sjourney.

Ithad been a mighty church once - and still was for a new confession; a veritableunderground Exeter cathedral. The star-map of torches and tar-pots all alongits sides and walls barely lit its extent, leaving only the central candelabrasdescending on thick chains to spread a zone of perfect illumination. Samuelpondered how all had been ignited at once to greet him, and reluctantly dancedaround the answer of sorcery.

Confirmationof that came when, with one accord, the wall of people in front parted asthough compelled by magic. Gliding down the avenue thus cleared thereapproached a stately party of both sexes. They trod the air inches abovethe floor, the pale bare feet not troubling it for support. Calm gazes andbeatific smiles regarded the prisoners all the while, quite unlike the humidyearning of the mob. They differed also in their gowns of blander grey, and intheir want of hair and hands.

Afew others, wearing smoked glasses, apparently lacked sight instead and wereled by the rest – as best their own affliction allowed. These bore before themthe orbs through which they’d once seen.

Theforemost and oldest, a skeletal man, glided straight to Trevan. He gazed intohis prisoner’s eyes and within seconds Samuel submitted. He couldn't standagainst such impossible serenity. It was also unpleasant to note the shrivelledthings strung round the man's neck and recognise them as amputated fists. Mostof the new arrivals wore them. Trevan's head needed to be forced back toeyes-front.

Theold man raised one smooth stump and gently stroked the captive face. He seemedmore loving than hostile.

‘Undiscouragedone,’ he said, in tones of pure Somerset. ‘Sooner than expected one; uninvitedbut welcome guest. We are here for you. Come to wisdom!’

‘Wisdom,’confided another, coming closer, ‘is sweeter than life.’ She might have been abeautiful young girl once, before she was starved and mutilated.

‘Bogomils!’boomed a familiar sarcastic voice from along the line. ‘I know you - and youare Bogomils!’

Theold man’s smile did not falter at all. He travelled sideways to hover inchesfrom the Wizard's face.

‘Correct,’he said, as though delighted with a pupil's leap of reasoning. ‘Just so. Lovingfollowers of Brother Bogomil: or 'buggers' as you see fit to term us.’

‘Forsuch you are.’ The Wizard was steady and defiant. Samuel didn't think he had itin him.

‘Forsuch we are,’ agreed the old man, not in the least offended. ‘Or at least thoseof us who are not yet perfecti. We eschew the flesh of the other god andsow our seed in barren soil. The cycle is thus broken. It is warming that youknow so much of us.’

‘Iought to,’ said the Wizard. ‘For I've warmed many of you. In Rome I hadthe honour to be a Palatine inquisitor. We burnt you in batches!’

Samuelfully expected that would do the trick and send them on by the shortest route.He'd almost welcome it, for this recent news had puked all over his last sparkof hope. He knew of this sort, recalling Father Omar speaking about them (indecently vague description). They were life-haters and numbered amongst the dualists(whatever that meant, but it was something bad - though not people who foughtduels). They were kin to the Cathars, who’d thought this world had no good init (and so were done a favour when crusaders sent them all to the next one).The classification and family tree didn't bode well.

Samueltried to wonder what Melissa might be doing right that moment, so that hisfinal thought might be of her. There were tales of messages being passed thatway in dire extremity....

Meanwhile,the handless man didn't mind at all. None of the floating ones did, nor any ofthe congregation in earshot. They merely smirked or mouthed quiet prayers.

‘Doubtlessthey died thanking you,’ countered the old man. ‘Forgiving you and blessing youfor their release. Is that not so?’

TheWizard's silence admitted the