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

The more pious or impatient achieved thesame end with little knives. Meanwhile, the prayer continued.

‘Acceptour repentance and virtuous disgust with Creation. Accept, we beg, words fromvile mouths and likewise meditations from gory hearts. May they be acceptableto you till we rise again to cleaner life in heaven.’

Thesearing heat came again, but only for a second. It was taken as a blessing andapproval. The old man floated erect.

‘Thesecame,’ he gestured at the flattened captives, ‘to poke and pry for their Churchof Christ-crucified. Bestial stumblers from the world of beasts. Take them up,we beseech you, that they may be saved and enlightened!’

Themad sounds returned, even wilder than before, and then ended in sighs ofcontentment. Samuel could only see part way into the eye but it was clearlyseething with light and life; the outer lip of a waking volcano.

‘TheAnabaptists and Unitarians may now wish to withdraw,’ said their master ofceremonies. ‘Our worship shall be rich and full!’

Somesober-suited figures around the ramp, edgy delegates from other denominations,took the hint and took their leave. Trevan recognised one as the Mayor ofBideford. Even chewier food for thought was the fear in their faces and hasteof their feet. Samuel's fate was something they'd seen before and didn't careto relive.

‘Comefeed! Come feed!’ exhorted the floating old man. ‘Relish your enemy'schildren!’

Theeye saw and heard and obliged, flaring with fresh energy. An invisible thing,hot and horrible, fell on Samuel's head. Even in the midst of fighting it heperceived all his companions were similarly assaulted. They thrashed andwrithed against their restraints.

Nowa spider made of burning coals was inside his skull, treading lightly over thebrain; inspecting every Samuel Trevan experience; doing a stock-take and makingan inventory – or menu. Horror or resistance were equally ignored.

Itlasted for both seconds and centuries and then the thing leapt away. An innerSamuel was amused to note pure happiness arrive to celebrate release. Unlikethe 'spider', he was able to brush the silly instinctual emotion off.

Therank and file were less fortunate. However unfairly, they'd had been judged oneof a kind and were devoured in bulk. Trevan felt their thoughts fly by: thegamekeeper, his London men, the soldiers; catching the slipstream of eachlife-story as it was sucked out. He ‘saw’ fleeting images: first childhood andits terrors and consolations, then holy-days and hard work, love and loathing,wives and whores. Even the recent injury to one's hand was relived. Samuelcaught resonances of the stone hammer descending and all that followed. Boththe pain and fear were lingered over and savoured - and then taken.

Noteverything met with approval. Much that might be called fine was left alone orspat out. The feeder did not want to know about the men’s families or affectionfor them. It passed over marital kindness or words of honour kept at cost.Flashes of religious faith caused it to gag as though chewing gristle.

Samueldidn’t know how he could be sensing this; merely that he did. All that they hadever seen and been was passing by in review and the receding tide sometimessplashed him. Only some unflattering references to himself made the ordeal morebearable.

Thefirst speaker presumed to stand (or float) right in the flow of memories andwas lost to ecstasy.

Whenit was done, the victims were left soft and sheep-like, purged of anythingremotely abrasive. They smiled into the ground and were freed fromunderstanding. Men came to lift them up and lead them by the hand, liketrusting infants, to the eye in the wall. Then, one by one, their unresistingthroats were slit and the bodies thrown forward to vanish beyond. The crowdacclaimed each death.

Samuel'sopinion of Wulfstan soared when, seeing the lie of the land, he opted to buckthe schedule. Leaking memories of tough training and the humiliations ofchurl-hood, the engineer struggled to his feet and charged the inevitable. Thefloating man and his guards tried to stop him but were too late or feeble. Witha final - and eloquent - Saxon curse Wulfstan dived into the eye and left theworld behind, still substantially the man he’d been.

Ifhe could Trevan would have clapped. He couldn’t - but fully expected somethingsimilar from the congregation. He was wrong. On the contrary, they howledoutrage and impotent hatred. Samuel then realised how outrageously pious thesepeople were. A minor deprivation to their god outweighed even an inspirationalact.

Theywere not willing to be robbed again. Untold hands rushed to pin Trevan and theWizard hard to the ground. The 'spider' returned to Samuel's head, but waited,merely quivering occasionally in anticipation. He wasn't sure whether to beglad or sad at being left to last.

TheWizard forced his head round to face Trevan.

‘Bye!’he said, brightly. ‘Can't wait! I go from here to a better place.’

‘Plusthey're only saving me the trouble,’ Samuel answered, holding backgrudging regard. ‘I was going to murder you myself.’

‘Likewise,’replied the Wizard, smiling. ‘Never mind. Some other time maybe….’

Hewent noisily and thus Trevan learnt that a magician's life left scars. Markedout by obesity, prone to loneliness, Rome had taught the Wizard things he'drather not know. Then those skills had been put to full use - and not always inthe cause of niceness. All in all, Samuel sensed far more kicks than caresses.Now it had to be relived, right from plump boyhood in Hull to terrible today.Also, he'd lied: the Wizard died a virgin.

Whenall the bad was taken there was little left save residual faith. They took themagical-dampener from around the Wizard’s neck before slitting it, and thendown he went, still gouting blood, slung into the eye.

‘Finaland most favoured, oh inspirer of our disturbance,’ said the foremost speaker,floating close and caressing Trevan again. ‘Who are you? Whence comes your lustto die?’

‘I'mPope Simon-Dismas, baldy,’ said Samuel. ‘Now get on with it.’

Humourwas wasted here, let alone sarcasm. It was less than weightless. It instantlywithered to nothing on meeting the air.

‘Arethere more of you to follow, or will this discourage? Who inspired such follyas to foul our peace? Will you speak or shall our god drag it forth?’

Trevanraised his head the maximum permitted.

‘Ican see right up your nose...,’ he said.

Thatsame nose flared, proving its owner wasn't quite as serene as he made out.However, there was no time for retribution,