The Man who Missed the War (43 page)

By early March Gloria was as fit again as she had ever been,
but as the month wore on both she and Philip became increasingly silent and worried. Neither spoke of it to the other, but both could hardly get it out of their minds for a moment that at the end of the month the annual visit of the Dog was due, and that on that night thirteen more of the little people whom they had now come to love would be taken.

On the afternoon of the day Philip got out his rifle and began to give it a good clean. Gloria came over to him, laid a hand on his shoulder and said: ‘Must you, Boy?’

‘How can I help it, my sweet?’ He took her hand and kissed it.

‘You’ll go up to the plateau and wait there?’

‘Yes.’

‘I felt sure you would. Well, I’ll be coming, too.’

He began to protest, but she laid a finger on his lips. ‘Be quiet now, my own one. What would I do by meself here? If you have to die I’d much rather die too. I just hate to leave my babies, but I’m not really worried for them, because I know that they will be cared for by all our little friends and never really miss me. But I couldn’t go on without you.’

No more was said, but two hours before sunset they left the Palace and set out together to defy the Power of the Dog and its mysterious masters.

As they walked along the track between the small fields and vegetable plots that they knew so well, the countryside looked very peaceful, and it was difficult to believe that, within a few hours, it would be ravaged by an animal which had the qualities of an almost mythological beast. Yet the inhabitants had not forgotten that this was their age-long anniversary of dread, and they were already hurrying home to barricade themselves in and hide as cunningly as they could in the hope that they might once again be among the many who survived and not among the unfortunate few who were taken.

Every one of the little brown men who they passed gave them greeting and either warned them not to stay out late that night or urged them to go back to the Palace there and then; and they all asked after the children. In every case Philip and Gloria promised to take care of themselves, and, although neither of them spoke of it, both of them had the thought that never until this evening had they realised how greatly they had come to be loved and honoured by the Little People. As they walked on past the lake where the waterwheel now lay silent, they began to talk of more plans they had in mind for increasing the well-being of their subjects; yet, somehow, deep down inside them, they both had the feeling that they would never pass that way again.

In spite of that and the unknown qualities of the terror that they were about to face, they felt little sense of fear. Instead, they were filled with a highly nervous excitement. It was as though the valley and all their interests in it were a chapter of their lives which was ending with the setting of the sun, and they
had no more power to postpone its end than they had to slow down the solar system. Ahead of them they sensed a danger far worse than any they had ever known before, yet they had the strange conviction that, if only they could surmount it, they would at long last really find their way home.

By the time they reached the little plateau the long March twilight was deepening. Sitting down they unpacked the cold supper they had brought with them and ate it; then they took up their positions for their watch. To sit with their backs to the cliff track up which they had climbed seemed to invite being driven over it backwards, should the Dog charge them, so they chose a spot at the extreme right of the plateau where they could crouch with their backs to the cliff yet enfilade anything coming out of the entrance to the pass. Prince Fedor had left behind him some sixty rounds of ammunition for the rifle but they were now reduced to four rounds in the automatic, so it was agreed that Philip should do the shooting and Gloria should come to the rescue with the pistol only if his rifle shots proved ineffective and he was hard pressed.

For an hour the darkness was very black, then the moon came up. They knew that they would not now have very long to wait, as both their own experience and the tradition of the valley agreed that the Dog always began its man-hunt shortly after the moon rose.

It was very still there and suddenly Philip caught a sound. ‘Listen!’ he breathed, touching Gloria on the elbow.

She nodded, having heard it too. Very faintly at first, but gradually growing clearer, the notes of a weird music were wafted to them, and Philip felt sure that it came from the type of panpipes of which he had seen two specimens.

The music continued to be soft but was now quite close at hand. They crouched at the far corner of the plateau, straining their eyes into the semi-darkness. The moon was only a sickle and, while the great patch of black shadow that marked the entrance to the pass stood out clearly, the first movements within it were difficult to see.

Suddenly a number of figures seemed to detach themselves from the blackness and stand forth quite clearly in the moon’s silvery light. Four flute players headed the procession, then
came a great palanquin, or covered litter, carried shoulder-high by eight stalwart bearers. After this came a second and a third litter, similarly borne, and the rear of the procession was brought up, not by
a
Dog, but by thirteen great dogs, all whimpering and straining at leads that were held by thirteen tall and powerful men.

The flute players halted and ceasing their music turned about. The palanquin was set down, its curtains parted, and a tall dignified figure stepped out. The other two litters were set down in the background, but no one emerged from them. The dogs were brought forward, and the man who had come out of the palanquin made a sign to one of the dog’s keepers, who leant a little towards the great beast and was evidently just about to undo the leash from its collar.

Philip saw that he dared wait no longer. His bad leg was good for a few steps if he took them slowly. Carrying his rifle at the ready, he gave a loud shout and advanced a few paces, followed by Gloria.

The heads of every one of the strangers instantly turned towards them, and as Philip limped forward the man from the palanquin came to meet him. When they had approached to within a few yards of each other they both halted. Philip was six feet in height, but the man facing him was considerably taller. He was dressed in a white robe with a black pattern on it, and it was not until Gloria was within a few feet of him that she realised that it was made of penguins’ feathers. The robe, which hung slightly open, disclosed some brightly coloured woven garments beneath it; a hood of the same material covered the stranger’s head, and the moonlight glinted on the jewelled earrings that dangled from his ears. His skin was a reddish-brown, his nose hooked, his chin firm, his lips thin. It was the proudest and most cruel face that Philip had ever seen.

Suddenly the man spoke, but in a tongue which they could not understand and which had not even a resemblance to that of the Little People.

Philip replied in English, and Gloria tried the language they had learnt down in the valley; but he evidently did not understand a word of either. With an impatient shake of the head he beckoned them forward and, as he turned to lead them towards
his palanquin, gave a sharp order to the man who had been about to unleash the dog.

As the man again put his hand on the mastiff’s collar Philip shouted: ‘Hi! You there! Stop that!’ and by waving his own hand from side to side he tried to indicate that the man should ignore the order he had evidently been given.

Their leader turned and stared. The man with the dog just glanced at Philip, then took no further notice. Philip raised his rifle and aimed it at the dog, at the same time calling: ‘If you let that dog go I’ll shoot it!’

Obviously none of them understood either Philip’s words or his gestures, or, apparently, the purpose of his rifle. The man released the dog, and it bounded towards the path that ran down the cliff. Philip squeezed the rifle’s trigger. There was a sharp report that echoed round and round among the stone crags. The dog leapt into the air with a howl, crashed to the ground just on the edge of the slope, whimpered for a second and lay still.

Lowering his rifle, Philip turned back to the leader of the strangers, trying to express by a lifting of his shoulders that he was sorry he had had to shoot the dog but had seen no alternative.

The man did not speak and he made no threatening gesture. He simply looked at Philip. His eyes were jet-black, and beneath brows drawn together in imperious anger they sparkled with sudden malevolence. As Philip met the glance he found that his own eyes were fixed and held. He could no longer look away from the stranger’s eyes, which now appeared to him like balls of red fire. The eyes grew larger and larger. Philip felt as though he were being drawn towards them and must plunge headlong into those two great blazing pits which were rapidly merging into one. He felt his knees go weak, his rifle slipped from his hand, and he fell fainting to the ground.

When he recovered it was still dark. He could feel a gentle jogging motion, but for the moment he had not the least idea where he was; then, as memory returned, he realised that he was in one of the big litters that had been brought to the plateau by the strangers. As he struggled into a sitting position he felt a movement beside him and heard Gloria whisper:

‘Boy darling! Are you all right?’

‘Yes, I think so.’ He found her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘But what happened … after that devil looked at me?’

‘He looked at me, too; but only for a second. Just long enough for me to know that I’d have no chance at all if I tried to shoot him.’

‘What happened then?’

‘He jabbered at his servants, and they put you in this carrying wagon thing. They signed to me to be joining you, so I hopped in quick before they could say different, because I was scared to death of what that witch-doctor man might have done to you. When I found your heart and breathing were all right I thought I’d be taking a peep at what was going on. The moon coming through the chink in the curtains showed me that this thing is full of camp gear: tents, cooking utensils and all that. It’s some tents we’re lying on now.’

‘Did they do the filthy job they came to do?’

‘Yes. They let another of the dogs go as soon as you were knocked out, and back he came a quarter of an hour later with one of our poor little men. Then they let a third dog go, and so it went on till they’d gotten twelve victims. They’ve put all the captives in the other waggon. I mean, the one that the big panjandrum isn’t using. I’d guess that it was about four by the time they got through, and it must be around five now. We’re somewhere in the pass still. Oh Boy, darling, what’ll we do? What’ll we do?’

‘Hush, my sweet.’ He squeezed her hand again. ‘While there’s life there’s hope. That sounds a silly and trite thing to say, but all the same it’s awfully true.’

‘These Red men are evil folk, Boy, and I’m scared of what they may do to us.’

‘Yes, they’re evil all right; but it’s no good meeting trouble half-way. I suppose they took the automatic off you?’

‘No. What sense was there in showing the pistol when I knew I’d never be able to use it? They don’t know I’ve got it because it was hidden under my coat before, but as soon as I got in here I hid it in the knapsack we used for carrying the supper things.’

‘We’d better keep it there, then. It’s quite a comfort to think that anyhow we’ve got one weapon. D’you know what happened to the rifle?’

‘No. I think they left it where it fell. I picked up your crutches. You’ll find them there beside you.’ Gloria yawned. ‘Oh, I’m so tired! It’s come on me all of a sudden. It must be that I was tired before, but too worried to notice it while I was wondering if you were ever going to open your lips again.’

‘My poor darling!’ Slipping an arm round her he drew her head down on to his shoulder. ‘You’ve had the hell of a night; a much worse one than I have. Try to get some sleep now.’

The gentle rocking of the well-sprung palanquin was very conducive to sleep, and within a few minutes she had dropped off. Philip lay staring over her head into the darkness wondering what the future held for them. Escape, for the moment at all events, seemed out of the question. His leg would prove an almost insurmountable handicap in any attempt to get away, and, in any case, where could they go, as it hardly seemed likely that the valley would prove a safe refuge for them now that they had made enemies of these ‘Lords of the Mountain’?

A faint grey light began to filter between the curtains of the litter. Soon after this its pace became erratic, and it was frequently tilted forward for brief intervals at a sharp angle, from which Philip knew that they must be through the pass and descending the two thousand feet track to the plain.

They were not far down it when Gloria began to talk in her sleep. This was not a thing she often did, so Philip put it down to over-excitement, and, although he did not at first pay much attention to her mutterings, his interest was suddenly caught because she seemed to be carrying on a conversation of exceptional gravity. He heard her say perfectly clearly:

‘I’m one hundred per cent American.’ Then she went on, often with quite long intervals between her sentences:

‘Yes. He said, “In order that Government of the People by the People for the People shall not perish from the earth.” ’

‘Sure, it means a fair chance for all. It means that people are just people, and having money, or birth, or brains doesn’t necessarily make them any finer or greater. So everyone has an equal right to the things that really matter; like bringing up their children the way they think best, going to what church they fancy and telling even the President he’s wrong, if they honestly think he is.’

‘Forget all that! But I don’t want to. Why should I?’

‘Oh, I see. Well, that certainly makes a difference.’

‘That’s a pretty fast one. You see, there’s Boy and the children. Naturally, I wouldn’t want to die.’

‘The vote and all that has never meant much to me; but all the same I’ve always thought that women and men should look on one another as equals. They’re just made different, but they’re not really different inside.’