The response was a shower of bullets.
“This way!” Albert said.
A few metres ahead of them lay another farm. They jumped over another fence and began running. The truck stopped as more gunshots rang out. Albert frantically reloaded his shotgun as he ran. His hands shook from the adrenaline as he placed the shells into his weapon. Two fell on the ground and he cursed under his breath. He kept running, without ever stopping or looking back.
Another wave of enemy bullets flew passed them. Melbourne grabbed Julie by the arm and jerked her away as bullets hissed past her head. They found themselves facing a barn and with little choice left. Melbourne hurled himself against the door, breaking it open with his shoulder. As soon as the two entered, Melbourne pushed her to the floor and lay on top of her, protecting her from the shower of bullets that quickly devastated the door and the walls next to it.
He pushed himself up. “Come on! Quick!”
“The others! Where are the others!” Her voice was shaking.
Melbourne cursed and grabbed her hand. “Come, we need to move away from here.”
“No! I need to know where mama and Albert are!”
“Do you want to end up like a tea ball spoon? Then come!”
The two ran across the empty barn, looking for a way out until they heard the door behind them move. They quickly hid inside a stall on the far end.
They crouched low, holding each other tight, listening.
It was not footsteps that they heard but a low growl. It slowly made its way across the barn, getting louder. Melbourne aimed his pistol.
The growl continued, slowly getting closer. Then it stopped.
Melbourne and Julie held their breath and waited. They looked at each other. Could it have gone away? He quietly let go of Julie and got to his knees. The bottom part of the stall door stopped a foot or so above the floor. Melbourne slowly lowered himself to the floor to look through the slot. He couldn’t see anything. Moving on all fours, he cautiously made his way towards the door. Had the dog left? It seemed like it.
The snarling jaws suddenly drove underneath the door, trying to bite Melbourne’s face. He let out a scream and jumped back against the farthest wall. The dog barked and snarled fiercely as foam dripped from its sharp teeth. It was a Doberman, black as the night with the tip of its ears crudely cut off. Blood stains were still visible around its mouth from the killing of the bloodhound.
Melbourne aimed the gun at the animal and pressed down the trigger.
Nothing. It was empty.
The Doberman barked louder, trying to squeeze itself through slot. Melbourne looked around him for a way out as Julie held on tight to him.
Not even a window. They were trapped.
He kicked the dog’s nose to push him back but that only enraged him more. The dog bit back, sinking his teeth into Melbourne’s boot. He kept pushing, half of his body already through.
Julie screamed and hugged Melbourne. She closed her eyes and began praying, repeating the same sentence over and over, each time faster. Melbourne did the same.
The dog had pushed its entire body through the door.
XLI
The Doberman stood inside the stable, staring at its prey. Melbourne had never felt more like meat.
It turned its gaze to Julie and growled, sharp white teeth glinting as saliva dripped onto the wooden floor. He began moving slowly, advancing towards her. She buried her face in Melbourne’s shoulder, trembling. Melbourne felt out of breath. He wasn’t going to let that beast touch her, even if it meant his death.
The dog suddenly yanked back, its body slamming against the stable door. Two hands appeared from beneath the stable door, grabbed the dog’s hind legs, and dragged him back through the gap. The dog took a good look at Melbourne and Julie, then slid through the space back out from where it came from. It barked madly, until there came a loud thump and a yelp. The thumps continued, once, twice, three times, until all was silent again.
Melbourne held his breath until the dog appeared once more through the space under the door. This time it fell on the floor, its tongue rolled out, unconscious.
Julie looked up, her eyes fixed on the beast as a single tear began streaking down her face. The door to the stable flung open and Albert appeared.
Julie began laughing and crying at the same time as she sprung up and hugged her brother tightly.
“They’re on their way with the other dog,” he said. “There’s a door in the back. We should move.”
Melbourne got up on his feet. “I’m vaguely starting to love your brother.”
Albert scoffed. “I wanted to save my sister, you just happened to be here.”
“Where the hell were you?” Julie asked.
“Had to knock out one of the other dogs. The soldiers have the last one.”
They bolted out of the stable as soldiers broke into the barn. Lucinde waited for them at the back door and rejoiced at her seeing her children safe. The company started running towards the trees that began just ahead of them. They could hear shouts coming from behind; the barking of the remaining dog gave Melbourne the chills. Gun shots rang once more, once the soldiers had found the back door.
The four quickly jumped over the fence at the edge of the farm and entered the woods. The thick foliage above them blocked what little light had formed in the eastern sky. As they plunged back into the darkness that Melbourne had wished he had left behind earlier, he could make out a pink blush on clouds beyond the leaves. Dawn was making way to full daylight. It was going to be harder to hide once they were out of the woods.
They zigzagged in the labyrinth of trees, being careful not to trip, and following Julie’s general sense of direction towards the castle. The pursuers were behind them somewhere. Melbourne could hear them as their shouts echoed through the forest.
“Almost there!” Julie shouted.
They kept running as tiredness succumbed to adrenaline.
Shots began to ring out behind them. Melbourne could hear the thunderous sound of gun shots bouncing off the trees around him. He almost tumbled down a small ravine that housed a stream before Albert took his hand and pulled him back up.
They kept going until Julie came to a sudden halt. The rest of the company stopped as well. They were on the main road to the castle, and the red brick wall was right in front of them.
“To the gate! Quick!” Albert said.
They took the bend and ran down the main road that led to the entrance. Melbourne couldn’t hear their pursuers behind them anymore. The rusted and cobwebbed gate was shut tight. Albert and Melbourne both hit it at a run, and it opened with a lamenting screech.
The four dashed across the lawn and past the abandoned fountain to the courtyard door. They pushed it open, ran across the court, and flung themselves against the main door to the castle. They all frantically banged with their fists at the large door, yelling and shouting. It seemed like several minutes before the door finally opened.
Michel, with pillow lines on his face and sleepy eyes, stood in the entrance. “What are you doing at this God-awful hour?” He looked at their breathless and pale faces. “What is going on?”
The four pushed past him into the hallway.
“Would you care to explain to me what is the problem here? The Countess would not — ”
Melbourne grabbed the collar of his dressing gown. “Listen to me, wake the Countess up as fast as you can, we need to leave. Now.”
“The Germans have found us, Michel,” Albert said. He looked at Melbourne. “I wonder how.”
Michel placed a hand on his chest. “Oh, dear.”
“What is happening?”
They all spun around to see the Countess standing on top of the marble stairs, wearing a velvet dressing down and holding a candelabrum in one hand, the four candles casting her face in a golden light.
“Melbourne? Lucinde? What…?”
Melbourne ran up the stairs towards her, speaking as he went. “Countess, I am sorry for this
intrusion but something awful has happened. They know who we are, what we do, everything. And they are coming for us this very instant. We need to leave — ”
A terrible crashing sound reverberated from outside.
“What was that?” Michel asked.
“I think it’s what used to be your gates,” Melbourne said.
The maid ran in. “Countess, what is all this commotion? What is going on?”
“Get them to the kitchen, hide them there.” the Countess said. “Quick!”
Melbourne took her hand. “I can’t leave you here, you’re coming with us.”
“My dear Melbourne, I know what I am doing. Michel and I will hold them off for a while before we can escape. Now go!”
He heard the doors to the court being battered. Melbourne ran to one of the windows and looked outside. There was the brute with the crooked nose, back up on his feet, with a small group of soldiers behind him. They had the last Doberman with them.
Michel grabbed his shoulder and yanked him away from the window. “Go!”
Melbourne hesitated but then nodded and followed the others through a door, leaving behind the Countess and Michel. They passed through a series of doors and into the vast kitchen.
A loud thump came from behind the front door.
They waited in silence for a few seconds and then the knock came again.
“I can’t do this.” Melbourne moved back towards the main door of the kitchen, amidst the protests of his companions. He ran back to the door that separated the other rooms and the entrance hall, bent over, and peeked through the key hole.
Michel had opened the door and the brute entered, shoving him aside. Five men followed close by. The soldiers scattered around the entrance hall, the Doberman letting out a quiet, steady growl.
“Are you the Countess Priscille de Libremont?” the brute asked.
“I should be the one asking who you are,” the Countess said. “Have you no manners at all, Sir? Bursting into a person’s house uninvited and without presenting yourself?”
The brute removed an envelope from a pocket and held up in one hand. “This is an arrest warrant for the Countess de Libremont. Consider it my calling card.”
“And under what pretences?” she asked.
“Espionage, Madam. You are accused of conducting clandestine activities against the Imperial German Forces and housing spies within the confines of your castle.”
“Lies.”
“I have no times for games, Countess. I could make your deportation a little gentler if you tell us the whereabouts of the rats.”
“This is barbaric,” Michel said. “What are you talking about? Addressing yourself this way to the Countess? We hold no spies within these walls!”
The brute removed his pistol from his holster and pointed it at Michel’s face. “I will ask you one more time, where are the four spies?”
Michel raised his hands, taking a few steps back.
“There are none,” the Countess said. “You may accuse me of whatever you want, but there are no spies hiding in this castle.”
“Don’t play games with me!” The brute turned the pistol towards the Countess. “Now, if your noble highness would be so courteous to point us the way towards the spies, you may live until tomorrow.”
The Countess remained impassive, staring down the barrel of the gun from the top of the stairs.
“Very well,” she said. “If it must be this way.”
She produced a long, thin whistle from her sleeve and blew it. A soft, high pitched fragile sound diffused itself throughout the entrance hall for a few seconds. Then she stopped. The soldiers turned to looked at each other confused.
Without a warning, a swarm of birds descended from the top the marble stairs down onto the entrance hall. Over forty of them, from Northern Cardinals to Robins, from Swallows to Goldfinches, even a couple Barn Owls and Blue Herons flapping lazily through the entrance hall. Jays, and many more, filled the entire space. Their loud chirping and screeching, together with the fluttering of their many wings, created a cacophonic agitation that caught the intruders off guard. They flew about everywhere, filling the entrance hall with colour and complete chaos.
The soldiers screamed, waving their arms and weapons at the avian assailants. Others ran back outside. The Doberman leapt in the air and snapped at them, but they kept eluding him.
The birds wouldn’t stop. They flew in circles, some crashing into soldiers, others into each other. Some bombarded the intruders with their droppings. It was a pandemonium.
The torch the soldier held fell to the ground, rolling around in the surrounding madness until it hit one of the walls. Slowly, an ancient medieval arras began to be set ablaze.
The brute let loose a few shots in the air but it was useless. He too was being assailed by the birds as they flew into his head and his shoulders. He turned to face the Countess and found her within steps from him.
She launched the candelabrum in his face, candles first.
He let out a terrifying scream, and she began running towards the door from where Melbourne was watching the scene. The brute began shooting blindly towards the general direction of the Countess, his other hand still covering his burned face.
Melbourne quickly opened the door to let her and Michel through. “Run!”
The brute kept shooting like a mad man until a bullet grazed Michel’s arm. He let out a cry and almost tumbled to the floor. The Countess grabbed him and helped him through the door. Melbourne quickly shut it.
“Forget the damn birds!” screamed the brute. “Go after them!”
The Countess grabbed one end of a nearby table and began pushing. Melbourne grabbed the other, and they dragged it in front of the door.
Bullets smashed holes through the door and the three threw themselves on the ground. They got up and ran through the series of doors and rooms, finally arrived at the kitchen.
“Help me with this.” The Countess grabbed the big, country-kitchen work table.
Melbourne and the maid helped her drag it across the floor. The Countess knelt down and with her hands threw away part of the carpet that lay under it, exposing a small wooden trap door. “There is a tunnel under this door built during medieval times in case of an enemy invasion,” she said. “It leads just outside the city, beyond the woods behind this castle.”
Albert helped her open in. A flight of stone steps led down; it was pitch black inside.
“Take that lamp on top of there and get down,” she told the maid. “All of you get down, quick!”
One by one they scurried down the ancient stone steps that led to the dark tunnel. First went the maid, followed by Lucinde, Julie, and Albert. Melbourne waited until nearly last, then stretched a hand towards the Countess.
Loud crashing noises resounded from beyond the kitchen. The soldiers had broken in the other rooms. There was also a smell of smoke in the air.
She shook her head. “Go ahead. Take Michel. I will take care of them.”
“No,” Michel said. “How could you think I’d leave you alone in this affair.”
“No! This is madness! You know what they will do to you? What’s going to happen?” Melbourne asked.
“I was born and raised in this castle, my dear,” the Countess said. “If it has to go down in flames, I will go with it. I have nothing to lose while you all do if you don’t get moving.” She leaned in closer. “Now listen to me carefully, my dear. Look for the nursing school on the Rue de la Culture in Uccle – there’s a Red Cross flag flying on the building. Find the matron and tell her that I sent you. You’ll be safe there.”
Melbourne shook his head.
She smiled one last time. “Oh, my dearest friends. Best of luck.”
She pushed the trap door shut above them, plunging them all into darkness.
XLII
- 2 days
“Verdammt.”
The German soldier patted himself, searching for the box of matches he had bought the night before from a Bel
gian woman in the street. He checked the pockets of his trousers and of his jacket but found nothing. The cigarette, already between his lips, was calling to him, telling him to hurry up. He searched frantically, spewing a few more curses under his breath. He hoped he had not forgotten it somewhere or, worse yet, lost it. It was the perfect start to another godforsaken boring day in the middle of nowhere.
He let out a sigh of relief as his fingers finally felt the tiny box deep in the inside pocket of his coat. He took it out, pulled out a match, lit it and placed the flame on the tip of the cigarette. One long puff and he already felt better. He sat on the bench next to his spiked helmet and looked around him. There was little movement that morning in Uccle, as most mornings, and he wished he were in central Brussels where a bit of action could shake up his day. But no, he was to patrol the area for any signs of danger. The most dangerous thing he had found all week long was a nun trying to convince him to go to church. He laughed and took another long puff from his cigarette.
His laugh was cut short as he noticed a small cluster of people further down the street. He squinted his eyes to get a better view. There were five of them, dressed in rags, and some wore hoods that concealed their faces. One was bent over; a walking stick helping his every wobbly step. The soldier stared at the motley band for some time before he put his helmet back on and headed towards them, spewing another round of curses.
“Halt!” he shouted when he was a few metres away from them. “Identitè!”
A pale looking young man with bloodshot eyes stepped up. He looked like he had seen better days.
“Please sir, we must reach the Red Cross hospital. We come from the town of Namur. Everything has been destroyed, no water, no food. We are all terribly sick and need the utmost urgent medical care. Please, let us pass.”
The German soldier understood half of what the young man said – his French was still developing – but he got the basic message. He held out his hand. “Identitè.”
“We have none. We lost everything! We…” The young man swallowed hard. “We have polio.”
The Iron Shadow Page 22
