The Lion and the Baron

by Simon Brading

  The officer blinked and turned it over in his hands, pulling out the blade and the other implements in turn, before looking up at Drake again. ‘This is truly the only weapon you have?’

  ‘On my honour as a gentleman.’

  The man looked at him sceptically, but nonetheless nodded his acceptance. He put the penknife in his pocket, then gestured at the staircase. ‘Would you go downstairs, please, Aviator Lieutenant Drake?’

  ‘Of course.’ Drake started to go, then turned back as something occurred to him. ‘Please tell me you have tea down there; I’m gasping.’

  Instead of answering, the man just gave Drake a cold look, then turned away and spoke to his men again. They picked up Tanya between them and, while one of them climbed up to the walkway, the other put her over his shoulder. When Drake saw her limp and too still form he feared the worst, but as the guard carried her past he was relieved to see her chest rising and falling.

  The opulence of the staircase continued in the living quarters below. There was wood panelling on the walls, thick rugs on the floor, a couple of sofas, a full bookcase, and a wooden table laid with a cooked breakfast, which was still steaming. A moderately-sized clockwork electrical heater, wound by means of what looked like the pedals and chain from a penny-farthing, stood against the wall to one side, providing warmth and presumably hot water without any smoke to give away the position of the bunker. Soft electric sconces provided illumination and there were large landscape paintings providing views of the surrounding countryside in spring and summer on all four walls, as if to compensate for the lack of windows.

  Although there was no escaping the fact that it was underground, it had more the aspect of a cabin in the woods than a fortification and it was extremely impressive for a hole in the ground in the middle of the forest.

  The soldier lay Tanya down on one of the sofas, then disappeared down one of the two dark corridors leading off the room, leaving Drake alone with the officer, who wandered over to warm his hands on the heater. He pulled back the hood of the bloody Muscovite parka to reveal shockingly blonde hair, then turned to warm his back while he regarded Drake with a pair of the brightest blue eyes that he had ever seen.

  ‘You are a long way from home, Lieutenant.’

  ‘Yes, but unlike you I was invited to Muscovy.’

  The man smiled coldly and nodded, conceding the point. ‘Well, unlike you, I will see my home again soon.’ He gestured towards the table. ‘Please, make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to food and drink.’

  ‘I’d rather see to my friend first.’

  The man shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’

  Drake knelt down next to Tanya and gently turned her head to look at where she had been hit. There was a large lump and her hair was matted with blood, but there was no sign of a fracture or anything when he gently explored it and she moaned in pain at his touch, which was encouraging.

  The soldier came back into the room and said something in the unfamiliar language, which Drake now assumed was Finnish. The officer said a few words in reply then walked over to Drake. ‘Someone will be here to get you shortly, I suggest you have some food while you can; it is a long drive and I cannot guarantee that you will be kept in such luxurious conditions where you are going.’

  ‘And where is that?’

  ‘You are being moved to the nearest Prussian army camp. They are better equipped to hold you than we are.’

  ‘You could always let us go, then nobody has to worry about us.’

  ‘Ah, the British sense of humour in the face of insurmountable odds.’ The man smiled grimly, with no humour of his own. ‘Try to hold on to it; you will need it.’

  Before Drake could reply, he turned away and climbed back up the stairs, leaving the soldier to keep an eye on them.

  ‘Rudy?’

  Tanya’s voice was soft, but strong and when she looked up at him there was no sign of concussion, something that years of rugby at Eton had taught him to recognise. He knelt next to her again. ‘How are you feeling?’

  She continued speaking in a low voice that he could barely hear. ‘I’m fine; they didn’t actually knock me out - I knew I couldn’t win so I let them think they did.’

  Drake stared at her. ‘You let them... You...’ He trailed off.

  She smiled at his expression. ‘I trained as a prizefighter before the war so I know how to roll with a punch, but never mind that now. If we’re going to get away we need to go now, before whoever is coming arrives; they’ll be watching us too closely when we’re being moved.’

  The Finnish soldier was behind Drake and he couldn’t see him, but he could almost feel the barrel of the rifle pointed at his back. He shook his head. ‘We can’t. Even if we could get past this one, we’d never get up the stairs without being shot by the other two.’

  Tanya’s face turned cold, the smile disappearing in an instant. ‘Yes, we might be killed, but if we do nothing, we will most likely spend the rest of the war rotting in a Prussian prison camp. I for one would rather take the chance.’

  Drake found the change in Tanya’s expression frightening, but he couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. He gave her a curt nod. ‘Very well, what can I do?’

  ‘Our only hope is to take care of the man down here without alerting the other two. I just need you to distract him distracted, then I’ll take care of the rest. Go ask if you can use the bathroom and make sure you’re between him and me.’

  Drake had no idea how she was going to pull off the attack on the man silently, but there was no uncertainty in Tanya’s eyes, just a fierce determination, so he nodded and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘You too.’ He shifted his weight to stand up, but before he could, she reached out to grab him by the front of his greatcoat and pulled him into a kiss.

  Drake was taken so completely by surprise that he barely had a chance to register that their lips were touching before she was pulling back.

  ‘What are you...? Why did...?’

  ‘There you go asking multiple questions at the same time again.’ She grinned. ‘I’ll answer them later, but for now, just shut up and concentrate on not getting yourself killed.’

  Drake had always had the gift of the gab, but for some reason, he kept finding himself lost for words around the woman and all he could do was nod.

  He stood and brushed his knees off, even though the carpet was cleaner than his clothes, then wandered towards the soldier, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

  ‘Um, hello.’

  The man didn’t say anything, but the way the barrel of his rifle shifted slightly upwards was eloquent enough and Drake stumbled to a halt a couple of paces from him.

  He ran his hand nervously through his filthy hair. ‘I was, uh, wondering if I could, um, go to the bathroom?’

  The man jerked his gun towards one of the corridors and that was all the opening Tanya needed. She flowed past Drake and in less than a second, as if by magic, the man was on the floor, choking for breath and his rifle was in her hands.

  Drake gaped at her. ‘How...?’

  She rolled her eyes and motioned for him to be quiet and stay where he was, then made her way to the staircase and peered up.

  Drake followed her, but she put her hand on his chest and glared at him, then stabbed a finger at the floor, leaving him in no doubt that she intended to take care of the other two men on her own.

  He didn’t like it, but he had seen what she could do and knew he would just get in her way, so he nodded his acquiescence and backed off a couple of steps.

  She nodded in return, slipped off her boots, then went up the staircase silently and disappeared from sight.

  After a couple of seconds of silence all hell broke loose, the sound of screams and gunfire deafening in the enclosed space.

  Since there was no longer any need for stealth, Drake raced up the stairs. He had no idea what he could possibly do to help, but he didn’t care; he wanted to be on hand just in ca
se.

  The shooting stopped before he was half-way up and as he rounded the last bend of the staircase he came face to face with the other soldier.

  He cried out and swerved to the side, trying to avoid the bullets he knew were coming, but tripped on the last step and fell, tumbling to the bare concrete floor of the bunker. He kept moving, though, and rolled back onto his feet with his good fist raised, ready to defend himself to the last.

  ‘Rudy? What are you doing?’

  Slowly, it dawned on Drake that the man he’d been so frightened of was just lying on the safety rail, his body broken and limp, blood dripping from multiple bullet wounds. He straightened from the fighting crouch his boxing instructor had taught him and turned to find Tanya leaning against the wall, watching him with a broad grin on her feet, the other man, the officer, lying inert at her feet.

  ‘Um... Helping?’ Drake chuckled nervously, even as he stared at the officer; his head was twisted around further than should have been possible and his blue eyes were looking right at him.

  Tanya laughed, but then scowled suddenly. ‘Well, if you wanted to help, you should at least have brought my shoes up with you.’ She tutted and shook her head in exasperation. ‘Come on, let’s go get our things. We have to get out of here.’

  They raced back downstairs and Drake grabbed his bag while she went down one of the corridors to the kitchen to find food. After some consideration, he also picked up the bloody Muscovite parka that the man had discarded and put it on over his greatcoat; he was fed up of stuffing leaves inside his flightsuit in an effort to keep warm.

  Tanya came back out and saw him. She nodded in approval, but said nothing as she led the rush back upstairs and through the door into the dank tunnel.

  They raced up into the cold daylight and immediately came up short when they saw what was waiting for them.

  The soldiers that had been sent to get them had obviously heard the firing; they had set up a heavy machine gun to cover the exit of the ramp and placed a couple of men on top of the bunker behind them to cut off any possible retreat.

  Tanya grinned at Drake as she put up her hands. ‘Oh well, at least I got to kill a few more invaders.’

  This time she didn’t see the rifle butt coming and neither did Drake.

  Chapter 6

  When Drake opened his eyes he found himself face down in the back of a steam wagon, his cheek pressed against the freezing cold and rusting iron floor. A ringing in his ears and the dull thump of a headache to beat all headaches almost blocked out the sound of the engine, but they were merely a discomfort compared to the sharp agony in his arm, which was doubled underneath him. The continuous shaking of the inadequately-sprung wagon as it trundled along were fiery pinpricks in the broken bone, but occasionally there was a larger jolt as the wagon made its way over rough ground which shot a flare of agony up his arm and set stars flaring in his vision. He groaned and tried to roll off the arm, but his back came up against something hard which prevented him from doing so and he looked up into the face of a Finnish soldier, who grinned evilly then drew back the boot he’d bumped into and kicked him in the kidneys. He gasped, writhing at the fresh pain and rolled back the other way, but immediately came up against another obstacle - Tanya. She was on her back, still unconscious, her left cheek covered with blood and her lip and eye on that side black and swollen.

  His pain was all but forgotten at the sight of her and he struggled to sit up.

  ‘Tanya!’

  He reached out to shake her gently by the shoulder and she moaned. Her eyes flickered open, but they didn’t focus on him and after a few seconds they fluttered closed again. It had been long enough for him to see that her pupils were uneven, though.

  ‘Wake up, Tanya, come on.’ Drake shook her a bit rougher, knowing that she shouldn’t sleep if she had a concussion.

  She moaned again, louder this time and her eyes opened again. She looked up at him, but he could see that it was a struggle for her to focus on him. ‘Rudy. We’re alive, then.’

  Drake smiled weakly. ‘For now at least. Come on, let’s get up; the floor is too cold, we can’t stay here.’

  None of the four white-clad soldiers sitting in the corners of the canvas-covered passenger compartment lifted a finger as he struggled to half-help, half-lift her from the floor, they just laughed among themselves every time the wagon lurched or bumped and they fell. Eventually he got her onto one of the wooden benches running along the walls and flopped down next to her.

  While the exertion had exhausted him and he had to wait for a sudden bout of dizziness to pass, it seemed to have done her a bit of good and she was much more aware of what was going on around her.

  ‘Well, I had fun in the bunker, let’s do it again sometime.’

  She gave him a meaningful look, tilting her head minutely at the soldiers and Drake couldn’t help but groan. ‘I don’t think either of us are in any shape for more excitement and besides, I have no idea what you actually were before the war, but I’ve only ever been a pilot - I don’t do guns and knives and hand to hand fighting, I do Harridans and Spitsteams.’

  ‘Why, whatever do you mean, Rudy? I’m only a pilot too.’ She smiled slyly. ‘You’re probably right, we should rest for a few minutes before making our escape.’ She put her arm on his hand. ‘You shouldn’t sell yourself so short, though; I saw the way you leapt up those stairs.’

  ‘Yes. And fell on my face.’

  ‘Well, it’s the thought that counts and we’ll work on your fighting skills for next time.’ She grinned widely at him, revealing a couple of missing teeth and reddened gums in a bloody mouth.

  He frowned. ‘How are you feeling? It looks like they knocked you around pretty badly.’

  She chuckled, then winced, putting her hand to her jaw and wiggling it experimentally. ‘I guess they recognised the main threat when they saw it.’ She shrugged. ‘I’ll survive. I’ve had worse. What about you?’

  ‘I feel like I’ve been pulling high G’s for a few hours and then boxed eight rounds with the heavyweight champion of the Kingdom. With a broken arm.’

  ‘Only eight rounds? Then you have a few left in you!’

  She smiled again then put her hand to her head and swayed, pantomiming feeling faint. It wasn’t a very convincing performance and Drake wondered what she was doing until she used the excuse to lean against him, putting her mouth close to his ear.

  ‘I recovered my knives at the bunker and they didn’t find them. If we bide our time the guards will probably get bored, maybe doze off, and we’ll take our chances then.’

  ‘Why are you so determined to escape? Our luck is going to run out at some point.’

  She lifted her head slightly to peer up into his eyes, so close that Drake could almost feel her lips on his again. ‘Have you not heard about their prison camps? About the inhumane conditions in them?’

  ‘No.’ Drake’s mouth went dry and he shook his head. ‘Should I have?’

  ‘Quite a few soldiers have managed to escape the camps with the help of underground networks in the occupied countries. According to them, they and other inmates are often forced to work themselves to death, mining or cutting trees or such. My government informed your War Ministry about the camps months ago, I would have thought they’d have told you.’

  Again, Drake shook his head. ‘We know the Prussians have to have somewhere to keep prisoners of war, just like we do, but we haven't been told what their camps are like.’ He paused, looking around at the soldiers. None of them were showing any signs of inattention, although it was still early in the journey. ‘If people have escaped, then maybe we can do the same. We don’t have to try now when we have four guards and we’re both weak.’

  It was Tanya’s turn to shake her head. ‘I doubt we will be able to; there was not a single pilot among the soldiers who have escaped.’

  ‘No pilots? Well, that’s not too surprising, given the number of soldiers who must’ve been captured and the number of pilots.’


  ‘No, you don’t understand. I’m not only saying that no pilot has escaped, I’m saying that the soldiers who make it out report not having seen a single pilot in the camps. All the pilots go elsewhere and never come back.’ She gave him a meaningful look. ‘Or maybe they don’t go anywhere at all...’

  Despite Tanya’s melodramatic turn of phrase and presentation of the facts, a shiver ran through Drake and it had nothing to do with the cold in the back of the wagon. The implications were horrifying, but in some way they made sense; for the first time ever in a war, air power had taken on more of an importance than ever before. Battles were now being won and lost by air support, traditional fortifications had been rendered almost useless, and cities were not being sacked by armies but flattened by bombers. The elite warriors were no longer those who could swing a sword best or shoot the fastest or most accurately, but rather the pilots controlling the skies. They were now the most valuable commodity in the war and it was therefore in the interest of both sides that any captured pilots were never allowed to return to the fight.

  ‘We’re still alive, so they can’t be just killing every pilot they capture out of hand.’

  ‘These guys are Finnish. Maybe they haven’t gotten the message yet.’

  ‘Or maybe the local Prussian commander has to make the decision or something. Whatever the reason, there’s no way I can hide the fact that I’m a pilot, but you could still say you’re just a soldier.’

  ‘I didn’t abandon you to die in the forest and I’m not going to do so now. We’re in this together. We’ll just wait our chance, as I said.’

  ‘Alright.’ Drake nodded.

  ‘Good. Now get some rest; we’ll need it.’

  Tanya snuggled further into his side and in moments was snoring gently through her blood-blocked nose.

  Drake looked down at her in surprise and not a little envy; he had no idea how she could possibly sleep under the circumstances, but then one of her eyes opened just a slit and looked up at him and he realised that again she was play-acting.