Dragons Of Englor rb-24

by Джеффри Лорд

  Blade lifted one limp arm and felt for the pulse. He felt it continue strongly for a few more seconds, then slowly fade away to nothing. He let go of the dead man’s hand and wiped the blood off his own face. Then without a word he started the engine again, put the car into gear, and headed up the hill.

  Chapter 16

  Blade could never forget that wild ride through the night and the fog along Rodzmania’s National Highway 32, with a dead man in the seat beside him and a white-faced woman crouching behind him. Of the many experiences of his adventurous life, it was certainly one he would have been glad to forget if he could.

  He kept the gas pedal flat to the floor. He knew he did not speak, and he could not be sure he even breathed as the armored car roared north. From time to time he blessed the lack of initiative of the Red Flames’ armed forces, and also the ruggedness and reliable engines of their armored cars. This type of armored car had a rated top speed of sixty miles an hour, according to the manuals. Blade didn’t drop below seventy for the first half hour of the ride. The road was smooth and traffic didn’t exist; he would have hit a hundred if the car could have done it.

  After that first half hour he slowed down to an almost leisurely fifty. That was still fast enough to make them a difficult target in the misty darkness and carry them easily through all but the stoutest of roadblocks.

  Blade would have been happier if the radio antennas hadn’t been shot away. Then they might have been able to listen to the enemy’s command network and find out how the hunt for them was developing. But as it was, there was nothing to do but push on and hope speed and boldness would keep luck on their side through the night.

  It did. By two in the morning they were well into the area where small fishing villages studded the coves and bays along the shore. They pulled off Highway 32 onto a side road leading to a cliff overlooking the sea. Blade drove up the winding road while Rilla stood in the turret, her hair tossing in the breeze from the sea. The fog eddied erratically, now thicker than ever, now thinning out to the faintest mist.

  They reached the top of the cliff at a moment when the fog was so thin they could look across several miles of open sea. For the first time that night they could even look up and see the stars.

  Blade walked along the cliff until he found a place where the rim sloped downward, steepening gradually until it reached a vertical drop of two hundred feet to the sea below. He stripped the armored car of everything he and Rilla could use and carry, then strapped Piedar Goron’s body into the passenger seat.

  Slowly Blade drove the car to the top of the sloping rim, turned it onto the slope, then flung the door open and sprang clear. He landed hard, rolled to break his fall, saw the swinging door flash over him. He sat up and watched as the car went rumbling down the slope, moving faster and faster, swaying wildly from side to side. Then it steadied, rolled the last few yards, and plunged out into empty air. Blade held his breath until the sound of the splash floated up from below. The maps showed water a hundred feet deep at the foot of the cliff. Their trail would be safely broken, and Piedar Goron would have a tomb safe from disturbance by the Red Flames.

  When the last sounds of the splash died away, Blade walked down to where Rilla sat on a boulder and helped her to her feet. «It’s time we went to find ourselves a boat,» he said.

  She nodded. «Will you tell me where the island is, and how the submarine will pick me up?»

  «I thought you couldn’t handle a boat?»

  «Perhaps not. But fear is not a bad teacher, and my luck might last even if yours does not.»

  «And if yours doesn’t last either?» said Blade quietly.

  «Then I will find a clean death and a clean grave in the sea, like Piedar Goron’s, not what the Red Flames will give me if they catch me.»

  Blade took her hand, and side by side they walked down the hill. As they walked, the fog again grew thick around them.

  It was still thick at dawn, but by that time they were twenty miles out to sea.

  Rilla’s advice helped Blade choose a boat. In the first village, he would have chosen a heavily timbered cruiser with a full rig to supplement the engine. Rilla shook her head at that.

  «I think that no one but a Red Flame or a collaborator would have such a boat here. If it is stolen, the owner will make a great cry. The local police and the Russland patrols will have to listen to him.

  «If we steal a fishing boat, it will be different. The fisherman will not be happy, but he will think his boat was stolen by another fisherman, by the Red Flames, or by the underground.

  «He will try to find and kill the fisherman himself. He will know that it is useless to complain when the Red Flames take his property. If the underground has taken the boat, then he will be happy to have aided them with no real danger to himself. So if we take a fishing boat I do not think we will be pursued.»

  «Let’s look for a fishing boat, then,» he said. As long as the boat would get them safely to Englor if necessary, he didn’t much care what kind it was.

  They found their boat in the second village, a forty-foot ketch with the masts set unusually far apart and a rusty one-cylinder gasoline engine. Blade hoped they wouldn’t have to use the engine much-it looked more useful for anchoring the boat than for moving it. But the rigging and sails were in good condition.

  Working silently in the darkness Blade set the mainsail, and the boat crept slowly out across the little harbor and into the channel to the sea. It seemed to take forever to tack down the channel, with Blade at the helm and Rilla keeping a lookout forward.

  Once they were clear of the channel Blade turned to the engine. Rather to his surprise, it started. It also made a pounding roar like a badly tuned racing car running without a muffler. Blade wasn’t sure he shouldn’t turn it right off again before it brought every fisherman for ten miles up and down the coast out on their trail. But it was either the engine or wait until the breeze rose. Blade chose the engine.

  He also sent Rilla below to get some sleep in the tiny cabin aft. He practically had to push her, although she was reeling with fatigue. Before she went, she threw her arms around him and kissed him three times-once on each cheek, once on the lips. Under the warmth of those kisses Blade sensed Rilla’s relief and gratitude, and also unmistakable desire. It was a desire kept carefully under control for the moment-Rilla was a woman who would know when to think of love and when to think only of survival. But when the right moment came, that control would crumble. Blade knew that the right moment would come before they said good-bye, and he was glad of that. There was much more he wanted to know about this woman, and the pleasure and excitement of that superb body of hers was part of it.

  Meanwhile, there was a sea voyage to take-a hundred miles to the island of Steyra if they were lucky, a thousand miles to Englor if they were not. Blade settled himself as comfortably as he could manage on the cracked and moldy cushions of the seat and clamped his hand firmly on the wheel.

  Dawn crept through the clouds and the fog two hours after sunrise. By ten there was a faint hint of breeze. By the time Rilla awoke the fog was vanishing from around them, and a brisk wind was filling the mainsail. Blade showed Rilla the basic art of steering a boat under sail, then lay down on the cushions where he would be within easy call. His eyes were closed two minutes after he put his head down.

  Chapter 17

  They reached the island of Steyra at dawn the next morning. This dawn was sparkling bright, with the sky glowing as the sun crept up over the horizon and the breeze raised whitecaps on the sea. It was a lovely sight, and Blade was glad to be able to make the approach to the island with good visibility. Good visibility for him, though, meant the same for anyone who sailed by or flew overhead. He would not have greatly minded another day of fog.

  The island of Steyra was twelve miles long and four miles wide. Because of its poor soil it was uninhabited. Parties of fishermen came from time to time to gather shellfish and seabirds’ eggs, but that was all. Most of the island was rock, a
s bare and lifeless as an army helmet, but on both coasts there were a number of bays where a fair-sized boat could ride safely at anchor-or a submarine enter submerged. Three of the bays were regularly visited by Imperial submarines on patrol in these waters, and it was for one of those bays that Blade set his course.

  They made their way close-hauled around to the western side of the island, reaching the mouth of the bay by noon.

  Blade lowered the sails while Rilla took the wheel and steered them into the cove under power. By now she handled the boat as confidently as if she’d been doing it for years. The sea breeze and the release of tension had brought some color back to her bleached cheeks.

  At last they came to a place half a mile inside the bay where they could moor directly to the rock. Blade sprang from the bow onto the shore and led the bowline around a handy boulder, while Rilla lowered the anchor from the stern.

  Blade wiped his hands on his trousers and looked up. The cliffs around the bay rose a hundred feet high on all sides. No one but the seabirds wheeling high overhead could see them now. There was much else that would have to be done before they could safely settle down and wait for the submarine, but none of it had to be done in the next few hours. For the first time since he’d dropped from the Imperial reconnaissance plane into Rodzmania, Blade didn’t feel a need to keep alert.

  Rilla walked forward to the bow and stood by the bowsprit, smiling down at Blade. The cliffs all around cut off the sea breeze, and the damp air was almost warm. Rilla pulled off her jacket and threw it down on the deck. Then she took two steps out along the bowsprit and sprang lightly down onto the rock. Two more steps, and Blade found her coming into his arms, her eyes wide and her lips curved in a broad smile before they pressed themselves against his.

  They had both known this would happen when the moment seemed right. Now that moment was here.

  Blade felt desire roar up within him, as vivid and real as the burning planes on the airfield. He held Rilla against him, feeling her warmth, the lush magnificence of her body, the trembling that told of a desire that was rising in her to match his. Then he stepped away from her and laughed, although the laugh came strangely from his dry throat.

  «For God’s sake let’s get something to spread on the rocks, or we’re going to look like we’ve fallen off the cliffs by the time we’re through.»

  «Ah,» said Rilla, tossing her head so that her hair rippled across her shoulders. «You are right.» She began to unbutton her sweater. «So go and get a sail or a blanket. Do not be slow.»

  Blade nodded and leaped back aboard the boat. It seemed that he went from bow to stern in two leaps, then dove below into the tiny cabin to snatch blankets from the narrow bunks. Back on deck, forward again-and he stopped at the foot of the bowsprit to stare and admire.

  Rilla stood by the boulder to which the boat was moored, one hand resting on it, the other hand on her hip. All her clothes were tossed roughly over the boulder. She was as nude as she’d been by the cove on the lake, so many days and many miles ago. This time, though, she’d stripped to bare herself to far more than the sunlight and the wind and the water. The look in her eyes made that as clear as if she’d carved it into the rock at her feet. Those eyes were green, and they seemed far larger than before.

  Blade did not remember passing from the boat to the shore. He did not remember taking off his own clothes, although he remembered Rilla telling him to do so in a choking voice. He did not remember sweeping the loose pebbles from a patch of rock and spreading the blankets out on it.

  He could be sure that all of these things happened. He remembered very clearly how he lay down on the blankets and how Rilla stood above him. There was no urge to dominate in her; there was no desire to submit in him. There was only an overpowering sense that both of them wanted her to ride him and that it did not matter very much, because this joining would be only their first and not their last. They had all the time that even two people thrust forward by a fierce desire could possibly want or need.

  Rilla bowed forward, and for a moment she saluted with her lips the thickened rod of Blade’s risen manhood. It was only a passing salute, and Blade was glad of that. There was only so much desire that any man’s endurance could meet and conquer. The touch of Rilla’s lips hinted at their ability to push his desire far beyond that point.

  There would be time to test that ability, and much else about Rilla. That time was not now.

  Rilla rose from her bow, balanced herself with her long, solidly curved legs spread wide apart, then lowered herself down upon Blade. He twisted upward to meet her and they joined, his thrust surging upward out of sight into the damp dark redness between her tanned thighs. A gasp broke through his lips, and on her face appeared a look not of fulfillment-that would come later-but of satisfaction that they were well and happily begun.

  From that happy beginning they moved swiftly onward. She did not rise and fall, but instead writhed around and around and from side to side. Every part of the maddening warmth and the glorious wetness that surrounded Blade pressed against him. He had an exquisite sense of being caught and held in a grip that would never slacken or release him.

  What Rilla felt he could only guess from the expressions that tumbled wildly across her face, as wildly as her hair tumbled about with each shake and twist of her head and body. Her eyes flickered open and shut and her nostrils flared wider and wider, as though she were running desperately and could not suck enough air into her panting lungs. Her teeth were clamped tightly shut, although her lips twisted into shapes that seemed to hold strange combinations of both pain and pleasure.

  It could not go on this way for long, however determined Blade was to endure, however determined Rilla was to extract every bit of delight. She came to her first spasm, every part of her body jerking and twisting as though it would fly apart, her massive breasts with their solidly jutting nipples doing a strange, impassioned, infinitely provocative dance of their own. She came to a second spasm, and her head went back and a terrible and wonderful cry of release and fulfillment went echoing around the cliffs. She came to a third spasm-

  — and this time Blade reached his own along with her. Two cries echoed around the cove, two bodies went through complex and totally uncontrolled movements, two sets of eyes clamped tightly shut, two pairs of hands sought each other and gripped until both cried out in pain as well as delight. Then there was silence and stillness, except for the heaving chests and the gasps as starved lungs tried desperately to suck in air. After a while even that faded away. Blade looked up at Rilla, Rilla looked down at Blade, and they both laughed.

  «You know,» he said at last. «I could stay here for hours. And so could you.»

  She nodded.

  «But there are still things to do before we’ll be safe.»

  She nodded again.

  «So let’s get ourselves up and do them!» He ran a hand lightly down her spine and slapped her smartly on the buttocks. Slowly and reluctantly she rose, and just as slowly and reluctantly he scrambled to his feet to join her.

  They found a route up the cliffs and set up camp on top, overlooking the mouth of the bay. Concealed between two large boulders, the camp was sheltered both from the wind and from passing eyes. At the same time it gave them a much better view of all possible approaches to their refuge.

  There would be little hope for them if anyone did come. If their presence on this bare and inhospitable island were known to an enemy, they would face a grim situation. Blade hoped Rilla did not realize how little hope there would be, although she had a surprising ability to calmly look great dangers and long odds in the face.

  In any case, Blade’s forebodings turned out to be unnecessary. If a hunt for them ever was launched, it certainly got nowhere near Steyra Island. They spent twelve days there, living on fish and on biscuit and salt meat from the fishing boat. They got a little hungry, but they still found the strength to make love every morning, almost every night, and sometimes at noon as well.

  On the
ir lucky thirteenth day an Imperial submarine appeared. On the eighteenth day after reaching Steyra Island they were safely back in Englor, and Rilla was able to report what the Red Flames were doing with her discoveries in genetics and cloning.

  Unfortunately, no one would believe her.

  Chapter 18

  General Strong looked across his desk with an expression that seemed to indicate he wished the people facing him would vanish in a puff of smoke.

  «Dragons?» he said.

  Rilla nodded. «Dragons.»

  «Flying, fire-breathing dragons?»

  She nodded again.

  «Flying, fire-breathing dragons that are going to fly from the tops of the mountains of Nordsbergen and land in Englor?»

  Rilla nodded a third time. «It would be more accurate to say that they will glide, General. They are too heavy to really fly, except in a very strong wind. But-«

  Blade gently squeezed Rilla’s hand and she fell silent. Blade did not much care for the tone in General Strong’s voice. Granted that General Sir Morgan Strong was Director of the Office of Military Intelligence. That did not prove that he himself had any intelligence. Certainly he was showing very little of it now.

  Blade felt like saying that aloud. On the other hand, Sir Morgan Strong was a full general. He himself was a major with a background that could not safely be subjected to close investigation. General Strong seemed like the type to investigate any major who talked out of turn.

  Blade decided he would have to leave in R’s hands the problem of coping with General Strong.

  The one-eyed man took a deep breath. «General Strong, I assume you question the reliability of Miss Haran’s reports, in spite of her role in the creation of these dragons?»

  General Strong obviously did. Just as obviously, he wasn’t quite ready to come right out and call Rilla a high-priced defector to her face and in R’s presence. «Not altogether. It merely seems to me improbable, to the point that I am extremely reluctant to commit this office of His Imperial Majesty’s Armed Forces to any course of action based on it.»