J. Janes - Kaleidoscope

‘Walk gently, my fine. Do not move more than the necessary muscle.’

The girl waited. Judas to him though she was, St-Cyr said, ‘Josette … Josette, I am sorry my partner and I could not find a way to help you.’

‘The one from Bayonne, he … he has promised to see that my mother goes free, monsieur. Me, I could not do otherwise.’

‘The steps, Louis. You first, then myself, then Josette. We will go up on the ramparts so that Herr Munk and the others can see us. That will stop the executions and allow us a moment.’

The steps were worn, the stone bleached a yellowish-white but darker where the snow had reached and had begun to melt.

‘What made you change sides, Jean-Paul? You were always among the Far Right, loyal to the descendants of the throne and among the Cagoule. You welcomed the Nazis but now have chosen to switch sides. Please, at least allow me the generosity of knowing. By herself, Viviane Darnot would have kept out of it – ah yes, don’t deny you forced this girl’s mother into taking a terrible, terrible risk. A gamble, eh? The hiding of escapers first in her house and then in the villa of her former lover.’

Louis was only trying to excite Josette-Louise and turn the girl against him.

‘Well?’ shouted the Surete as they came up on to a broken rampart some ten metres above the main level of the ruins. Now there was sunshine everywhere and only the expansive blue of the sky above.

Two black eagles soared as they circled on an eddy and it was as if only the wind made a sound as it slipped over their wings so high above them.

‘It would take too long to tell you, Louis, so let us forget it, eh?’

They walked gingerly in single file along the rampart, picking their way past the gaps and over scattered blocks from once higher walls. When they came out into full view of those gathered below the village, they went up and up until they stood more than sixty metres above the base of the cliff.

Munk was now watching them through the binoculars of the SS major. Already two of the villagers had been executed. Hands tied behind their backs, the herbalist had stood against the wall and had fallen there; Dedou Fratani must have panicked at the last and run toward the guns.

The weaver, her hands also tied behind her back, stood where he had fallen and she, too, looked up towards them as did all the others.

‘The Boches will leave someday, Louis, but for now will only be satisfied with death. Yours, hers, Kohler’s …’

‘But not yours, eh? Is that how it is to be, Jean-Paul? Josette to pitch herself over the edge where her sister fell, while you, her father, go free?’

‘There is a passage, monsieur,’ said the girl hesitantly. ‘I am to show my father how to leave this place without their ever knowing it.’

‘But he has told my partner you are to take care of yourself?’

‘Yes. It … it is what I should have done in Chamonix.’

One of the SS, straining at the leashes, brought the dogs up to the Gestapo Munk and the major. The dogs! Ah Nom de Dieu , they were going to unleash them …

‘Herr Munk is finished with you, Jean-Paul. Dedou Fratani or Ludo Borel, or the weaver perhaps, has told him the truth of the maquis.’

For the first time in his life perhaps, Delphane did not know what to do. He shouted at Josette, ‘How far to the passage?’

She said, quite simply, ‘It is safer here, my father. Only then can you offer yourself and let mother go free.’

‘Idiot! They will kill her anyway. She’s English! You … you are a murderess, Josette. Do you not know what that means? The guillotine … yes, yes, screw up that face of yours. Cry , Josette! Don’t threaten me with that bow.’ He dropped his voice. ‘You cannot kill me. You who have killed your sister, have not the heart to do so again. But,’ he paused, ‘they will use the Nazi refinement of the guillotine, cherie . The axe!’

‘ Batard! ’ shrieked St-Cyr, slipping as he lunged at Delphane. A shot rang out, then another and another. Hit in the lower leg, Delphane spun away. Pushing the girl aside, he stumbled and fell – began to drag himself to cover.

‘Louis …! L … o … u … i … s! Get down, you idiot !’

It was Hermann. Ah Nom de Jesus-Christ! Blood … there was blood on his forehead and all over his face and hands …

St-Cyr raced along the wall, yelling at the top of his lungs, ‘ The dogs, Hermann! The dogs !’ He grabbed Delphane by the ankle. The Lebel swung round. A shot rang out from below. Ricocheting off a boulder, it flew up. Another followed. The girl shrieked and ran past them, lashing out at the gun in her father’s hand … still too tight a grip … too tight … Ah made , the scuffle then on the ramparts. ‘My bracelets, you bastard! Feel the clench of steel on your wrists!’

They rolled about. The revolver came at him, a savage blow …‘Ahh!… Mother of God …’ Reeling, St-Cyr tumbled away, clawing desperately at the stones … too far … too far … He saw the drop below and felt himself falling … falling …

‘Louis … Louis ! It’s me.’

Kohler dragged him up and, racing with him, got him to cover. ‘Telescopic sights, idiot!’ he swore, trying to catch his breath. ‘ Gott im Himmel , Delphane’s beat it with the girl. Now we’re going to have to ferret him out!’

‘My chest … Ah Jesus, Hermann … the breath. I must stop the smoking.’ He coughed, wheezed terribly and dragged in air as Kohler pounded him on the back. ‘The dogs, my old one. The dogs !’

‘ Verdammt ! I knew it! You okay, eh?’

St-Cyr raised a tired hand. ‘Yes, yes. I think I will live a little longer.’

‘Then maybe we’d better get away from the dogs.’

‘A passage,’ gasped St-Cyr, so fraught with worry he was waving a useless hand. ‘Josette, she has said …’

‘Hey, my old one, there is no passage. That kid is only going to lead him into a trap.’

St-Cyr blinked, gaping as he took in a breath and tried to still his aching chest. ‘Pardon?’ he bleated. ‘No passage …?’

‘Not unless I’ve missed my guess. Come on. Let’s … Ah no!’

The dogs had found the ruins. They made no sound as they raced along the ancient byways, going here, there, revealed only by their flying fur.

The girl was motioning anxiously. ‘Up here,’ she cried. ‘Quickly! Quickly, messieurs. There are few places they cannot reach.’

They ran. They made it across the little amphitheatre and in among the columns. Blood marked their trail.

Even as they scrambled up to her, Josette-Louise sighted along the crossbow. The lead dog was huge. It would throw itself at the wall. It would tear at their trouser legs …

Kohler couldn’t manage it. Loss of blood perhaps, or pain in the head from the bullet-graze Delphane had given him. ‘Louis,’ he managed. ‘ Gott im Himmel , Frog, pull me up !’

The girl fired. The Alsatian caught the bolt squarely in the chest and was carried back by it. ‘ Verdammt …’ muttered Kohler as the thing hit the ground below them. ‘ Verdammt , Louis, I’m done for.’

The kid was working the windlass like a trooper. Round and round the handles went, her foot jammed solidly into the stirrup. Then the arrow in the slot. She gave a satisfied gasp and said, ‘Now this way,’ even as the other two dogs threw themselves at the wall in a rage.

Kohler hesitated. Louis and the girl pelted along the wall, slipping, stumbling once while he held the dogs here. ‘Louis …’ he managed. ‘Louis … what was it the herbalist gave me?’

The greyish-red powder was very fine. Kohler clenched a fistful. He got down on his knees and deliberately let the dogs leap at him.