Partisans (26 page)

‘That's nice,' George said.

‘What is?'

‘Well,' George said reasonably, ‘if we're taking our baggage with us it's hardly likely that you're going to shoot us out of hand.'

‘To be a comedian is bad enough. To be a buffoon, insufferable.' He turned back to Petersen. ‘How many of the eight have their baggage here? Men and women, I mean?'

‘Five. Three of us have our baggage in a hut about fifty yards away – myself and those two gentlemen here.'

‘Slavko. Sava.' This to two of his men. ‘This man Alex will show you where the hut is. Bring the baggage back. Search it very carefully first. And be just as careful in watching this man. He has an appalling record.' For a fleeting moment the expression on Alex's face made Crni's statement more than credible. ‘Hurry nothing, watch everything.' He looked at his watch. ‘We have forty minutes left.'

In less than half that time all the luggage had been packed and collected. George said: ‘I know I'm not allowed to ask a question so may I make a statement? Oh, that's a question, too. I want to make a statement.'

‘What?'

‘I'm thirsty.'

‘I see no harm.'

‘Thank you.' George had opened a bottle and downed a glass of wine in what appeared near-impossible time.

‘Try that other bottle,' Crni suggested. George blinked, frowned, but willingly did what he was told. ‘Seems satisfactory. My men could do with a specific against the cold.'

‘Seems satisfactory?' George stared at him. ‘You suggest that I could have doctored some bottles, poisoned bottles, against just such an impossible eventuality? Me? A faculty dean? A learned academic? A – a –'

‘Some academics are more learned than others. You'd have done the same.' Three of his men took a glass: the other two held their unwavering guns. There was a discouraging certainty about everything Crni said and did: he seemed to take the minutest precautions against anything untoward, including, as George had said, the impossible eventuality.

Metrovi
said: ‘What happens to Major Rankovi
and myself?'

‘You remain behind.'

‘Dead?'

‘Alive. Bound and gagged but alive. We are not
etniks. We do not murder helpless soldiers, far less helpless civilians.'

‘Nor do we.'

‘Of course not. Those thousands of Muslims who perished in south Serbia died by their own hands. Cowards, were they not?'

Metrovi
made no reply.

‘And how many more thousand Serbians – men, women and children – were massacred in Croatia, with the most bestial atrocities ever recorded in the Balkans, just because of their religion?'

‘We had no hand in that. The Ustaša are no soldiers, just undisciplined terrorists.'

‘The Ustaša are your allies. Just as the Germans are your allies. Remember Kragujevac, Major, where the Partisans killed ten Germans and the Germans rounded up and shot five thousand Yugoslav citizens? Marched the children out of schools and shot them in droves until even the execution squads were sickened and mutinied? Your allies. Remember the retreat from U
ice where the German tanks rolled backwards and forwards over the fields until all the wounded Partisans lying there had been crushed to death? Your allies. The guilt of your murderous friends is your guilt too. Much as we would like to treat you in the same fashion we will not. I have my orders and, besides, you are at least technically our allies.' Crni's voice was heavy with contempt.

Metrovi
said: ‘You are Partisans.'

‘God forbid!' The revulsion in Crni's face was momentary but unmistakable. ‘Do we look like guerrilla rabble? We are paratroopers of the Murge division.' The Murge was the best Italian division then operating in south-east Europe. ‘Your allies, as I said.' Crni gestured towards the eight prisoners. ‘You harbour a nest of vipers. You can't recognize them as such, far less know what to do with them. We can do both.'

Metrovi
looked at Petersen. ‘I think I owe you an apology, Peter. Last night I didn't know whether to believe your assessment or not. It seemed so fantastic. Not any more. You were right.'

‘Much good that's done me. My forecast, I mean. I was twentyfour hours out.'

‘Tie them up,' Crni said.

Immediately after leaving the hut, to nobody's surprise, they were joined by two other soldiers: Crni was not the man to spend almost an hour inside any place without having a guard posted outside. That those were élite troops was beyond question. It was a bitter night, with driving snow, a biting wind and zero visibility but Crni and his men not only put up with the extreme conditions but seemed positively to revel in them.

Metrovi
had been wrong more than once the previous night. He had said that nobody was going to be moving around the mountains in those impossible weather conditions for days to come: Crni and his men were there to prove him wrong.

Once they were well clear of the camp Crni and his men produced torches. The prisoners were arranged so that they trudged on in single file through the deepening snow – it was already almost knee-high – while four of the guards walked on either side of them. By and by, at a command from Crni, they halted.

Crni said: ‘Here, I'm afraid, we have to tie you up. Your wrists. Behind your backs.'

‘I'm surprised you haven't done it before,' Petersen said. ‘I'm even more surprised that you want to do it now. You have in mind to kill us all, perhaps?'

‘Explain yourself.'

‘We are at the head of that track leading down the mountain-side to the valley floor?'

‘How do you know?'

‘Because the wind hasn't changed since yesterday. You have ponies?'

‘Two only. For the ladies. That was all you required yesterday.'

‘You are very well informed. And the rest of us are to have our hands bound behind our backs just in case we feel tempted to give you or one of your men a brisk shove over the precipice. Mistake, Captain Crni, mistake. Out of character.'

‘Indeed?'

‘Two reasons. The surface of that rock is broken and slippery with either ice or hard-packed snow. If a man slips on that surface how is he, with his hands tied behind his back, going to grab at the ground to stop himself sliding over the edge – and how's he going to be able to maintain his balance in the first place with his hands tied? To keep your balance you have to be able to stretch both arms wide. You should know that. It's as good as sending people to their deaths. Second reason is that your men don't have to be anywhere near the prisoners. Four of them well in advance, four well behind, the prisoners, maybe with a couple of torches, in the middle. What positive action could the prisoners take then except commit suicide by jumping off the precipice? I can assure you that none of them is in the least suicidally inclined.'