Cast No Shadow, Peter Sharp [books to get back into reading txt] 📗

I will be seen as an impostor,” said Kelly.

Sybilla’s tone was flat, matter of fact.

“We will be muffled up against the cold and will leave from here walking, to the beginning of the pass on the outskirts of the village by the southern path. We will of course wave to anyone we see.”

“How will” —Kelly hesitated with the name— “Hansy arrive back with you when you return?”

“He will slip out at night and climb the pass in the dark. He can do that easily. He knows these mountains better than anyone. He will have caught up with me before I reach Bjornstad.”

Kelly leaned back and exhaled noisily. “Fine. Let’s do it!”

There was a short interchange between Gunnar and Sybilla before Sybilla turned to Kelly and nodded. “It’s agreed then. We will go tomorrow afternoon.”

Kelly nodded.

Sybilla continued, “What about your feet?”

“I’ll manage,” said Kelly determinedly. “The sooner I go the better. I’m placing you both in ever greater danger the longer I stay.”

The other two exchanged reluctant nods.

To the Mountain

Kelly watched through a small opening in the curtain as the heavily muffled figure made his way towards the house. He was moving quite swiftly despite a slight limp. Occasionally he called out to people he passed, waving conspicuously.

With a single knock he unlatched the door, shouting rather ostentatiously Kelly thought.

“Sybilla, it’s me!” Hans closed the door and walked into the living room.

After hugging his sister and kissing her affectionately, Hans Knudsen shook Kelly’s hand and introduced himself. His English was not as good as his sister’s, but he managed to converse with relative ease. As he did so he started stripping off his clothing, gesturing to Kelly to do the same.

As they exchanged clothing the small talk between the two continued, mostly about climbing. Kelly had done some climbing whilst at university, but Hans was clearly an expert.

“Did you hurt your leg in a climbing accident?” Kelly asked. Hans looked bemused. “You have a limp,” Kelly said in response to the look of puzzlement. The Norwegian laughed.

“No Dan! I don’t have a limp, you do! Sybilla told me!” He smiled at Kelly who instantly understood.

“Of course,” Kelly said. “We couldn’t have someone clearly fit walking into the house and, twenty minutes later, someone limping away from the house.”

“Exactly,” smiled the Norwegian.

Sybilla Thorstaadt and Dan Kelly crossed the road and headed up a small path towards the foot of the pass over the mountain. Someone called from a distance and Sybilla responded with a return call and a wave. Kelly half-turned and waved also.

The rest of the journey around the south of Grense was uneventful. The ground was rising slightly but Kelly felt fully recovered, apart from a little discomfort on one foot which caused the slight limp so carefully mimicked by Hans Knudsen. It was bitterly cold, but they were well muffled against the weather, wearing Norwegian climbing gear, and carrying heavy over smocks in their bergens, along with sleeping bags and a few dry rations.

He was enjoying this walk with Sybilla. He glanced at her. This seemed to be bread and butter to her; she looked totally at home in this environment. She returned his glance and smiled. Kelly had felt a distance between them since their altercation, but he hoped now that they could be friends again for the brief time they were likely to be together.

Reluctant though he was to leave this beautiful woman, to whom he was inexplicably drawn, he knew the moment was approaching when he would have no choice. When that time came, he would want to separate and be left with only the memories of her beauty, her kindness and her bravery.

The climb was steep now. The path had been hidden by the light dusting of powder snow that was falling, but Sybilla stepped out with confidence; she clearly knew the route well. They spoke rarely, but their exchanges were cordial and occasionally tender as she displayed concern for his feet and general wellbeing. Kelly’s spirits were high as night began to fall. They were walking along a tree line, approaching a small cabin.

The force of Sybilla’s charge knocked Kelly off his feet and they rolled together into the undergrowth of the forest.

“What—” Kelly began.

Sybilla instantly silenced him with a warning look. “Keep quiet!” she hissed between clenched teeth.

There was a ‘whoosh’ as a skier flashed by their position, followed by another then a third and a fourth. In the fading light Kelly recognised German soldiers in white camouflage with their rifles slung across their backs. They were disappearing into the valley and appeared not to have seen them.

Kelly breathed a sigh of relief but cursed himself for not being fully alert. He was so caught up in thoughts of the woman he accompanied, that he had allowed himself to become complacent. It was a good thing Sybilla had kept her wits about her. Kelly started to ask Sybilla about the patrol, but she silenced him again. Pointing to the cabin she said, “Let’s talk in there.”

They reached the cabin and threw their bergens down. Sybilla motioned to him to sit by her on one of the two solid wooden benches, the only furniture in the cabin. A full moon had replaced the sun and the reflected light on the white snow served to provide an unexpected level of illumination within the cabin.

Sybilla had taken off her top layer of clothing and Kelly did the same.

“Where did that patrol come from?” asked Kelly, still feeling rueful about not spotting it.

“From the plant,” Sybilla responded. “Come, I’ll show you.” She gently took his arm and led him outside. They moved onto a high tree-covered mound, under which the cabin sheltered, and Sybilla pointed to some faint twinkling lights in the far distance.

“There!” she said. “That’s the heavy water plant.”

“What in God’s name is ‘heavy water’?” asked Kelly, remembering he had heard it spoken of once before. He was reluctant to remember the circumstances.

“We’ll talk inside.” She led him back to the cabin