Free The Call of the Thunder Dragon by Michael J Wormald Page A

onto
the shore with the help of some honest fishermen. Once on the soft
sandy shore it had been easy to wheel the Caproni. Zam and Falstaff
directed from the cockpit.
    They moved up the shore quickly.
There was no lack of enthusiasm from the team of fishermen. They
shouted urging themselves on until they were well up the path into
the woodland. Taken off the road into a clearing, beside a pile of
lumber waiting to be cleared they rolled to a rest. The crowd that
had gathered disappeared and the fishermen went on their way with a
friendly wave.
    “Well, we did ask for somewhere
out of sight!”
    Falstaff dropped to the ground
from the cockpit, his legs giving way. “Ouch! I’ve had happier
landings! Oh! God, that hurts!” He touched his side and fainted
gasping for breath.
    Zam regarded the filthy, oil
covered pilot, she decided it wasn’t entirely fair to judge him on
present circumstances, perhaps a bath was what he needed, after
all?
     
     
    “Oh, Bugger!” Was all Falstaff
managed to roar before the rickshaw bounced again. He slid forward,
collapsing into the road as the rickshaw puller stopped outside the
hotel.
    Zam pursed her lips. Her eyebrow
raised at Falstaff’s dramatics. They had left the Red Caproni
secured and covered with canvas tarpaulins. It was now early
evening. Falstaff had moaned about his ribs and pain right through
the work, which she had to partly assist with.
    Falstaff didn’t remember how he
got to his room. He just lay still insensible on the floor, while
the ceiling spun around him. Zam arranged everything. Tea was being
prepared as Zam’s bags were brought in. Falstaff had nothing. All
his clothes having gone up in smoke in the tent on the airfield
that morning.
    Zam undid his collar, pulling off
the red silk scarf wrapped around his neck. To her surprise, he had
no shirt and was wearing only a vest underneath his leather
coat.
    “I was in a hurry. I missed
breakfast and just hopped straight into the first plane I could
find!” Falstaff said happily, the pain still evident beneath the
facade.
    Zam held up the red silk scarf,
still warm from Falstaff’s neck. She spread the scarf out. It was a
short silk charmeuse nightgown, with a black lace front.
    “No way! You’re crazy, you horny
man!” Zam threw it aside.
    “Well, I really was in a hurry to
dress, the Japanese really know to interrupt things when they’re
going well!”
    Zam leaned over him, frowning, so
her eyebrows came down to meet at a sharp angle. Falstaff stared at
the sharp little crease in the centre of her forehead. She looks
like a worried Ox when she’s cross thought Falstaff, but look at
those pouting lips.
    He managed to lift his right arm
and place it around her shoulders. He tried to pull her down to
kiss him, but she pulled away, he fingers curled angrily, twisting
the silk garment in her fist.
    “She didn’t mean anything to me.
It was just one of those things! A Mayor’s banquet. Drink and, of
course, many merry and thankful ladies on hand, and all that?”
    “I do not like men who go with
sluts!” Zam said firmly.
    “She wasn’t a slut. It was the
Mayor’s daughter!” Falstaff protested. “A slip of a girl, you’d
fill that nightie much more nicely, much… fuller!”
    “Quiet!” Zam touched his lips
then handed him some tea. “Drink up!”
    Falstaff drank the tea in
silence. He his head throbbed and his ribs were so stiff he
couldn’t move. Propped up with pillows, he was able to see the
beautiful hotel room and to one side and a view of the lake on the
other. Zam fussed in the background giving instructions to the
chambermaids as they scuttled around.
    “We’ve sent for a doctor, his
name is Tian Yong. He is a good doctor. He used to be in the army,
he fought with the communists in Shanghai. He has much experience
with wounds.” Zam spoke with pauses still clutching for her words.
Falstaff with no choice, now entirely in Zam’s care, he lay back
and relaxed.
     
     
    Falstaff woke a