Free The Division of the Damned by Richard Rhys Jones

him. "Well, brother, will you help us carry on the family bloodline? Will you play your part for our family name? ”
    All eyes turned to Smith, waiting for an answer. Looking at them one by one, he grasped for something to say. "You'll have to give me more time to consider — " he blurted out.
    Iullia looked shocked and dropped her eyes to the ground. The c ount stiffened and only Maria seemed to nod. "How long do you need?" she asked, matter-of-factly.
    "I’m not sure. Situations like this don’t happen to me every day."     His ill-timed attempt at humour fell on stony ground. Nobody seemed happy and Smith felt uncomfortable in his failure to accommodate them. The awkward silence hammered at him until the c ount tutted and walked away towards the fire. Both women said nothing, as if waiting for his decision.
    "We can talk tomorrow," the c ount said. "I have things to see to now. I bid you a good night, brother,” he added, placing a harsh emphasis on the word ‘brother’, before storming past them and leaving the room.
    They watched him go and Smith noticed the worried looks on the faces of the two women.
    "James, ” Maria started . "I … I think you … " She trailed off and looked at him for what seemed like ages. Her face was blank, yet her eyes burned in furious turmoil. "Good night, James. We can talk in the morning." She turned and left him alone with Iullia.
    Smith struggled to explain himself to Iulia. "You must understand, I don’t mean to offend but from where I come from, it’s simply just not done like this, it just isn’t.”
    She studied him with an unconstrained lack of guile as if he were a circus curiosity. More painful silence followed before she spoke. "You must fulfil your destiny. We must fulfil our destinies. You were born to this, as I was chosen. As it is written and so it shall be." With this, she turned and walked slowly out, leaving Smith even more confused.
    This damned book was beginning to annoy him. Who said it was his destiny? As it is written so shall it be — what is that supposed to mean? Were they all like this in Romania or was it just a Transylvanian trait?
    He went up to the fire and warmed his hands. What had he gotten into? He could hardly believe the events of the last few days. It all seemed like a bad piece of theatre with no interlude for respite.
    He had to leave — tonight, if possible.
    He drew away from the hearth to peer out of one of the windows.     He caught movement outside and looked harder to make it out. What he saw made his blood freeze. Of all the shocks he had received in the last twenty-four hours, the troop of German soldiers marching in the snow towards the house was the most startling. He turned in blind panic. What was going on?
    "You want answers, English?” It was Michael. He stood in the doorway to the library looking directly at him.
    "I need to hide, if that’s what you mean,” he replied as casually as he could, though the bravado soon started to slip as the sound of the jackboots grew louder. "Can you help me, old boy?”
    "I will provide you with both answers and a good hiding place. Follow me. I’ll tell you the truth about your family and I’ll hide you from the c ount ’s newest guests."
    With that he turned and Smith followed him.
     
     

Chapter 14
     
    Rasch had stayed mercifully silent throughout the march up to the castle. Henning had taken over the map reading, leaving Von Struck with his thoughts. The men had been in good spirits at the beginning of the march, despite the demanding pace. SS Oberschütze Matheus Nau had even broken into song at one point, until Rohleder had told him to shut up. Von Struck could understand their good mood; they were in a friendly territory on an operation that, in comparison with Russia, was a holiday.
    It irked him that Rasch hadn’t trusted him with all the details of the mission. Operational security was important for any mission but this was hardly a deep penetration into enemy