The Dragon in the Sword Read Online Free PDF Page A

originally?”
    I saw no point in telling him too much of my life as John Daker, nor in mentioning that I had been born into a world where Hitler was defeated. I had long learned that such revelations frequently had disastrous consequences. He was here not merely to escape but also to find a means of destroying the monster who had taken possession of his country’s soul. Anything I said might divert him from our destiny. For all I knew, von Bek might have been responsible for defeating Hitler! I explained as much of my own circumstances as I thought politic and even this was enough to leave him open-mouthed.
    “The fact remains,” I told him, “that neither you nor I is any better equipped to deal with this world. At least you have the advantage of knowing your own name!”
    “You have no memory at all of Maaschanheem?”
    “None. The only thing I seem to have is my usual facility to speak whatever language prevails on whatever plane I find myself. You said you had a map?”
    “A family heirloom which I lost in that fight I told you of, with the little armoured boys who tried to drag me off. It was not very specific. It had been drawn up, I would guess, some time in the fifteenth century. It enabled me to reach this place and I had hoped it would enable me to leave when my reasons for being here were over, but now I fear I’m stuck here for good unless I find someone to aid me in leaving.”
    “The place is populated, at least. You have already encountered some of the inhabitants. There may be those who can help you.”
    We made a peculiar pair. I was dressed in clothing which seemed appropriate for the terrain, with tall boots to my thighs, a kind of long-handled brass hook at my belt (like a heavy salmon gaff), a curved knife with a serrated blade and a pouch containing some edible dried meat, some coins, a block of ink, a writing stick and a few rather grubby pieces of rag paper. It gave me no real clue as to my trade but at least I did not have the misfortune to be dressed in a ragged grey flannel suit, a rather loud fairisle pullover and a collarless shirt. I offered von Bek my cloak but he refused for the moment. He said he had become used to the rather melancholy weather of this place.
    We were in a strange sort of world. The grey clouds very occasionally parted and let down some thin sunshine which illuminated shallow waters in every direction. The world seemed to consist of long strips of low-lying land divided by swamps and creeks. Hardly any tall trees grew there. Only a few shrubs offered cover to the oddly coloured waterbirds and bizarre little animals we occasionally sighted. We sat together on a mound of grass staring around us and chewing on the dried meat I had found. Von Bek (he added with some embarrassment that he was a count in Germany) was ravenous and it was obvious he could scarcely contain himself from devouring the food before he had properly chewed it. We agreed that we might as well stick together, since we were both in similar circumstances. He pointed out that his purpose here was to find a means of destroying Hitler and that this would always be paramount with him. I said that I too was determined to accomplish a particular task but that so long as my self-interest was not directly challenged I would be more than happy to count him as an ally.
    It was at this point that von Bek’s eyes narrowed and he pointed behind me. Turning, I saw in the far distance what looked like a building of some description. I was certain I had not seen it there before, but assumed it had been hidden in mist. It was too far away to make out details. “Nonetheless,” I said, “we’d be well advised to head in that direction.”
    Count von Bek agreed enthusiastically. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” he said. He had improved physically and mentally, thanks to food and rest, and seemed a cheerful, stoical individual. What we used to call “the best type of German” when I was at school all those