Larsen said, 'You are right, Sergeant. I know I could do with a proper rest. If we keep going like this, none of us will make it, let alone Professor Sandvold.'
Professor? Tanner looked down at him - the gaunt face, unkempt moustache, the dark rings and wrinkles round the eyes. Just what was this man's secret? He wondered whether he would ever know.
'I'll talk to Chevannes,' said Larsen.
'There are farmsteads along this side of the valley,' added Nielssen. 'It's west-facing here so they will be quite high.'
'We must be careful,' said Tanner. 'With the Germans in the valley, it'll be hard to know who to trust. There'll be a lot at stake for the civilians.'
'I doubt we will find many pro-Germans up here, if that is what you mean,' said Nielssen.
Tanner yawned. 'I suppose there's risk with every move we make. It's a matter of balancing that risk. Right now, we need rest urgently. If that means we have to take our chance with some farmer, then so be it.'
'Hot food.' Nielssen smiled. 'I would risk a lot for that right now.'
It began to snow, only lightly, but Tanner was pleased to see the flakes drifting down from the blanket of grey above them. There was, of course, every chance that Zellner and his men would free themselves and get off the mountain, despite the strength of the fuse and the tightness with which he and Sykes had bound them. And then what? It wouldn't take them long to get down to the valley, where they would fetch help and begin to search the mountain once more. Had it been a cold, clear night, the enemy would have found their tracks with ease. They should have killed the prisoners, he reflected, but he knew he would have had no stomach for murdering men in cold blood, and neither would his men. War was cruel and hard, but there were still some lines that could not be crossed.
He tilted his face to the sky and felt the flakes land and dissolve. At least the snow would hide their tracks. That was something.
He now saw Sandvold lift himself to his feet, then reach back to the tree for support. 'Shall I get you a stick, Professor? Would that help?'
'Thank you, yes.'
Tanner picked up a fallen pine branch, cut off the loose twigs with his sword bayonet, than handed it to him.
'Thank you, Sergeant.' He straightened his back, grimaced, then said, 'You know, I never in my wildest dreams imagined anything like this.'
'Having to escape the Germans?'
'Yes, if you like, but Norway being at war. It's so incredible. We may have been Norsemen once, Sergeant Tanner, but that was a long, long time ago. We have forgotten how to fight. We are a peaceful nation - a nation that makes no claim on other land and wants no part in other people's arguments. All my life, Norway has been like this - a neutral country. While you were destroying each other twenty years ago, we Norwegians were getting on with our lives. And yet here we are, tramping across a mountain at dawn, praying we will not be captured and shot.' He shook his head. 'Do you have a family, Sergeant?' he asked suddenly.
'No,' Tanner replied. 'Only the Army.'
'A bachelor like me,' Sandvold smiled, 'wedded to your work. But I do have a mother still alive. At least, I pray she is. I was supposed to leave Oslo, you know,' he added, 'told to leave the moment the invasion began, but my mother would not come with me. She said she was too old to run away and that she was not sure she wanted to live if she could not stay in our home in Oslo. Well, it has been her home for more than fifty years, so I suppose she had a point. I felt I could not leave her - my own mother, how could I? And then one day Colonel Gulbrand arrived with three men and suddenly the matter was no longer in my hands. My mother wept when I left. It is ridiculous, I know, but I am worried about her and I know she will be worried about me. And all because of my work - work that I thought would benefit Norway. Now I discover that what I know is so valuable that my own countrymen will kill me rather than let me fall into enemy hands.' He sighed again. 'There has been much time to think since I left Oslo - since I left my mother weeping at the door of the house. And if I am honest,' he chuckled mirthlessly, 'I have drawn few conclusions, except that everything I believed in and thought to be right seems to have been turned on its head. It is as though a kind of madness has descended. The war is like a plague or flood or some other biblical pestilence. It rips our world apart, bringing nothing but suffering and, it seems to me, achieving very little. I pray it will be over soon, but that seems unlikely, yes?'
'God only knows,' said Tanner.
'What am I trying to say to you, Sergeant? I am saying that I would be most grateful if you could get me to safety. I want to help my country, not become a martyr for her. And I also want to live for the sake of my mother, if that is not too sentimental.'
'Why are you asking me this?' asked Tanner. 'Lieutenant Chevannes is in charge. And there are two of your countrymen to guard you too.'
Sandvold smiled. 'Yes, I like your use of the word. It makes me feel rather like a prisoner, which I suppose in a way I am. But I am saying this to you because I know what Colonel Gulbrand told you. Yes, I know. I left you and Gulbrand to talk, but I heard every word. And, as it happens, I agree with him. You are evidently a highly capable soldier, Sergeant. Even a pacifist like me can see that.'
'Thank you,' said Tanner quietly. 'Then you will have heard me give Gulbrand my word, which stands now as it did then. I can't promise anything, Professor, but I'll do my best.'
Whether it was what Tanner had said earlier, or the snow, or whether Chevannes had been persuaded by the Norwegians, the French lieutenant appeared to agree that they should find a farmstead in which to lie up and rest. They were now a couple of miles north of Tretten, beneath a peak known as the Vangsberget, and following the course of another shallow ravine. Now several hundred feet below the lip of the high plateau, they were walking through increasingly dense forest, so dark that the only glimpse of daylight came from above the mountain stream. They emerged along the top of a mountain pasture. The snow had stopped falling. At the far end of the field there was an old gate and beyond that a path, clearly well trodden.
Nielssen and Larsen led them along the track, which wound its way in a series of hairpin bends, then straightened out and ended at an old farmstead. It looked much like the others Tanner had seen, a large barn with a bright red tin roof and a stone ramp leading to the first floor, a cluster of other outbuildings and a main house of white clapperboard with a high pitched roof and carvings along the edges.
As they had the previous evening, the two Norwegian officers approached cautiously while the rest waited. The promise of warmth and food was intoxicating. Tanner watched Larsen and Nielssen reach the front, and heard a dog bark. His stomach churned with hunger.
Anxious minutes. Tanner could see the tension and exhaustion on the faces of every man. And there were the wounded to think of too - Riggs, Saxby and the French Chasseur. All three had shown stoic fortitude as they had been roughly carried over and down the mountain. The Frenchman had a bullet through the leg, but while none of the wounds were yet serious, Tanner was keenly aware they soon would be. His rudimentary antiseptic had not worked on Gulbrand and there was every chance it would fail these lads too. They needed proper help if they were to avoid gangrene and septicaemia - merciless killers both.
The valley was quiet. Tretten village, a short way to the south, was hidden from view, as were the road and railway below, but Tanner could see the river, now widening into a lake, and beyond, the densely forested valley sides.
A figure appeared at the door - Larsen - and beckoned them in. Relief.
'Bloody hooray,' grinned Sykes, who, with Hepworth, picked up the wounded Riggs. 'All right, Riggsy?' he said. 'Soon have you cleaned up, mate.'
Riggs smiled. 'Cheers, Corp,' he said.
