Evil in a Mask by Dennis Wheatley Read Free Book Online

the barn, the tall leader of their rescuers and his men had thrown open their voluminous furs, beneath them they wore no sort of uniform. Still wondering vaguely and with some apprehension about what the future held for him, he fell asleep.
    He, and those with him, did not wake until late in the afternoon. They were aroused by the big man and the fair woman with the huge breasts coming up the ladder to the loft.
    The man no longer wore furs, and was dressed in a kaftan. He was broad-shouldered as well as tall. His head was crowned by an unruly mop of flaxen hair, and he had a smooth, aggressive chin. Looking down on them, he gave a laugh, slapped the woman on the backside and said in his heavy German:
    â€˜I am Baron Herman von Znamensk, and this is my wife Freda. She will look to your wounds, so that in time you will be able men again. That may take a few weeks; but no matter. By then either your army will be deep in the heart of Russia, or the Czar will have driven it back in confusion. Either way, it will be too distant for there to be any chance of your being rescued by one of its columns.’
    For a moment he paused, then, his steel-blue eyes flashing hatred, he snarled, ‘You French swine and your self-styled Emperor have torn my country apart. Without cause or justification you have descended like a swarm of locusts to devourour means of livelihood. Every head of cattle, every quintal of wheat has been stolen by you from my outlying farms. But the four of you shall pay me for that. Henceforth you are my serfs, and shall labour for the rest of your lives, under the whip of my overseer, making good the damage that your upstart Emperor has done me and mine.’

3
An Appalling Future
    It was a sentence too terrible to contemplate. To have become a prisoner of war, however unfortunate, was one thing; to have become the chattel of this blond giant for an indefinite period quite another.
    For a moment Roger remained silent. To show angry resentment would, he knew, prove futile; so, in a quiet voice he began:
    â€˜Herr Baron, I appreciate your feelings at the losses you have suffered during this campaign; but there is a better way to recoup them than by detaining us here to labour on your land. I am an officer, and …’
    â€˜You were,’ sneered the woman. ‘But now you are no better than any other man and, when your ankle is mended, you shall plough and hoe for us.’
    â€˜
Gnädige Frau
.’ Roger forced a smile. ‘I am not only an officer. I am an
aide-de-camp
, and the personal friend of the Emperor. I pray you, send word to him that I am here. I have no doubt at all that he will ransom me, and the three men you have taken prisoner with me, for a much greater sum than you could make from ten years of our labour.’
    The Baron gave a harsh laugh. ‘Send a message to your bloody-minded, war-mongering Emperor? And what then? A squadron of Hussars would arrive here overnight, rape the women, drive off the cattle, hang me and burn the castle to the ground. Is it likely? No, my fine cock sparrow, you are staying here and when your ankle is mended we’ll measure out the amount of turnip soup you are given each night in proportion to the sweat you have exuded during the day.’
    Obviously for the moment there was no more to be said.While the Baron looked on, Freda of the wobbling breasts redressed their wounds. As she finished with the last of them, one of the Baron’s men came up the ladder with a big basin of the vegetable soup. When he had ladled it out into tin pannikins, all four of the prisoners ate of it ravenously despite its indifferent flavour.
    Looking on at them, the Baron smacked his man cheerfully on the back and said with a smile, ‘This is Kutzie, my overseer. You will obey him as you would myself, or it will be the worse for you.’
    Kutzie was a small, thickset man. He had an oafish grin which displayed a gap in his front teeth where two of them