The Vampire Affair - McDaniel David (читать книги без TXT) 📗

They looked about them for a moment. The sounds behind them on the road stopped, then came cautiously closer. Another blood-chilling howl sounded in front of them, and another to their left.

"Let's go this way," said Napoleon impetuously, pointing right.

"Leave the road?" said Illya doubtfully.

"I'd rather be lost for the night than permanently," said Napoleon. "We have eight rounds each in these rods, and I wouldn't want to count on them being enough to discourage our furry friends out there."

"I think I see your point," said Illya, and they stepped off the road.

Almost at once they were surrounded by pitch blackness. Napoleon could avoid bumping into trees by walking cautiously and keeping his hands extended. He could usually spot a tree a few feet away as a lump of darker black, but it was a risky business. City-bred eyes do not adjust to absolute darkness easily.

Then there was a dim yellow glow near him. Illya was holding a small pen-light, and directing its feeble beam on the ground ahead of them. His voice came softly from behind it. "I just remembered I had this clipped in my inside pocket. The battery is low, but it may help."

"It does. I think we've lost the..."

There was a whine and a snuffling sound a short distance behind them, followed by two howls, almost simultaneous, from either side. "Don't look now," said Illya, "but I think we're being followed."

They used the pen-light sparingly from then on, and communicated as little as possible. Once Napoleon tripped over a tree-root and fell sprawling, and it took thirty seconds or more for them to find his gun, which had flown from his hand and landed in a pile of leaves.

But every time they stopped to listen, there were sounds behind them in the night. Once or twice they heard soft sounds of dried leaves being crushed beneath the feet of some heavy animal, and once, while they were searching for a way through a tangle of brush, Illya's light caught a pair of slitted green eyes no more than twenty feet away—eyes which faded back into the darkness among the trees even as they looked, and were gone before Napoleon could bring his automatic to bear.

Then, after an unguessable length of time, he felt something solid under his feet. He was just about to comment on it when Illya's light flicked on, and then off again. In the brief moment of illumination, they saw it was a path—bare, brown and winding. As they looked at each other in the dark, something snuffled in the brush just ahead of them and to the right. Illya whispered, "Let's go left—and stay on the path."

They could tell the way by the feel of the ground underfoot when they wandered off the path, and a moment of dim light would put them right again. The noises in the night stayed behind them and to both sides as they hurried along, and gradually the path began to rise. It turned oftener, too, and soon they were starting up a fairly steep hill.

Then suddenly there was a patch of something against the grassy side of the hill. Illya's light danced over it, and vanished into a small cave. Just then there was a soft, menacing growl just ahead of them.

Illya said quickly, "This looks like a cozy place to spend the night. It also has a conveniently narrow mouth. After you."

They stepped inside, ducking under the low ridge of rock that guarded the entrance. Illya shone his light around, and saw only the rough walls of natural stone. There was no indication of occupancy other than an ancient burned area on the floor just inside the entrance. The back of the cave, rough and convoluted, could be seen dimly just within the limits of the beam.

"Got any wood?" asked Napoleon. "A fire would go well right now."

"Wood's right outside," said Illya. "If you want a fire, you have my full permission to gather the fuel for it."

Napoleon looked thoughtfully out at the night. "Should have collected a few sticks as we came along," he said. "Well, I think under the circumstances we can get along without one...."

He listened for a while. There were no more sounds outside—the pack had either gone on or was waiting. After a minute or two he said, "On the other hand, we both need to sleep eventually. Maybe if I just went to the nearest tree and..."

He looked outside and stopped. There seemed to be something out there. More than something—some things. He held out his hand, and wordlessly Illya placed the pen-light in it.

In the faint yellow glow, there were twenty or thirty shaggy gray shapes standing in a half-circle some twenty feet away, green eyes catching the light and glittering like emeralds. Gradually they began moving in on the mouth of the cave.

"On the other hand," he continued very softly, "there are definite advantages to staying in the cave, even without a fire."

"The mouth is narrow," said Illya. "We can shoot them as fast as they come in—if the bullets will affect them."

Napoleon looked at his partner with an expression which was lost in the darkness, perhaps fortunately for both of them. But before he could frame a comment, a third voice spoke softly out of the blackness of the cave behind them. "That should not be necessary, gentlemen," it said in Rumanian.

It said a great deal for both Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin that neither of them dropped their guns or fired at the sound. Napoleon did take several seconds to bring up the light and direct it into the dead-end of the cave, but his hand was steady as he did so.

The faint spot slithered across the uneven floor, and paused on a pair of shiny black boots. After a moment it crept up the front of a black cloak wrapped about the tall figure who stood there, his back to a solid rock wall. The light stopped on the white face above the cloak, which stood out against the darkness like the luminescence of a rotting tree stump.

His eyes narrowed against the dim light, but after a moment he took a slow soundless step forward and spoke again. "Iertati-ma. I beg pardon—my pets are unusually restive tonight. If you will permit me..."

Neither Napoleon nor Illya felt like contesting his right of way as he moved toward the cave entrance. He passed between them and they looked out as he stood in the door facing the circle of fangs, which was now almost close enough to touch. He raised his arms, and the full black cloak hung from them like leathery wings as he faced the wolves and said in a soft but ringing voice, "Not yet, my dear ones. It is not yet time."

And then, without a growl or another sound, the wolves turned as one and vanished into the forest. He stood a few more seconds, then slowly lowered his arms, and gathered his cloak about him before turning to face the U.N.C.L.E. agents again. He stepped back into the cave as he said, "My sincere apologies for this...incident. When you leave, take that path. It will lead you to your automobile. I suggest you return directly to the village."

He stepped aside to let them pass him. Napoleon looked doubtfully at Illya and murmured in English, "But the wolves might just be..."

"Let's go, Napoleon," said Illya in a fierce whisper, and started out. Napoleon followed him, noticing that his automatic was still in his hand, and slipped it back into its holster.

Just as he stepped through the entrance behind Illya, Napoleon thought of something and turned around. "Multumesc," he said. "Thank you for the..." He stopped as the glow from the pen-light swept around the barren rock walls of the sides and back of the empty cave.

* * *

They found their car as promised at the end of the path, waiting as if it had been there all along. The fog was thinner, and a few stars were visible to give them the direction to the village. It was only shortly after 10:00 P.M. when they pulled up behind Satul Contru.