Power Of The Sword Part 40

Running shoes, all you lazy young dogs. A quick ten miles before supper, please! Heidi was waiting for them when they came down to breakfast, gay and bright and smiling, answering their questions, distributing mail from home, sorting out a dozen small problems quickly and without fuss, and then when they had eaten, taking them off in a group to the bus station.

Most of the athletes from the other countries were in residence, and the village was bustling and full of tense excitement, men and women in sporting attire running through the streets, calling to each other in a multiplicity of tongues, their superb physical condition showing in their bright young faces and in every movement that they made.

When they came to the stadium, the size of it awed them all. A huge complex of halls, gymnasiums and covered swirnMing-pools surrounded the oval track and field theatre. The banks of seating seemed to reach away for ever, and the Olympic altar at the far end with the unlit tripod torch gave a sense of religious solemnity to this temple devoted to the worship of the human body.

It took the morning for them to see it all, and they had a hundred questions between them. Heidi answered them all, but more than once Manfred found her walking beside him, and when they spoke German together it gave them a sense of intimacy, even in the crowd. it was not his imagination alone, for Roelf had noticed the special attention Manfred was receiving.

How are you enjoying your German lessons? he asked innocently at lunch, and when Manfred snarled at him he grinned unrepentantly.

Their hosts had arranged sparring partners from the local boxing clubs, and over the days that followed, Uncle Tromp drove them hard towards the pinnacle of their training.

Manfred tore at his opponents, slamming punches into the thick padding that covered their midriffs and heads, so that even with that protection none of them lasted more than a round or two before calling for quarter; and when Manfred went back to his corner and looked around it was usually to find Heidi Kramer watching from somewhere near at hand, a flush on her flawless neck, a strange intent look in those impossibly blue eyes, her lips slightly parted and the tip of her pink tongue held between sharp white teeth.

However, it was only after four days of training that he found himself alone with her. He had finished a hard session in the gymnasium and after showering and changing into grey slacks and a Varsity sweater, he went out through the front entrance of the stadium.

He had almost reached the bus station when she called his name and ran to catch up with him.

I am also going back to the village. I have to talk to the chef - may I ride the bus with you? She must have been waiting for him and he felt flattered and a little nervous.

She had a free, hip-swinging walk, and her hair swayed around her head like a sheet of golden silk when she looked up at him as they walked down to the bus station.

I have been watching the boxers from the other countries, she said, especially the light heavyweights, and I have also been watching you. Yes. He frowned to cover his embarra.s.sment. I saw you., You have n.o.body to fear, except the American. Cyrus Lomax, he nodded. 'Yes, Ring Magazine rates him the best amateur light heavyweight in the world. Uncle Tromp has been watching him also. He agrees that he is very good. Very strong, and being a n.i.g.g.e.r, he will have a skull like solid ivory. He is the only one you will have to beat for the gold, she agreed. The gold, the sound of it on her lips had a music that quickened his pulse. And I will be there cheering for you., Thank you, Heidi. They boarded the bus, and when the men in the other seats glanced at Heidi with admiration, he felt proud to have her at his side.

My uncle is a great follower of boxing. He thinks as I do, that you have a good chance of beating the American negro.

He would like very much to meet you. It is kind of your uncle. 'He is having a small reception at his home this evening.

He asks me to invite you. You know that is not possible, he shook his head. My training schedule, My uncle is an important and very influential man,, she insisted, holding her head on one side and smiling appealingly up at him. it will be very early. I promise you will be home before nine o'clock. She saw him hesitate and went on, It will make my uncle, and me, very happy., I have an uncle also, Uncle Tromp, If I get your Uncle Tromp's permission, will you promise to come? Heidi was waiting in the Mercedes at the front door of their house in the village at seven o'clock, as she had arranged. The driver held the rear door open for him and Manfred slid onto the leather seat beside her.

She smiled at him. You look very handsome, Manfred., She had plaited her blond hair into two thick gleaming ropes and piled them on top of her head. Her shoulders and the upper slopes of her stately bosom were bare and snowy perfection. Her blue taffeta c.o.c.ktail dress matched the colour of her eyes perfectly.

You are beautiful, he said with wonder in his tone. He had never paid a compliment to a woman before, but this was a mere statement of fact. She lowered her eyes, a touchingly modest gesture from someone who must be accustomed to male adulation.

To the Rupertstra.s.se, she ordered the driver.

They drove slowly down the Kurfarstendamin, watching the throngs of merry-makers on the brightly lit sidewalks, then the Mercedes accelerated as they entered the quieter streets of the westerly section of the Granewald district.

This was the millionaires, village on the western outskirts of the sprawling city, and Manfred relaxed and settled back against the leather upholstery and turned to the lovely woman beside him. She was talking seriously, asking him questions about himself and his family, and about his country. Quickly he realized that she had a much better knowledge of South Africa than he could have expected, and he wondered how she had acquired it.

She knew the history of war and conflict and rebellion, the struggle of his people against the barbarous black tribes, and then the subjugation of the Afrikaner by the British, and the terrible threats to their existence as a people.

The English, she said, and there was a knife-edge of bitterness in her tone. They are everywhere, bringing war and suffering with them, Africa, India, my own Germany. We too have been oppressed and persecuted. if it were not for our beloved Fithrer, we should still be staggering under the yoke of the Jew and the English. Yes, he is a great man, your Fahrer, Manfred agreed and then he quoted: What we must fight for is to safeguard the existence and reproduction of our race and our people, the sustenance of our children and the purity of our blood, the freedom and independence of the fatherland, so that our people may mature for the fulfilment of the mission allotted it by the creator of the universe. Wein Kampf, she exclaimed. You can quote the words of the Fuhrer! They had pa.s.sed a signing ant milestone in their relationship, Manfred realized.

With those words he has captured everything that I feel and believe, he said. He is a great man, head of a great nation. The house in the Rupertstra.s.se was set back from the road in large gardens on the bank of one of the beautiful Havel Lakes. There were a dozen chauffeured limousines parked in the driveway, most of them with swastika pennants on their bonnets and uniformed chauffeurs waiting behind the wheels. All the windows of the large house were lit and there was the sound of music and voices and laughter as their own chauffeur let them out of the Mercedes under the portico.

Manfred offered Heidi his arm and they went in through the open front doors, crossed a lobby of black and white chequered marble slabs and panelled walls decorated with a forest of stag antlers, and paused in the doorway of the large reception room beyond. The room was already filled with guests. Most of the men were in dashing uniforms that glittered with the insignia of rank and regiment, while the women were elegant in silks and velvets, with shoulders bare and hair bobbed in the latest style.

The laughter and conversation subsided as they turned to examine the newcomers, and there were interested and calculating appraisals, for Manfred and Heidi made a strikingly handsome couple. Then the conversation picked up again.

There is Uncle Sigmund, Heidi exclaimed, and drew Manfred into the room towards the tall uniformed figure who came to meet them.

Heidi, my dear. He stooped over Heidi's hand as he kissed it. 'You grow more beautiful each time I see you., Manfred, this is my uncle, Colonel Sigmund Boldt. Uncle Sigmund, may I present Herr Manfred De La Rey, the South African boxer. Colonel Boldt shook hands with Manfred. He had pure white hair sc.r.a.ped severely back from the thin face of an academic, with good bone structure and a narrow aristocratic nose.

Heidi tells me that you are of German extraction? He wore a black uniform with silver death's head insignia on the lapels; and one eyelid drooped, while the eye itself watered uncontrollably and he dabbed at it with the fine linen handkerchief he held in his right hand.

That is true, Colonel. I have very strong ties to your country, Manfred replied.

Ah, you speak excellent German. The colonel took his arm. 'There are many people here this evening who will want to meet you, but first tell me, what do you think of the black American boxer, Cyrus Lomax? And what will be your tactics when you meet him? With discreet social grace, either Heidi or Colonel Boldt were always on hand to steer him from one group of guests to the next, and the wine waiter brought him a gla.s.s of mineral water when he refused the champagne that was offered.

However, they left him longer than usual with one guest whom Heidi had introduced as General Zoller, a tall Prussian officer in field grey uniform with an iron cross at the throat who, despite a rather undistinguished and forgettable face with pale sickly features, proved to have a sharp incisive intelligence. He questioned Manfred minutely on the politics and conditions in South Africa, particularly as to the feelings of the average Afrikaner towards their ties to Great Britain and the Empire.

While they spoke, General Zoller chain-smoked a series of thin cigarettes wrapped in yellow paper with a strong herbal odour, and every now and again he wheezed with asthma. Manfred quickly found that he was sympathetic and had an encyclopaedic grasp of African affairs; the time pa.s.sed very quickly before Heidi came across the room and touched his arm.

Excuse me, General Zoller, but I have promised the boxing coach that I will have his star back before nine o'clock. I have enjoyed meeting you, young man. The general shook Manfred's hand. Our countries should be good friends. Manfred a.s.sured him, I will do all in my power to bring that about., Good luck for the Games, Herr de La Rey. in the Mercedes again Heidi remarked, My uncle liked you very much, and so did many of his friends, General Zoller for one. I enjoyed the evening. Do you like music, Manfred? He was a little surprised by the question. I enjoy some music, but I am no expert. 'Wagner? Yes, I like Wagner very much. Uncle Sigmund has given me two tickets to the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra for next Friday. The young conductor Herbert von Karajan is performing a programme of Wagner. I know you will be fighting your first bout that afternoon, but afterwards we could celebrate. She hesitated, and then she went on quickly, Forgive me, you think me forward, but I a.s.sure you No, no. I would be greatly honoured to accompany you whether I win or lose. 'You will win, she said simply. I know you will., She dropped him in front of the team house, and waited until he had gone in before she ordered the driver, Back to the Rupertstra.s.se. When she got back to the colonel's house most of the other guests were leaving. She waited quietly until he came back from seeing the last of them away and, with an inchnation of his silver hair, ordered her to follow him. His treatment of her had altered completely, it was now brusque and superior.

He crossed to the un.o.btrusive oak door at the far end of the room and went in ahead of her. Heidi entered and closed the door behind her softly, then drew herself to attention and stood waiting. Colonel Boldt left her standing while he poured two balloon gla.s.ses of cognac and took one to General Zoller where he sat in the wingbacked chair beside the log fire in the stone fireplace, puffing at one of his herbal cigarettes, with an open file on his knees.

So, FrIulein, Colonel Boldt sank into the leather chair and waved Heidi towards the couch, sit down. You may relax in your "uncle's" house. She smiled politely but sat stiff-backed on the edge of the couch and Colonel Boldt turned back to the general.

May I ask the general's opinion of the subject? and General Zoller looked up from the file.

There seems to be a grey area surrounding the subject's mother. Is it confirmed that his mother was a German, as he claims? I am afraid we do not have confirmation on that. We can establish no proof of his mother's nationality, although I have made exhaustive enquiries amongst our people in South West Africa. The general belief is that she died at childbirth in the African wilderness. However, on his father's side there is definite doc.u.mented proof that his grandmother was German and that his father fought most valiantly for the Kaiser's army, in Africa. Yes, I see that, the General said testily, and looked up at Heidi. What sentiments has he expressed to you, Fraulein? He is very proud of his German blood, and he looks upon himself as the natural ally of the German people. He is a great admirer of the Fuhrer and can quote at length from Mein Kampf. The general coughed and wheezed and lit another cigarette with a taper from the fire before turning all his attention back to the red file with the eagle and swastika emblem on the front cover. The others waited quietly for almost ten minutes before he looked up at Heidi.

What relationship have you established with the subject, Fraulein? On Colonel Boldt's orders, I have made myself agreeable and friendly towards him. I have in small ways conveyed my interest as a woman towards him. I have shown him that I am knowledgeable and interested in the art of boxing, and that I know a great deal about the problems of his fatherland. Frulein Kramer is one of my best operatives, Colonel Boldt explained. She has been given a thorough grounding in the history of South Africa and the sport of boxing by our department. The general nodded. Proceed, Friulein, he ordered, and Heidi went on.

I have conveyed to him my sympathy for his people's political aspirations and made it clear that I am his friend, with the possibility of more than that., There has been no s.e.xual intimacy between your No, my General. I judge that the subject would be offended if I were to proceed too rapidly. As we know from his file, he comes from a strict Calvinist religious background. Besides which, I have not received orders from Colonel Boldt to initiate s.e.xual advances. Good, the general nodded. This is a matter of major importance. The Fuhrer himself is aware of our operation.

He considers, as I do, that the southern tip of Africa has enormous tactical and strategic importance in our plans for global expansion. It guards the sea routes to India and the East, and in the event that the Suez Ca.n.a.l is denied to our shipping, it is the only route available. In addition, it is a treasure house of raw material vital to our military preparations, chrome, diamonds, the platinum group minerals.

With this in mind, and after my meeting with the subject, I am of the firm belief that we must proceed. Therefore, the operation now has full departmental sanction and a "red" ratings Very good, my General., 'The code name for the operation will be "White Sword" Das Weisse Schwart!

Jawohl, my General. Fraulein Kramer, you are now a.s.signed exclusively to this operation. You will, at the first opportunity, initiate s.e.xual intimacy with the subject in such a way as not to alarm nor offend him, but rather to strengthen our hold over his allegiance. 'Very well, my General. In due course it may be necessary for you to enter into a form of marriage with the subject. Is there any reason why you could not do so, if required? Heidi did not hesitate. None, my General. You can rely on my duty and loyalty entirely. I will do whatever is required of me. Very good, Frulein. General Zoller coughed and hunted noisily for breath, and his voice was still rough as he went on, Now, Colonel, it will suit our purpose if the subject is winner of a gold medal at these Games. It will give him a a great deal of prestige in his home country, apart from the ideological aspect of a white Aryan triumphing over a person of an inferior black race. 'I understand, my General. There is not a serious German contender for the light heavyweight t.i.tle, is there? No, my General, the subject is the only serious white contender. We can make certain that all matches which the subject fights are refereed and judged by members of the Party who are under the control of our department.

Naturally, we cannot effect the decision in the case of a knock-out, but- Naturally, Boldt, but you will do all in your power, and Frdulein Kramer will report daily to Colonel Boldt on her progress with the subject. Both the Courtney and Malcomess clans had descended upon the luxurious Bristol Hotel rather than the Olympic village, though David Abrahams had bowbd to the dictates of the athletics coach and moved into the apartment house with his team mates, so that Shasa saw little of him during the days of hard training leading up to the opening of the Games.

Mathilda Janine prevailed on Tara to accompany her to most of the field athletic training, in return for equal timeshares of her company at the polo fields, so the two girls spent most of their time dashing from the vast Olympic complex across Berlin to the equestrian centre at high speed, the only rate of progress with which Tara seemed able to conduct her father's green Bentley.

The brief lay-off from training, combined with the imminence of the Games themselves, seemed to have sharpened David's running rather than harmed it. He returned some excellent times during those five days and courageously resisted Mathilda Janine's suggestion that he should sneak out for just an hour or two in the evenings.

You are in with a chance, Davie, his coach told him, checking the stopwatch after his last run before the official opening ceremony.

Just concentrate it all now and you'll have a bit of tin to take home with you. Both Shasa and Blaine were delighted with the ponies that their German hosts had provided. Like everything else in the equestrian centre, the grooms, stabling and equipment were all without fault, and under Blaine's iron control, the team settled down to concentrated practice and were soon once more a cohesive phalanx of hors.e.m.e.n.

Between their own long sessions on the practice field, they watched and judged the other teams whom they would have to meet. The Americans, expense not considered, had brought their own mounts across the Atlantic. The Argentinians had gone one better and brought their grooms as well, in flat-brimmed gaucho hats and leather breeches decorated with silver studs.

Those are the two to beat, Blaine warned them. But the Germans are surprisingly good, and the Brits, as always, will be slogging away at it. We can flatten any of them, Shasa gave the team the benefit of his vast experience, with a little luck. Tara was the only one who took the boast seriously, as from the stand she watched him tear down the side field, sitting tall in the saddle, a beautiful young centaur, lean and lithe, white teeth flashing against the dark tan of his face.

He's so big-headed and c.o.c.k-sure, she lamented. If only I could just ignore him. If only life wasn't just so flat when he's not around.

By nine o'clock on the morning of 1 August 1936, the vast Olympic stadium, the largest in the world, was packed with over one hundred thousand human beings.

The turf of the central isle had been groomed into an emerald velvet sheet, and ruled with the stark white lanes and circles that marked out the venue for the field events.

The running track around the periphery was of brick-red cinders. High above it rose the Tribune of Honour', the reviewing stand for the traditional march-past of the athletes. At the far end of the stadium was the Olympic altar with its tripod torch still cold.

Outside the entrance to the stadium stretched the Maifeld, its open acres of s.p.a.ce containing the high bell tower with the legend: 'Ich rufe die Jugend der Welt, I summon the youth of the world. And the ma.s.sed echelons of athletes were drawn up to face down the long boulevard of the Kaiserdamm, renamed for the solemn occasion the Via Triumphalis. High above the field floated the giant airship, the Hindenburg, towing behind it the banner of the Olympics, the five great linked circles.

From afar a faint susurration rose on the cool still morning air. Slowly it grew louder, closer. A long procession of open four-door Mercedes tourers was approaching down the Via Triumphalis, chromework gleaming like mirrors, pa.s.sing between the closed ranks of fifty thousand brown-uniformed storm troopers who lined both sides of the way, holding back a dense throng of humanity, ten and twenty deep, who roared with adulation as the leading vehicle pa.s.sed them and threw their right arms high in the n.a.z.i salute.

The cavalcade drew to a halt before the legion of athletes and from the leading Mercedes Adolf Hitler stepped down.

He wore the plain brown shirt, breeches and jackboots of a storm trooper. Rather than rending him inconspicuous, this sombre unadorned dress seemed rather to distinguish him in the ma.s.s of brilliant uniforms, gold lace, bearskins and stars and ribbons that followed him between the ranks of athletes towards the marathon gate of the stadium.

So that is the wild man, Blaine Malcomess thought as. .h.i.tler strolled by, not five paces from where he stood. He was precisely as Blaine had seen him portrayed a thousand times, the dark hair combed forward, the small square mustache. But Blaine was unprepared for the intense Messianic gaze that rested upon him for a fleeting part of a second, then pa.s.sed on. He found that the hair on his forearms had come erect and p.r.i.c.kled electrically, for he had just looked into the eyes of an Old Testament prophet, or a madman.

Following close behind Adolf Hitler were all his favourites: Goebbels wore a light summer suit, but Goering was portly and resplendent in the sky-blue full-dress of a Luftwaffe marshal and he saluted the athletes casually with his gold baton as he went by. At that moment the great bronze bell high above the Maifeld began to toll, summoning the youth of the world to a.s.sembly.

Hitler and his entourage pa.s.sed out of sight, entering the tunnel beneath the stands, and a few minutes later a great fanfare of trumpets, magnified a hundred times by the banks of loudspeakers, crashed over the field and a ma.s.sed choir burst into Deutschland fiber alles. The ranks of athletes began to move off, wheeling into their positions for the entry parade.

As they emerged from the gloom of the tunnel into the sunlit arena, Shasa exchanged a glance with David marching beside him. They grinned at each other in shared excitement as the great waves of sound, amplified music from the bands and the choir singing the Olympic hymn and the cheering of one hundred thousand spectators, poured over them. Then they looked ahead, chins up, arms swinging, and stepped out to the grandeur of Richard Strauss's music.

In the rank ahead of Shasa, Manfred De La Rey stepped out as boldly, but his eyes were focused on the brown-clad figure far ahead in the front rank of the Tribune of Honour and surrounded by princes and kings. As they came level, he wanted to fling up his right arm and shout, Heil Hitler! but he had to restrain himself. After lengthy discussion and argument, the counsel of Blaine Malcomess and the other English speakers in the team had prevailed. Instead of the German salute the team members merely snapped their heads around in the eyes right salute as they came level. A low whistle and stamp of disapproval from the largely German spectators followed them. Manfred's eyes burned with tears of shame at the insult he had been forced to offer the great man on the high dais.

His anger stayed with him during the rest of the amazing festivities that followed: the lighting of the Olympic torch and the official speech of opening by the Fiffirer, the sky filled with the white wings of fifty thousand doves released together, the flags of the nations raised simultaneously around the rim of the stadium, the displays of swaying gymnasts and dancers, the searchlights and the fireworks and the music and the fly-past by squadrons of Marshal Goering's Luftwaffe that filled and darkened the sky with their thunder.

Blaine and Centaine dined alone that evening in her suite at the Bristol and both of them were suffering from an anticlimactic weariness after the day's excitements.

What a show they put on for the world! Centaine remarked. I don't think any of us expected this. We should have, Blaine replied, 'after their experience in arranging the Nuremberg rallies, the n.a.z.is are the grand masters of pageantry. Not even the ancient Romans developed the seductive appeal of public spectacle to this refinement. 'I loved it, Centaine agreed.

it was pagan and idolatrous, and blatant propaganda Herr Hitler selling n.a.z.i Germany and his new race of supermen to the world. But, yes, I have to agree with you, it was unfortunately jolly good fun, with an ominous touch of menace and evil to it that made it even more enjoyable. Blaine, you are a hard-nosed old cynic. My only real virtue, he conceded, and then changed the subject. They have posted the draw for the first-round matches. We are fortunate not to have drawn either the Argentinians or the Yanks. They had drawn the Australians, and their hopes of an easy win were dashed almost immediately for the Aussies galloped in like charging cavalry from the first whistle, driving both Blaine and Shasa back in desperate defence, and they kept up that unrelenting attack throughout the first three hard-ridden chukkas, never allowing Blaine's team to gather themselves.

Shasa kept the curb on his own instincts, which were to ride and shine alone, and placed himself completely under the control of his captain, responding instantly to Blaine's calls to cut left or cover the fall or break back', drawing from Blaine the only thing which he lacked himself, experience. Now in these desperate minutes the bond of understanding and trust between then, which had taken so long to forge, was tested almost to breaking point, but in the end it held and halfway through the fourth chukka, Blaine grunted as he pa.s.sed close to his young number two.

They've shot their bolt, Shasa. Let's see now if they can take what they've been handing out. Shasa took Blaine's next high cross shot at full stretch, standing in his stirrups to pull it down out of the air, and then to drive it far up field, drawing off the Aussie backs before sending it back inside in a lazy dropping parabola to fall under the nose of Blaine's racing pony. That was the turning-point, and in the end they rode in on lathered ponies and jumped down from the saddle to pound each other between the shoulder blades, laughing with a triumph touched by a shade of disbelief at their own achievement.

Triumph turned to gloom when they heard that they would meet the Argentinians in the second round.

David Abrahams ran a disappointing race in his first heat of the 400 metre dash, coming in fourth and missing the cut.

Mathilda Janine refused dinner and went up to bed early that night, but two days later she was bubbling and deliriously excited when David won his heat in the 200 metres and went through to the semi-finals.

Manfred De La Rey's first opponent was the Frenchman, Maurice Artois, unranked in his division.

Fast as a mamba, brave as a ratel, Uncle Tromp whispered to Manfred at the gong.

Heidi Kramer was sitting beside Colonel Boldt in the fourth row, and she shivered with unexpected excitement as she watched Manfred leave his corner and come out into the centre. He moved like a cat.

Up to this time it had taken much effort for her to feign an interest in the sport. She had found the sounds and odours and sights a.s.sociated with it all repellent, the stench of rancid sweat on canvas and leather, the animal grunting and the slogging of padded fists into flesh, the blood and sweat and flying spittle offended her fastidious nature. Now in this company of well-dressed and cultivated spectators, clad herself in fresh silk and lace, perfumed and serene, she found the contrast of violence and savagery before her frightening but at the same time stirring.

Manfred De La Rey, the quiet stern young man, humourless and grave, slightly gauche in unaccustomed clothing and ill at ease in sophisticated company, had been transformed into a magnificent wild beast, and the primeval ferocity he seemed to exude, the blaze of those yellow eyes under the black brows as he slashed the Frenchman's face into a distorted bleeding mask and then drove him down onto his knees in the centre of the sheet of spotless white canvas, excited her perversely so that she found she was clenching her thighs tightly together and her groin was hotly melting and dampening the expensive crepe-de-chine skirt under her.

That excitement persisted as she sat beside Manfred in the stalls of the state opera house that evening while Wagner's heroic Teutonic music filled the auditorium with thrilling sound. She moved slightly in her seat until her bare upper arm touched Manfred's. She felt him start, begin to pull away, then catch himself. The contact between them was gossamer-light but both of them were intensely aware of it.

Once again Colonel Brandt had placed the Mercedes at her disposal for the evening. The driver was waiting for them when they came down the front steps of the opera house.

As they settled into the back seat, she saw Manfred wince slightly.

What is it? she asked quickly.

It is nothing. She touched his shoulder with firm strong fingers. Here, does it hurt? A stiffness in the muscle, it will be all right tomorrow. Hans, take us to my apartment in the Hansa, she ordered the driver, and Manfred glanced at her, perturbed.

Mutti has pa.s.sed down to me one of her special secrets. It is an embrocation made with wild ferns, and truly magical., It is not necessary, he protested.

My apartment is on the way back to the Olympic village.

It will not take long and Hans can drop you back home afterwards. She had been uncertain as to how she would get him alone without alarming him, but now he accepted her suggestion without further comment. He was silent for the rest of the drive and she could sense the tension in him, though she made no attempt to touch him again.

Manfred was thinking of Sarah, trying to form the image of her face in his mind but it was blurred, a sweet and insipid blur. He wanted to order Hans to drive directly back to the village, but he could not find the will to do so. He knew what they were doing was incorrect, to be alone with a young attractive woman, and he tried to convince himself that it was innocent, but then he remembered the touch of her arm against him and he stiffened.

It does hurt? she misinterpreted the movement.

Just a little, he whispered, and his voice caught.

It was always most difficult after he had fought. For many hours after a match he was strung up and nervously sensitive, and it was then that his body was likely to play Satan's tricks upon him. He could feel it happening now, and his mortification and guilt forced hot blood up into his face.

what would this pure clean German virgin think of him if she guessed at that obscene and wicked tumescence? He opened his mouth to tell her would not go with her, but she was leaning forward in the seat.

Thank you, Hans. Drop us here on the corner and you can wait down the block. She was out of the car and crossing the sidewalk, and he had no option but to follow her.

it was half dark in the entrance lobby of the building.

I'm sorry, Manfred, I am on the top floor and there is no elevator. The climb allowed him to regain control of himself, and she let him into a small one-roomed flat.

This is my palace, she smiled apologetically. Flats are so difficult to find in Berlin these days. She gestured to the bed. Sit there, Manfred. She slipped off the jacket she wore over her white blouse, and stood on tiptoe to hang it in the cupboard. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swung forward heavily as she lifted her pale smooth arms.

Manfred looked away. There was a shelf of books on one wall; he saw a set of Goethe's works and remembered how he had been his father's favourite author. Think of any thing, he told himself, anything but those big pointed b.r.e.a.s.t.s under the thin white cloth.

She had gone through to the little bathroom and he heard running water and the clink of gla.s.s. Then she came bac with a small green bottle in her hands and stood in front of him smiling.

You must take off your coat and your shirt, she said, and he could not reply. He had not thought of that.

That is not proper, Heidi. She laughed softly, a throaty little sound, and through the laughter she murmured, Don't be shy, Manfred. just think of me as a nurse. Gently she lifted the coat off his shoulders, helping him out of it. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swung forward again and almost brushed against his face before she stepped back and hung his coat over the back of the single chair and then, a few seconds later, folded his shirt on top of it. She had warmed the bottle in the basin and the lotion was instantly soothing on his skin, her fingers cunning and strong.

,Relax, she whispered. There, I can feel it. It's all hard and knotted. Relax, let the pain just wash away. Gently she drew his head forward. Lean against me, Manfred. Yes, like that., She was standing in front of him and she thrust her hips forward so that his forehead was pressed against her lower torso. Her belly was soft and warm and her voice hypnotic, he felt waves of pleasure spreading out from the contact of her kneading fingers.

You are so hard and strong, Manfred, so white and hard and beautiful, It was moments before he realized what she had said, but her fingers were stroking and caressing, and all rational thought ebbed out of his mind. He was conscious only of the hands and the murmured endearments and praise, then he was aware of something else, a warm musky odour wafted up from her belly against which his face was pressed. Though he did not recognize it as the smell of a healthy young woman physically aroused and ripe for love, yet his own reaction to it was instinctive and no longer to be denied.

Heidi, his voice shook wildly. I love you. Forgive me, G.o.d, but I love you so. Yes, mein Schatz, I know, she whispered. And I love you also. She pushed him back gently upon the bed and standing over him began slowly to unb.u.t.ton the front of the white blouse. As she came over him, her big silky white b.r.e.a.s.t.s, tipped with ruby, were the most beautiful things he had ever seen.