Dominion of the Moon

by Kostas Krommydas

  I looked down at my dripping clothes and tried to shake the mud off. “Just give me a moment,” I replied, and walked around the small clearing in desperation, scanning the foliage.

  A loud howl of frustration escaped my lips, a last, hopeless call beseeching a reply, but it was met by silence. My body sagged, worn out. Sensing the urgency of Elizabeth waiting back at the site, I reluctantly decided to abandon my search. The climb down would take whatever reserves of strength I had left, so I turned to Vasilis and said with a sigh, “Nothing. It must have been some forest critter; it’s gone now. Let’s go!”

  Without waiting for Vasilis to catch up, I hastily started climbing down, hoping to at least solve the second mystery of the day: that of the buried woman.

  Even when we reached the archaeological site, exhausted by the hurried trek back, I could not get her naked form as she stood by the water pool out of my mind. I snapped back to reality only when I saw all those gathered at a corner of the Hieron Temple, where one of the American teams had been excavating. As soon as they noticed me, they parted to make way for me to approach. My heart was about to burst, thumping with worry and the exertion of the fast walk. I took deep breaths, trying to compose myself.

  Only when I caught a glimpse of Elizabeth’s face did I begin to calm down, the excitement lighting up her eyes reassuring me that nothing was wrong. In the trench, Phyllis Miller, Karl’s wife, kneeled down covered in dust. She wore a stripy dress and a large white hat. All around her lay marble fragments tied with thick ropes, evidently belonging to the same find.

  Like a mother nursing a baby, she cradled a part of the broken statue in her arms. Its edge touched the ground, and I could just make out the statue’s tunic and a part of her hand. With her free hand, Phyllis was carefully wiping away the earth stuck on the statue’s surface. Sensing my presence, she stopped and looked up at me.

  Everyone was silent, as the sun set to the west and the southerly wind gently stirred up dust over the mound of soil recently dug out. Only our ragged breathing as we tried to catch our breath broke the silence of anticipation.

  Elizabeth came and stood beside me. Her hand was roughly bandaged where she had injured it the previous night, but she did not seem concerned. I felt everyone’s eyes on me. They were all waiting to see my reaction. I still felt disoriented, unable to think clearly. With great difficulty, I asked what was going on.

  She did not wait for me to finish my sentence. She knew my love for excavations and my impatience for a significant discovery. Taking my hand, Elizabeth led me to the edge of the trench and pointed to the opening.

  I jumped in, landing near Phyllis. She stretched out her hand and pulled me toward her, the soil on her hands rubbing into my skin. As soon as I could get a closer look, the realization of whom the headless statue was began to sink in. My eyes filled with tears I fiercely fought to hold back. The fragments lying before me revealed that the third statue of the goddess that haunted my dreams had just been found.

  The setting sun was but a distant orange slice on the horizon as we all cheerfully went about covering the statue to shelter it as best we could. I was bursting with joy. There had been no time to move the statue to a safer place, and I was ready to spend the night beside it, guarding it on its first night out in the open air after so many years.

  We would resume the search for the missing head of this Nike in the morning. The heads of the previous two statues had disappeared many years ago, if they had ever been found. Three similar statues without a face; it seemed like the goddess had been cursed. I secretly hoped that this statue would finally yield the missing puzzle piece …

  Vasilis had gone to my house to fetch me a change of clothes. This new discovery superseded everything else that had taken place that day, until I heard Vasilis say he had to stop at the boat that had arrived the previous night to ship something to the mainland. Fast as lightning, a thought crossed my mind. If the woman at the water pool had arrived with the other full-moon visitors, she would surely be returning with them. Provided she was real, and not a vision I had conjured up.

  I vacillated between my reluctance to leave the statue and my desire to go with Vasilis and solve that other riddle. I made up my mind quickly; such was my desire to meet her. I asked Vasilis to wait up for me and, as soon as I found someone to stand guard in my absence, I hopped inside the old Jeep and we drove to Kamariotissa, the island’s small port.

  It was getting darker by the minute as we watched the boat arrive at the dock, where a small crowd was waiting to board. Sitting on pieces of luggage, they seemed to have arrived much earlier, trying to beat nightfall. I was still surprised they had not arranged to depart earlier. Maybe they wanted to enjoy the moonlight on the boat. The sea was calm, still as a mirror, ideally suited for a night aboard. Most of them held small lanterns, as if they were outside a church waiting for Midnight Mass. Other than the waiting passengers, the port was nearly empty. A small group of children sat on a derelict old wall at the edge of the port, curiously watching the unusual gathering.

  We parked nearby and I left Vasilis to unload the car, making my way toward the waiting group. I could hear them speak French as I came nearer, and I wondered if any Greeks were among them. Her back turned to the sea, a woman was explaining something, pointing to the sky, then the ground by her feet. I could not understand a word of what she was saying, but felt drawn by how expressively she spoke. In the dim light of the lanterns and the shadows they cast, I could not make out anyone’s features. I circled them discreetly and then stopped to face them, a few feet away from the woman who addressing them. Some curiously examined me with a frown, as I stood peering at them in the hope of spotting her. Their guide seemed annoyed at my presence and abruptly turned toward me. “Can I help you?”

  I shook my head and apologized, feeling bad at having invaded their space so indiscreetly. I pulled further away, without having managed to spot her. Now they were nothing but grey shadows in the dark. Suddenly, one of the shadows stirred and turned toward me, pushing her way through the crowd. She walked slowly, the glimmer of her lantern lighting the ground by her feet and keeping the rest of her shrouded in darkness. When she reached me, she stopped and slowly raised it between us, like a barrier we would soon be crossing.

  Transfixed, we stood staring at each other, ignoring the calls of her companions who had started to board the boat. Rooted to the spot, we tried to grasp how once again fate had brought us together in the strangest way. The woman I had seen in the forest that morning was no longer a fleeting vision, but a reality that stood before me. A tear glimmered at the corner of her eye, ready to course down her cheek. I could sense she was helplessly trying to find the right words, as was I. All I could do was take a step toward her.

  “I-it can’t be you,” she stammered, breaking the silence. She raised her hand and hesitatingly touched my cheek, as if to ensure I was real. I opened my mouth to speak, but words were beyond me. I had so much to say, but my thoughts were spinning, giving me no chance to voice them. She looked the same as that cursed day, though more tranquil, without the vacant expression she had worn as she waited for death at my hands.

  “I’m Andreas,” I said awkwardly, trying to set our strange encounter in motion.

  “I’m Zoe,” she immediately replied.

  A man walked up behind her and gave us a curious look. He said something in French, and she gave him a brief reply. I felt the ground sink beneath my feet when she turned back toward me and pointed to the others. “I must go … I came with them. Thank you for saving my life. It feels strange to see you again. I always wanted to find you and thank you, and now here we are. I don’t know what to say …This is all so strange. I don’t know what to do …”

  I did not want to let her go. If I lost her now, I knew it would be forever. She spoke to me so openly that I concluded she did not realize I was the man who had watched her swim naked in the forest. I decided not to mention that part.

  Without asking anything furthe
r, not even how I came to be here, she moved the lantern aside and brushed her lips against my cheek. My body quavered at her touch. She slowly pulled back, her gaze still locked on mine. She made an imperceptible move to turn to the boat, and I realized time was up.

  “Don’t go …” The words burst out of my mouth, imbued with all my sincerity. She seemed taken aback, and paused in her tracks. The spark of joy in her eyes gave me the strength to persevere. “Please stay …It can’t be random, our paths crossing for a third time.” I bit my lip as soon as I realized I had just revealed our previous encounter. Her reaction confirmed that she had no idea what I was talking about.

  She looked at me questioningly, trying to understand what I had just said. Feeling the sands of time flowing ever faster, I spoke hurriedly. “I saw you swimming at Gria Vathra …” Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she could not believe what she was hearing. “It can’t just be a coincidence,” I insisted.

  Without a nod or a word, she looked at me for a moment, then turned and walked straight to the boat. I realized confessing my little sin had been a mistake. The men at the port were untying the ropes as I watched her walk swiftly up the gangplank. The acrid smoke of the oil lamps filled my nostrils. I saw Vasilis waving at me that it was time to go; he had been waiting at the other side of the port all this time, unaware of what was happening.

  On the horizon, behind the craggy mountain peaks, silver light shimmered majestically, announcing the arrival of a bright, round moon. I felt caught up in a rapidly flowing tide of events, unable to react, unable to pull my eyes or thoughts away from her.

  Unable to bear the tension any longer, I slowly dragged my feet down the dock. The visitors’ lanterns now dotted the deck, making the boat look like a dark rock festooned with tiny stars. At the captain’s urging, they began to put them out, so he could see his way out of the port. As the flames vanished one by one, so did my hopes that she might return. The boat was now nothing but a dark mass bobbing in the water.

  This cannot be the end to such a fated meeting, I desperately thought.

  Just before the boat pushed away from the dock, I saw her climb the prow and take a reckless leap onto the dock, holding a small cloth bundle that landed clumsily beside her. Behind her, some of her companions leaned over, calling out her name, but it was too late.

  The boat was sailing away, and she stood there, silhouetted against the rising moonlight. As still as a statue, she waited for me. Trying to control my excitement and ensure that her presence was not a trick of my fevered mind, I walked toward her.

  In a cave filled with candles and small lanterns placed on the indentations of the scraggy rocks, a group dressed in white held hands in a circle. Their faces were hidden behind black, expressionless, genderless masks. Their eyes were turned to the mouth of the cave, as if expecting someone to arrive at any moment.

  Like an altar, a block of white, shiny marble stood at the center of the cave that nature had hollowed out of the mountain. Smoke rose from a bowl carved into the marble block’s surface. It seeped through the cave like fog, filling it with an intense scent.

  A woman appeared at the mouth of the cave. She wore a deep crimson dress that swept the stones as she walked, holding a clay vessel in her hands, like a compass leading her steps to those waiting. Another figure, dressed in white like the others but wearing a tight black belt, walked closely behind her.

  The woman entered the circle and stopped at the altar. Her companion stood at a gap in the circle, and the bodies closed once again, sealing the woman in the center.

  The deep beat of a drum sounded outside the cave, giving the proceedings a note of solemnity. She slowly raised the clay vessel above her head and, following the rhythm of the drum, started chanting an ancient hymn. The red cloth, tied roughly around her body, slipped as she swayed to the beat of the drum until it fell to the ground, spreading like a pool of blood around her and exposing her naked body. Only her face remained hidden behind the securely fastened mask.

  Still undulating, she gently tilted the vessel, and shiny drops of blood dripped onto the white marble. When its contents had fully covered the surface of the altar, it looked like an animal had just been sacrificed in this otherworldly ritual. When the last drop of blood had been emptied, she flung the clay vessel against the wall of the cave, where it shattered.

  It was the signal for the drum to pick up its pace, beating faster and faster as she turned to face the mouth of the cave and lay on the red cloth on the ground. Going against the rhythm of the drum, she slowly spread her bare legs. Her companion stepped forward from the circle and stood before her. He untied his belt and flung off his white cloak with a sudden movement, revealing his chiseled, muscular body. He snapped the thin thread that hung around his neck, a ring dangling from it, and knelt beside her, placing the ring on her finger.

  The drum reached a frenzied beat and the woman slowly raised her pelvis, inviting the man inside her. He shifted before her, getting nearer and nearer. The white clad figures of the circle stepped closer, as if trying to shield what would follow from any wandering eyes. The name of a woman, an indistinct murmur, rose to their lips. Axieros …

  The man crouched on top of the woman, placing his palms on either side of her head. She tilted her body like a bow, welcoming him inside her. At the moment of their union, the drum beat wildly, like a rumble threatening to bring the cave crashing down. The figures in white turned and ceremoniously began to blow out the candles, until the cave sank into complete darkness.

  The drum stopped abruptly when the last flickering flame died out. Only the wild moans of the couple caught in the primitive throes of the union ritual echoed around the cave.

  We had just arrived at the archaeological site. I had spent most of the drive trying to explain to Vasilis who Zoe was and why she was joining us. He seemed unable to grasp what I was saying, so I asked him, rather abruptly, to go home and rest. He gave me a hurt look, but did not protest, and left, still casting impressed looks in her direction and trying to fathom what was happening in his own way.

  I had been struck by Zoe’s strange silence during this time. Only when she saw the flames and torches lighting up the Varvis tower did she ask what was happening, but I avoided giving an answer. The fact was that I did not fully understand what was happening there that evening myself. Although Varvis had extended an invitation, I did not think he would have been happy to see me on his doorstep.

  Nightfall had shrouded everything in darkness, and only the moon high in the sky shone its silver light over the site. Holding the bundle with her belongings, Zoe looked around the temple. She wore a long, dark dress and a thin jacket of a similar color. Her long hair cascaded down her back, reaching her waist. Elizabeth and the others had placed a couple of oil lamps around the trench where the headless statue lay, and were seated around it, their satisfaction evidenced by the peals of laughter that echoed in the night.

  During our short walk from the port to the car, I’d had just enough time to tell Zoe who I was and what I was doing on the island, and fill her in on this latest discovery. She had been impressed, and asked that we go there first, before trying to find a place for her to spend the night. My eyes flitted from Zoe toward the resting place of the statue of the winged goddess, unable to grasp fully that in the space of a few hours my two greatest wishes had come true.

  I shyly touched her shoulder, urging her to join the others. She looked at me and took my hand, letting me lead her there. As soon as they became aware of our presence, they all stood up to greet us, curiously looking at Zoe. I realized we had not thought of an explanation to give the others for her presence on the island, by my side, but she spoke without hesitation. “I’m Zoe. I’m an old friend of Andreas, and we ran into each other at the port. I missed my boat, so I have to spend the night here.”

  I faltered upon hearing her fiction, and all I could do was nod with an awkward smile. Elizabeth walked up to us carrying a blanket, which she spread out on the ground beside
her, beckoning us to sit down. She gave me a look filled with surprise at Zoe’s presence. The smashed statue lay at the center of our impromptu circle. The trench and the light of the flickering stubby candles burning beside the marble fragments created a scene reminiscent of a funeral wake; it was as if we had gathered to bury the statue, sink it into eternal darkness rather than bring it to light.

  I thought of the long hours of work that awaited us the following day, when we would join forces with the American couple and their team, focusing on this particular spot. Phyllis brought over two cups of wine for us. I felt compelled, as head of the Greek team, to say a few words. I raised my cup, toasting Zoe first, and then the others.

  “Today is a great day for us. The discovery of the Winged Victory by our colleagues raises our hopes for further significant discoveries. May this goddess someday be rejoined by her two sisters who were forced abroad. May this meeting take place at the museum being constructed by the American School of Classical Studies.”

  We all raised our cups and took a generous sip of warm wine. My chest was already aflame, warmed by the presence of the woman sitting silently beside me. The image of her naked beauty emerging from the water had been burned onto my retinas, try as I might to chase it away.

  Elizabeth’s soft voice caught my attention. “We still do not know how the statue ended up here. By this, I mean whether it has been transported to this spot. At this early stage, we surmise that it is a statue from the Hieron Temple pediment and fell following an earthquake, which is why it is in pieces. Whatever the case may be, this is one of the most significant finds to date, and we owe a debt of gratitude to Phyllis and Karl, whose perseverance and love have bestowed this great gift upon us …”

  Trying to keep the spark of my connection to Zoe alight, I shifted closer to her and whispered, “Would you like something to eat?” She stifled a laugh and raised her eyebrows, showing that she was so absorbed in everything she was seeing and hearing that the thought of food had not even crossed her mind.