The policeman stepped closer to Varvis and Karl, and cleared his throat. “This man here,” he said, pointing to the villager, “saw Stais hiding something in the house, and alerted us.”
“How could he? How did he get inside the house?” Phyllis asked with genuine puzzlement.
“He wasn’t hiding it inside the house, but outside.”
A stunned silence fell over the group. Seizing his chance, the policeman went on. “Panagiotis here will point us to the spot, outside the house. We will not search the inside of the house. With your permission, of course. It won’t take more than a couple of minutes.”
The couple exchanged a look, trying to decide what to do. “Even if you find something,” Karl said, “it does not prove what you say; especially anything you find outside the house. However, as the man is here, let us see where all this leads. Go ahead.” He pointed to the garden.
Hesitatingly, the villager moved toward the stairs. Once on the balcony, he glanced at the policeman, then pulled a chair below the spot where the artifacts had been hidden. The chair swayed and buckled under the villager’s weight; one of the officers rushed up to hold it steady.
Panagiotis placed his hands on the ledge and started to feel his way along the length. He was too short, and he ended up suspended in midair, one foot gingerly perched on the chair, the other kicking wildly as he desperately searched the gap between the roof and the wall. Eyes bulging, he turned to the others, saying there was nothing there.
Evidently annoyed, the policeman asked him to step aside, and climbed on the chair himself. Five minutes of desperate searching later, he climbed down, failing to mask his agitation. Raising his voice, he scolded the villager, accusing him of playing tricks. When he returned to the others, he gave a helpless, theatrical shrug, as if taking a bow at the end of his act.
Varvis pulled Alexandros closer, trying to understand how their careful set up had become a spectacular fiasco. The American couple stared at them, trying to understand what was happening. Trying to save face, Varvis said, “Maybe the man did not have a clear view, and the stolen artifacts are hidden elsewhere in the house. As you said, we will wait for Elizabeth—or Andreas, if he returns first. I understand he is also a resident of this house now.”
“Yes, his own house burned down, causing the death of his mother,” Phyllis pointedly said. “This is all well and good, but I am now asking you to leave. We will be informing our own authorities, of course.”
Varvis, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity, turned to the policemen. “I guess there must have been some misunderstanding. I suggest that we forget the matter and apologize to our esteemed visitors for all the inconvenience caused. I would also like to take this opportunity to inform you that, as soon as Elizabeth returns, we will go ahead with the plan to construct a large wing of the museum, a donation from our family. It will house everything we have been safekeeping during the war.”
“That is a different matter and not something to be discussed at present,” Phyllis coldly replied, and turned away, followed by her husband.
The remaining men turned to go with their tails between their legs. Only Varvis and his son remained in the garden. Alexandros turned to his father and asked in a low voice, “Have they beaten us, father?”
Varvis smiled and cast a dark look toward the house. “For the time being, my son. We’ve lost a battle, not the war …”
He put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and led him toward the garden gate, the followed the others down the path that led away from the house.
Vasilis crept to a distant corner of the Sanctuary, not far from the trench where the statue had been unearthed. He dug a small hole, looking around all the while to make sure no one was watching. When he was satisfied with its depth, he flung the hoe aside and placed a flat piece of marble at the bottom of the shallow well.
He put his hands in his pockets and scooped out a few gold coins, some rings, and the bronze eyelashes. He carefully placed them on the stone, then hurriedly swept the freshly dug soil over them. Once the hole was filled up, he positioned another stone on top, marking the spot. He stood up, picked up the hoe, and moved a couple of feet away, hacking at the weeds clustered around the base of the fallen column.
We both stood still before the tranquil splendor of the clear blue waters stretching far into the distance to greet the sky. We had just stepped out of the thick foliage of the path, and suddenly found ourselves on a sharp ledge overhanging a rocky outcrop that dropped all the way down to the sandy beach.
We had been walking for hours, and I wondered how tired Zoe must be. My own two feet felt leaden as I paused in the brilliant sunshine, and sweat trickled down my forehead.
Zoe had tied her overcoat around her waist long ago, and her long, white dress clung to her back, drenched. The hemline of her dress was brown with mud, but she didn’t seem to care.
I was about to suggest we sit on the ledge and rest before making the steep descent but, drawn by the sparkling sand and water, she pulled me by the hand, indicating that our next stop would be on the salty shoreline.
I watched her skip over the sharp rocks, and it suddenly became clear how she had managed to escape that day, when she had thrown herself down a very similar cliff after the pretend execution. As if she were weightless, she gingerly stepped from pointy rock to pointy rock like an experienced mountaineer, leaving me far behind. I struggled to catch up to her, and in the blink of an eye, she would vanish once again.
The only way to reach the water was through a small passage between the rocks. Honed by the salty spray and the sun, nature enchanted us at every turn. Many years had passed since my last visit to this beach, and I had almost forgotten the way of the land. The sun, blazing in the azure sky, made our descent even harder.
Whenever she needed to climb up, Zoe would raise her dress, revealing her naked legs as if she were all alone in the world. I almost tumbled off a rock, mesmerized by the sight of her alabaster flesh. She asked if I was okay. I hastily nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I kept my eyes on the path the rest of the way, until I felt the soft sand give way beneath my feet. We were finally there.
The white sand and pebble beach stretched before us, broken up only by two large tamarisk trees. The bubbling sound of running water joined the gentle gurgle of the waves, as a small creek became a miniature waterfall that tumbled over the rocks onto the shore. Large rocks encircled the beach, creating a natural fortress that made it impossible to access the secluded cove from any other direction.
Zoe stood at the mouth of a cave formed by the rocks. Other than the sound of our gasping breaths, a peaceful silence reigned. The water, still as a painting, stretched as far as the eye could see.
I caught Zoe scanning the horizon. “The island of Imbros,” I said, pointing to the hazy blue mass of land in the distance.
“Have you ever been?”
“No, but I would love to. Many artifacts are waiting to be discovered there, too.” I smiled. “My grandmother came from Imbros, a daughter of one of the oldest families on the island. It was an arranged marriage. They met for the first time on the day they got engaged.”
“And the second time they met was their wedding day,” Zoe added with a grin.
“Precisely! That’s what it was like back then.” I turned back to face the sea. “Imbros and Samothrace, two sisters separated by the sea, so near and yet so far. That’s what they used to say in the old days.”
“People are separated by borders, or by bits of paper, not by the sea,” Zoe replied, crouching to unbuckle her shoes.
I flung the long-forgotten bundle I had been carrying to the ground and removed my drenched shirt. Turning my back to Zoe, I removed my vest, then draped both over a bush to dry. I felt the heat of the sun warm my shoulders and back, slowly evaporating the sweat that clung to my skin after our long trek.
I turned back to Zoe, and my heart stopped. Naked, like that morning by the pool, she stood by the waterline, ready to surr
ender to the sea’s cool embrace. Her clothes lay in a bundle behind her, carelessly flung on the sand. I tried to look away, but it was impossible. She was glowing in the sunlight, her white skin reflecting the warm rays. Without any false modesty, she pulled her hair over one shoulder and stretched out her hand. “Are you coming in?”
Feeling my cheeks burn, I looked down and replied in a shaky voice, “You go in. I’ll join you. I … I’ll spread the clothes out to dry first.”
Zoe smiled, and started to wade through the crystal waters, which rose to hide her naked form with agonizing slowness. A scar on her shoulder looked like someone had painted a thin, dark line that faded as it reached the small of her back. She kept walking until she was neck-deep, and then let herself sink down. I don’t know how long she took before resurfacing, but it felt like an eon to me. She swam with strong, confident strokes.
I picked up her clothes and spread them out next to mine. When I looked up, she was already some distance away. That would be the right moment for me to go in.
I removed the rest of my clothes and hurriedly dived in. The water was cold, a welcome release. As soon as she saw me in the water, she started swimming back toward the shore. I stood up, the water coming up to my shoulders, and wiped the salty water drops from my face.
“I have never seen such clear waters before. It’s beautiful,” she said, finding her footing beside me. A flock of seagulls landed on the rocks behind us, their loud screeching disturbing the peace.
“This is the kind of place where I’d like to live,” she said, looking up at the sky.
“Why won’t you stay, then?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
She pushed away the wet strands of hair that clung to her forehead, and then turned to look at me. “I would have loved to, Andreas, believe me.”
I looked away again. The clarity of the water meant that I could see her naked form when she stood so close. Oblivious to the thoughts tormenting me, she said, “Why do you think Varvis doesn’t want you to excavate their land?”.
I welcomed the change of subject, and replied at once. “There could be many reasons. They are one of the oldest families on the island, landowners, who own vast estates and great wealth. Their tower seems to be filled with archaeological artifacts. I feel something important is buried on their land bordering the Hieron. Somehow, they know that. They also know that if it is discovered, they will lose their land.”
“What about the ceremony you mentioned on the way here?” she asked, intrigued.
“Elizabeth never shared the details of what happened to her at the tower that night. We had all had a little too much to drink. She seemed embarrassed, and I didn’t press her. I believe they think they are the heirs, the guardians, of the ancient mystery cult of the Cabeiri. There seemed to be some … protocol they were following the night we were there. Then there are the mysterious bonfires, the inscriptions inside the tower … It all points to something like that.”
She let out a small, startled cry, as if suddenly remembering something. “One of the Frenchmen in the group said that the island would once again become what it had been in ancient times.”
“Well. Many things are said about what used to happen here, but we reconstruct history based on evidence, not embellished fantasies. It was indeed one of the most sacred sites in antiquity. Some say that Philip II of Macedon and Olympias were initiated to the mysteries here, and that Alexander the Great was conceived during their sacred union. But, as I said before, this is still unfounded lore.”
“It’s all fascinating.” She gave a little shiver. “I’m getting cold. Shall we get out?”
Zoe was standing right in front of me, and I made sure to keep my gaze averted as she stepped out of the sea. I turned to follow, and saw that she was standing under the small waterfall, rinsing the salt water off. I rushed to where I had left my clothes and tried to dry myself with my overcoat. Hastily, I pulled on my trousers. Wet patches appeared on the fabric immediately, as I had neglected to dry myself properly in my haste.
Zoe stepped back and twisted her hair in a knot to squeeze out the water. My torment returned when she asked me to hand her the bundle to get some dry clothes. I handed it over, keeping my gaze firmly fixed to the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her getting dressed, leisurely, as if she were all alone on the beach. She pulled a crumpled black dress over her head, and tried to untangle her hair, running her fingers through the long tresses.
She picked up the bundle and walked to the largest of the tamarisk trees. Dropping down, she sat cross-legged in its shade, resting her back against the twisted trunk. I remembered we had brought some food, and crouched down beside her, untying the cloth knot. The scent of corn bread filled the air, and I had a vision of my mother removing a freshly baked loaf from the oven and handing me a wedge of the warm bread. I tried to hide the tear that rolled down my cheek and stifle the guilt that surged inside me.
I cut a large piece for her. She tore off half, and as if sensing my turmoil, held onto my hand, looking me in the eyes. She spoke softly. “I don’t care about myself, but I don’t want to cause you problems at work. You love your work. I was wondering whether it would be best for both of us to go to the police station before I leave, see what their accusations really are. I don’t think they have any evidence against us. Based on everything you’ve said, I think they are trying to frighten you.”
I didn’t want anything unpleasant to come between us that day, so I instantly changed the subject. “Let’s not talk about this now. I wish we had more food. If you are hungry, have mine. I’m full after all those wild strawberries.”
“I’m fine, too,” she replied, waving the piece of bread she was still holding.
We turned to watch the sea, munching on the delicious corn bread. When she swallowed her last bite, she rose and came near me. To my great surprise, she buried herself in my arms and gently pushed me down on the sand. She rested her head on my chest, over my heart, her wet hair soaking my shirt. Our chests rose in tandem as our breaths synchronized, and we both looked up at the sky, enjoying the blessed calm that fell over the beach.
She stretched her hands, trying to reach the clouds that were beginning to gather in the north, a reminder that autumn was coming. I felt her breath deepen, and her hands dropped by her side as she drifted off to sleep. I smiled contentedly and closed my eyes, hoping to meet her again, as I desired, at least in my dreams …
A sudden clap of thunder woke me with a start. Zoe was nowhere to be seen. Dark clouds covered half the sky, racing like warhorses to conquer the remaining patches of blue. A bolt of lightning forked through the heavens down to the surface of the water.
I jumped up and looked around for her. I saw her standing on the rock, fearless, as if preparing to confront the coming storm. Once again I was reminded of the statue of the Winged Victory, as I had imagined it standing on the ship’s prow, face turned to the open sea.
I wondered how she had managed to clamber up there. I smelled the rain before I felt the first heavy drops. Another bright fork split the sky in half, and the earth shuddered with the menacing rumble of thunder that closely followed. Zoe, defiant, stood against the wind that tore through her clothes and hair. I called out her name, worried, and she jumped down from the rock, landing as light as a feather.
She beckoned me to her and, hastily scooping up our belongings, I obeyed. Everything would be soaked in minutes. By the time I reached her, the light had turned a hazy grey, and the leaden clouds had blocked out the sun. She grabbed me by the hand and stooped low to enter the cave. It was a small space, but enough to shelter us from nature’s wrath. I pulled her close.
“I couldn’t see you. I was worried,” I whispered.
“Standing on that rock, I felt as if I had become one with the sea and the sky,” she replied, looking into my eyes.
Lightning lit up the small cavity, blinding me. Before my eyes could readjust, I felt Zoe’s body nestle against me. Our lips met, blindl
y, thirstily. I dropped the bundle of clothes to the floor. She wrapped her arms around me, tugging at my clothes wildly. Two shirt buttons bounced off the rocks. Hastily, clumsily, I pulled her dress down until it lay crumpled at her feet. We were both naked, gasping with unbridled desire.
She stepped back, startling me. Like a magnet, my body tried to meet hers once again, but she gently put her hands on my chest, keeping me at arm’s length. Her gaze slowly took on a softer expression as she stroked my chest, exploring the rest of my body with delicious torment. My every pore ached with the desire to make her mine.
Unable to stand it any longer, I pulled her roughly toward me. The moment our naked bodies touched, I felt an overwhelming feeling of warmth, a shivering completeness wash over me. Slowly, she leaned back until she came to rest on our discarded clothes. I followed her lead and knelt before her, then lay down between her legs, waiting for her to guide me. The wind and the rain hammered the rocks with a nightmarish whistle as my body moved toward Zoe, who seemed to be burning with anticipation.
I was a novice; this was the first time I had ever been so intimate with a woman. None of the descriptions I had heard could compare with what I was experiencing inside this small cave. She stretched out her arms and gripped my back, pulling me closer to her. Flashes of lightning lit our shaking bodies as they came nearer and nearer. Slowly, I felt the warmth of her flesh inundate me, piercing my body. She dug her nails into my arms, pulling me further and further inside her until our bodies became one.
The more the weather raged outside and lightning split the sea and sky in two, the more we became a single being. Unable to control the waves of ecstasy coursing through me, I abandoned myself to the pleasures of her body. I did not stop even when she pushed herself up and sat astride me, hungrily seeking more pleasure. Her moans, merging with the thunderclaps and the roar of the wind, excited my desire, urged me to pull her down, again and again, feverishly craving to feel every inch of her body.
Dominion of the Moon Page 12