"No, you’re too cute to be a Stalinist," Stavros teased Zoe and tugged strands of her long hair. "Apostolos asked about you."
Zoe rolled her eyes. "Again? All that shooting must really affect his ears. I told you, he’s far too old for me."
Stavros chuckled. "He’s only eight years older than you."
"That’s old," Zoe replied and took a sip of the drink only to find she did indeed still hate the taste, but swallowed anyway.
"He really is a nice boy."
"I don’t want to get married. We have a job to do, and the last thing I want to do is get married!"
"I want you to get married and stop being involved in the Resistance. I don’t want you to get killed," Stav replied solemnly. "Apostolos has a huge farm near Trikala."
"Is that supposed to impress me?" Zoe asked.
"He really is sweet on you. It’s not the farm--"
"If someone wants to marry me for the farm, well, they are going to be disappointed," Zoe replied. A large dowry was a status symbol in the village and many girls tried to accumulate their "treasures" to impress their prospective husbands. Zoe inherited (by virtue of being the only remaining family member alive) the Lambros farm, her brother Theodore’s house, where she lived with Stavros, and a small cabin which belonged to her younger brother, Thieri. It was a large dowry and one that was quite impressive. Zoe was never fond of the idea that a woman should have a large dowry; it made her feel as though she was property herself.
"Apostolos is already impressed." Stavros grinned and winked at Zoe. "He knows you have a farm and well--"
"Mary, mother of Jesus!" Zoe exclaimed and shook her head. "I’m not interested in him. How many times are we going to have this marriage talk? I’m sick of it."
"I promised your mama that I would look after you. Anyway I told your mama that you would get married before I did," Stavros said quietly. "How about Yiannis?" He asked.
Zoe rolled her eyes. "He’s shorter than me!"
"You are a difficult woman to please."
Zoe smiled. "Thank you."
"That wasn’t a compliment."
Zoe continued to smile. "When I’m ready to get married, I’ll know."
"Will I be an old man by then?" Stavros teased.
"Probably." Zoe chuckled. The two cousins looked at each other and started to laugh. Stavros finally went to his satchel and pulled out some plans as Zoe watched him in the dim light.
"It’s too bad you have to bomb Kiria Vasos’ house."
"Well, she will forgive us. It’s not her house anymore. It’s a barracks. We will get to do some cockroach exterminating."
"I want to come with you."
"No."
"Why not? I came with you on the last one."
"You came with me because you are too stubborn for your own good and you hounded me." Stavros took the sting out of his words by ruffling Zoe’s hair and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I don’t want to lose you, Zo."
"Didn’t I do a good job?"
"You did an exceptional job but I need to keep a promise. I made a promise to keep you safe and I can’t do that if you go on bombing runs with me."
"Everyone must pitch in."
"Yes, everyone must, but we all have our roles. Your job is to keep an eye on Muller and your meticulous recording of the guard changes will come in handy."
Zoe sighed deeply. "That’s a useless exercise."
"You really think so?" Stavros asked and brought his chair closer. "When the time is right, that house is going to get blown up and when it does, everyone inside goes up with it. Your spying will be one of the reasons it will be the end of Muller. Like we did with the other pig, his turn will come."
"And the demon’s spawn?"
Stavros looked up at the ceiling, brought his hands together, and entreated the higher being. "Oh God, please, do something about my cousin!"
Zoe grinned and gently slapped Stavros across the back of his head. "Stop that, you silly boy. He’s not going to listen to you."
Stavros brought Zoe in for a hug and kissed the top of her head. "I want to keep you safe. Let me do that. What’s going to happen tonight will more than likely mean we fight these bastards close up. This is a man’s job. It’s no place for a woman."
"I can do that."
Stavros stopped what he was doing and looked at Zoe. "Zoe, sometimes just listen to me. I’m older than you and I’m a man."
"Well, of course, you’re a man so I must listen to you," Zoe responded sarcastically. "I never heard my papa talk to my mother that way."
"Your mama, bless her soul, didn’t want to go out and shoot German soldiers."
"You are not my head."
Stavros smiled and lowered his head to study the plans before him. "I pity the poor man who will have to control you when you finally decide on the poor fellow," he said teasingly.
"I pity the poor girl who has to put up with you," Zoe responded lightly, knowing the conversation had become too serious. "I still want to come with you."
"Clean your ears out. I think we have some olive oil in the cupboard. I said no."
"What are you not telling me?"
Stavros took out his home made rolled cigarettes and lit one. He offered one to Zoe, who shook her head. He took a drag of the cigarette before he replied. "I think I may know who the collaborator is."
"Who is it?"
"I can’t tell you right now, but I will know more tomorrow. Apostolos is meeting with Manolas and Vangellis."
"Someone from Larissa?"
"Yes."
"What happens to them?"
"They are tried, and if they are found guilty, they are executed." Stavros watched Zoe’s face carefully. "I don’t want you in the middle of anything. I want you to stay here. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes." Zoe sat down heavily in the chair and folded her arms across her chest.
"And I don’t want you to kill Muller’s daughter--"
"Are we back to that again?" Zoe scowled. "It’s not the same thing."
"Yes, we are back to that. This is different, these are soldiers."
"So is she. She was there when the lunatic Muller was killing us. She laughed when my mama was dying."
"I didn’t see that. No one remembers seeing that." Stavros took Zoe’s hands and held them. "You were distraught."
"I know what I saw. I know what I heard and that bitch was laughing."
"This is eating you up. You’re going to get killed." Stavros tried once again to convince Zoe to alter her plans.
"What’s eating me up is that she’s living the high life while my mama is dead, while my brothers are dead, while my papa is dead and while Greece is dying. That’s what is eating me up." Zoe clenched her fist and banged it on the table. "I’m going to kill that bitch. I know she reports what everyone does to the butcher."
Stavros put down the plans and looked incredulously at Zoe. "She reports back to her father?"
"Yes," Zoe replied and shrugged. "You never know," she said at the look Stavros was giving her.
"What does she tell him? How many candles were lit for the fallen?"
"I don’t know but she goes there so much, I bet she counts," Zoe replied.
Stavros shook his head and went back to the plans. "I’m worried about you."
"I don’t care if I die. I just want her dead." Zoe pushed back her chair. "I don’t care what happens to me."
"Do you care what will happen to those left behind?"
"We all have to go sometime," Zoe muttered and turned her back on Stavros to stare outside. He joined her at the window. He put his arms around her and held her close.
"I don’t want to go any time soon and I don’t want you to go," Stavros said quietly. "She’s not worth your life."
"I made a promise," Zoe whispered.
"I made a promise as well," Stavros replied. "I promised your mama that I would keep you safe."
"Why did you do that?"
"Because I love you and you’re my cousin.
You are all the family I have left." Stavros kissed Zoe on the cheek. "Please, promise me that you won’t do anything."
Zoe sighed and shook her head. "You made a promise?"
"Absolutely." Stavros crossed himself and kissed the cross that hung around his neck.
"I’ll think about it," Zoe muttered.
"Why don’t you go to bed? I’ve got some work to do."
"You don’t want company?" Zoe asked and looked up into Stavros’ dark brooding eyes.
"No, that’s alright. Go to sleep."
"Be careful, Stav." Zoe went up on her toes and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "I’ll see you in the morning," she said and walked out of the small kitchen.
***
Eva sat with her back to the window as a slight breeze blew in ruffling the white lace curtains. The smell of rain hung in the air as she stared at the open book in front of her. She had been "reading" the same page over and over but her mind was elsewhere. The lump on the back of her head made sure she wouldn’t forget the green-eyed girl in a hurry.
"EVA!"
Eva looked up quickly at her father, who sat meters away from her. The last thing she wanted to do was aggravate Muller. He wore a scowl on his face, one she was very familiar with. "I called you twice! Are you going deaf?"
"No, Father," Eva replied quietly. "I was just thinking."
Muller grunted and went back to signing some papers. "Did you hire a maid, as I told you to?" He asked, not looking up from his work.
"No, Father."
Muller stopped what he was doing and looked up at Eva. He took off his glasses and held them in his hand whilst not breaking eye contact. "Why don’t you ever listen when I tell you to do something?"
"I don’t want a maid."
"You need one."
"Despina helps me and she’s--"
"Hire a maid," Muller repeated before returning to study the report in front of him. After a moment, he stopped and looked up again at Eva. "Why didn’t you tell me about the rock being thrown at you?"
"I didn’t think it was important," Eva replied quietly. "You had your hands full."
"It could have easily been a bullet," Muller chastised Eva. "You are far too casual with the villagers."
"I don’t--"
"Next time something like that happens, your guards have orders to kill," Muller said and went back to his notes. Had he looked up he would have seen a very dark look being directed at him by Eva.
"Father, it was a simple case of a girl throwing a rock."
"Go to bed, Eva," Muller muttered.
"Yes, Father." Eva picked up her book and got up rather stiffly. Her back was aching and she gingerly began to cross the room.
Muller watched her over the top of his glasses. He pursed his lips. "What’s the matter?"
"Nothing, Father, it’s just a little stiffness," Eva replied as the ache in her back sent dagger-like pain shooting down her spine and down her legs. It made her sick to her stomach. But she wasn’t going to admit any weakness in front of Muller.
"Should I call Nurse Edith?"
Eva shook her head. "No, I’ll be fine. I’ll be going to bed."
***
Muller watched Eva leave the room and for a long moment he stared at the door. He decided it was time to contact his brother, Dr. Dieter Muller, to discuss his daughter with him. It had been a long time since he had talked to Dieter about Eva. He scribbled a note to himself and absently tapped the pen against the papers he held in his hand. His musing was cut short when Captain Reinhardt entered, saluted, and waited for his commanding officer.
"Did you read these reports?" Muller asked, indicating the pile of papers on his lap.
"Yes, sir."
"How reliable are they?" Muller looked at Reinhardt over the top of his glasses.
"Well, as reliable as the KKE can be, sir."
"That doesn’t tell me anything, Captain."
"I think they are reliable."
Muller looked down at the papers in front of him. "Let them."
"Sir?"
"Are you deaf, man?"
"No, sir."
"I said, let them. Get the troops out first, of course. Then have a reception awaiting the Greek dogs."
"Yes, sir."
"You can go." Reinhardt turned to leave. "Reinhardt, don’t kill them. I have other plans."
"Yes, sir." Reinhardt saluted and left.
Muller sighed. He was tired of the war, tired of the Resistance movements. He picked up his wine and sipped it, contemplating life after the war.
Chapter Nine
"Schnell! Schnell!"
"Anschlag oder ich schieße!"
The command was followed by gunfire and the sound of screams and abuse emanating from the street below. The commotion woke Zoe from her sleep. She was disoriented at first, as she struggled out of bed and pulled back the curtains. The tableau she saw before her made her blood run cold. A man lay on the road, his blood already staining the dirt, his life ebbing away. A German soldier stood above him. Zoe jumped when the soldier fired into the prone man.
Zoe was shocked and craned her neck to see further into the street. To her horror, she saw three men nearby with their hands above their heads, surrounded by soldiers. "Oh no," Zoe whispered in shock. "Oh, dear God, no," she uttered as she met Stavros’ eyes. They looked at each other and he nodded before being led roughly away.
Stavros was in the hands of the Germans and there was nothing Zoe could do about it. She could scream and holler until she was hoarse, but the image of the dead partisan, his blood staining the ground, was too much for her to bear.
"You don’t exist! It’s all lies!" Zoe cried out against the god who didn’t exist for her. "I’ll get you out, Stav." She had no idea what she was going to do but she was determined to try something. Even as she was getting dressed, she was forming a plan to break them out. She stopped and sat down heavily on the floor. "Who am I kidding?" She asked as she began to cry. She was helpless to do anything.
"Damn you, God!" Zoe yelled and thumped the floor with her fist. "I hate you!"
***
The light streamed through the open window and woke Zoe, who had succumbed to her tears and fallen asleep on the wooden floor. She felt a little dazed and then the previous evening’s horror came flooding back.
Zoe got up and began to cry again. She dressed mechanically and walked out to the kitchen. There was a note on the table. Her hands trembled as she picked it up.
"You know what I want for breakfast? Fresh eggs, lots of honey, good Greek coffee, and to sleep as long as I want — but not in that order. Don’t worry about me, little one. Everything will be alright. Kiriakos came tonight. Apostolos couldn’t come—his younger brother Notarios was killed and he took him home. Kiriakos, Antonios, myself and Giorgos will be going earlier than planned. We should be back after things have calmed down in a day or so. While you are waiting, do something about my breakfast order."
Zoe stared at the note for a long time. She didn’t want to believe what she had seen during the night. She wanted to believe it was one huge nightmare, a nightmare within a nightmare. She went over to the small weapons cache they had and picked up a small handgun. She was going to kill that demon spawn and she didn’t care if she died trying.
Zoe closed the door behind her and listened to her own footsteps echoing in the quiet of the early morning as a light drizzle began to fall. She slowed when she approached the prone figure on the ground. The Germans had not picked up the body, leaving it out in the rain as an example of what happened to anyone who resisted them.
Zoe crossed herself despite her thundered admonitions to a god she claimed she no longer believed in. She pulled the shawl around her, put her head down, and walked swiftly to her destination. She rounded the corner and slammed into Father Haralambos’ ample figure, which caused her to drop her bag.
The gun fell at Father Haralambos’ feet.
"I’m so sorry," Zoe said as she knelt to collect her bag and the gu
n.
Father Haralambos looked around and then helped Zoe up. "Where are you going, my child?"
"An eye for an eye--isn’t that what your precious Bible says?" Zoe spat, trying desperately not to scream.
"No, it doesn’t say that, little one," Father Haralambos replied. "Well, not exactly."
"Don’t. Call. Me. That." Zoe looked into Father Haralambos’ eyes and ground out the words, regretting losing her temper with him.
"Alright, I won’t call you that. You’re a woman now," Father Haralambos said with a twinkle in his eye. "Come with me."
"No."
"You want to stay out in the rain? You can if you wish, but I’m old and I don’t think I’m going to get any younger or drier staying out here."
The drizzle had turned into a light rain and Zoe mutely followed Father Haralambos into the church. She halted for a moment and then crossed herself, more out of habit than belief, before going by the altar.
Father Haralambos watched her in silence for a few moments. "You still believe."
Zoe looked at the priest and shook her head. "No, I don’t. It’s a bad habit."
"Are you trying to convince yourself that you hate our Lord and to deny Him in your heart?" Father Haralambos asked quietly, watching the young woman as he lit a candle.
"What do you care, Father? You are wasting your time. There are Greeks dying out there. Don’t you hear them? You sit here and you preach about love and forgiveness. Who do I forgive?"
"We all do our part. We all sin, and we all need forgiveness."
"Do you know about loss? You’re not married." Zoe flailed her arms in rage. "You can’t know the loss of your wife or children. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up and find out your loved one has been captured by the enemy. You don’t know, do you?" She stared at Father Haralambos and then looked up at the statue of Christ on the cross, shaking her head in disgust. "Will you be there for Samia tonight when Giorgos is six feet under? His blood has stained the ground. Will you forgive the animal that killed him?"
"Sometimes it is best if our left hand does not know what our right hand is doing."
"Are you going to join us to free Greece?" Zoe offered Father Haralambos the gun. "You can use both hands."
In The Blood Of The Greeks (Intertwined Souls Series Book 1) Page 7