by Kevin Ashman
‘You are a worshiper?’ said Rubria.
‘Yes, Miss, and as I got older and realised the Vestal Temple lay at the foot of the palace, I became the perfect servant in order to gain favour. Soon I was being allowed out on errands and whenever possible, I would seek blessing at the gates of the Temple. So you see, I could not stand by and watch a Priestess die at the hands of a monster. I only wish I could have come sooner.’
‘Oh, Rose,’ said Rubria, ‘You have done more than enough. I will take the tunnels you speak of, no matter how despicable. You must come with me and seek the protection of the temple.’
‘I can’t do that, Miss,’ said Rose sullenly.
‘Why not?’
Rose hesitated.
‘The Phasma,’ she said eventually.
‘Phasma?’ queried Rubria.
‘It is said the tunnels are haunted, Miss,’ said the slave, ‘And I know I am probably very stupid but I can’t help what I believe. The spirits of many people walk the tunnels and I would rather die myself than meet them in the darkness. Besides, I need to do something out here.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Rubria, ‘Why don’t you just come with me? I will look after you, Rose, and when we get out of here the Order of Vesta will ensure you are given a good life.’
‘I would gladly come, Miss, she said, but at the end of the sewer is an iron grill blocking the path. It is locked from the outside. I can leave the palace without raising suspicion and will open it for you to pass.’
‘Do you have the key?’ asked Rubria.
‘No, but I know where to get it.’
‘Where?’
‘On Lembus’s belt!’
Rubria stared at the slave girl in horror.
‘Rose, you can’t go back up there,’ she said, ‘His body may have already been found.’
‘I have no choice,’ she said. ‘It did not occur to me to get the key at the time. The only thing is, if you go into the sewers, and I am caught, then you will be stuck down there with no chance of escape.’
‘It is a chance I have to take,’ said Rubria. ‘I will go through the sewer and welcome it as a penance for my sins. If it is the Great Mother’s will that I die in filth then I will go to my death knowing I have failed her.’
‘But you are not sinful,’ said Rose, ‘You are a Vestal Virgin, the very essence of purity.’
‘Not any more, Rose,’ said Rubria. ‘Perhaps my sin is of self importance and vanity. Perhaps it was I who led our Emperor on. If it was not for the safety of my fellow Sisters, then I would gladly have met Lembus’s blade with head held high.’
‘Don’t say that, Miss. You are not responsible for the lusts of men.’
‘We shall see, Rose,’ said Rubria, ‘It is in the hands of the Goddess. Now, where is this tunnel?’
Rose pulled the rug away and revealed a trapdoor beneath. They both pulled on the recessed metal ring and the trapdoor rose, lifting with it the stench of the filth beneath. Rubria raised her finger to beneath her nose while Rose turned her head away to take a clean breath. Below them, the maintenance shaft dropped away into a stone lined tunnel leading from the latrine. The flow of water at the bottom was evidence of the importance of the sewer and it was obviously fed by a water supply somewhere upstream as a means of flushing away the filth.
‘Okay,’ said Rubria eventually, ‘No point in waiting any longer.’ She sat on the edge and lowered herself into the tunnel. The ceiling was a few inches above her head and made from concrete lintels and she could reach both walls of baked clay bricks if she outstretched her arms. Rubria stood ankle deep in slow moving sewage as Rose risked the stench to lean into the opening above.
‘Follow the flow downstream, Miss,’ she said. ‘I will make all haste to meet you the other end.’
‘Thank you, Rose,’ said Rubria.
‘May the Gods be with you, Miss,’ said Rose and lowered the trapdoor to seal the sewer.
Rubria heard the rug being drawn over the access trap and stood for a few moments in abject fear as she tried to summon the courage to move. The blackness was absolute and she couldn’t see as far as a hand in front of her face. Finally she took a single step forwards, followed by a nervous second. Her outstretched hand dragged against one wall, a slim comfort in the total darkness, and soon she was walking as fast as she dared, without the risk of slipping on the slime and disgusting mess beneath her feet.
Soon she felt the floor of the sewer start to slope downwards and Rubria realised that it must be starting to descend towards the base of the hill. The sound of the trickling water became louder and she realised it must be flowing over an obstacle of some sort. Treading carefully she tested the ground before her with her feet, and was soon rewarded with the first potential hazard. Instead of solid ground, her foot dangled in space and she carefully lowered it down until it again met the sewer floor. It was obviously the first of many steps down to the base of the hill. Over and over again she took a step downwards until she lost all track of how many steps she had taken.
Suddenly a breath of fresh air wafted past he nostrils and her head lifted automatically to gulp in the welcome relief from the stench of the sewer. For a moment she thought she was at her journey’s end but was soon disappointed to see a small circle of light far above her head at the top of a narrow air shaft designed to release the build up of gases. Rubria stood for a long time beneath the shaft, gulping in the air and gazing longingly at the inaccessible light above. For an age she couldn’t bring herself to continue her journey and she sat on pile of collapsed masonry, staring upwards and crying quietly in despair.
Suddenly something ran over her foot and she screamed in fright as the biggest rat she had ever seen was momentarily caught in the circle of light shining down from above. She caught her breath and continued her journey down the subterranean stairway.
Rubria lost all track of time but eventually realised that something was changing. The sound of trickling water had always been with her but now it was getting louder the further she walked. Finally it had become quite loud indeed and Rubria realised it sounded like a waterfall.
‘Oh no,’ she groaned as she realised the implications and though the tunnel was still in total darkness she soon realised her worst fears when she couldn’t find the next step down with her feet.
The steady flow of water that had accompanied her for the last hour or so, now fell from beneath her into a pool below. She had no way of knowing how far below the pool was, or how deep it was. Rubria stopped in despair. She didn’t want to take the last step into the unknown as she had no idea what awaited her below but it was pointless going back as there was no way out that way. She removed one sandal, and, holding it over the edge, dropped it into the darkness, counting as it fell.
‘One, Two, Thr…’ She heard a splash above the sound of the falling water and repeated the exercise with the other sandal.
One, Two, Thr…’ Splash! There it was again. There was no other option, and Rubria realised she had to go on. Already filthy, she sat on the edge of the drop, dangling her legs into the darkness.
‘Holy Mother protect me,’ she prayed and pushed herself forward into the unknown.
Chapter 14
Samothrace 2010
India and Brandon walked from the quay side and up onto the main road running through the island’s one port, Kariamiotisa. Behind them, rows of blue fishing boats bobbed on the swell in the manmade harbour. They waited for the light traffic to pass before crossing and made their way towards the rows of red tiled houses. Brandon consulted a sketched diagram he had been given by the Captain before leading the way up a side street. He stopped before a small tavern with a couple of wooden benches outside.
‘Looks like this is the place,’ he said and knocked on the door before entering the cool darkness within. ‘Hello,’ he called, ‘Anyone home?’
‘Hello,’ came the answer from a rear room, ‘Just a second.’
They waited patiently and eventually an elderl
y lady came out, wiping her flour covered hands in her apron.
‘Hello,’ she smiled, ‘English yes?’
‘Yes,’ said Brandon, ‘We have been given your name by Helios. He said you can give us a room for a couple of nights.’
‘Helios? Yes, such a good boy.’ She looked at India, and smiled. ‘Honeymoons, yes?’
Before India could answer, Brandon answered for her.
‘Yes,’ he said quickly, ‘We are very much in love.’ He put his arm around India as if to prove the point.
‘Aaah,’ said the woman, ‘Very goods, I am Agatha and this is my homes. I will put you up in the best room I have overlooking the seas. She turned to India. ‘Veryromantics,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ smiled India, but as soon as Agatha turned away, she kicked Brandon in the ankle.
‘Is this all your luggages?’ asked Agatha.
‘Yes,’ answered Brandon, ‘It was all very last minute, you understand.’
‘Aaah, young loves,’ said Agatha. ‘I was in loves once, with two brothers from Athens.’
India glanced at Brandon and hid a smile.
‘Come with me and I will show you to your room.’ They followed her up a narrow stone staircase onto a gloomy landing. Agatha opened a door and they filed into a surprisingly spacious and clean bedroom.
‘Lovely views, yes?’ Asked Agatha.
‘Beautiful,’ agreed India, looking out of the window.
Agatha sat on the bed and bounced up and down, making it squeak loudly.
‘Very strong springs,’ she said proudly, ‘Very new, only ten years old. The shower is downstairs and hot water is only available in the morninks. Toilet rolls is here,’ she said, opening a side cupboard. The first one is free. Extra rolls are one euro each. You are happy. Yes?’
‘This will do fine,’ said Brandon, pulling out his wallet, ‘How much do we owe you?’
‘Thirty Euros every night,’ she said, ‘Very cheaps.’
He counted out a hundred and fifty.
‘Five nights should do it,’ he said, ‘Is that okay?’
This is good,’ she said, putting the notes down the neckline of her blouse. She turned to India. ‘Five nights,’ she said with a wink, ‘Much luvvinks, yes?’
India bit her tongue and just smiled
‘Aaah,’ she said, ‘Very romantics. I will leave you in peaces.’ Agatha left the room and India closed the door gently before spinning around with fire in her eyes.
‘Honeymoon,’ she snarled, ‘What on earth made you say that? Why can’t I have my own room?’
‘Calm down,’ said Brandon, ‘I have my reasons.’
‘If you think I am sleeping with you then you are sadly mistaken, mister,’ she said, folding her arms in defiance.
‘India,’ interrupted Brandon, ‘Shut up for a minute and just listen. Don’t forget the killer was from around here and we don’t know anything about him yet. Until we know it is safe, I would rather we stay very close.’
‘Oh,’ said India, ‘Of course, sorry, I didn’t think.’
‘No you didn’t. Don’t worry, you can have the bed, I will sleep on the floor. Anyway, what makes you so sure I would want to sleep with you?’
India’s shock was almost comical as her anger found a new target.
‘Why? What’s wrong with me?’ she snapped.
‘Nothing,’ said Brandon, ‘It’s just… I mean… Oh forget it. I can’t win this argument. Look, I don’t know about you, but I just want a shower and a change of clothes.’
‘Hot water is only available in the morninks,’ said India, mimicking the woman’s accent to break the tension.
‘Ah, yes,’ answered Brandon, ‘I forgot.’ Suddenly he picked up his rucksack and delved into the contents.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ he answered and suddenly stood up holding a pair of Speedo’s.
‘Who needs a shower?’ he asked, ‘When you’ve got the beautiful Aegean on your doorstep. Come on, grab those designer bikinis you fleeced me for, and we will have a bit of a break before the work starts.’
Several hours later they sat outside a tavern, each sipping on a glass of ouzo, watching a spectacular sunset.
‘I have never seen anything so beautiful,’ said India, ‘No wonder they based the Temple of the Gods on this island.’
‘Oh I don’t know,’ said Brandon, ‘The same sunset is probably being watched by millions of other people across the med.’
‘Oh shut up, Brandon,’ said India, ‘Where’s your romance?’
He raised one eyebrow and stared silently over his glass as he sipped his ouzo.
‘You know what I mean,’ said India, ‘Anyway, what is the plan now we are here?’
‘Well, answered, Brandon, ‘The dead man’s license has been traced to somewhere along the coast called Therma. I’ve booked us on a sightseeing trip tomorrow and we’ll visit some of his known haunts. See if we can pick up any information.’
‘When are we going to Paleopolis?’
‘Paleopolis?’ asked Brandon.
‘The Temple of the gods,’ she said. We can’t come all the way to Samothrace and not go to the ruins.’
‘We’ll see,’ said Brandon, ‘Let’s not forget our purpose here. There’s still a little girl missing.’
India nodded sombrely.
‘Do you think she’s okay?’
‘Who knows?’ said Brandon, ‘Everything possible is being done to find her but she seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth. None of the known threats have any knowledge at all. Drug rings, prostitution rackets, even terrorist groups, all have been checked out but nothing.’
‘They could be lying,’ she said.
‘Possible, but we have a network of contacts throughout every known organisation. Either this is a new group or the result of some fanatic acting on his own.’
‘So why aren’t there more of you out here,’ asked India.
‘The main enquiry is going on back home. This is just a wild card, so to speak. We don’t hold much hope of finding anything but we obviously have to cover every angle.’
‘So what have your people found out about the dead man?’ asked India.
‘Not much. We know his name is Peter Venezelos, and his driving license is registered in Therma but apart from that, there’s not much to know. This island is very isolated and he doesn’t appear on any database we can find. In my experience the civil servants in these sort of places are pretty slow in computerising their records. Given time, I’m sure we could dig up all sorts of facts but that’s the one thing we haven’t got, time!’ He called the waiter and ordered more drinks.
‘So, what else can you tell me about this island?’
‘Not much,’ said India, ‘After the death of Elektra the Temple of the Gods went from strength to strength and lasted thousands of years, right up until it was torn down by the Byzantines in the fourth century.’
‘So that’s a dead end as far as the investigation goes then,’ said Brandon.
‘Possibly, though don’t forget, for all those thousands of years previous to that, it was a fundamental part of life to most people across this part of the world.’
They talked long into the night and eventually made their way back to the taverna in the early hours of the morning, slightly worse for wear. They spent an awkward ten minutes getting changed and organising the sleeping arrangements before India curled up on the squeaky bed under a sheet, and Brandon lay on the floor on a makeshift mattress made from two spare blankets they had found on top of the wardrobe.
‘You okay?’ asked India in the darkness.
‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘I’ve slept in a lot worse places than this.’
‘Good night then,’ she said, and closed her eyes, falling asleep within minutes.
— -
The following morning saw them both on a small bus heading along the coast road towards the town named for the natural warm springs that wa
s its main attraction. The bus was filled with tourists, all keen to see more of the island and India could hear a range of languages including Greek, German and British. At the back, were a group of gossiping old women carrying baskets of various farm produce, and the noise of the chickens within some, competed with the bleats of a goat, perched on the shelf of the rear window.
They eventually arrived and India and Brandon got off to follow the tourists into the village. They spent an hour wandering around the market before eventually moving up into the side streets, finally finding the one named on Brandon’s slip of paper. They made their way into the cafe near the end of the row of whitewashed houses. Despite the language differences, they managed to order some coffees and they spent an hour making small talk as they took in the environment around them. They ordered a light lunch and struck up a conversation with a waitress who spoke English and Brandon eventually eased the conversation around to Peter Venezelos, explaining that he had met him on a previous holiday and would like to say hello.
‘Peter has been away for a long time,’ answered the waitress, ‘He left over a year ago, but I know not where.’
‘Does he live around here,’ he asked, ‘Perhaps I could pop in and say hello to his parents. It would be good to see them again.’
The girl paused.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said,’ I don’t understand. His parents have been dead for many years. He and his brother were brought up by Mama Christou. Where did you say you met him?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Brandon, realising he had made a faux pas,’ I must be mistaken. Perhaps I will catch up with him next time.’ He placed some money on the bar and led the way out of the cafe and away from the street. The girl watched them leave curiously before reaching for the handset of an ancient landline on the bar. Outside, India and Brandon crossed the square.
‘That was awkward,’ said India.
‘Schoolboy error,’ said Brandon. ‘I assumed too much too quickly. Still, at least we’ve got a name.’
‘Who?’
‘Mama Christou,’ he said, ‘Sounds like a name most people will know in a place like this.’ He was right. Within a few minutes they had directions to Mama Christou’s house and had found out she was now a frail old woman with failing eyesight. Brandon bought a bunch of flowers and they made their way to an old part of the village. India knocked on the door and a young woman answered.