None of the separate, discouraging negotiations had taken long, and by the evening of that same day Grigg had combed the port and now found time on his hands. Thinking about it all, over an early drink, he wondered if word could have gone round as to the real destination of his proposed excursion. He also wondered if the island could be an enclave of the military, who were often to be found embattled in the most renowned and unexpected corners of the land. It seemed unlikely: the young man would have been proud to tell him so at once, as a young cowherd had told him at the ancient castro above Thessalonika. Besides, the ship he had seen could hardly have served for war since the Pericleans. It struck him to wonder whether the ship had returned during the night. He felt sure that it belonged to the island and not elsewhere. He even thought of buying a pair of field-glasses, but desisted because they would have to be carried all the way home.
Over his next ouzo, Grigg went on to consider why it mattered to him about reaching the island, especially when so much difficulty seemed to be involved. He decided that, in the first place, it had been the beautiful ship. In the second place, it had been the hostility to her of the people in the café. Grigg was one whose feelings were usually contrary to any that might be expressed in mass emotion; and he was confirmed in this when the popular feeling was so morally narrow and so uniform as, commonly, among the Hellenes. In the third place, it was undoubtedly the mysterious business about the island being bad because very old. A perceptive traveller in Hellas comes to think of the Parthenon as quite modern; to become more and more absorbed by what came earlier. Soon, if truly perceptive, he is searching seriously for centaurs.
All the same, Grigg quite surprised himself by what he actually did. Walking along the hard road in the heat of the next mid-afternoon, with almost no one else so foolish as to be about at all, apart from the usual discontented coach trip, he observed a small boat with an outboard motor. She was attached, bow on, to a ring. He could borrow her, visit the island, be back almost within an hour, and pay then, if anyone relevant had appeared. He was sure that it was now or never. He was able to untie the painter almost at his leisure, while the coach-party stared at him, welcoming the familiar activity and the familiar-looking man who was doing it. The engine started popping at the first pull. A miracle, thought Grigg, who had experience of outboards: fate is with me. In a matter of hardly more than seconds in all, his hand was on the helm and he was off.
To anyone that loves the seas of Britain or the great sands of Belgium and Holland, there is something faintly repulsive about the tideless Mediterranean and Aegean, which on a calm day tend to be at once stagnant and a little uncanny. Dense weed often clogs the shallows, uncleaned by ebb and flow; and one speculates upon fathom five and millennia many of unshifting spoil. While he was still near the shore, Grigg’s enjoyment was mitigated also by the smell, much more noticeable than from the land; but soon the pleasure of being afloat at all worked on him, and within minutes there was nothing in his heart but the sun, the breeze, the parting of the water at the prow of the boat, and the island ahead. After a spell, he did half look over his shoulder for a possible gesticulating figure on the quay. There was no one. Even the coach-party was re-embarked and poised to go elsewhere. And soon the lights that sparkled on the miniature waves were like downland flowers in spring.
Upon a closer view, the building on the island’s back proved to be merely the central section, or keep, of saffron-coloured fortifications that included the whole area. In view of what the man at the tourist office had said, they had presumably been erected by the Turks, but one never quite knew whether there had not been contributions from the Venetians, or the Normans, or the Bulgars, or the Cyclops, or, at different times, from them all. Some of the present structures seemed far gone in decay, but all of them were covered with clusters and swags of large, brightly coloured flowers, so that the total effect was quite dazzling, especially when seen across a few hundred yards of radiant blue sea. Grigg perceived that the island was simply a rock; a dark brown, or reddish brown rock, which stood out everywhere quite distinctly from the lighter hue of the stonework.
Then he saw that the sunlight was glinting on glass in at least some of the windows, small and deepset though they were. To his right, moreover, an ornamental balustrade, hardly a part of the fortress, descended the sloping back of the island until it ended almost at sea-level. Grigg thought that the rock might continue to slope in the same gentle degree under the water, so that it would be as well to go cautiously and to keep well out; but it seemed, none the less, the likeliest end of the island for a landing. He rounded the island in this way without incident, and saw that on the far side there was a square stone harbour, though void alike of craft and citizens. He cut off his noisy engine and drifted in. He marvelled more than ever at the number, the size, and the gorgeousness of the flowers. Already, still out at sea, he could even smell them: not the smell of one particular species, but a massed perfume, heavy and almost melodious, drifting across the limpid water to meet and enfold him. He sailed silently in like a coasting bird, and settled perfectly at the harbour steps, as one commonly does when not a soul is looking. Grigg sprang ashore, climbed the steps, which were made of marble, and made fast to one of the rings in the stonework at the top. He observed that here the ocean-verge was uncluttered with weed, so that he could look downwards many yards through the water and the shoals of fish to the sunny sand below.
Having but borrowed the boat, he meant, of course, to remain for only a matter of minutes; merely to make up his mind as to whether there was anything on the island to justify the difficulty of a renewed effort for a more conventional visit. At once, however, he realized how glad he was to be alone, how greatly a professional boatman would have spoiled his pleasure.
On this side of the long sloping balustrade were wide steps; a marble staircase leading from port to citadel. They were immaculate: even, level, and almost polished in their smoothness. Grigg ascended. On his right was the bare brown rock. He noticed that it was strikingly rough and gnarled, with hardly anywhere a flat area as big as a lace handkerchief. He put his hand on this rough rock. It was so hot that it almost burnt him. Still, soil had come from somewhere: as well as the wonderful flowers, there were fruit trees ahead and heavy creepers. Curiously coloured lizards lay about the steps watching him. He could not quite name the colour. Azure, perhaps; or cerulean. When he reached the citadel, there were nectarines hanging from the branches spread out against the yellow walls. They seemed much ahead of their time, Grigg thought, but supposed that so far south the seasons were different. He was feeling more and more a trespasser. The island was quite plainly inhabited and cared for. There was nothing about it which accorded with the impression given at the tourist office.
The citadel had wooden gates, but they were open. Grigg hesitated. There was nothing to be heard but the soft sea and the bees. He listened, and entered the citadel.
The structure ranged round three sides of a stone-paved courtyard. The fourth side, which faced away from the bigger island, had either fallen or been bombarded into ruin, and then perhaps been demolished, so that now there was nothing left but high, rough edges of yellow masonry framing the view of the open sea, vast, featureless, and the colour of the sky. Again there were flowers everywhere, with a big flowering tree near the centre of the court. The glazed windows stood open, and so did several doors. Grigg did not care to enter: the place was clearly lived in, and he had no justification for being there.
Still he did not feel as yet like returning.
On the far side of the courtyard was another open gateway. Grigg passed cautiously through it. There seemed nothing to worry about. As usual, no one was to be seen. There were not even the farm animals he had half expected. There was nothing but a tangle of collapsed defence structures from past centuries, starting with an irregular wall which ringed this entire end of the island at little above sea-level. Between the many ruined buildings was dense, sharp grass, reaching above Grigg’s knees, and
unpleasantly suggestive also of snakes. None the less, he ploughed on, convinced by now that this was his only chance, as he would never be able to find a reason for coming back.
A considerable garrison must have been installed at one time, or at least contemplated. The place was still like a maze, and also gave the impression, even now, of having been abandoned quite suddenly, doubtless when the Turks departed. There were still long guns, mounted and pointed out to sea, though drawn back. There were straggling, dangerous stacks of stone, and other obviously ancient heaps that might once have been heaps of anything. Grigg was far too hot and increasingly lacerated, but he determined to scramble on, as there was a circular tower at the end of the island, which, if climbable, might offer a more revealing panorama. Anyway, who that had imagination, could reach the island in the way Grigg had reached it, and not at least try to climb that tower?
When at long last attained, the tower seemed to be in almost perfect order. Grigg dragged open the parched door, and wound his way up and up through the spiders and other crepusculæ. The circular stone stair emerged through a now uncovered hole in the stone roof, so that the top steps were shapeless and treacherous beneath deep, lumpy silt which had drifted in from the atmosphere.
And then there was a revelation indeed. As Grigg emerged and looked out over the low battlements, he saw on the instant that another boat had entered the small harbour, almost a ship; in fact, without doubt, the ship. She was painted green, and her single blue sail had already been struck. Grigg perceived that now he could hardly depart from the island without explanations.
He descended the tower, not having studied the other features of the prospect as carefully as he otherwise would have done. As he stumbled back through the débris and thick, dry vegetation, he grazed and sliced himself even more than on the outward scramble. He felt very undignified as he re-entered the citadel, especially as he was hotter than ever.
Standing in the courtyard were three women. They all appeared to be aged between thirty and forty, and they all wore identical greeny-brown dresses, plainly intended for service.
‘Good afternoon,’ said one of the women. ‘Do you wish to stay with us?’ She had a foreign accent, but it struck Grigg at once as not being Greek.
‘Can one stay?’ It was a foolish rejoinder, but instinctual.
‘We do not run an hotel, but we sometimes have guests. It is as you wish.’
‘I am staying in the town. I couldn’t find out anything about the island, so I borrowed a boat to see for myself.’
‘How did you do that?’ asked one of the other women, in what seemed to Grigg to be the same foreign accent. She had dark hair, where the other two were fair, and a darker voice than the first speaker.
‘Do what?’
‘Borrow a boat. They would never lend you a boat to come here.’
‘No,’ said Grigg, certain that he was blushing under the singularly direct gaze of his interrogator’s black eyes. ‘It was difficult.’ After pausing for a second, he took a small plunge. ‘Why should that be?’
‘The Greeks are stupid,’ said the first woman. ‘Violent and vengeful, of course, too; quite incapable of government; but, above all, stupid. They can’t even grow a tree. They can only cut them down.’ She placed her hand on the bole of the beautiful flowering tree which grew in the courtyard. It was a rather fine movement, Grigg thought, much more like the Greeks of myth than any of the Greeks he could remember actually to have seen.
‘They certainly seem to have a particular feeling about this island.’
No further explanation was forthcoming. There was merely another slight pause. Then the first woman spoke.
‘Do you have any particular feeling about this island?’
‘I think it is the most beautiful place I have ever visited,’ replied Grigg, hardly knowing whether or not he exaggerated.
‘Then stay with us.’
‘I have to take back the boat. As I said, I have only borrowed it.’
The third woman spoke for the first time. ‘I shouldn’t take back the boat.’ She spoke with the same accent as the others, and her tone was one of pleasant warning.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Grigg.
‘You’ll be torn to pieces if you do.’
‘Oh, surely not,’ said Grigg, laughing uneasily.
‘Didn’t you steal the boat?’ The woman was smiling quite amicably. ‘Or at least borrow it without asking?’
‘As a matter of fact, yes.’
‘And haven’t you borrowed it so as to come here?’
‘Yes.’
‘They’ll tear you to pieces.’ She spoke as if it were the most foregone of conclusions; but, seeing that Grigg still doubted, she added in friendly seriousness, ‘Believe it. It’s true. If you leave us, you can’t go back. You’ll have to go somewhere else. A long way off.’
Inevitably, Grigg was impressed. ‘But tell me,’ he said, ‘why shouldn’t I – or anyone else – come here?’
The woman with the black eyes looked hard at Grigg. ‘They believe we’re sorcerers – sorceresses,’ she corrected herself, tripping over the language.
Grigg was familiar with such talk among southern peasants. ‘And are you?’ he asked lightly.
‘Yes,’ said the dark woman. ‘We are.’
‘Yes,’ confirmed the first woman. ‘We are all sorceresses.’ There was about about the statement neither facetiousness nor challenge.
‘I see,’ said Grigg gravely; and looked away from them out to the open ocean, empty as before.
‘People who come her usually know that already,’ said the first woman; again in some simple explanation.
Grigg turned back to them and stared for a moment. They really were, he realised, most striking to see, all three of them: with beautifully shaped, muscular, brown limbs; strong necks and markedly sculptural features; and a casual grandeur of posture, which was perhaps the most impressive thing of all. And their practical, almost primitive, garments suited them wonderfully. The two fair women wore yellow shoes, but the dark woman was bare-footed, with strong, open toes. Grigg was struck by a thought.
‘Yesterday I saw your ship,’ he said. ‘In a way, it was why I came. Do you sail her yourself?’
‘Yes,’ said the first woman. ‘We have sometimes to buy things, and they will sell us nothing here. We built the boat on a beach in Albania, where no one lives. We took wood from the forests behind, which belong to no one.’
‘I believe that now they belong to the People’s Republic,’ Grigg said, smiling.
‘That is the same thing,’ said the woman.
‘I suspect that you are right about my little boat,’ said Grigg. ‘They tell you to act more regularly on impulse, but I often act on impulse, and almost always find that it was a mistake, sometimes a surprisingly bad one.’
‘Coming here was not necessarily a mistake,’ said the first woman. ‘It depends.’
‘I wasn’t thinking about that part of it,’ said Grigg, convicted of rudeness. ‘I like it here. I was thinking of what will happen when I go back – whenever I go back.’
‘One of us will guide you to somewhere you’ll be safe. Now, if you wish.’
‘Thank you,’ said Grigg. ‘But I only borrowed the boat and must really return it.’
‘Take it back during the night,’ said the third woman, with unexpected practicality.
And thus it was that Grigg decided to stay; at least until it was dark.
*
There was work to be done: first, the unloading of the ship. Grigg naturally offered to help, but the women seemed very cool about it.
‘The tasks are disposed for the three of us,’ said the woman who had spoken first, ‘and you would find it very hot.’
Grigg could not deny this last statement, as he was already perspiring freely, though standing still. None the less, he could hardly leave it at that.
‘As you are permitting me to intrude upon you,’ he said, ‘please permit me to help.’
&nb
sp; ‘You are not an intruder,’ said the woman, ‘but you are a stranger, and the tasks are for me and my sisters.’
She made Grigg feel so completely unqualified that he could think of nothing to say. ‘The house is open to you,’ continued the woman. ‘Go wherever you like. The heat is not good unless you are accustomed to it.’ The three women then went out through the harbour gateway and down the long flight of marble steps to the ship. Grigg looked after them as they descended, but none of them looked back.
*
Grigg entered through one of the doors and began to prowl about. There were many rooms, some big, some small, but all well proportioned. All were painted in different colours, all perfectly clean, all open to the world, and all empty. The whole place was beautifully tended, but it was hard to see for what, at least by accepted standards.
Grigg ascended to the floor above. The marble staircase led to a landing from which was reached a larger and higher room than any of the others. It had doubtless been the main hall of the citadel. Three tall windows opened on to small decorative balconies overlooking the courtyard. On a part of the floor against the wall opposite these windows were rectangular cushions packed together like mah-jong pieces, to make an area of softness. There were smaller windows high in the wall above them. There was nothing else in the room but a big circular bowl of flowers. It stood on the floor towards one corner, and had been hewn from pink marble. Grigg thought that the combined effect of the cushions, the flowers, and the proportions of the room was one of extreme luxury. The idea came to him, not for the first time, that most of the things which people buy in the belief that they are luxuries are really poor substitutes for luxury.
The Wine-Dark Sea Page 2