“Now I am quite sure that you are Athene.”
The caressing tone was back in his voice and Avila felt her heart turn over.
Then he related,
“It is with many apologies that Lady Bedstone regrets that she is so tired that she feels sure that you will understand if she does not join us for dinner.”
“I was afraid that it was rather a long journey for her,” Avila managed to say.
“I am more delighted than I can put into words,” the Prince pronounced, “that we can be alone.”
Because she felt that she should now say something Avila replied,
“I am rather surprised that maybe the British Ambassador and certainly Lord Cardiff did not expect to be your guests.”
“As a matter of fact I think that they did expect it,” the Prince replied, “but I told them that unfortunately a great number of my relatives were coming to the funeral.”
He saw the expression in Avila’s eyes and added swiftly,
“I did not lie. I merely told them about my relatives and they assumed that they would be staying with me.”
“Now you are being very evasive,” Avila said. “But how did you know that you wanted us to be alone?”
“I did not know until I met you,” the Prince replied. “Then when I saw you and thought that you must have stepped out of my dreams, I knew that I wanted to show you my house and talk to you alone.”
“So it all happened on the spur of the moment.”
“I think it was pre-ordained,” the Prince answered. “We were both here perhaps when the house was first built.”
Every word he said to Avila seemed to vibrate through her whole body.
She knew that she responded not only with her mind but with her heart and soul,
‘He must not know what I feel for him,’ Avila told herself rapidly.
Next with a tremendous effort she said lightly,
“You are making Greece too difficult for me to understand. Tell me now of your plans for the future. Surely you don’t five here alone?”
“I am seldom alone,” the Prince answered. “Again it was Fate or perhaps a Decree of the Gods, but I was abroad when my uncle died and I only returned to Greece three days ago.”
He spoke as if in its own way it had been a certain triumph and Avila enquired,
“And what do you do when you are living here?”
“Look after my estate. I also play a part in the Government of Greece and at the moment I am deeply engaged in something which I will show you tomorrow.”
Avila held up her hands in protest.
“We are not going back ‒ tomorrow?” she questioned. “It will be impossible for me to sleep tonight in case I am missing something important from the moment the hands of the clock ‒ pass midnight.”
The Prince did not dispute her anxiety, but simply told her,
“Dinner is ready. May I have the honour, Your Royal Highness, of taking you in to enjoy it?”
He held out his arm as he spoke.
Avila put her hand on it delicately, exactly as her mother had taught her to do.
They walked down a long cool, beautifully arched passage which led to the Dining Hall.
As they did so, Avila thought that they might almost be husband and wife on their way to have dinner together in their own home.
It was just a passing thought.
But, as it swept through her mind, she knew that this was something she would always remember and think of when she returned home.
Then there would be no chance of her ever seeing Prince Darius again.
CHAPTER SIX
Avila woke in the morning with a growing feeling of excitement that today was going to be extremely significant for her. She was not quite sure why or how, but she felt certain that it would be.
She had gone to bed dreaming of Prince Darius.
She thought as she came downstairs that he looked even more handsome than he had in her dreams.
She had been told when her maid called her that Lady Bedstone was very sorry but she did not feel well enough to get out of bed this morning.
Avila had gone to see her in her bedroom and found that there was really nothing wrong with her.
The truth was that Lady Bedstone was afraid that she might have to walk some distance or perhaps climb up the side of a hill.
“I know what men are like,” she grumbled, “when they are showing off something they prize. Quite frankly, ma’am, I am too old for it.”
“I think you are being very sensible,” Avila replied, “and I will tell you all about it when I come back.”
When she was dressed, she found among Princess Marigold’s black gowns the dress that she had worn when she had arrived at The Traveller’s Rest in Tilbury.
It was thin and white. She put it on, thinking that she was unlikely to see anyone except for the Prince today and there was a small simple straw hat to go with it.
She still did not know where they were going.
Because she knew that the Prince was expecting her to ask questions, she deliberately did not show any curiosity.
‘If he wants to seem mysterious,’ she told herself ‘then I will let him be up to the last moment.’
They drove for only a very short distance to a small bay where she saw that there was a yacht moored.
It was quite a small yacht and, as the Prince helped her out of the chaise, having handed the reins to a groom who had sat behind, he said,
“This is the yacht I use when I am visiting the Islands. I should have told you before that I have been made a Guardian of several Islands, the most outstanding being the one we are now going to.”
“That is, of course, what I am all agog to hear about,” Avila started to enthuse.
He was smiling as he observed,
“You have contained your curiosity very well and I do promise you that you will not be disappointed.”
It was a glorious day with the sun shining brightly and the sea quiet and still.
As soon as they started to move away from the shore, Avila stood at the rail looking out over the Aegean Sea.
It was so lovely that she thought perhaps the Prince was just taking her on a tour of the nearby Islands.
Then as they moved through what seemed a transparent blue of the sea ahead, the Prince quizzed her,
“Have you not guessed where I am taking you?”
“I should be afraid to do so,” Avila said. “You have been so mysterious that you would not be disappointed to find that I have guessed wrong.”
“Look ahead!” the Prince urged.
She did and it seemed to her that there were a number of white Islands, all shining in the sun and somehow a little ghostly.
^Those are ‘The Wheeling Ones’,” the Prince told her softly. “They seem to wheel round one small Island which stands so lonely in their midst.”
Avila gave a little start and then she cried,
“I know now where we are going.”
“I thought you might guess,” he answered. “Where else should I take Athene?”
“It is to Delos.”
Now Avila felt a strange excitement sweeping over her.
She had heard about Delos all her life.
She knew that it was where Apollo had been born and to the Greeks it was the most Holy of all their precious Islands.
Because it was all so thrilling, she could not think of anything to say.
So they stood in silence until the yacht stopped in a bay where there was a small wooden quay.
It was built high enough for the gangway to be let down onto it.
“As I have been coming here so often,” the Prince explained, “I found this bay. It saves me from going to the Port, which is the only place on the island where we would find any people.”
He and Avila walked ashore.
Now, as they moved inland, she could see the low ground which was a mass of flowers.
Anemones in every colour flooded the meadows and she could se
e peeping through them just a few gleaming columns and ruins glittering in the sunshine.
It was so lovely that she could only stare at what she was seeing and it was impossible to put into words what she felt.
Prince Darius did not move.
Avila had the impression that there was a strange light glittering and shining in the sky and the air itself felt like a dancing flickering flame.
It was just so unusual and different from anything that she had ever experienced in her life.
Without thinking what she was doing, she then put out her hand and slipped it into the Prince’s.
His fingers tightened on hers.
As he did so, she felt a mysterious quivering and could not understand if it was in the air above her or in her breast.
Then, as she walked on, looking at the beauty of the flowers and the distant hills, she had for a moment a very special picture in front of her.
The whole island shone white with Temples.
At the same time she was sure that she heard the beating of silver wings and the whirring of silver wheels. Always in tradition these were the outward signs that Apollo himself was present and protecting them.
How long they stood there just holding hands she had no idea.
Then she was forced to close her eyes because her feelings were too intense to bear.
The Prince then said quietly,
“The God of Light was born here and the Greeks are perfectly aware of the very strange quality of Light that illuminates this island.”
“I can ‒ feel it,” Avila said in a whisper.
“As I knew you would,” the Prince answered her with a shining smile on his lips.
He drew her forward and they started to walk over the anemones.
As he did so, he related,
“This is the virgin Island and no one was allowed to be born, to die or to be sick here. As you have just felt, a Divine Light covers the whole of Delos in glory.”
“That is true. Really ‒ true,” Ayila said in a rapt voice. “When I read about ‒ Delos I had no idea that I could feel like this, exactly as ‒ if Apollo was ‒ still here.”
“But he is!” the Prince insisted firmly. “Every time I come here I become more and more aware that the Light of the Island still comes exclusively from him.”
They walked on through the anemones.
In front of them there was a small hill which the Prince told Avila was once covered with Temples. And there were the ruins of them still visible between the anemones, the ivy and the barley-grass.
Avila could see many ruins of Parian marble and she then had the strange impression that the stones were only waiting to rise again.
As she and the Prince moved amongst the ruins, she was aware of the quietness of an unexplained mystery.
They walked for quite some time and then unexpectedly she saw some olive trees.
Under them stood a table covered with a pure white cloth on which there were arranged various dishes and plates.
She looked at the Prince for an explanation and he told her,
“Here it is, our luncheon. I felt that we would not want to be waited on by servants who might interrupt our thoughts and our feelings. So we will help ourselves.”
“How could you think of anything quite so delightful?” Avila asked.
“I was thinking of you,” he answered.
They sat down at the table and there were the most delicious dishes to eat which only the Greeks could make.
There was a delicious golden wine to drink that Avila thought must be the nectar of the Gods.
While they were eating, the Prince told her how in later times many of the lesser Gods came here to shelter under the wings of Apollo.
“There were Temples here to Cybele, Hadad, Astarte and Isis and the Island became so sacred that few Kings, however avaricious, ever dared attack it.”
“It must have been very very beautiful,” Avila sighed.
“It was so beautiful, with so many treasures on it, that almost every country in the world has managed to steal what was our heritage.”
His voice sharpened as he went on angrily,
“The Ottoman Turks sent expeditions to the island and then knocked down the statues of the Gods and to lop off legs, arms and heads. They transported the marble trunks and torsos to Constantinople.”
“How could they do ‒ anything so ‒ ghastly?” Avila wanted to know.
“All men are greedy,” he replied. “But I believe there are still treasures here hidden deep in the ground, which have not yet been discovered even after two thousand years of pilfering. I intend to find these for Greece and to keep them for her.”
Avila looked around at the anemones and wondered if there really was anything left of the sublime glory that had been Apollo’s.
They had finished their luncheon and the Prince rose and put up his hand.
“Come with me,” he suggested, “and I will show you what I have found.”
Avila’s eyes fit up.
“Can there really,” she asked him, “be anything left behind ‒ after all these years?”
The Prince did not reply.
He was climbing up the low hill that was just behind where they had been eating.
They had reached some way up when the Prince put out his arm and they stopped.
Then, as Avila looked to the right, she saw what appeared to be a wooden door with a bar across it.
She glanced for at the Prince enquiringly and he said,
“Just before I had to go away I discovered a cave which I am sure that no one has found before.”
He paused a moment and then carried on,
“I only had time to look at it briefly and, because I was afraid that people might explore it when I was away, I had, as you see, a door placed on the entrance which is locked.”
He drew a key from his pocket, opened the padlock and raised the bolt.
He then pulled open the door, which was roughly made of a heavy wood.
Avila saw inside that there was a lantern on the floor and the Prince picked it up and lit it.
Then he suggested with a smile,
“Now we will go and explore.”
She took the hand that he held out to her and, bending their heads because the cave was a low one, they moved forward.
A few seconds later it opened out into a much larger cave where the Prince was able to stand upright.
He lifted his lantern so that they could look round.
Avila could not see anything unusual and he said,
“I am sure that this cave was used by those who worshipped Apollo. It does not speak of murders or sacrifice but of faith and to me the promise of Light.”
Avila made a little murmur. It was what she felt too and she was sure that the people who had come here worshipped Apollo with a pure and true faith.
The cave had an enchantment all of its own and she could feel it very strongly.
The Prince moved on.
They were just about to enter a further cave when suddenly there was a loud bang behind them.
They both started and turned round.
As they did so, Avila was aware that the light that had come from the open door had vanished and now there was only darkness.
Even as she was aware of it, she heard the bolt on the door being thrust into place.
Then came a hoarse ugly voice from that direction,
“Stay in there and rot! You have no right to be in a cave that belongs to the God Apollo.”
The Prince moved quickly backwards to where they had come.
“You are making a mistake,” he said in a commanding voice. ‘I am Prince Darius and a Guardian of this Island of Delos. Open the door at once that you have just closed.”
He waited and Avila held her breath.
Then suddenly there was a burst of shrill mad laughter.
“A Prince or beggar,” the voice outside jeered, “you have no right to be here. Only the Gods themselves are allowed on this Isla
nd.”
His Greek was coarse and Avila knew that the speaker came from the gutter.
At the same time there was an ominously mad note in his voice and in his laughter.
Now he was laughing again.
“You will rot in the darkness,” he shouted. “You will die in agony as other thieves have died and the worms will eat your flesh.”
“Now you listen to me ‒ ” the Prince began.
Even as he spoke the man was laughing again, it was a shrill, uncanny and unpleasant sound which seemed to rise to a sharp crescendo.
Then it faded slowly.
He was still laughing and Avila knew that he was moving down the hill that they had just climbed.
Then he must have hurried over the anemones until they could no longer hear him.
The Prince set down the lantern that he was holding in his hand and put his shoulder to the door.
Although he pushed against it with all his strength, it did not move an inch or even creak.
Suddenly Avila was frightened. Very frightened.
Without thinking of what she was doing, she threw herself against the Prince, clinging to him as she asked,
“Shall we ‒ really stay here ‒ and die?”
He then put his arms around her and without speaking bent his head and his lips were on hers.
He kissed her possessively and fiercely.
For a second she stiffened and then the wonder of his kiss swept over her and she felt her body melt into his.
He kissed her for a long time and she felt as if it was a part of the mystery, wonder and beauty of the Island of Delos.
Once again she could hear the beating of silver wings and the whirring of silver wheels.
It was only when the ecstasy of it was so wonderful that she felt she could no longer be alive that the Prince raised his head.
“My darling, my sweet glorious darling,” he said a little unsteadily. “I have waited so long for this. Now I know that you are mine, as you were meant to be a million years ago.”
Avila was looking up at him and by the light of the lantern he could see the rapture in her eyes.
“I love you,” he said softly. “Now tell me what you feel about me.”
“I ‒ love ‒ you,” Avila replied a little incoherently and hid her face against his shoulder.
Prince Darius held her very close.
The Love Light of Apollo Page 8