For the first time in days, I felt light, as if I had left all my burdens on the mattress behind me. I looked down at the hammock and wondered why I had not tried it yet. First thing I would do, after a quick coffee.
The moment I stepped into the garden, coffee cup in hand, Destine ran to the garden gates, barking a greeting. I saw Vasilis standing outside, beckoning me with his walking stick.
“I’m afraid she’ll take me for a thief and attack me,” he said as I let him in.
I laughed. “I don’t think she’s ever attacked anyone, and I don’t think you’ll be the first. Good morning.”
He handed me a grocery bag containing bread and freshly baked pies from the village bakery. I was surprised he had managed to walk all the way here, as his house was some distance away. He looked at the murky mess in my cup, took it from me, and emptied the coffee into a flowerpot. “At least it’s good fertilizer,” he said, and shook his head as he walked inside the house.
I sat down and hungrily ate a vegetable pie. It tasted good. Real food; I had missed that. Vasilis reappeared with two steaming cups of Greek coffee and sat across the table. I noticed that his walking stick seemed to be more of an option than a need. He moved rather well with both his hands full. I did not comment as I took my first sip of coffee and leaned back contentedly.
Vasilis seemed serious. “When are you thinking of going back to Maronia?” he asked.
Surprised, I pointed at the beautiful garden around us and said, “I’m in no hurry. I’m starting to like this place.” I saw his face darken. “What’s the matter? Do they need the house?”
“No, the house is available. I just thought you were planning to leave tomorrow.”
“You thought right, but if it’s okay with the owners, I’d like to stay until the full moon. I heard it’s beautiful here.”
Vasilis put down his cup and stood up. “I think it would be best if you returned tomorrow, son,” he said, avoiding my eyes.
I was taken aback, but I suspected I knew the reason behind those words. “If this has anything to do with my grandfather, I really don’t care. I’ve noticed the strange looks, but it’s water off a duck’s back. Anyway, I have mostly heard nice things about him. I’ll believe them rather than those who enjoy a good gossip behind people’s backs. It’s all in the past, anyway.”
“If you only knew how often the past finds a way into the present and changes everything …” Vasilis took my hand and looked me in the eye. “Enjoy your stay today, and then may God show you the right thing to do. I just want you to be careful. Very careful.” His eyes were moist, tense.
I wondered whether I should press him for more details, or ignore all the small-town gossip. “I’ll be careful, Vasilis … Don’t forget I have a shepherd to look over me.” I pointed to Destine, who had come to stand beside me.
Vasilis did not return my smile. He shook my hand and made to go.
“I can drop you off, if you want,” I offered. “I’m going to go out, too.”
He raised his stick as he walked away. “I can still use my legs. Have fun, Andreas. If you are back early, come have a glass of wine. Be careful by the water pools. Don’t let a fairy enchant you!”
I did not understand what he was talking about, so I just smiled and waved. I was puzzled by his urging me to leave, but as I settled into the hammock and turned up to look at the clear blue sky, I decided to let Samothrace show me the way.
Iro exited the stables, leading a black horse by the reins. She had just saddled the stallion; its dark coat glistened in the morning sunlight, the heart-shaped white spot between its eyes glowing brightly. She checked the saddle straps and tenderly stroked the horse’s neck, before jumping onto its back in one swift motion.
She was wearing a long white shirt and tight black trousers tucked into her riding boots. A black scarf was wrapped around her neck. She pulled her hair back into an elaborate knot, then tugged at the reins.
Miltos’s voice halted her just before she rode out through the gap in the tall fence. She turned the horse around to face him as he hastened toward her.
“Good morning,” he said. “I didn’t know you were going for a ride. Will you wait for me to saddle up?”
Iro hesitated, trying to find a way to decline without offending her fiancé. “I’m riding out to the water pools. I won’t be long, so don’t bother getting a horse ready.”
Smiling, he asked, “Do you want me to accompany you, or not?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied with a smile. “I just don’t want to be late.”
“Good. Then you start, and I’ll come find you. We can ride back together. We’ll meet at Fonias.” He turned his face up to kiss her.
Iro bent down and barely brushed her lips against his. She softly dug her heels into the horse’s belly, then galloped away toward the woods.
With a frown, Miltos watched her leave the estate. Then he turned back inside the stables. His horse neighed in recognition, anticipating a pleasant ride through the woods.
I drove along the coast for a while, then parked in the shade of a large plane tree and followed the stream up the mountain slope. I had stopped at a taverna to get a bottle of water, and its owner had suggested I hike out to Vathres tou Fonia: the Murderer’s Water Pools. She explained how, after a half-hour climb, I would find myself at one of the most beautiful spots on the island. The streams reshaped the ground every year, so there was always something new to see. If my legs could stand the climb, a further two hours away was the island’s largest waterfall, falling from a height of a hundred and fifteen feet.
Destine walked ahead, never straying too far as we entered the dense woods. The sun’s rays snuck in through the lush green canopy, highlighting the rocks and making the river’s surface sparkle. I knew that walking against the course of the stream would lead me to the first water pool. Destine’s reactions up ahead gave me a heads up whenever someone was making their way down. We crossed paths with many smiling tourists returning from their hikes.
A few minutes later, we came across the first large water pool. A group of naked swimmers splashed around inside it, squealing that the water was cold. They invited us in, but I shook my head. They were brave to go swimming in the icy September waters. Even Destine cast them a look of surprise.
As soon as the pool was behind us, silence reigned in the forest. I began to enjoy the sound of trickling water, the birdsong, the gentle rustle of the tree branches swaying in the breeze. I stopped to take a picture of a small waterfall, and tried to send it to Jill. There was no signal up here. I took a few more photos of Destine posing by the waterfall and then sat on the ground. A quick break, and then I would walk until I got tired again. It seemed unlikely that I would make it all the way up to the large waterfall.
I was playing tug of war with Destine when she suddenly stopped and pricked her ears, turning to look upstream. She growled at something behind the waterfall. Imagining that some kind of wood creature had spooked her, I asked her to sit beside me, but she ignored me.
I leaned back against the tree trunk and gazed at the blue sky and the small white clouds chasing each other as they sprinted over the island. I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. I did not know whether it was the energy of the island, which many visitors claimed to sense, but I felt at one with everything that was calm and peaceful on this land. Life had been tense, and moments such as this rare. Moments where you feel nothing, and that nothingness means everything.
I suddenly heard Destine bark. She was standing beside the rocky ledge over which the water cascaded. I had not even noticed her slip away. I shouted at her to come back, to no avail. On the contrary, she sprinted away, her barking getting fiercer by the minute.
I jumped up and hastily began to climb over the rocks to the top. I saw Destine in the distance among the large tree trunks, manically barking at a horse. Its rider desperately tried to calm down her nervous steed.
Just then, the horse reared on its hind legs, ready to bring
its hooves down on Destine. My heart pounded in my chest as everything seemed to move in slow motion. The rider desperately tugged hard at the reins. The horse missed Destine, but landed hard on its front legs, causing the woman to lose her balance. I watched in horror as she fell to the ground.
I ran up to them, grabbed the now-terrified Destine by the collar, and forced her to sit. The horsed galloped off into the woods, leaving its rider behind. Making sure Destine stayed rooted to the spot, I approached the woman, apologizing at the same time.
She was kneeling, holding her hand. Her long hair fell across her forehead, masking her face. I kept asking if she was okay, but she did not speak. Only when I touched her shoulder did she make an effort to stand. I took her by her uninjured arm and helped her up. She brushed the hair away from her face and looked me straight in the eyes, still not speaking a word. I returned the look, trying to interpret her expressionless gaze. She seemed vaguely familiar, but I was too shaken to think straight.
“I’m okay,” she said, breaking the awkward silence. She gripped her wrist and winced in pain.
“I think you’ve hurt yourself,” I said, unthinkingly touching her arm.
She pulled away. “It’s just fine, thank you. It’s nothing serious.”
She stepped forward to look behind me, where Destine kept her nose to the ground, ashamed. Then the woman looked at her horse, which had stopped its gallop and was now grazing a few feet away. She knelt down and thumped the soil with her hand, calling Destine to her. Destine half-walked, half-crawled in her direction. To my great surprise, she put her muzzle on the woman’s lap, as if she knew her.
“Many dogs are really afraid of horses,” she said, running her fingers through Destine’s coat.
I was impressed by the reaction of both. They behaved as if they were old friends, not as if Destine had just attacked her horse. I felt a twinge of jealousy as woman and dog bonded. As I hovered awkwardly, I noticed a tattoo just below her shoulder. Her long hair fell over it, and it was impossible to read. Her response to the whole incident made me feel even worse about what had just happened. Without any thought for herself or her injury, her first concern had been to soothe the unfamiliar dog.
Finally, she stood up, pulling her hair over one shoulder. Her black eyes scanned me from head to toe before speaking. “I had a German Shepherd a few years ago. She never managed to like horses either. Is she yours?”
For a few seconds I was lost as to what to reply. “Yes, she is with me now. Seeing how she’s acting with you, though, I wouldn’t be surprised if she walks out on me one day.”
“Don’t be fooled by what you just saw. She might be playing with me now, but she only has one true master she really cares for. He is the one she looks after; he is the one whose emotions she picks up on. Dogs are capable of breaking even the sturdiest chain when they sense we may be in danger. My experience has shown me there is something deeply human about them.” Her voice was filled with passion as she spoke, but then she winced again.
“Please accept my apologies, and … Are you sure your hand is okay?”
“It’s nothing,” she said, stroking her wrist. She looked at my arm. “You seem to have hurt yourself, too.”
I looked down. Only then did I notice the blood trickling down my arm. I must have cut myself climbing up the rocks.
She took my arm and pulled me toward the stream. “It’s not terrible, but it’s still a deep gash. Come, we need to clean it.” I felt her fingers tighten their grip.
We knelt by the small stream, and I abandoned myself to her care. With gentle, knowing motions, she began to clean the dust that had settled on the wound. She rinsed my arm carefully, pausing to look at the tattoo on the inside of my wrist. “On the island, we say that when a person’s blood mixes with our water, a part of their soul stays on the island forever,” she said.
I was impressed by what she said, the dreaminess in her voice. She changed tones, however, suddenly becoming very practical. “We need to dress your wound. Wait here,” she said. She pushed herself up and scanned the ground around her.
Destine watched us carefully from a distance. I was concerned by the abrupt changes in her behavior ever since we had arrived on the island.
The woman knelt back down beside me, holding a plant. She pulled the leaves off the stem in one swift motion and crushed them between her palms. She then placed them on my wound, and tightly wrapped the scarf she had been wearing around my arm.
“This should keep it disinfected until someone can see it,” she said, and gave me another one of her intense looks.
“Thank you. Forgive me, but … I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before.” I immediately regretted blurting out such a commonplace phrase.
She didn’t reply, but examined me more closely. She shook her head “no” and gripped her injured wrist again.
“Are you sure it’s not badly hurt?” I pressed.
I touched her wrist tenderly. She did not pull her hand away this time. A small bruise was beginning to show against her white skin.
“We both had a lucky escape,” she said.
Something glinted on the ground beside me. I bent down and picked up a black ring, which hung from a thin leather string that had snapped in two. I noticed the phases of the moon carved all around it. A small black stone decorated the disk of the full moon. “This must be yours,” I said, offering it to her.
Her raised her hand to her neck, checking for the necklace, then reverently took the ring. “Yes, it’s mine. It must have snapped when I fell.”
She hurriedly tied the two ends of the string into a knot and pulled it over her head, bringing the ring around so it rested at the hollow of her neck.
“I apologize for my rudeness,” I awkwardly said. “My name is Andreas.”
“Iro,” she said, and gently pulled her hand away.
“And this is Destine.”
“Destine,” she repeated, absent-mindedly toying with the ring.
The sound of horse hooves approaching made her turn serious and take a step back. Destine was already on her feet, growling.
A man appeared astride a white horse. Iro raised her hand in greeting, casting a quick look in my direction. I was startled by the shadow that seemed to flit across her face. I cried out for Destine to stay as I walked to her and attached the leash to her collar.
The man on the horse crossed the stream, muddying the waters in his wake. Once he was over on our side, he dismounted, his eyes flitting between the two of us. He kept his eyes on me while Iro explained what had happened.
“Miltos … Andreas,” she introduced us.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. “I apologize once again; it’s my dog’s fault.” I offered him my hand.
Miltos hesitated, and then reluctantly shook my hand. “You need to be very careful with animals. Accidents do not take long to happen. My fiancée might have been seriously injured,” he declared solemnly, proprietarily informing me of his relationship to Iro at the same time.
“It was nothing,” she said, trying to break the tension. “I am not blameless. I should have immediately dismounted.”
“No, it’s my fault,” I added, in as friendly a tone as I could muster. “I did not have time to stop her; it all happened so fast.”
“You are not from these parts?” Miltos asked, staring at his fiancée’s scarf wrapped around my arm.
“Yes and no.” I kept my tone as light as I could. “My father’s family is from Samothrace. I was born and raised in New York.”
“First time on the island, then.” Somehow, he managed to make the statement sound like an accusation.
“I came for my grandmother’s funeral.”
Just when I thought the atmosphere was cold enough, it plummeted to new depths of iciness.
“What did you say your name was?” he asked, almost aggressively.
I was beginning to get annoyed. “Look, I already apologized. Now I feel like I’m being interrogated, so if you’ll excuse me, I
need to be on my way.”
I tried to catch Iro’s eye, but she kept her gaze fixed to the ground. I pulled Destine back up to her feet and we began to walk away.
“Is your last name Stais, by any chance?” Miltos shouted after me.
I froze to the spot. Sensing the anger rising inside me, Destine growled. Turning to face him, I said, “Yes. Stais is my last name.”
“So you are the thief’s grandson.”
His words hit me like a punch. It’s different knowing people are saying things behind your back, and having those words thrown in your face. Iro looked at him, confused. I touched Destine’s head, fearing she might become aggressive.
“I am the archaeologist’s grandson. You can keep your lies to yourself, where they belong.”
Iro bit her lip, giving me a look of apology. It took all my self-control to turn away. Miltos, on the other hand, still had a bone to pick. “You are not welcome here. Go pack your bags! You have no place on this island.”
Iro shouted at him to stop, but he ignored her.
“Unless you’ve come back to return the stolen goods,” he taunted me.
This time, I could not control myself. I walked back toward him, holding Destine by the collar, and only stopped at a distance that would keep him safe from my dog’s fangs. “There is a limit to my patience. You can thank the presence of the lady standing behind you …”
“Or what?” he interrupted. “You’d tell your dog to bite me?”
Iro stepped in front of him, holding her arms wide. Her open arms seemed like wings, spread between us to keep us both safe.
I realized that if I lingered any longer, things could get ugly. I glared at Miltos for a moment, looked at Iro, then turned and walked away, this time determined not to turn back no matter what I heard.
I could hear their voices arguing behind me, especially hers. I kept walking, and only when I was a safe distance away did I remove Destine’s leash. It was one of the few moments in my life when I’d felt myself lose my cool, and it had always happened under the pressure of work, never in my personal life. I took a deep breath and exhaled deeply, trying to blow the tension I felt away from my body.
Dominion of the Moon Page 22
