In The Blood Of The Greeks (Intertwined Souls Series Book 1)

by Mary D. Brooks

  Her concern for the welfare of her surviving child prevented her from joining her departed husband and sons.

  The men of the community who survived went underground to fight the Germans the way their forefathers had fought against the might of the Ottoman Empire. The subversive opposition in the countryside grew and, although the Germans scoffed at the news of the Greek Resistance, their numbers were bolstered with each passing day. For many Greeks, the notion of being an enslaved people was an abomination. The oppressive yoke of the Ottoman Empire had been overthrown in 1828, and many of the older men told tales of the heroic deeds of an earlier generation of Greeks that became part of the Modern Greek psyche.

  Helena hoped Zoe would get married and then she might be able to have a man around the farm, although that prospect was severely limited. Zoe was thirteen, nearly fourteen years old, and very capable of setting up a home of her own. Helena had seen to that. The girl knew how to sew and cook, to clean and take care of a household. Helena was very proud of her daughter and was sure that she would make a very capable wife. Standing in the way of that dream was Zoe’s reluctance to accept any of the men who were suggested by the town’s matchmaker.

  Earlier in the day, the scenario had been repeated with Zoe, who once again dashed the hopes of her mother. Kiria Despina, the town’s matchmaker, had made the trek to the Lambros farm to inquire about Zoe’s availability. Once again she went away shaking her head and without a firm commitment. Helena was certain Kiria Despina would tire of trying to find someone who Zoe would accept.

  Helena smiled when she saw her daughter waiting for her at the gate. "Have you finished your chores?" She asked, knowing full well Zoe hadn’t. Zoe was perfectly capable of spending the whole day reading or sketching.

  Zoe nodded. "Some," she replied, although not very convincingly, since she got a stern look from Helena. "Did the pigs buy it?"

  Helena sighed. "Yes," she said sadly. "Kiria Despina said they wanted it."

  "How much?"

  "Enough so we won’t starve." Helena ruffled Zoe’s hair. "Kiria Despina is worried about you."

  Zoe leaned against the fence and looked up into the dark heavens. "I don’t care."

  "Zoe, she is going to get tired of coming here and asking. She’s running out of boys! What was wrong with Dimitri?"

  Zoe sighed. "He’s too tall and he’s old enough to be my grandfather."

  Helena stared open mouthed at Zoe. "He’s too tall?"

  "Yes." Zoe smiled. "I don’t like tall boys."

  "You don’t like tall boys," Helena repeated. "You don’t like short boys, or boys with brown hair, or boys with black hair." Helena counted on her fingers the many variations of boys Zoe had rejected. "Child, are there any boys you do like?"

  Zoe shrugged.

  "One day you will have to settle on a boy because you’re going to be left alone and nothing is worse than being left on a shelf, especially for a young woman," Helena once again reminded Zoe, although she knew there were worse things. But she needed her daughter to get married, for both their sakes.

  "One day I’m going to meet someone who will be just right." Zoe smiled. "You’ll see, Mama. Kiria Despina won’t have to ask twice."

  "I hope so, I certainly hope so." Helena shook her head and walked inside to start on dinner. "Go and feed the animals."

  ***

  Several hours later Zoe heard Helena’s exasperated voice. "Zoe Lambros, where are you, child?"

  Zoe was fed up with feeding the animals and cleaning the house. There were much more interesting things to do. All she wanted to do was go down to the river, take a book, and read. Theodore, the youngest of her older brothers, had given her a copy of Oliver Twist that he’d found in Athens. It was one of her most prized possessions, a well-read book with dog-eared pages. Zoe had gone behind the chicken shed for some quiet time; it had a tiny overhanging shingle that protected her from the rain. She groaned when she heard her mother’s voice.

  "Yes, Mama," Zoe muttered and got up from the ground, leaving the book behind in a small, safe cache so that her mother would not see it and yell even more. She rounded the corner to find Helena glaring at her.

  "You know you have to help me get these chores done! Were you reading again?"

  "I’m going to see the world one day," Zoe mumbled, repeating what she had told Helena many times before, much to her mother’s annoyance.

  "The only place I want you to see right now is your room. Clean it up."

  "But, Mama—"

  "Zoe, please, don’t argue with me." Helena let out a frustrated sigh.

  "I’m going to leave here one day. You’ll see."

  Helena decided to humor Zoe. "Where would you go?"

  "Away, far away from Larissa and Greece. I’m going to travel and see the world. I want to paint, learn, and become somebody."

  "You are somebody." Helena put her arm around Zoe. "You are Zoe Lambros, a little too rebellious at the moment, but generally a good girl."

  "I want to leave."

  "And leave me alone?"

  Zoe looked up into her mother’s eyes. "You’ll come with me." She smiled. "I want to see what’s over there." She pointed to the mountains. "I want to know what’s out there beyond Mount Ossa."

  "What’s out there, little one, are the Germans."

  "I want us to leave," Zoe mumbled as she picked up a stone. She looked at it and threw it against the barn.

  "We can’t leave, my love. We can’t go anywhere."

  "Why can’t we go to live with Aunty Stella?"

  Helena sighed deeply. "You know travel is dangerous, especially for a woman and a child on their own."

  "I’m not a child. I’m nearly fourteen. I’m old enough to get married."

  "Yes, you are old enough but it’s not safe. I hear stories of what happens when women are caught by the Germans, and it’s not something I would like to experience."

  "Why can’t Aunty Stella come here?" Zoe persisted.

  "What did I just say about single travelers?"

  "Aunty Stella is fearless. She travelled to Athens and she’s a doctor."

  Helena put her arms around Zoe and laughed. "You are precious. Just because someone is a doctor doesn’t make them invincible."

  "No, but Aunty Stella is."

  "Oh, my precious child, I wish we could join Aunty Stella in Thessaloniki but that won’t happen," Helena said as she hugged her daughter. "Have you seen your cousin Stavros?"

  "Not today. I’m going into town tomorrow. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?" Zoe looked at Helena, who had an anxious look on her face. Zoe turned to where her mother was looking and saw the reason.

  A column of vehicles was passing through on the dirt road throwing up a cloud of dust in their wake. The distinctive and despised swastika of the Third Reich emblazoned on the doors heralded the arrival of more Germans.

  "Who is that?"

  "The new commander," Helena replied. "I heard he was coming in today."

  Zoe grinned as she watched the procession pass through. "Helgberg got a very nice send-off by our boys."

  "Zoe, you shouldn’t be happy about someone’s death."

  "Yes, I can. If they are German pigs, I will dance on their graves with tambourines." Zoe started to dance a jig as she swirled around the courtyard amongst the chickens.

  Helena shook her head and laughed. "My little one, war is not a dance."

  "No, but this is our country. This is my country and they are invaders. We will beat them like we beat the Turks." Zoe looked at Helena and held her hand. "Don’t worry, Mama, once this war is over, I’ll get married to a nice boy and everything will be just fine."

  Chapter Two

  Eva Muller gazed out of the window at the woman washing her clothes out in their front yard. The woman was dressed in black from head to toe. The new commander’s house was situated slightly on a hill overlooking several houses. Most of them were commandeered by the Germans as Officers’ quarters but a few were left t
o the villagers to remain.

  Eva was Major Han Muller’s daughter, a tall, dark haired, blue-eyed young woman of twenty-two. She glanced at her cane, which was leaning against the wall, and shook her head slightly at her predicament. She watched the woman freely moving about and envied the villager’s freedom.

  Eva turned at the sound of her bedroom door opening expecting her nurse to walk through. A smile spread across her face when she saw a friendly face instead. Nurse Frieda Ackman, a middle-aged tall woman with blond hair and twinkling green eyes, walked in a crisp white uniform.

  "Frieda!" Eva exclaimed as she grabbed her cane and walked the short distance to her former nurse.

  "Well, there you are!" Frieda replied and opened her arms to Eva. "They told me you were up here. My goodness, why did they put you up the stairs?"

  "My father’s idea to strengthen my back. What are you doing here?"

  "Sit and I’ll tell you." Frieda put her arm around Eva as they walked over to the bed. "Now, how are you?" She asked and took Eva’s hand.

  "I’m alright."

  "You don’t look alright to me," Frieda replied and gently tipped Eva’s face towards the light. "You haven’t been sleeping."

  "That hasn’t changed since you last saw me. I can’t sleep."

  "You’re not taking your medications; that’s why you can’t sleep. You look very tired."

  "It must be the Greek air," Eva replied with a slight shrug.

  "Yes, people wanting to kill you wouldn’t be all that healthy."

  Eva shrugged a little at the true nature of the statement. "What are you doing in this backwater?"

  "I’m on the way back to Athens and decided to stop to see you."

  "Are you staying long?"

  "No, I’m leaving tonight because General Rhimes wants to be in Athens tomorrow," Frieda replied. "Did you get my letter?"

  "I did." Eva nodded. "It was such a blessing to get it."

  "I’m glad. I missed you so much." Frieda tenderly patted Eva on the cheek. "I have brought some presents for you."

  "You have?"

  "I went home with General Rhimes and whilst there, I dropped in to see your aunty Marlene."

  Eva’s smile widened at the mention of her adopted aunt. "How is she?"

  "Oh, she’s well. She’s missing you so much and wants to give you this." Frieda leaned over and tenderly kissed Eva on the cheek. "She also sent me some letters for you and a special letter from Willie."

  "Is he well? Is he home? Where is he stationed?"

  "Slow down." The nurse held up her hand and laughed lightly at Eva’s questioning. "He is well, he’s not home, and he was stationed in Italy but has moved out. I’m going to see if General Rhimes can find out and I’ll let you know."

  Eva’s face creased into a smile on hearing her friend’s name. "I miss him so much."

  "Marlene gave me some photographs and…" Frieda stopped and took a handkerchief out of her pocket. She laid the handkerchief in her lap and opened it up to reveal a silver ring and a gold cross. She looked up to see Eva’s eyes glisten, a smile creasing her face.

  Eva took the ring in the palm of her hand and gazed at it for a long moment. "My mother’s ring," she said in wonder and looked up at Frieda in amazement. "You brought it to me."

  "I did. Marlene wanted you to have it as well as your gold cross. You left that behind after your accident."

  Eva felt her stomach clench at the memory of how that gold cross had been ripped from her neck. The ornate silver ring in her hand was far more important to her than the memories. "Aunt Marlene had the ring?"

  "Yes, and she knew you would want it. Marlene wants you home to care for you but she knows your father wants you here."

  "I want to go home. Why can’t I go home, away from this war?"

  "I know you do, sweetheart. Your father’s wish is for you to be with him, and being on your own in Berlin in your condition is just not the sensible thing."

  "I wouldn’t in this condition if my father didn’t take me to Paris with him. I wouldn’t be in this condition if the French Resistance hadn’t bombed the house. I wouldn’t be on my own. There’s Aunty Marlene, my grandmother and Uncle Wilbur."

  "Your grandmother has gone to Bonn and Uncle Wilbur is trying to keep AEMullerStahl in business--"

  "But--"

  "We’ve had this discussion before, Eva. Your father wants you near him."

  "In this god forsaken little hellhole," Eva muttered.

  "Yes, in this godforsaken hellhole because he loves you and doesn’t want you to be alone."

  Eva shook her head. "I’m sure he does."

  "I know you think they don’t care, but they do. Let’s not go into this again."

  "No." Eva shook her head. "Are you sure you have to leave?"

  "Yes, I’m sure. Before I forget, I left instructions with your nurse--"

  "Nurse Gestapo," Eva said with a little more venom that she intended.

  "Nurse Gestapo?" Frieda laughed. "Your uncle has reviewed her recent notes about your progress. He wants you to walk--"

  "Does he know where I am?"

  "He does."

  "He knows that I’m in the middle of a war zone? In the middle of a shitty little town that just needs the opportunity to kill me?"

  "No one is going to kill you."

  "I’m in a war zone!"

  "I know you are, but you are a civilian."

  "Right." Eva nodded. "So all those people we saw lying dead in the fields as we were coming in were soldiers?"

  Frieda sighed heavily. "Darling, you must stop talking like this. It is talk that will get you killed, but not by the Greeks."

  "I know," Eva mumbled. "I’m more than likely to get shot by my own father."

  "Eva!"

  Eva merely stared at Frieda. "I can’t run anymore. You know how much I loved to run. I can’t even walk properly without looking like a demented cripple."

  "I know, but that’s in the past now. You have made a remarkable recovery from your injuries and you have to focus on the now. You can walk."

  "With the help of my cane."

  "You are not confined to a wheelchair like we thought you were going to be. Remember that? You can walk, and the more you walk, the faster your recovery will be. You were very lucky that bomb didn’t kill you."

  "Yes, very lucky," Eva muttered under her breath. "Will I run again?" She asked hopefully.

  "No, you won’t run again."

  "So what’s the point?"

  Frieda got up off the bed and took a couple of paces. "Why did you fight to live?"

  "I don’t think I had a choice."

  "Yes, you did. You chose to live rather than die. There is a reason you are still alive. One day you will find that reason."

  "I’m a cripple in a war zone."

  Frieda shook her head. "No, you are a young woman who has been recovering from your injuries after a bomb blast that almost killed you. Give yourself time to heal."

  "I have a lot of time to heal here."

  "Yes, you do, and you need to get out of this house. Your uncle wants you walking."

  "Great, let Uncle Dieter come over here and walk through this village," Eva replied sarcastically. "What does Uncle Dieter want me to do?"

  "He wants you to walk every day beyond this house."

  "Where to?"

  "I don’t know, Evy. I saw a church on the way here. Why don’t you make it a goal to walk a bit further from the house and eventually get to the church and back?"

  "Where is this church?"

  "There’re two," Frieda said with a slight smile. "There’s one near the center of the village and another just out of the town."

  "So I walk to the church."

  "Yes, and you go in, have a bit of rest, speak to God, speak to the priest or the nuns and then you come home."

  "Hm."

  "It will help."

  "Hm."

  "I’ll have a talk to your father about that when I go downstairs and also about hirin
g a maid to help you."

  "Good luck in finding one of those in this village. I think they would rather kill me than help me."

  "There you go again with the talk about killing you."

  Eva stared up at the ceiling in exasperation. "I know they want to. It’s not in my head. I can feel it."

  "You are far too pessimistic. It’s not that bad and you will have your guards with you."

  Eva shook her head. "To the church and back?"

  "Yes," Frieda replied with a triumphant smile. "It will help your back. If you can find a swimming pool--"

  "Frieda, this place is lucky to have running water."

  "Is there a river?"

  "There is, but I’m not swimming in it."

  "Alright, no swimming. You stick to the walking for now."

  "Can I have my letters?" Eva asked with a slight smile.

  "I have something else for you as well."

  "What’s that?"

  Frieda took out a small package from her pocket. "Uncle Wilbur said that--"

  "Chocolate!" Eva exclaimed as she ripped open the wrapped box.

  "Chocolate." Frieda laughed as she watched Eva’s face beam with delight. "I know your addiction."

  "Uncle Wilbur loves it too." Eva stuffed two squares of chocolate into her mouth and munched happily.

  "Amazing what a little drug can do," Frieda said and then laughed as Eva hugged the bar to her chest.

  Chapter Three

  Zoe sat outside the house on an upturned wooden crate and watched the soldiers coming and going from the house across the street. She had a white fabric in her hand, and as she embroidered a pattern, she would occasionally glance up at the soldiers and then back down to her handiwork. She had a great memory—she wasn’t sure how it worked, but she could recall everything she saw. She casually glanced down at the watch Stavros had given her.

  Zoe’s attention was drawn to several soldiers nearly falling over themselves at the entrance to the house. Moments later a tall figure emerged dressed in a black cloak with a hood to cover their head. Zoe scowled and looked up into the heavens. It was a warm, sunny day and there were no clouds in the sky to forecast a weather change, and it wasn’t cold either.

  "What an idiot," Zoe muttered. The tall figure talked with the guards for a few moments. It was when the cane was produced that Zoe stood up straighter. She had seen that cane before. Very slowly as to not arouse suspicions, she tapped the door behind her, where her cousin was sitting.