"I am doing my part. Now you have to do yours."
"I already am. You say that those who don’t believe there is a God are fools. You know, Father, I’m a fool. But I’m a fool who is going to do her part to save our country."
"Is that why you crossed yourself when you came in?"
Zoe didn’t answer for a moment. She fingered the gun in her hand. "I told you that’s a bad habit I picked up."
"Killing is not the answer," Father Haralambos said quietly as he watched Zoe.
"Yes, it is. Killing is the only answer."
"There must be an end to violence, and you shooting people won’t put an end to this war; it will prolong it."
"My only reason for living is to kill that damned bitch."
"Don’t swear in church," Father Haralambos gently admonished. "You can’t kill innocents."
"Innocent!" Zoe yelled. "That damned bitch isn’t innocent!"
"Zoe! Don’t swear in church."
"I can’t sit and watch. Someone has to pay. An eye for an eye, and I want to be the one to pay them back," Zoe said bitterly.
"It’s not for you to judge and not for you to be the executioner."
"Why not? Because you say so?"
"Don’t start killing." Father Haralambos took the gun from Zoe and pocketed it in his robes, much to Zoe’s disgust.
"You’re wrong, Father. I have killed and I’ll kill again. I’m following in the footsteps of Kolokotronis—he knew how to stand up to tyranny and he won. I’m going to stand up to tyranny."
"By killing an innocent woman? Is that how you are going to win this war?"
"That’s how I win my war. I’m fighting my own war and I’m going to win it," Zoe replied as she sat down on the floor and crossed her legs. "This is my war and there will only be one winner here."
"It won’t be you."
"What would you have me do? Lie down and let them do what they want?"
The church doors opened and a young man raced in. He knelt and crossed himself and then went hurriedly to the priest. "Father, Father!" The young man was breathless. He bent forward trying to catch his breath.
"Take it slowly, Phrixus."
"They are rounding up everyone and sending them to the town square! They posted an announcement that our brothers who were caught last night will be hanged! I was told to come here and tell you. Hurry, Father!"
"No! Do something!" Zoe got up from the floor and yelled at Father Haralambos.
"I can’t do anything, my child."
"Hurry up, Father, please! They want everyone to be there or else they will start shooting people."
The three of them hurried out into the busy street as the residents were herded towards the main town square. The German soldiers ringed the plaza and a scaffold stood in the center. The scaffold had become a permanent fixture in the plaza and was in constant use after every Resistance attack. The sounds of grieving and of babies crying could be heard over the murmur of the townspeople. Zoe looked around and froze when four soldiers passed by, flanking three shuffling men. She hardly recognized the prisoners—their faces were badly disfigured by bruises. Father Haralambos held Zoe in his arms as Stavros shuffled away from her. Stavros looked back and tried to smile at Zoe, but the attempt turned into a grimace.
The soldier coming up from the rear pushed Stavros along with the barrel of his weapon and he nearly fell into the mud. They slowly climbed onto the platform of the scaffold. The crowd fell silent; only the sounds of a dog barking and a child crying could be heard.
Major Muller walked through the crowd, his guards pushing people aside, and stood next to the scaffold. A guard held a black umbrella over him to keep him dry. Muller tapped his black boots in a small puddle, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked out into the crowd. "I see Father Haralambos is here. Father, would you give these men the last rites? I am a God fearing man and I think that would be fair," he said as he gazed at the falling rain.
His arm still around Zoe, Father Haralambos whispered in her ear. He looked around and spotted Despina and beckoned her to be with Zoe. Despina came up behind Zoe and embraced her as Father Haralambos went up the steps to the scaffold. He began to administer the last rites. All three men bowed their heads. The youngest began to cry as the priest made the sign of the cross on their foreheads.
"Be brave, my boys, and know we will continue the fight for you," Father Haralambos whispered to each man as he placed a kiss on his forehead.
"Hurry up, Father, I don’t have all day," Muller commanded. Father Haralambos shuffled and deliberately slowed as he descended the stairs and went and stood by Zoe and Despina. He held Zoe’s hand.
"This is a warning to any who wish to defy me." Muller raised his voice and lifted his arm, then dropped it. The executioner saw the hand signal and pulled the lever. The scaffold ropes creaked as the three men hung lifelessly in the plaza.
Zoe closed her eyes and began to cry, Father Haralambos holding her. A tiny voice was heard singing. It was soon joined by all those assembled in defiance of the Germans.
We knew thee of old,
Oh, divinely restored,
By the lights of thine eyes
And the light of thy Sword
Zoe looked up, her face tear-stained, and realized the villagers were singing the Ymnos eis tin Eleftherian, The Hymn to Freedom, the soul-inspiring national anthem of the Greeks, their only way to be defiant as the rain continued to pour. She looked up at her dead friends and began to sing.
From the graves of our slain
Shall thy valor prevail
As we greet thee again—
Hail, Liberty! Hail!
Long time didst thou dwell
Mid the peoples that mourn,
Awaiting some voice
That should bid thee return.
Ah, slow broke that day
And no man dared call,
For the shadow of tyranny
Lay over all.
The voices swelled as one while Muller looked on, his face set in a scowl. He turned to walk off, then stopped and faced Captain Reinhardt. "Leave them up there."
"Yes, sir!" Reinhardt saluted as the villagers continued to sing in open defiance.
And we saw thee sad-eyed,
The tears on thy cheeks
While thy raiment was dyed
In the blood of the Greeks.
Yet, behold now thy sons
With impetuous breath
Go forth to the fight
Seeking Freedom or Death.
From the graves of our slain
Shall thy valor prevail
As we greet thee again—
Hail, Liberty! Hail!
***
The breeze coming through the window caused the curtain to brush against Eva. The strains of the song washed over her as she leaned against the windowsill. She closed her eyes and prayed for the souls of the men who had been killed. Yet, even more bloodshed. Her tears ran down her cheeks for the men she never knew but whose pain she felt. She listened to the anthem being passionately sung by the defiant Greeks. While thy raiment was dyed in the blood of the Greeks.
Eva stared out into the rain. Seeking Freedom or Death… There is no other option, is there? Eva thought. Her musings were cut short by the noises downstairs of Muller returning from the plaza and yelling orders.
Chapter Ten
Six Months Later.
A rooster crowed as the sun made its slow progress to start the morning. Eva walked down the cobblestone streets, her cane echoing as it hit the ground. She was aware of the furtive glances and some openly hostile glares she was getting from the villagers. Most of them were used to seeing Eva, clad in her dark cloak and hood, her two very large shadows behind her. Henry was the taller of the two and he slowed his cadence to match Eva's slow walk. Next to him was Barkow, who stood at just over six feet but was dwarfed by his fellow soldier. With those two behind her, Eva felt somewhat protected. No one greeted her as she passed, not that she was expecti
ng them to, and some spat on the ground before she passed making sure she noticed. Nevertheless she was a common sight for those who woke up early to tend to their chores.
Eva stopped for a moment to catch her breath and smiled when she saw their housekeeper, Despina, walking towards her.
"Good morning, Kiria Despina," Eva greeted her in Greek, aware that the villagers closest to her could hear her. She used the respectful Greek phrase to denote the housekeeper was married. She made sure she was using the phrase correctly.
"Ah, Miss Eva. You know the church is just a few meters down there." Despina greeted Eva with a smile. She pulled her cardigan across her body as the wind picked up a little, bringing with it a blast of cool air. Despina was a plumb older woman in her mid-fifties, with salt and pepper hair worn up in a tight bun. Her brown eyes crinkled when she smiled at Eva.
"Today is the day," Eva replied happily.
"It is, it is. You should be very proud of yourself."
Eva nodded her appreciation at Despina’s words. She lowered her voice. "Is it difficult for you to be seen speaking to me?"
Despina shook her head. "No, sweetheart, it's not. You are not the enemy."
"Your fellow villagers don't seem to agree with you."
"Don't you have enough to deal with at home without worrying about me?" Despina asked as she touched Eva's hand. "Don't worry about me. Now, you have just a few meters down that way to get to the church."
"Thank you, you're very kind to me."
"You're a very kind and gentle young woman. It's not hard to be kind to you. Now once you have mastered the church, you can go all the way to Athena's Bluff."
"How far would it take me to get there?"
"It takes me half an hour at a slow pace."
"That's my next goal once I reach the church," Eva said and smiled when Despina took her hand.
"I'm quite sure you will be doing that soon. Now I have to get going to get these eggs back to the house and get breakfast ready."
Eva watched Despina walk away and sighed. "Sergeant Franz."
"Yes, Fraulein?"
"The church is just up the road there."
"Yes."
"I’m going inside once I get there."
"Alright. I haven't seen inside a Greek church—"
"No." Eva looked at Henry. "A German soldier inside a Greek church would anger many of the villagers; we don't need that happening. You and Barkow stay outside."
"Fraulein Muller, I must object—"
"Don't worry. Even the Communists, who don't believe in God, would never enter a church to kill."
"There's always a first time," Henry muttered under his breath, causing Eva to smile.
"You worry too much. If the Resistance wanted to kill me, they can easily do it here on the street," Eva replied and turned. She mentally sighed when she heard Henry’s aggrieved growl. "Your mere presence behind me is enough to scare Ares Velouchiotis," Eva added, regarding the Greek Resistance leader she had heard so much about.
"Velouchiotis is a coward."
"Let's hope you are right because I do not want to meet this fellow—a passionate Greek is always trouble," Eva said as Henry came up and walked next to her. "What are you doing?"
"We are coming up to where there are children playing. I do not want them to throw any stones at you," Henry replied. Barkow also took up his position on Eva's other side.
"I don't think the children will do anything."
"Other than call you names?" Henry muttered.
"Names can't hurt you."
Henry glanced down at his charge and shook his head. "Maybe I should put my helmet on your head?"
Eva lowered her head and concentrated on walking without falling over. "Yes, that would be a good look."
Henry glanced around and sighed as they walked past the children, who did indeed call out but they didn't throw anything.
Eva stopped when she turned the corner and the church stood before her. Its white facade was marred by bullet holes. The sky blue dome stood in contrast to the white with the white cross above it. Six stone steps led up to the ornate doors. Eva looked around but the street was empty.
"I'm going in."
"Fraulein—"
"Please, stay out here. I told you I don't want the Greeks to feel more aggrieved than they are. I doubt the priest is going to kill me either."
"Alright, but I will have to tell Captain Reinhardt."
"I already told him I was going to visit the church," Eva said before she turned and slowly walked up the steps. The two guards quickly walked up the steps behind her and took their place on either side of the door. Eva shook her head a little, and lowered the hood of her cloak as she entered the church.
The light from the lit candles cast off a warm glow to the outer sanctuary of the church. Eva was surprised to see the seating wasn't regular pews as she was used to, but chairs. The floor was a polished marble all the way to the altar. The walls featured the saints and Mary, Mother of God, featured prominently. Above the stone altar was the Crucified Christ. Eva bowed her head and crossed herself as she approached the altar.
Eva sat down at the closest chair to the front. She rested her hand over the cane's handle and looked up at Christ's icon. A door opened next to the altar and she saw a man come out. Clad in a black cassock with a gold crucifix around his neck, his long beard and pillbox hat made it quite obvious who he was.
"Good morning, Father." Eva stood up and approached the priest.
"Good morning, my child," Father Haralambos replied without any noticeable surprise on his face that Eva was speaking to him in Greek. Eva bowed slightly and took his hand. She kissed it as was customary for the villagers on greeting their priest.
"Ach, you shouldn’t bend down like that with your bad back," Father Haralambos gently said. He led Eva back to the chairs.
"What do you know about my back?"
Father Haralambos' blue eyes gentled as he gazed at Eva. "A priest hears stories."
"Ah, yes, I almost forgot—‘the German cripple.’"
"I have heard that, and I have watched you take your early morning walk. It’s not an easy walk for you but you have managed quite well. Are you happy with your progress?"
"I’m a little proud of myself this morning," Eva admitted. "I think most of the village knows about me at this point," she said to Father Haralambos, who had taken off his hat. His black hair had slivers of white throughout and he had tied it back in a ponytail. "You're not surprised I can speak Greek."
"Not really. Kiria Despina has told me you speak Greek. She has very nice things to say about you." Father Haralambos smiled. "Would you feel more comfortable if I spoke German?" He added in German, which made Eva's eyes widen in surprise.
"You speak German?"
"I do. I can also speak Italian and French. I love languages."
"That is so surprising."
Father Haralambos chuckled as he clasped his hands. "Yes, you don't expect that from a village priest."
"No, I didn’t expect it."
"Most people don’t, so that’s alright."
"Father, what's your name?"
"Father Panayiotis Haralambos. I have the right first name for a priest, no?" He smiled at Eva, who gazed at him quizzically. "Panayios means Holy. I know your name and what it means. It's Hebrew for life and the first woman Almighty God created."
"I saw you when we first arrived."
"Hm, as did I. It was a horrible way to arrive into a town, especially for you."
"Father, do you listen to confessions?" Eva asked quietly, ignoring Father Haralambos’ recollections of the blood bath that followed her arrival. She looked around at the icons on the wall. "You must have seen a lot of death since the war started," she said, and turned to Father Haralambos to see his eyes glisten in the candlelight.
"I have seen a lot of death, yes. I listen to anyone who wishes to confess, Fraulein Muller."
"Please, call me Eva. I feel like I can talk to you almost like
I’ve known you my whole life."
"Why do you say that? We’ve just met."
"I just feel it. I trust you."
Father Haralambos smiled. "Trust is earned, Eva, but I’m happy that you can confide in me."
"Can we talk here?"
Father Haralambos looked around the empty room. "You can. Sister Maria is not due to start her scripture class for another hour or so."
Eva stared up at the crucifix for a long moment before she turned her attention to Father Haralambos. Their blue eyes met and Eva looked down at her hands. After a few minutes she looked up again. "Father, are you in the Resistance?"
Father Haralambos gazed at Eva for a long moment. His face revealed nothing and Eva was worried she had just made a terrible mistake.
"Are you confessing to me or am I confessing to you?"
"A little of both."
"Ah. Why don't you tell me your confession?"
Eva nodded. "When I was in France, I had the opportunity to help Father François in Paris," she whispered and looked around the church hoping her guards had listened to her and stayed outside.
"Where are the two young men who shadow you?"
"Outside. I hope."
"Hm. You helped Father François, and what did you do to help him?"
"I forged my father's signature on identity papers," Eva replied softly. "I'm a very good forger."
"I see. How did it come about that you were helping Father François?"
Eva gazed at Father Haralambos, the edges of her mouth slightly curled before she looked away. "He was helping Jews escape."
"That is a very noble effort; the work of angels. Is there a need to confess such a good deed to me? I would think that it was a good thing what you did to help others."
Eva looked back at Father Haralambos, who was looking at her with a noncommittal gaze. "You do know what I just confessed to you, right?"
"Yes, I am aware that you just told me that you collaborated with the French Resistance. I'm not going to tell you that you are wrong, because it’s not wrong what you did."
"No, I don't feel bad about that."
"You do know what the confessional is used for?" Father Haralambos sincerely asked and smiled when Eva sighed and looked up at the ornate ceiling.
In The Blood Of The Greeks (Intertwined Souls Series Book 1) Page 8
