"If I was useful, why didn’t I help Stavros or Kiriakos or Antonios? How useful was I to Giorgos or to the others who have died?" Zoe turned and looked at Father Haralambos, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"You can’t stop the war by yourself, my child. It’s going to take the might of the Allied powers to deliver the deathblow to the Nazis. Just as a hand needs the rest of the body to accomplish its desired action, so do we. We need the Allies to help us to defeat them. You are useful."
"How? I haven’t done anything, apart from a lot of crying and watching my friends die."
"You were very brave. Brave enough to have witnessed the death of your friends so they left this earth knowing their lives were not in vain. And you are here for moral support to your friends who still live. It takes a lot of courage to continue when death is all around you. Don’t cry for the dead, for they are with our Lord in Heaven. Cry for the living who need your help. Remember the job I recommended you for?"
"Yes, how can I forget that?" retorted Zoe sarcastically.
"Why do you think I recommended you to Eva?"
"Because I can clean and cook?" Zoe replied bitterly.
"Indeed you can, but Eva is going to need someone to help her to get us any information she comes across that would be useful in our struggle. She has noticed that her nurse and her father have been watching her closely, so she might want you to deliver the information. So, what do you say?"
"I won’t kowtow to the Germans. I don’t care if one of them is your daughter!"
"It doesn’t matter that she’s my daughter. What matters is that we need you. You need to put aside your anger and understand that you will be doing your comrades a service and possibly saving lives as well. Can you see how you are needed here?"
"Yes."
"Killing Eva would only have caused more deaths to our brothers."
Zoe shivered as the darkest memory of her life once again made its way to the surface to torment her, a torment so painful that she was not even aware of the tears silently rolling down her cheeks. Nor did she feel the embrace of Father Haralambos as he tried to comfort her. Zoe was completely absorbed in her torment and in her memories.
"It’s going to be alright, Zoe. We have lost too many loved ones, I know, my child. We can grieve for them, but they are in a better place."
Zoe wiped away the tears and accepted the handkerchief Father Haralambos had handed to her. She nodded her thanks and sighed. "Remember that day my mama died?"
Father Haralambos nodded.
"My belief in God died with her," Zoe whispered.
"I know, my child, I know."
Zoe sighed again loudly. "What do I need to do?"
"Eva is expecting you, so I suggest you go and get cleaned up and report to Kiria Despina." Father Haralambos stood up and wiped a tear from Zoe’s cheek. With a twinkle in his eye he chuckled. "And try to be meek and humble when you are talking to Major Muller."
Zoe glanced up at a drawing on the wall. It had a shaft of light descending from above, illuminating the figure of Daniel in the cave with lions around him. "Well, I think I’m about to learn what Daniel felt like. Although those animals were tame compared to Major Muller."
"You have a guardian angel like Daniel did."
"Well, if I do, then I need to report him for not being on the job," Zoe replied as she continued to look at the painting.
"Would you like to pray with me? I know you don’t believe in our Lord, but I do, and I would want you near me as I ask for His help," Father Haralambos said, taking her hand.
Zoe nodded. "All right, Father, but I have to warn you, once our job is done, I’m going to kill the b—erm—I’m going to kill your daughter."
"I know you will."
"Right. You do know that when I say I’m going to do something, I do it."
"I know that."
"Good. Now let’s get on with the prayer so I can go over to Satan’s lair."
As they knelt, Father Haralambos put his arm around Zoe. They bowed their heads and he offered a prayer.
Chapter Fifteen
Zoe straightened her shirt one more time and then rounded the corner. As she spotted the major’s residence, she wiped her sweaty palms along her skirt. The house was hard to miss; it was the largest estate in Larissa. It used to belong to the Faksomoulos family, who had owned property from Athens to Thessaloniki before the war with the Italians. Danalos Faksomoulos saw the coming troubles and packed up his family and fled. Zoe had thought him a coward and it was fitting his estate would be occupied by similar cowards and murderers. There were two properties—the larger house where Major Muller made his base, and the small house, once used as a guest house, where Zoe knew that Eva Muller was located. For as long as Zoe could remember, the guest house was always called ‘the small house’ but it was a misnomer. The ‘small house’ was larger than two normal village properties.
A small stone fence separated the property from the street. Standing on guard next to the front gate were two soldiers. Zoe scowled as she approached the gate, and to her surprise, the guard nearest the gate latch opened it and let her in.
Zoe walked through and proceeded to walk up the driveway. She stopped momentarily and looked back at the guards. With a slight shake of her head, she resumed her journey.
Slowly, Zoe made her way up the stone steps where two other soldiers stood guard before the entrance. Above them the Nazi flag hung limply in the drizzling rain. One of the soldiers brandished his gun and pointed it at her. She stopped when she was about to take the final step to the landing. She looked up at the sky. Now would be a good time to show up, guardian angel.
Zoe was prepared for a long drawn out argument but instead the door opened and the soldier she recognized as being one of Eva’s bodyguards stepped out. She inwardly groaned on seeing Henry. The extremely tall, bald man with piercing green eyes crooked his finger at her to follow him.
"I listen and obey," Zoe muttered in Greek as she stepped through the threshold. The house didn’t look any different, other than the swastika which adorned the main entrance, from what it had been when she had visited the house as a young child. She was expecting more guards than the two outside and the two inside, but was very surprised not to see any others.
Henry stopped suddenly, causing Zoe to nearly crash into his broad back. He turned around and faced Zoe.
"If you throw as much as a rumpled piece of paper at Fraulein Muller, I will kill you."
Zoe looked at Henry’s face. "How long did you practice that, Goliath?"
"I mean it."
"Yes, I know," Zoe patted henry on the hand, surprising both herself and him. "I’ve watched you walk next to her for months."
"That was a lucky throw."
"You should have given her a helmet."
"I should have shot you," Henry growled back. He opened the door to an office downstairs and indicated for Zoe to walk through.
Zoe entered the room, which looked quite sparse—a desk sat in the middle with a solitary lamp on the left hand side. That was it. There was nothing personal about it to indicate its owner and the room was devoid of anything to suggest someone actually occupied it.
"What’s this?"
"This is Captain Reinhardt’s office."
Zoe studied the room again and slowly shook her head. "It’s cold. There’s nothing to say who it belongs to. He doesn’t even have a piece of paper on his desk." She bent her knees slightly and tilted her head to the side to inspect the desk surface. "It’s also dusty."
Henry sighed as he looked at the ceiling. "Do you always talk so much?"
"No, not always. When I’m throwing rocks, I am very quiet." Zoe smiled when Henry gave her a disgusted look.
"I don’t know why they are hiring you. You are a menace."
"You’re worried I’ll want to kill her."
"No, I’m not worried."
"Really?"
Henry stared at Zoe. "You won’t get another chance. I will kill you
first."
"How old are you?" Zoe asked expectantly.
"Why?"
"I want to know."
"You’re very strange."
"No, I’m just bored," Zoe replied and inspected the room to find a spot to sit down. There weren’t any chairs other than the one behind the desk. "Where is your master?"
"He is busy--"
"Killing people."
"Stop that," Henry admonished and lowered his voice. He glanced behind him at the open door before he turned to a very bemused looking Zoe. "You want to help Fraulein Muller, don’t you?"
Zoe gazed up at Henry and looked behind her for a moment before she turned her attention to him. "I am Frau Muller’s maid."
"Fraulein Muller," Henry corrected.
"Evil bitch from Berlin, yes, that one."
"Stop that!"
Zoe grinned. "You like her."
"Stop talking."
Zoe observed Henry. His green eyes narrowed as she gazed at his face. He avoided her for a few moments but then lost that war with himself.
"What?" Henry asked finally.
Zoe’s response was cut short when Captain Reinhardt entered the room and took a seat behind the desk.
"I’m Captain Reinhardt," Reinhardt introduced himself in German and glanced briefly at the piece of paper in front of him. "You are Zoe Lambris?" He asked in Greek, taking Zoe by surprise.
"Lambros." Zoe scowled at the very obvious mistake in her name.
"Zoe Lambros," Reinhardt repeated and sat back in his chair. "Are you a good maid?"
"No. I’ve never been a maid before."
Reinhardt looked up with a slight smile. "I’m quite sure you will learn very quickly. Where are your belongings?"
"My what?"
"Your suitcase."
"Why?"
"You are moving in. Didn’t Kiria Despina tell you?"
Zoe glanced at Reinhardt with a very confused look on her face. "I live right across the street."
"Yes, I know you do, but you will move into this house."
"Like hell I will," Zoe muttered and glared at Reinhardt. "I’m a maid, not a servant."
"That’s the same thing," Henry muttered under his breath just barely audible for Zoe to hear. He tried to hide a smirk when Zoe glared at him.
"Fraulein Lambros," Reinhardt said reverting to German. "You are moving into the top floor of this house to be with Fraulein Muller. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
"Can you read and write?"
Zoe glanced at Henry, who was standing to attention and deliberately not looking in her direction. She turned back to Reinhardt. "Yes, can you?"
Reinhardt burst out laughing. "You are very funny. I like you. Sergeant Franz, take Fraulein Lambros to Fraulein Muller."
Zoe glanced back at Reinhardt, who was still chuckling as she left the room. They turned the corner and found the stairs.
***
Eva sat at her desk, her long, raven hair falling across her face as she looked at the photo she held in her hands. The smiling face of a young girl, her arms around an older woman, looked back at her. Eva remembered, so vividly, the day that photo was taken. She had been excited to join the Bund Deutscher Madel, the League of German Girls from fourteen to eighteen years of age. She raced home to tell her beloved mother how she and her friend Greta had signed up.
They found out they were going to parade in front of their leader and the following months saw them practicing how to march in formation. The night before the big day, Greta had stayed over and neither of them had slept. The following morning, thousands of Hitler Youth paraded before the Führer.
Eva closed her eyes and could still see the stands at Nuremberg, the banners flying in the breeze. Adolf Hitler stood at the podium, waved at them and said, "You, my youth, are our nation’s most precious guarantee of a great future and you are destined to be the leaders of a glorious new order under the supremacy of National Socialism. Never forget that one day you will rule the world!"
The cheers had reverberated from the stands as thousands of young voices were raised in enthusiastic response. And then Kristallnacht happened.
Eva shook her head at the memory and sighed. "Oh, Mutti, you would have been so ashamed of me," she whispered to the woman in the picture as she brushed away tears. She put the photo aside and went back to the letter in front of her. A photograph of a young soldier lay on the side. She picked it up and gazed into the young man’s earnest face.
She looked up at the sound of knocking, and quickly composed herself. "Enter."
The door opened and Henry entered. Behind him came Zoe, clutching her bag. "Fraulein Muller--"
"Just a moment," Eva said not bothering to spare more than a glance at Zoe. She finished writing the letter and put her pen aside. She stood and walked around the desk and sat on the edge of it while she watched Zoe look around the room.
"You can go, Franz."
"Fraulein--"
"Franz, you can go. She won’t attack me."
Henry scowled and held his ground for a moment before he turned and walked out. He closed the door behind him.
***
"So, this is how our slave masters live," Zoe stated flatly as she looked around the well-furnished room. She smiled grimly when she caught sight of a painting she recognized well.
"My mother painted that," Zoe said proudly. It had been the last painting Helena had sold before her death.
"She was very talented," Eva replied and glanced at the painting of the countryside.
"She was," Zoe whispered, cleared her throat, and then continued to look around the room. A desk was positioned near the window and a light breeze blew the curtain over the chair.
Zoe looked up at a photograph on the nearby wall and peered at it. She recognized Eva quickly as the gangly teenager with her dark hair in a ponytail who was taller than the man and woman standing on either side of her. The man wore a black hat which contrasted with his silver hair. A salt and pepper moustache gave him a comical look. He wore a dark suit and had his overcoat folded across one arm while the other was wrapped around Eva. The older woman wasn’t looking at the camera but smiling proudly at Eva, who had a medal hanging around her neck.
Still looking at the woman, Zoe realized she had never seen anyone wear so much jewelry in her life. She leaned in and scrutinized the pearls that were around the woman’s neck. A peacock pendant also caught Zoe’s eye.
"Find anything interesting?"
Zoe jumped a little at the nearness of Eva’s voice and she glanced back at Eva, who hovered nearby.
"That’s you?"
"Yes."
"What’s the medal for?"
Eva let a crooked smile grace her features for a moment. "Running."
Zoe glanced back. "Hmm," was all she said, and turned back to the photograph. She stared at it for a long time. There was something about the man that reminded her of someone, but she wasn’t sure who or why. "Who are these people?"
"You ask a lot of questions."
"Are you going to tell me?"
"Do I have to?" Eva responded, her tone a little irritated by Zoe’s inquisitive nature. "They are my grandparents."
"Your grandfather has gentle eyes," Zoe said, still gazing at the photograph. "Is he a Nazi?" She smiled when she heard Eva’s sigh behind her. She had to work with her, but Father Haralambos didn’t say she had to "behave" the entire time. Annoying Eva Muller was going to be fun, making her time more enjoyable.
"No, he was not a Nazi."
"He looks like one except for his eyes." Zoe cocked her head to the right and continued to gaze at the photograph.
"Can you stop looking at the photograph like you’re going to find the meaning of life behind it?"
"Is it bothering you?"
"No, it’s not, but I find it strange that you would look at it for so long."
"What are their names?"
"None of you
r business."
"Does he answer to Herr None of Your Business?" Zoe quipped, getting a very irate look in return.
"No, his name was Alexander Muller, and before you ask, he passed away when I was fifteen years old."
"I’m sorry for your loss." Zoe abruptly ceased her teasing and noticed a flicker of uncertainty cross Eva’s face. "Is your grandmother still alive?"
"She is, I think?"
"You think?"
"Can you stop interrogating me?"
"How else will I get to know you while I’m working with you?"
"You’re working for me."
"No." Zoe shook her head. "You are deluded. I’m working with you. Remember, this maid business is all pretense."
"No, it’s not. I do really need a maid."
"Oh, wonderful!" Zoe rolled her eyes. "Why do you need a real maid for?"
"To be a maid, silly," Eva replied. "You do know what a maid does, don’t you?"
"Do I look like I’m the village idiot?" Zoe scowled.
"No, you don’t."
"I know how to sew, how to clean, how to cook. My mama taught me how to be a good wife some day. Do you know how to do all those things?"
Eva shook her head. "No, none of those."
"Thought so." Zoe made a snorting noise and turned back to the photograph. "Your mama had a maid to do all those things for you?" She asked sarcastically.
"Actually, yes, she did." Eva was smiling when Zoe turned in surprise. "I’m not going to apologize for that."
"You better marry someone rich or else you will be doing the cleaning, the washing, and the cooking."
"If I need marriage advice, I’ll call you."
"You could always hire me as your maid," Zoe quipped, then chuckled at her own joke. She turned away and finally stopped staring at the photograph and focused her attention on the artwork nearby. It was one of her favorites, Bartolomé Esteban Murillo’s The Beggar Boy. She studied it for a long moment.
"You like that?" Eva asked. "Bart--"
"Bartolomé Esteban Murillo." Zoe finished the artist’s name and looked back. She gave Eva a knowing smile. "My mother was an artist, remember?" Her eyes went to her mother’s artwork before returning to the piece in front of her. "This was one of her favorite pieces."
In The Blood Of The Greeks (Intertwined Souls Series Book 1) Page 12
