Hearts of Stone

by Scarrow, Simon

  ‘They were hiding in the latrine trench. They surrendered to me as soon as I pointed my gun at them.’

  The other men surrounded the prisoners and jeered, prodding them with the muzzles of their weapons, and some kicked and spat at them.

  ‘We can’t take prisoners,’ Michaelis said firmly and then called out loudly so that all his men would hear him clearly. ‘No prisoners.’

  The voices of his men died away and Michaelis turned to the young man who had captured the Italians. ‘Step away from them. Do as I say.’

  The andarte stood his ground for a moment then withdrew a few paces and the Italians were left standing slightly apart from the group. Michaelis strode up behind them and kicked each man in the back of the knees to force them to drop down. One of the Italians instantly began to speak quickly in a pleading tone. Andreas heard the sharp snap as Michaelis loaded a fresh magazine into his Sten.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘We can’t take prisoners,’ Michaelis repeated. ‘We can’t keep them in the cave watching them to make sure they don’t escape. Or worse, not being able to rest without worrying they’ll get hold of a weapon and kill us while we sleep. Besides, they’ll be extra mouths to feed.’

  He cocked the weapon and raised the muzzle to the back of the first prisoner’s head.

  ‘Wait!’ Andreas intervened and stepped in between them. ‘You can’t just shoot these men.’

  ‘Why not? Do you think they’d be any more merciful if we surrendered to them? Now get out of my way.’

  ‘Let them go.’

  Michaelis stared at him. ‘Are you mad? They’re the enemy.’

  ‘They are prisoners of war. You shoot them now and you can guarantee the Italians will take reprisals. It’s safer to let them go.’

  ‘We could stand here arguing about it but your charges are set to go off.’

  ‘Just let them go. It’s the best thing to do,’ Andreas urged.

  Michaelis lowered his Sten and spoke quietly. ‘All right. You men, get off the hill and head back to the cave. Go!’

  They began to file off into the darkness. Michaelis turned away from the men kneeling on the ground and gestured to Andreas to follow the others. He had not gone more than a few paces before he heard the snap of the Sten’s bolt and a distinctive hiss and stopped abruptly to look back. He saw the first prisoner’s dark shape face down on the ground just as Michaelis shot the second man in the back of the head. Before Andreas could speak, the third man had been executed. Michaelis calmly stepped over the bodies and set off after his men. He thrust Andreas before him and they hurried away, across the crest and down the slope. As they passed through the trees Andreas fell into step beside the kapetan.

  ‘Why?’ he demanded.

  ‘Told you. No prisoners.’

  ‘The Italians will find them and know what you did.’

  ‘Let them! Once word gets round, every fascist outpost on the island is going to know what we do with prisoners. It’ll scare the bastards witless.’

  ‘And they’ll take it out on our people. Our people, Michaelis. They will pay with their blood.’

  The andarte leader shrugged. ‘War is a pitiless business, my friend. The sooner everyone on this island learns it the better.’

  Behind them there was a brilliant glare and a moment later they heard the boom of the first explosion. The andartes stopped to look back and saw the ball of fire boiling up from the crest. A second explosion erupted with a huge flash that made the men wince before the roar hit them. Andreas realised it was the first ammunition store going up. The blast fed more explosions in the ammunition, splitting the night with flashes and thunderclap detonations. By the time they reached the track leading up towards the mountain valley the last of the charges had blasted the remaining anti-aircraft gun to pieces and the crest of the hill was ablaze with burning debris, dry grass and undergrowth. Beyond, in the direction of Nidhri, they could see the headlights of several vehicles bobbing along the track leading towards the battery, too late to save it or pursue the men who had carried out the attack.

  Michaelis paused and raised his Sten into the air. ‘Now they’ll know what happens to those who sully Greek soil with their jackboots! They will fear us! Our names will be on the lips of all those who hate the enemy and love the motherland!’

  He let out a loud cheer and his men joined in. Only Andreas remained silent as he gazed back at the hellish fires burning on the hilltop, the glow of the flames picking out the bodies scattered amongst the tents. This was the first major attack carried out by the andartes since the island had been occupied. And the bloodiest. And there would be a reckoning.

  The mood amongst the kapetans gathered outside the shepherd’s hut close to the summit of Pirghos was sullen and they regarded Michaelis with barely guarded hostility. The day after the attack on the anti-aircraft battery the Italian commander had issued a proclamation demanding the surrender of the criminals responsible for the attack and the murder of fifteen Italian soldiers, some of whom had been executed after they had been taken prisoner. If the perpetrators were not in police custody within twenty-four hours then fifteen men taken from the population of Lefkada would be shot. The deed had been carried out the following morning. The fifteen, taken at random off the streets of the town, were marched to the prefecture, placed against the wall of the building and killed by firing squad. Word of the massacre had reached all corners of the island and the leaders of the resistance bands were open in their anger at Michaelis.

  ‘Your recklessness threatens us all, Michaelis,’ a wizened, white-bearded kapetan from Lazarata said. ‘In these times of hunger, your actions have stolen food from our meagre plates!’

  Others grumbled their support for his protest and scowled at Michaelis. Andreas, Eleni and a handful of his men were sitting amongst the wider audience, looking on. Michaelis paced into the centre of the open ground and raised his hands to silence the gathering.

  ‘Times have changed. Our nation is at war. We are at war. Just as our brothers fought the Italians on the Albanian front, so it is now our duty to fight them here on our home soil! Every town, every village, every house is the front line in our war against the enemy. There are no civilians any more. Just good Greeks, and bad Greeks. The good will fight. The bad will play the coward or, worse, the traitor. The enemy have proved themselves to be base criminals in the way they murdered our fellow countrymen. Will you allow such an outrage to go unpunished? If you are real patriots then you must accept that there will be casualties. All that remains is to understand that and fight!’

  The older kapetan stood up and stabbed a finger at Michaelis. ‘How can we fight without more guns? You would have us attack the enemy with knives and clubs? Pah!’

  ‘But I have plenty of guns, Petros, my friend.’ Michaelis smiled. ‘More than enough to equip my band and a few more besides. And there will be more when our British allies hear of our success and send more planes loaded with weapons to Lefkada.’ He turned and pointed to Andreas. ‘Is this not so? You, Mahos, have come from Egypt at the behest of the British. Tell them that the British have plenty of guns and explosives to send us.’

  All eyes turned to Andreas and he stood up and nodded. ‘Our allies wish to help us in any way that they can.’

  ‘Like they did when the Nazis came?’ a voice cried out and others added shouts of anger.

  ‘It is true that they failed us then,’ Andreas admitted. ‘But they stand with us now.’

  ‘See!’ Michaelis nodded. ‘They will provide me with all the weapons we need. Weapons I will share with all of you . . . provided that you accept me as first among kapetans. Do that, and you shall have new weapons, better guns than ever before. Then we can make them fear us, and I will lead you in the fight against the fascists. Lead you to victory!’

  ‘But only if we accept you as leader . . .’ Petros responded with a cynical smile. ‘It seems to me we lost one tyrant in Metaxas only to find another in you, young Michaelis.’

/>   ‘Think what you like. You communists are always complaining but if you want guns then you know where to come for them, and the price you must pay.’

  ‘This is wrong,’ Andreas muttered. ‘Michaelis cannot be allowed to get away with this . . .’ He made to stand up but Eleni hung on his arm and pulled him down.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘The guns were intended for all the andartes, not just Michaelis. They need to know.’

  She looked at him with concern. ‘Be careful. If you confront him, you will make an enemy of him. That would be dangerous.’

  Andreas nodded. ‘I know. But I cannot allow him to put himself before the rest of his countrymen.’

  He took a deep breath, rose to his feet and stepped forward into the open space beside Michaelis.

  ‘As Michaelis says, I was sent here by the British to help the andartes. But before I was their agent I was from this island. Lefkas is my home, so I speak as one of you and you can trust me when I say that my heart is in our fight against the fascists. I must tell you that our allies want to assist every resistance group on Lefkas. I was sent to help you work together, not to serve Michaelis alone. And the weapons were sent for all of you to share. Not just for Michaelis. He should share what he has, and what will come.’

  Michaelis rounded on him angrily. ‘The weapons are mine! It was my men who took the risk of retrieving them! We have looked after them, and we’ve put them to good use. Who else would have dared to attack the Italian battery? Not the rest of these bands. They need to be led by a man who knows his duty.’

  ‘And look where it got us!’ Another kapetan stood up. ‘Fifteen of our men shot in cold blood.’

  ‘They will be avenged!’ Michaelis shouted back. ‘We will kill ten Italians for every one of ours they execute.’

  ‘Then they will do the same to us. And when they have run out of men, they’ll start shooting our women and children! Because of you. You have brought this on us, and now, in order to defend ourselves, you want us to go on bended knee to you? Pah!’

  ‘The weapons will be shared,’ Andreas declared. ‘As will all new supplies. You have my word on it.’

  ‘No!’ Michaelis confronted him, thrusting his face forward so that it was close to Andreas’s and he could smell the sharp tang of raki on the kapetan’s sour breath. ‘I decide what happens to my guns. I lead my band. You don’t give the orders. Any man who tries to challenge my authority must pay the price . . .’

  ‘He’s got a knife!’ Eleni cried out.

  Andreas heard her and backed away quickly as the blade flashed forward, the point tearing through a fold in his sheepskin jerkin. Eleni’s warning was echoed by others and the gathering scrambled back to get away from the two men. Michaelis stabbed again and again, but Andreas avoided the blows and backed off as he snatched out his knife and went into a crouch three paces away from the kapetan. Both men eyed the other warily as some of Michaelis’s band cheered their leader on. The rest of the crowd watched in silence. Eleni clasped her hands together anxiously.

  ‘Stop it! Stop!’ she cried.

  She stepped forward warily, to one side, not daring to come between the two men as she continued to plead.

  ‘Michaelis, Mahos, what are you doing? Your enemies are down there in Lefkada, not here amongst your people. Put the knives down!’

  Michaelis gritted his teeth and growled, ‘Keep out of the way, girl. I wouldn’t want to have to hurt you too.’

  ‘Go!’ Andreas commanded. ‘Stay clear.’

  He moved round so that he stood between her and Michaelis.

  ‘Stop . . .’ she said desperately. ‘For the love of God.’

  Michaelis lurched forward again, feinting to the right and then the left to test his opponent’s reactions, but Andreas had been taught by an SOE instructor who had spent much of his career amongst the criminal gangs of Shanghai and knew how to spot a feint from a real strike. Coolly keeping his blade up, Andreas weighed up the other man. Michaelis was well-built, strong, and moved quickly on his feet, but he lacked the swift ruthlessness that was necessary if a man was to stand a good chance of coming out of a knife fight alive. Tightening his grip on the handle of his dagger, Andreas moved forward.

  ‘Throw down your knife, Michaelis. Do it now and you will live. I will take command of the band, but you will live. Drop it.’

  ‘What?’ Michaelis sneered and then his teeth bared. ‘Fuck you . . .’

  With a snarl he came forward again, slashing with his blade to force Andreas back. Instead he stood his ground and recoiled just enough to stay out of the way of the kapetan’s strike. Then he snatched at Michaelis’s wrist with his spare hand and locked his fingers tightly, yanking his opponent forward and twisting as he struck with his right, stabbing into Michaelis’s midriff. He wrenched the blade back as the other man let out a winded groan, and stabbed again with all his strength, and again and again, still keeping his left hand tightly about Michaelis’s wrist. Those surrounding the fight looked on in silence and the cries of the men who had been supporting their leader died away as he staggered under the vicious assault.

  Andreas felt blood spatter his face and he heard the wheezing breath of Michaelis as he struggled to remain on his feet. Tearing his blade free, Andreas kicked the other man to the ground and released his grip on the wrist only to stamp his boot down, forcing Michaelis to let go of his knife. Andreas kicked the blade away and stepped back, breathing hard. He was still half in a crouch, eyes glaring, bloodied blade clenched in his fist and blood spattered across his sheepskin jerkin and face. Michaelis rolled on to his side, mouth open in a pained gasp as he clamped his hands over the wounds, but the blood still oozed over his fingers and stained the stone and dry soil beneath him as he steadily bled to death.

  ‘Mahos . . .’

  Andreas straightened up and turned to see Eleni staring at him, her expression fearful.

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  He shook his head, went to wipe his blade on Michaelis, and thought better of it, using the dark material of his breeches instead before he sheathed his dagger. Eleni knelt beside Michaelis and placed her hands on his bristled cheeks.

  ‘Michaelis?’

  His eyes opened and rolled before they settled on her. His lips parted in a thin smile and he whispered her name, then his eyelids fluttered and closed again and his breath came in light, ragged gasps, growing steadily weaker. Until, at length, he lay silent and still. Eleni gently set his head down and stood up.

  ‘Did you have to kill him?’

  ‘He would have killed me. You know that.’

  She could not deny it. Eleni had come to know Michaelis well enough to recognise the lengths to which he would go in pursuit of his aims, and well enough to fear him a little because of it, especially as he had hardly made a secret of his feelings for her.

  Andreas looked round, uncertain of the others’ reaction to the death of Michaelis. The kapetans and their followers simply stared, waiting for a cue, as were the men from his band, aghast at the fall of their leader. Andreas licked his dry lips and waited for his breathing to slow before he addressed them. He was shocked at the situation and briefly wondered how Colonel Huntley would react to the news that he had killed Michaelis. It was possible that the British would be wary of sending more support to the andartes if they thought that the Greeks were turning on each other. There was only one way forward for him now. His mission had changed. He must assume command of Michaelis’s band and use his authority to try and unite the kapetans.

  ‘I shall take the place of Michaelis . . . Does any man challenge my right to do so?’ He glared round defiantly, pausing as he looked at Yannis and the other men from the cave. ‘Well?’

  No one spoke. Eventually Andreas nodded. ‘Then I am the kapetan. Good. My first decision is that the weapons we have will be shared with the other bands. Send men and mules to the Church of Sotiras in two days’ time, at dusk. There you will be given guns and ammunition. And there will be more
after the next drop, and all that follow.’ He paused and directed his gaze at the the two men who had confronted Michaelis. ‘What Michaelis has done cannot be changed. Blood has been split and there is no going back. But I will do all I can to ensure that no harm comes to those who do not choose to fight the enemy. We cannot prevent their barbarism, but we can make them pay dearly for it. I swear, by Holy God, that I will not leave the fight until either the enemy are driven from our Lefkas or I am killed.’

  Eleni winced but then forced herself to look up with a determined expression and nod her support.

  ‘Then the gathering is over,’ Andreas announced. ‘You know my purpose, and my promise. It is your choice whether you take the guns and fight with me, or fight the enemy on your own. Two days’ time then, at the Church of Sotiras!’

  He turned away and paced towards the small group of men he had accompanied to the meeting place. Eleni followed, at his shoulder. They regarded him with fear and some hostility. ‘You accept my leadership?’ he challenged.

  Yannis shuffled uneasily but dared not meet his eye. The others did not answer and Andreas took a step forward and glared at them. ‘Answer me! Do you accept? Yannis? What do you say?’

  The andarte looked at him and nodded slowly.

  ‘Say it.’

  Yannis swallowed and spoke clearly. ‘I accept it, Uncle.’

  Andreas felt an urge to smile at the familiar term of respect, especially when it was offered by a man many years older than him. He looked round at the rest of the men. Grudgingly they followed suit.

  ‘I would not have had it this way,’ Andreas said. ‘But you all saw what happened. Michaelis drew a knife on me without warning. When a man does that, there will always be blood spilt. He is the one responsible for his death. Now I am your kapetan I expect to you to follow my orders just as you obeyed his. I will not tolerate any man who challenges my authority. I will not tolerate any man who does not have the heart for the fight to come. We are all in this to the end. Now return to the cave and tell the others what has happened. You can begin to divide our weapons and ammunition ready for the other bands. Only the explosives remain with us. Yannis?’