Peter had ripped open a dressing from the first-aid box but now hesitated as he saw the look on the driver’s face.
‘There must be something . . .’
‘No, sir.’
Peter’s shoulders slumped as looked down at Steiner. He was gasping for breath. He suddenly stared straight up and fixed his eyes on Peter and smiled thinly. ‘Muller . . . I’m finished.’
‘We’re doing what we can to—’
‘Save your breath, Muller.’ Steiner’s face screwed up in agony for a moment and then it eased. ‘Before I am done, you should know something. Your father was a good man. A good man, but a fool. And a traitor.’
Peter felt surprise and then a flash of anger before Steiner continued.
‘He was involved with a small cell of other academics and students who were publishing pamplets undermining the Führer. That was why he was brought in for questioning . . . He was starved, beaten and deprived of sleep. He was raving in the end. That’s when he first mentioned the cave and the tomb. One of the interrogators realised the significance of what your father was babbling about. That’s when I was called in . . .’ Steiner smiled coldly. ‘I watched them try to beat it out of the old man. He recovered his wits towards the end and died trying to protect his secret . . . The location of the tomb. But I found it anyway.’ Steiner’s lips curled into a sneer. ‘I found the tomb!’
Realisation flooded into Peter’s mind and he felt sick. Sick and disgusted as he stared down at Steiner. Peter was still for a moment and then tossed the dressing away and climbed out of the car and turned away. He could hear the pained gasping for breath as Steiner bled to death. But there was no pity in his heart. None at all. Only a terrible grief and anger at discovering the truth of his father’s death.
There was a faint, gurgling cry from the vehicle and then what seemed like a long silence.
‘He’s gone, sir.’ The driver looked up from the corpse.
Peter found that his hands were trembling and he bunched them into fists at his side as he turned to look over the side of the car at Steiner’s body. The neat grey uniform was now drenched in blood and the Sturmbannführer’s head lolled to the side, jaws slack as if he was about to speak, his eyes staring unblinking at the back of the driver’s seat.
‘Cover him up,’ Peter ordered as he turned away. He glanced down and saw that his own uniform was smeared and spattered with the other officer’s blood and tried not to shudder as he strode towards the trucks. The nearest one was still burning fiercely. Steiner had been furious with the fools in the leading armoured car who had opened fire as soon as they had seen the vehicles and the andartes. If any of the contents of the tomb had been destroyed he had sworn to have the crew disciplined. His death would be a small mercy for them at least, Peter mused. The heat from the flames struck him a stinging blow and he raised his arm to shield his face as he worked around the back of the truck. Through the flames he saw that the bed of the vehicle was empty and gave a sharp sigh of relief. There was nothing in the other trucks either and he looked over the bodies of the Greeks scattered around the trucks. They must have removed the crates, he realised. But where had they taken them? And what still remained in the cave? He had to ensure that what was left was saved.
Drawing his pistol he moved towards the trees, cautiously watching for any sign of the enemy as he advanced, even though there was no sound of any firing. He passed the line of armoured cars. Their engines were ticking over and the crews had opened their hatches now that the action seemed to be over. There were two dead soldiers a short distance from the trees and others were helping wounded comrades back towards the sheds at the dig site to have their injuries seen to.
Peter stopped the nearest of them. ‘Where is your officer?’
‘Hauptmann Schoner?’ The soldier turned and pointed in the direction of the cave. ‘Over there, sir. That’s where the last of the bastards is holding out.’
Peter nodded and entered the treeline. Almost at once he came across the first of the Greeks, his head reduced to a shapeless bloody mass by the impact of bullets. He encountered two more bodies as he passed through the low boughs and undergrowth, before emerging a short distance from the cliff. There were more soldiers, standing in groups and talking cheerfully, as they had come through the action unscathed. Others, perhaps less experienced, stared into the mid-distance, numbed by the noise and the terror of the brief but vicious firefight. It took a moment to spot the officer, standing with several of his men at the foot of the path leading up to the cave. Peter saw the body of an older man lying close by, curled into a ball on his side, the ground beneath him dark with blood.
Schoner looked up at his approach. ‘Ah, Muller. Where’s your friend, Steiner?’
‘The Sturmbannführer is dead, sir.’
‘Really?’ Schoner looked surprised. ‘That’s too bad. But we seem to have got all the bastards who gunned our lads down this morning. Still not quite sure what they were doing up here in the first place, mind you.’ He shot Peter an enquiring look. ‘Care to enlighten me?’
‘I am sorry, sir. I am under Steiner’s orders not to say.’
‘That’s somewhat academic now he’s dead.’
‘His instructions came straight from Berlin, sir. From Reichsführer Himmler.’
Schoner stiffened at the name. Then he turned towards the crate still standing at the base of the cliff and the ropes leading up to the cave. ‘I take it that has something to do with it. What can you tell me, Leutnant?’
‘All I can say is that your comrades were retrieving items vital to the Reich. They died trying to protect them and now we need to recover them and ensure they are sent to Germany safely. Those were Steiner’s orders, and now I must see them through.’
‘I see. I take it you are assuming responsibility here?’
Peter hesitated. He was outranked, but clearly Schoner did not want to risk incurring the wrath of Himmler if anything went wrong. ‘That’s right, sir. These are your men, but until we have carried out our purpose here I will have to see that the Sturmbannführer’s orders are carried out. If you are agreeable?’
Schoner smiled. ‘I would rather it was your funeral, Leutnant Muller. I will do as you direct me.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Sir!’ A soldier interrupted them and the officers turned to see one of the mountain troops had started a short distance up the path. ‘Look there.’
They followed the direction he indicated and saw a streak of blood on the rock beside the path. Then Peter saw another higher up and quietly pointed it out to Schoner. ‘At least one of them is still alive. Up there in the cave.’
He pointed to where the ropes disappeared into the hidden entrance.
‘A cave, you say?’ Schoner nodded. ‘We’ll deal with them easily enough. A few grenades will do the trick.’
‘No,’ Peter replied. ‘No grenades, sir.’
Schoner frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘There’s a risk that you will damage the contents of the cave.’
‘Shit . . . I assume that means no shooting either.’
‘I’m afraid not, sir.’
Schoner swore bitterly. ‘I hope it’s worth it, Muller.’
Peter did not reply and the other officer hissed with contempt and turned to the man who had spotted the blood. ‘Schenke, there’s a cave up there. Take two men and clear it.’
‘Yes, sir!’
‘No grenades, no guns. Just bayonets, Schenke.’
The soldier hesitated. ‘Sir?’
‘You heard me. Get moving.’
The soldier reluctantly gathered two of his comrades and they set their weapons down and started up along the path towards the mouth of the cave as the two officers and their comrades watched from below. Schenke slowed down as he approached the spur of rock that hid the entrance to the cave and drew his bayonet and turned to his comrades to indicate that they should do the same. Then the three men crept forward and Schenke disappeared into the cave. A moment
later there were two muffled shots and a shout from one of the soldiers and then Schenke’s comrades shuffled away from the cave entrance.
‘They got him! They shot Schenke.’
Schoner swore and turned to Peter with an angry look. ‘No grenades and no firearms, and now one of my men is down.’
‘I’m sorry, sir.’
‘Sorry isn’t good enough, Muller. Look here, you speak Greek, right?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then you go up there and tell those peasant bastards to surrender. Tell them that if they don’t we’ll starve ’em out. Then we’ll hand them over to the Gestapo. Tell them that if they surrender now I will do what I can to see that they aren’t executed. Is that clear?’
Peter nodded.
‘Then get up there, Muller.’ He half-patted, half-thrust Peter towards the foot of the path and ordered Schenke’s comrades to come down. Once the way was clear, Peter swallowed nervously and with both hands on the guide rope he climbed towards the cave. His heart began to beat fast against his ribs and he felt his mouth grow dry and licked his lips and coughed. Then he was at the finger of rock in front of the cave and he stopped.
‘You inside the cave!’ he called out in Greek. ‘My superior officer demands that you surrender. If you come out then he will do his best to ensure that you are treated fairly.’
‘Fuck you, German dog!’ a strained voice shouted back. ‘Come and get us!’
Peter looked down towards Schoner and shrugged. ‘They say no, sir.’
‘Try again! Try harder!’
He steeled his nerves and took another step forward, then saw the wires leading out of the cave and up into the rocks either side. At once he knew what they portended and felt terror, not just for himself, but for the incalculable loss to civilisation if the cave and its contents were destroyed. Clearing his throat, Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He leaned forward and waved it over the entrance to the cave.
‘Let me speak to you. Please. There has to be a way to settle this without any more loss of life. I beg you. Talk to me.’
There was a brief silence before the voice inside came again. ‘Who are you?’ Your name?
‘Leutnant Muller. Leutnant Peter Muller.’
‘Peter . . . Holy God . . . Peter?’
Outside the cave, the air seemed to grow very cold quite suddenly and Peter trembled. He knew the voice. He recognised it, even now across the years, and the knowledge made him feel sick with grief. Of all people, why him? Why now? Why here? And then he recalled Eleni’s face on the hillside as she fled and he felt the full weight of the bitter joke that fate had played on them all. They had promised to meet again, and here was their youthful pledge come true. Come back to haunt them. He cleared his throat.
‘Andreas, is that you?’
‘Yes . . .’
‘And Eleni. Where is she?’ he asked, aware that she was probably already dead, her body somewhere down among the trees.
‘In here . . . With me.’
There was something in the tone of the last two words that struck Peter with anxiety.
‘Eleni, are you all right?’
‘She is wounded, Peter. Badly. Your men shot her . . .’ Andreas groaned. ‘My beautiful Eleni, shot.’
Peter closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Let me come in, Andreas. Let me speak to you and see if I can help. Please.’
There was a pause before Andreas replied. ‘Are you armed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then throw your weapon inside, then come in with your hands raised. Keep them where I can see them.’
Peter breathed deeply, then unfastened his holster buckle and took out his pistol. He ejected the magazine and then, holding the weapon by the barrel, he edged into the mouth of the cave and tossed it towards the shadows at the rear. The metal clattered loudly on the rock floor. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and then he saw the two bodies two metres away. Over to the rear he saw the cases stencilled with German insignia, and the jagged hole in a slab of rock and a further space beyond. It was just as Steiner had described it to him.
‘My God . . . It is true. The tomb of Odysseus.’ He stood and took a pace towards it.
‘Stop!’ Andreas shouted at him. ‘Stay there, by the entrance.’
Peter turned and saw the wavering muzzle of the Marlin sub-machine gun pointing towards him and backed up, hands raised. For a moment neither man spoke and then Eleni stirred and blinked and then clenched her eyes shut as she cried out in pain. Peter stared at her anxiously, and then saw the detonator lying at Andreas’s side.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked gently. ‘Blow the cave up?’
‘I could do that.’
‘With you both inside?’
‘And you, Peter . . .’ Andreas winced, fighting a fresh wave of pain. ‘All three of us together. Like we once said it would be . . . Do you remember?’
‘Yes.’
Andreas smiled thinly. ‘I don’t suppose we ever thought it would be like this, eh?’
‘No. I wish to God it was not so.’
‘Nor I. Fate is cruel, my friend.’
Peter clutched at the last words desperately. ‘It doesn’t have to end this way, Andreas. You can live. And so can Eleni. I give you my word that you will not come to any harm if we all leave this cave together.’
Andreas shook his head. ‘Even if I accept your word, that would mean giving all this up to your Nazi masters.’ He waved a hand at the crates and the entrance of the tomb. ‘It would mean that you would steal what belongs to my people . . . What defines us . . . Our very history. No, I cannot allow that.’
‘But you cannot destroy it either,’ Peter protested. ‘This belongs to not just Greece, but all civilisation. You have no right to destroy it.’
‘I do not mean to destroy it. Just bury it. Make it safe. But yes, if that risks destroying it all, then it is better than to let you have it. You speak of civilisation . . .’ Andreas shook his head. ‘Germany has forfeited the right to be part of that world. I have seen the proof of it myself in the square at Lefkada.’
‘That is not Germany. That is the Nazis. Their time will pass. Better men will rule in Germany in the years to come.’
‘Let better men come and find the treasure then. I will not let the Nazis get their hands on it today. I swear it.’
Peter looked towards the tomb but he could not see inside it. So tantalisingly close to realising the lifelong dream of his father and yet within a moment of being blasted to fragments. Desperation filled his heart as he tried to form the words of his appeal to Andreas. ‘For pity’s sake, save yourself. Save Eleni, and save this for humanity . . . Is your heart made of stone, Andreas? Can you not see the immeasurable value of this?’ He gestured helplessly at the tomb.
‘Of course I can . . . That is why you must not have it.’ Andreas coughed and blood ran from his lips. He raised his hand to wipe his mouth and Peter eyed the detonator and tensed his muscles to make a leap for it. But the other man read his intention well and raised the gun.
‘Don’t.’
Peter eased himself back and held his hands higher as Andreas coughed again. When the fit had passed, he rested his hand on the plunger lever and stared across the cave at the German. ‘You ask what my heart is made of. What about yours? How can you be a part of the great evil that is done in the name of Germany? Are you so senseless that you do not see it? What matters is what we do now. What you can do to save Eleni. She needs your help, Peter.’
‘If I can get her out of here, I will see that her wound is treated.’
Andreas looked at her for a moment and continued gently, ‘Then do it. Take her first and come back for me.’
Peter worked his way over to Eleni and tenderly inspected the dressing, now soaked in her blood. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes opened and closed with a fluttering motion. He ached for her and was filled with dread that Eleni’s wound was mortal. Reaching under her body, he lifted her from th
e ground. The movement made Eleni stir and she groaned and her eyes opened and she suddenly started.
‘You . . . Bastard!’
She lifted her hand to slap him but lacked the strength to do more than strike him lightly. Eleni tried to push him away and cried out in frustration as Peter moved towards the mouth of the cave.
‘Andreas! Don’t let him take me! I will stay . . . With you.’
‘I will be with you, Eleni. I swear it. Peter, go. No! Wait.’ Andreas propped himself up and reached under his shirt. He slipped a fine chain over his head and held out a small silver locket to Peter. ‘Take this. For Eleni.’
Peter pocketed the chain.
‘One last thing . . .’ Andreas grimaced and gritted his teeth briefly. ‘Whatever happens, swear to me on your life that you will protect Eleni.’
‘I promise.’
‘Swear on you life!’
‘I swear it. Now we must go.’
Eleni shook her head. ‘No.’
Andreas looked away and waved his hand. ‘Go! Go.’
Peter did as he was bid and his body blocked the light entering the cave and cast flickering shadows across the uneven floor. Then the light returned and they were gone and Andreas could hear Peter’s boots fading as they descended the path. Despite what Peter had said, he did not trust the other Germans to hold back while Eleni was seen to. He covered the entrance with his Marlin and pulled up the plunger on the detonator.
Then he settled back and tried to find a position that offered him the most respite from his agony. He felt the drenched cloth of his jacket and realised that he had lost a great deal of blood. He knew that he could not be saved and found calmness in accepting his fate. His gaze settled on the entrance to the tomb and he smiled at the idea of his body resting alongside that of a legendary hero. They would spend the rest of eternity together, unless the Greek king’s grave was ever uncovered again, in which case future archaeologists would find his remains alongside those of Odysseus and be puzzled at the discovery of the bodies of two warriors together, but separated by three thousand years of history. He smiled weakly at the puzzle that would present.
Hearts of Stone Page 41
