“The midwife,” Sophia whispered.
“Yes, I will fetch her right away.” Diana started to rise, but Sophia clung to her hand.
Her eyes were wide. She shook her head. “Please do not leave me alone.”
“Then I will send one of the boys.” Diana did not know how to assist Sophia with her pain, but she could not imagine the floor was comfortable. She pulled a pillow from the bed and helped Sophia rest her head on it.
“Do not let my sons worry.” Sophia’s brows drew together in concern for her children. “Do not frighten them.”
Diana nodded. “I will send Chrysanthos with a note for Elena. She will bring the midwife.”
Sophia’s face relaxed. “Yes.” She closed her eyes.
Diana glanced around the stark bedchamber. The room contained only a bed, a wooden chair, a chest, and a wardrobe. Upon the wall above the bed hung a cross and a small painting of Mary and Jesus. The first time Diana had seen the room, she’d been surprised at the simplicity. Sophia did not even have a dressing table or a desk. Diana realized she had never seen any paper nor writing tools in Sophia’s house. She lit another lantern and carried it down the stairs, searching for anything she could write on.
A thought came to her, and she grabbed a kitchen knife and hurried outside. She sliced a pad from the cactus plant, then carefully broke off the prickly spines. For just a moment she considered what words would be simple enough that Elena would be able to read them, and would accurately convey the urgency of the situation.
βoηθησε Voithise help
µηtερα Mitera mother
µωρο Moro baby
ελα ταχεως Ela Taxeos come swiftly
She carved the words carefully into the cactus pad, knowing the nouns were undeclined and the verbs conjugated incorrectly, but Elena would understand. She took the message and rushed inside. When she reached the door to the boys’ room, she knocked, then opened it. “Chrysanthos? Are you awake?”
“Yes, Missno. Is something wrong?” His voice came from the dark.
She opened the door wider and lifted the lantern. The sound of the children’s breathing came from the other beds. “No, but I need you to deliver a message to Elena.” She spoke softly.
He sat up in his bed, and his eyes glimmered in the light from the flame. “At the wedding? Mitéra told me—”
“I know, but it is important. Your mother has given her permission.” Diana tried to keep her voice calm but felt an urgency to hurry back to Sophia.
He must have wanted to return to the wedding badly enough that he only wrinkled his nose in a puzzled look for an instant. “I need to dress.”
She closed the door and waited in the hallway for just a moment before he emerged, then gave him the lantern and the cactus pad. “This is the message. Please be careful with it.”
Chrysanthos wrinkled his nose again as he looked at the marks scratched on the green disc, but he only glanced up at Diana briefly before he hurried away.
When she entered Sophia’s room, the feeling of helplessness returned. Sophia knelt with her hands on the floor and head bowed. Her damp hair hung in a curtain, and though she could not see the woman’s face, Diana could hear her labored breathing.
“Elena will be here soon, with the midwife,” Diana said. She crouched down and laid a hand on her friend’s back. “What can I do, Sophia?”
Sophia raised her head, and Diana cringed. Her face was pale, and her eyes winced and trembled. Perspiration beaded on her brow. She did not think she’d ever seen a person’s expression convey such agony.
“Something is not right,” Sophia said. “The baby—”
“They will be here soon.” Diana spoke in a soft voice. “Come, I will help you into your bed.”
Sophia shook her head.
“Do you . . . can I get you water?”
“Yes. Water.” She spoke through clenched teeth and groaned again, tensing back into a ball.
Diana rushed down the stairs and found the water bucket empty.
She hurried outside to the stream, finding her way by moonlight, since she’d left the lantern in Sophia’s room. Once she returned to the kitchen, she filled a wooden cup, then started toward the stairs.
The door opened, and Elena burst inside. “Where is Mitéra?”
“In her bedchamber.”
Elena ran up the stairs.
A woman entered behind her. She was large and capable-looking. The wrinkles on her face showed that she had seen many years, but she did not stoop nor shuffle her steps.
“Thank you for coming,” Diana said. “Sophia is—”
“No drinking.” The woman’s voice boomed through the kitchen.
Diana glanced down at the cup in her hands. “She is thirsty, so—”
“No drinks for a birthing mother. It will make her vomit. But bring the bucket. We will need water.” She walked with purposeful steps up the staircase, and Diana followed.
The woman took charge of the situation immediately. “You two, remove your fine gowns and bring clean linens.” She helped Sophia into a sitting position, leaning her back against the wall.
Diana and Elena exchanged a glance, then left the room to do as they were instructed.
“Will Mitéra be all right?” Elena asked while they changed their clothes.
“The midwife seems to know what she is doing,” Diana said. She did not want to allow her own worries about what Sophia had said to frighten the girl. “And your mother has had five other babies.”
Elena nodded, and the pair returned to Sophia’s bedchamber.
The midwife was pushing on Sophia’s round stomach with the heels of her hands. She seemed to be rotating the mass inside her. “The baby has not turned,” she said.
Sophia’s face was tight, her eyes closed and her breathing coming in gasps.
“Sometimes we can—” The midwife paused and prodded gently with her fingertips, then pressed her ear to Sophia’s stomach. After a moment, she moved to her other side and listened again. “Two,” she said.
“Two babies?” Sophia asked.
The woman nodded her head. “Yes. And both are facing the wrong direction. We must hurry.”
Several hours later, Sophia lay exhausted on her bed. Diana got the impression that the birth had been more difficult than normal but had nothing to compare it to. The midwife pulled liquid from the second baby’s nose and smacked its backside. The baby made an angry wail that matched the one produced by its twin a few moments earlier.
Diana felt a laugh well up at the sound. She glanced at Elena and saw the same expression on her face, delight, and relief.
“A girl,” the midwife said, then wrapped the squirming red infant in a cloth and laid her beside her mother.
Sophia looked back and forth at the two babies lying in the curves of her arms. Tears shined in her eyes. “A boy and a girl. God has been good to us.”
Diana wiped her fingers at the moisture that trickled down her cheeks. She’d never seen anything more beautiful than these two miracles.
Elena perched on the edge of the bed, touching the dark hair of one baby. “What will you name them, Mitéra?”
“Apollo and Artemis.” Sophia smiled as she gazed at the small faces. “They will likely be called by Christian names as they get older, but for now, they are my miracles, and I will name them after the twins of legend.”
“You must rest,” the midwife instructed. “I will return tomorrow to ensure that all is well.”
“Thank you.” Sophia’s eyes closed.
“Mitéra, sleep. Diana and I will care for the babies until they are hungry.” Elena carefully lifted Artemis.
Diana took the bundle of blankets Elena held toward her. She felt her throat constrict. She’d never seen a baby so small. “I don’t know how to hold her.” She whispered the words, worried that a loud sound might frighten the helpless infant.
Elena lifted the other baby and adjusted Apollo so that his head lay against the inside of her elbow and he wa
s cradled in her arm. “You’re doing it exactly right, Missno. A woman knows how to care for a baby.”
Diana sat on the chest, leaning back against the wall. She adjusted the blanket and studied the small face. The baby girl, Artemis, looked like an irritated old man. A tiny hand found its way free from the wrappings, and Diana touched it gently. Artemis grabbed onto her finger with a small fist.
Diana could not stop smiling as she watched the baby’s expressions and movements. She felt overjoyed, and at the same time like she would break down and weep.
Elena sat on the chair beside her and turned Apollo so that he lay on her legs. She ran her fingers over his thick hair, then smiled at Diana. “I cannot imagine anything more precious, can you?”
“No,” Diana said. And truly, she could not.
[
Diana jerked at the sound of a gunshot. She glanced down at the baby she held, but Artemis did not seem to have noticed the noise. Her heart pounded, and she held the infant closer to her chest.
She looked across the room at Elena but saw no worry on her face. Just the strain of a long night.
“Visitors,” Elena said. “They are here to see the babies.” Elena gave the baby she held to Sophia and hurried out of the room.
Diana walked toward the window. Another gunshot sounded, then another. Her gaze darted to Sophia, but she did not seem concerned. “They fire weapons to celebrate my new son.”
Diana glanced down at Artemis. Did nobody celebrate a daughter?
Down in the main room, she heard noises: a man’s booming voice, a woman’s softer tones, and the excited sound of the Mavromichalis boys all speaking at once.
The children had been delighted to wake to find two new babies had been born during the night. They did not even seem bothered when Diana served fruit and yogurt instead of warm bread for breakfast.
The voices grew closer, and she heard the sound of feet pounding on the steps. She saw that Sophia was sitting up in the bed, pushing her hair out of her face, and smoothing down the sheets. Surely visitors would not come into her roo— The door swung open, and Petrobey strode inside followed by Dino, Themis, Stella, and Agatha.
“Where is the Mavromichalis clan’s new gun?” The bey spoke with a grin on his face.
“Apollo.” Sophia held out the boy for the men to see.
“A fine child,” Petrobey said. “And he will make a fine warrior.”
Diana thought the word warrior was the farthest thing from her mind when she looked at the tiny infant’s face.
The other adults asked after Sophia’s health, and Agatha held the baby. Petrobey looked around the room, his eyes lighting on Diana then dropping to the infant in her arms. He stepped toward her.
“This is Artemis.” He spoke softly, stroking the baby’s head. “Hello, kardia mou,” my heart. He raised his gaze to Diana. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
Diana nodded. Her heart warmed at the gentle way he spoke to the baby girl. Was this man truly a pirate? “Yes. Would you like to hold her?”
He accepted the bundle, lifting her to rest against his shoulder. He hummed a soft tune and rocked the slightest bit. “I saw the message you sent Elena. A cactus plant, very resourceful.”
She looked up at Petrobey and saw that he leaned his head back slightly, studying her with shrewd eyes.
“I could not find any paper.” She thought her sentence sounded foolish, but his scrutiny made her nervous. What was he thinking?
“She is clever, isn’t she?”
“Elena?” Seeing affirmation in his face, Diana nodded. “Extremely.”
“I knew it.” His lips flattened into a line beneath his mustache, and he bent his head forward in a satisfied nod.
Diana realized his gesture meant the conversation was over. She glanced out the window. Daphne Sássaris stood on the street before the garden wall. She lifted her hand, as if she would open the gate but stopped. She raised her eyes and saw Diana and Petrobey in the window, the baby in his arms. Daphne’s mouth drew down, and her eyes hardened. She turned away.
Diana glanced toward Petrobey to see if he had seen Daphne as well.
His brows were pulled together thoughtfully as he looked out the window. But after a moment and without a word, Petrobey walked to join the others at Sophia’s bedside, and Diana excused herself to tend to the boys.
As she walked down the staircase, the image of Daphne’s expression loomed in her mind. The pain and anger had seemed nearly tangible as she’d glared toward the house. Diana’s heart hurt for the woman, and she wondered whether it was preferable to have never cared for someone in the first place rather than to suffer the loss of one you love.
Chapter 17
Alex shouldered the rifle and walked with quick steps. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Dino’s face was tight and his gaze scanned the road from side to side. Even Themis was quiet for once, holding his weapon at the ready. The journey from Limeni to Tsímova seemed to take much longer than usual. Urgency coursed through Alex’s veins, and he was tempted to break into a run.
When the three men arrived at Sophia’s farm, he gazed around, relieved that nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Dino did not stop to announce their presence but strode through the gate and across the garden, opening the door. “Elena,” he called, walking to the stairs.
The church bells began to peal, and Dino let out a curse. “Elena! Where are you?”
The girl came down the staircase, holding a small bundle in her arms. “What is wrong?” Her gaze darted behind him as if to see why the bells pealed.
Diana appeared at the top of the stairs, holding the other baby. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she looked at Alex and then widened when she saw his rifle.
“The Sássaris clan, Gdikiomos.” Dino pushed past her and started up the stairs. “Where are the boys?”
Elena’s face turned white. “Georgi is at the orchard, and the others are with the goats in the mountains.”
Dino stopped. “Do you know where?”
“No. Yes.” She shook her head and took on a determined look. “I can find them.”
Dino nodded. “Come, Themis. Alex, remain with the baby.”
Themis’s eyes narrowed and he looked as if he would argue, but a look from Dino stopped him.
Elena pushed the baby into Alex’s arms. The bells continued to peal, their sound foreboding, a signal of alarm rather than worship. She rushed out the door, followed closely by her relatives.
Alex made sure the door was closed tightly. He propped the rifle against the sofa and moved the baby into a more comfortable position in the curve of his arm. He brushed his fingers over the soft hair, and his heart grew warm. “So small. Is this . . . ?” He raised his eyes to Diana.
“Artemis.” She took a step closer. Her face was tight, but she spoke calmly. “Alex, what is happening? Are the children in danger?”
He tucked the infant girl tightly against him and lifted the gun. He nodded. “We need to speak to Sophia. Is she upstairs?”
“She is asleep.” A crease formed between Diana’s brows. She led him up the staircase, stopping at a door and knocked.
Sophia called for them to enter and sat up in the bed when she saw Alex. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the baby he held. “Alexandros, have you come to see—” Her head jerked toward the window. “The church bells.” She pushed aside the blankets and hurried to the window. “Is the town under attack?’
“Gdikiomos,” Alex said. He moved next to her, looking up the deserted road. “The Sássaris clan.”
Sophia’s face paled, and she pressed a hand to her breastbone. “Where are my boys?”
“Dino and Themis have gone for them,” Alex said. “Elena also.”
Diana put her arm around Sophia’s shoulder and led her to sit on the bed.
Alex put the baby he held into her mother’s arms and stepped back near to the window. There was no movement on the road below. The sound of the church bells must have sent the vil
lagers into their homes for safety.
“I am sorry,” Diana said. “I do not understand what is happening.”
Alex turned from the window. “The Sássaris clan have sworn a vendetta—a blood feud against the Mavromichalis clan.”
“What does that mean?” Diana sat down on the foot of the bed and lifted the baby boy up against her shoulder.
“A vendetta,” Alex said the word in Greek, then looked to Sophia to explain, but she nodded for him to continue. He lowered the butt of the rifle onto the floor, leaning the weapon against the wall. “It means they have vowed to kill every male member of the family or die trying. A vendetta such as this will not end until one family surrenders or leaves town, or—”
“Or until they are all exterminated,” Sophia finished in a whisper.
“But why?” Diana looked between the two. “Why would they do this?”
Alex rubbed his neck. “Daphne Sássaris claims that a witch put a curse on her family.” He winced as he looked at Sophia. “On your orders.”
“That is the most ridiculous—” Diana began. But she stopped when Sophia bent down her head and began to weep.
Alex caught Diana’s gaze and lifted his shoulder in a shrug. He did not understand the vendetta or the superstitions any more than she did. Believing that intelligent people would willingly endanger so many lives, and all for an irrational belief, was nearly beyond comprehension.
Diana opened her eyes wide in an expression of puzzlement. But the look was gone in an instant, replaced by resolve. “What should we do, Alex?”
“The men will return with your children soon, Sophia.” He glanced once more out the window and strode to the door. “We need to be ready when they arrive.”
Sophia wiped off her cheeks. “Yes.”
“Ready for what?” Diana asked.
“With Hektor gone, they will be safest at Limeni in Petrobey’s tower. That is where the Mavromichalis men and boys are gathering. Do you have a cart, Sophia? I don’t think you are in any condition to walk the distance.”
She stood. “Yes. Missno will show you. I will gather the boy’s clothing.” She laid Artemis on the bed and started toward the door. “I am so grateful you are here, Missno. Elena will need your help to tend to the farm.”
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