by Iain Gale
As Lamb watched, saying nothing, Hartley led Hollis on to the top step and very slowly began to descend. The boy let out a whimper and an ‘Oh my God,’ but that was it and soon the pair were on their way. Lamb smiled at Valentine, and behind him noticed Miranda Hartley. She too was smiling, and he knew why.
The steps curved down the cliff face some 2,000 feet before reaching the bottom of the gorge. The surface was worn, and from the outset Lamb realised the danger. Sure enough, hardly had ten minutes passed before there was a cry from in front of him and he saw someone, one of Ryan’s men he thought, slip and fall. The man tumbled down several steps and for a moment Lamb thought he was sure to fall off into the abyss. But he managed to roll into the cliff face and lie there, yelling in pain. They stopped, and after a few moments Mays, who was some way in front of him, yelled up, ‘Broken ankle, sir. They’re going to have to carry him down.’
Their progress now was even slower, and Lamb was half tempted to leave the man behind. For what seemed like an eternity they edged down the steps, occasionally knocking a stray rock over the edge. Finally, a good hour after they had started, the first of them touched the ground of the valley below. One by one they staggered off the steps and sat down under the plane trees which grew at their base, until Bandouvas urged them to their feet. Lamb came last, after ensuring that they were all safely down.
Bandouvas welcomed him. ‘That was the hard part. From here on it is less steep.’
They moved in silence down the valley, and gradually the sides of the ravine through which they were walking became closer together. As they went they crossed a little stream which flowed along the base of the gorge. Then, after it seemed that they had hardly gone any distance at all, perhaps three miles, they found themselves approaching a group of whitewashed buildings enclosed by a six-foot-high wall.
Bandouvas shouted back, ‘We will stop here. This is Agios Nikolaos.’
He led the way towards two huge iron-studded wooden entrance gates which were set in the wall, pulled hard on an old and rusted chain, and from within they heard a pealing bell. The noise echoed down the gorge. Lamb cursed. The bloody fool, he thought. If their pursuers had not heard them on the steps they would now be in no doubt as to their location.
One of the doors swung open and they saw a small man, heavily bearded, dressed in black and wearing a cylindrical black hat. Behind him was one of Bandouvas’ andartes.
The monk clasped Bandouvas’ hand in his and looked at them. ‘Kapitan. Welcome back. God’s blessing be with you, my friends. Please come in.’
They walked in through the gates and found themselves in a wide enclosed courtyard. All around them figures in black robes moved in silence in and out of arched doorways, evidently preoccupied with their tasks and disinterested in the strange newcomers. The gatekeeper led them across the courtyard to the grandest of the buildings which was crowned with a dome, topped with a stone cross. He said something to Bandouvas, who turned to Lamb.
‘The abbot wants only me, you, the King and his cousin.’
Together the four of them followed the monk inside. Lamb gasped. The walls of the room were hung with tapestries twenty feet high and some fifty long, and underfoot was a thick, dark red carpet. Around the room sat gilt-wood chairs upholstered in crimson.
Father Sofronios was seated at the end of the room, behind a huge polished desk on which lay a bible, a gold cross and various documents. He was, Lamb guessed, in his sixties and his long, once black beard was now quite grey. He looked at them with kindly eyes as they entered, but said nothing.
Bandouvas walked towards him, speaking fast, then turned. ‘This is Father Sofronios, abbot of the monastery. Father, this is Captain Lamb of the British Army, of whom I told you. And this man, this is His Hellenic Majesty, the King of Greece.’
Lamb was caught off guard by Bandouvas’ lack of respect for the King, but moved aside and gave a slight bow. ‘Father Abbot, may I present His Majesty King George and His Highness Prince Peter.’
The abbot stood and nodded his head in deference, and the King and the Prince, Lamb noticed, did the same. Bandouvas did nothing.
The King muttered some words of Greek and the abbot smiled and nodded.
He approached Lamb. ‘A pleasure to meet a fellow warrior in Christ. God is gracious to grant me such company.’
‘Warrior?’
Bandouvas explained.
‘Yes, the abbot was mobilised by me ten days ago. He took an oath with all the other andartes and kapitani in a cave at Agios Sillas. It is his role now to act as hospital for the fighters, and also a place where we can meet in secret.’
‘A field headquarters.’
‘Exactly. Here in the monastery. Actually it’s only an annex to the main monastery, which is a few kilometres away at Frangokastello, on the coast.’
‘I’m sure this will do. I’m just surprised that monks should fight.’
The abbot spoke. ‘I hate the Germanos as much as you do, Captain. Perhaps more. I have hated them for years. Long before you left your country to fight them here I had people from all religions here who had been hunted from their homes by these Nazis. Their stories were so filled with tragedy that they would make even you weep, Captain Lamb. They are a scourge and must be wiped out. You are safe here, for the moment. I don’t think the Germanos know of us. We can help you get to the coast. You must get His Majesty away.’
Bandouvas scowled.
Lamb ignored him. ‘Thank you. We need to rest, and some of our men are wounded.’
‘My monks will look after them. Come, you must rest and eat.’
In the refectory off the courtyard Lamb and the officers ate with the civilians and the royal party.
Meanwhile, across the yard, the monks had set up a great table for the men, who could hardly believe their good fortune. Dinner consisted of chicken and oysters with as much bread as they could eat, washed down with wine from the monks’ own vineyards. Bennett and the other NCOs kept them in check, but when they had finished eating, as the wine did its work, Valentine turned to the sergeant-major.
‘Tell me one thing, Sergeant-Major. Can you tell me why we’re resting here? I mean, it’s all very nice, all this, but if it wasn’t for the King we could have been long gone from here by now, down at the coast finding a boat to take us off. Either that, or we could be back there up in the north, doing what we’re meant to do: kill the bloody Jerries.’
Bennett rounded on him. ‘That might sound like mutiny to anyone else, Valentine. I’d keep your lip buttoned up if I were you.’
‘It’s not mutiny and well you know it, Sergeant-Major. It’s just common sense.’
‘I’m telling you, Valentine. The captain was given an order, and that’s what we do. We follow his orders.’
Valentine said nothing more, but now what had been the germ of an idea had begun to grow in his mind and it would not be denied.
17
They slept that night in cells vacated by the monks, the other ranks two or three to a room, the royal party and the officers on their own. The abbot had allowed the Hartleys to be together. Neither Lamb nor Anna of course had made any mention of their relationship, and so it was that the following morning he awoke alone with the sun streaming in through the tiny window. He rose and washed his face from the ewer on the table before dressing and walking out into the courtyard. The monks were already about their business and, shaking off the cobwebs of the night, he walked across the dusty yard to the refectory where they had been told they might find breakfast. He had not got half-way across when the bell rang for the gate. The keeper peered through his grille and opened the door, admitting three andartes. They looked exhausted and, seeing Lamb in the uniform of a British officer, their leader made immediately for him.
In an instant the man’s way had been barred by Valentine, who stepped out in front of the unarmed Lamb, his Schmeisser held at the ready.
The man stepped back and grasped for his own weapon.
Lamb held
up a hand. ‘All right, Sarnt, I’m sure he means no harm.’
The man was in his forties and wore a turbaned hat and a black waistcoat above his crap-catcher trousers and hessian boots. Behind him came two boys, one wearing a bandanna. Like Valentine, they were armed with captured German weapons, two Mauser pistols and a Schmeisser, and had bandoliers of bullets slung round their necks.
Valentine stood down and Lamb turned to him. ‘Thank you, Sarnt. See if you can find Captain Bandouvas.’
‘I could try translating myself, sir.’
‘Very well.’ Lamb addressed the leader. ‘Where are you from? Who are you with? Whose band? Who is your kapitan?’
The old man smiled. ‘Kapitan. Yes, kapitan.’
‘What do you know about the King?’
‘King.’ The old man spat on the ground and wiped his moustache with the back of his hand.
Lamb tried another tack. ‘Do you know where the Germans are?’
The old man smiled again. ‘Germanos. Yes. Here, Germanos.’
He reached deep into his right pocket and, drawing out his hand, opened it to reveal three severed human ears.
‘Germanos, yes, Germanos.’
Lamb stared in horror at the grisly trophies.
Valentine gasped. ‘Bloody hell.’
Bandouvas appeared beside him and spoke to the man, who nodded. ‘These are my men. They know where the Germans are.’
‘Evidently,’ said Valentine.
‘They know, Kapitan. They have told me.’
‘And?’
‘They say they are eight cigarettes away.’
‘What?’
‘It’s how they calculate distance. One cigarette takes eight minutes to smoke so they think how many could I smoke in that time. Eight cigarettes. They’re at Theriso. They are following us. Two platoons at least, maybe more.’
Valentine said, ‘Seems a pity we can’t fight them, sir, doesn’t it?’
‘What?’
‘Well, don’t you feel we should be fighting back instead of getting the King away? I mean, sir, what real worth is that?’
‘Valentine, I’ve warned you before not to question orders.’
‘I’m not, sir. I wouldn’t ever do that. I’m just saying that in my opinion we should either be fighting them or we should get away as fast as we can. As it stands, sir, we’re doing neither. And if we keep doing what we are then we’re going to get caught and we’ll all end up in the bag, or worse. It’s just a case of ethics, sir. A soldier’s ethics, isn’t it? I mean, what are we fighting for? Justice, freedom, call it what you like. And we end up saving a King who if he survives this war will get back on that throne and do his best to make life hell for his people. He’s done it before. Just ask them. They’ll tell you. That’s why they threw him out. Twice.’
Lamb sighed and shook his head. ‘Thank you, Sarnt. I’ll bear that in mind. Now go away and do something useful.’
Bandouvas, who had been talking to the three andartes, now dismissed them and turned to Lamb. ‘I was listening to your sergeant. He’s right, you know.’
‘About what?’
‘Why are we saving the King when we should be killing Germans? We could turn back and face them. Kill them as they come up the mountain. It would be like a bird shoot. And why save the King anyway? What is he to you, Kapitan Lamb? Whatever it is, he’s less than that to us. Do you know Hitler wants to put his brother on the throne? His brother, who is married to a German cow. Did you know that his whole family is Germanos? They have more in common with the Germans than with any of us, Greeks or Cretans. I say we turn back and face the Germans. Leave the women here.’
‘And the King?’
Bandouvas smiled. ‘Well, he could just meet with an accident, couldn’t he? He’s not a well man. You’ve seen that. A foot placed wrong on one of these mountains. A casual slip and … no more King. And no more trouble for you, Kapitan. I know you worry about your men. You are a good soldier, a true warrior. But you have not been given a soldier’s job to do. Get rid of him, Kapitan. Then we can go back and kill more Germans, and then I will take you and your men to a better place to get away to Egypt. And we will all be happy.’
Lamb looked at him. ‘Have you finished?’
‘Yes. For now.’
‘Good. I’ll forget I heard that. It’s treason.’
‘No, Kapitan, it’s reason. It’s just common sense.’
Lamb was impatient to get moving. He drummed his fingers on the table and sat and stared at the map and then out at the morning sky. Valentine’s words had made him think, but it had been Bandouvas who had really rattled him. For an instant, no more than that, he had actually been tempted by the idea of faking the accident – of ‘losing’ the King. But then of course you also had Tsouderos and the Prince to deal with. And what about the civilians? He wondered, too, what his men would think of him if he were seen to be party to such an act. He was sure that other, similar treatment was being meted out to officers and other ranks across the island at that moment. It was always the case in times of war. When things descended into chaos old scores were quickly settled with a bullet in the back of the head when no one was looking.
Bandouvas’ proposition aside, for once Lamb could see Valentine’s logic, and it annoyed him. For a moment it crossed his mind that perhaps the man was actually more like him than he cared to admit.
He had seen one or two of the monks sitting in a quiet spot beneath the trees at a place between the cloister and the cell block which was largely hidden from view, and he went there now and sat in the shade. He allowed himself a few minutes to think.
At length it struck him that perhaps there might be a compromise. If he were to turn back, to head back to Theriso with one or both platoons and Bandouvas’ men and to leave Ryan and perhaps Anna in charge of the civilians, then he would surely have discharged his duty to the colonel and still have salved his conscience as a soldier. It would not please Bandouvas, but it would most certainly help him and his men. And the kapitan had told him that he would get them away.
He found Charles Eadie. ‘Charles. There’s a new plan. You and I are going to head back north with the men. I’m going to leave Ryan here with his own platoon, the King and his party, as originally planned. I’m also leaving the civilians. Bandouvas will want to come with us, but Anna can stay with the women. I’m sure we’ve come far enough ourselves. Lieutenant Ryan is quite capable of doing the rest, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose so, sir. Yes. I don’t know. But I thought your orders were specific. I thought …’
Lamb snapped at him. ‘Well, what you thought was obviously wrong. I set out in this war to make a difference, and the best way I know of making a difference is to kill Germans and try to get more of our men off the island, not saving a bloody half-baked German monarch with no kingdom.’
‘Yes, sir. Of course.’
Lamb walked away. He found Bandouvas talking quietly to Father Sofronios. ‘I’ve taken a decision. We’re leaving the King here, with Lieutenant Ryan. I’m going to take my men back up the mountain. With any luck we’ll meet our pursuers on the way. I suppose you’ll want to come with us?’
Bandouvas raised his eyebrows. ‘This is very sudden, Kapitan. Why the change of heart? Have you become a republican? Has Anna been talking to you?’
‘No. I just feel we’d be more useful with our own men doing what we do best.’
‘I’m pleased. Yes, of course we will go with you. It’s also what we do best, as you know. Do you think Ryan can get the King away?’
‘I’m sure of it. I’ve done what I was ordered to do. I’ve got him to safety. Getting to the coast from here should be easy. You said it yourself.’
‘Whatever you think. Anyway, it’s the right decision, if perhaps not exactly what I might have hoped for.’ He grinned. ‘What about the civilians?’
‘They can stay here and take their chances with the King. Besides, I’ve a feeling that one of them is more than he seems. I’m sure
he’ll be able to help.’
‘Comberwell?’
Lamb nodded.
‘Yes, I think you’re right. He seems sometimes to behave very differently from the idiot he pretends to be. When do we go?’
‘As soon as we can. I’ve yet to tell the King. Oh, you might want to leave Anna with them. For Mrs Hartley’s sake.’
Lamb found Ryan and briefed him, and together they went in search of the King. They found him talking to Prince Peter and Julian Hartley, sitting in the shade of an olive tree, sipping red wine.
‘Your Majesty, I have taken the decision, in all our best interests, to return you to the care of Lieutenant Ryan and go back to fight with our army, or what’s left of it.’
The King frowned. ‘Captain? Are you serious? I thought you had been sent specifically by Section D to escort me to safety.’
‘Actually, no, sir. It was somewhat more haphazard than that. But that is what I have done, Your Majesty. This place is as safe as you can be on the island, and Lieutenant Ryan here assures me that he will have no trouble in getting you through the gorge and down to the beach. The attaché has organised a ship which will take you to Egypt.’ For once, believing his own reassurances, Lamb felt as if things might have been restored to some semblance of order.
The King shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Captain. I really can’t see your reasoning. Surely it is your duty to personally get me to that ship.’
‘With respect, sir, my duty is to my men and to my country, and it is my opinion that that obligation is best fulfilled if I now return with my men to the fight. Kapitan Bandouvas and his men will be returning with me, save one of the women who will remain with the British civilians who will accompany you off the island. We intend to confront and destroy the German troops who are on our trail. That should ensure your safety.’
The King nodded. ‘Very well, Captain. If that is your decision I shall respect it. But I must say I am more than a little disappointed and I have to tell you I shall make that clear in my report to London.’
