Authors: Jane Aiken Hodge
âEven in this, which is flouting the will of God?' And then seeing that this was too complicated an argument for the girl to grasp: âOenone, I must tell you. This morning, I offered Alexandros all my fortune if he would only let us go, Milord Renshaw and I. Would not that be better? You know, as well as I do, that I am no wife for him. He must know it, himself, in his heart. It's only his prideâ'
âYes,' said Oenone, âbut his pride
is
Alexandros.'
âThen we must think of some way of satisfying it. Oenone, think! Suppose I was to give all my money to you, freely, as your dowry?'
âAnd why should you do that?'
âFor lettingâ' But Oenone's finger was on her lips.
âHush!' she said. âThe man is coming back.'
As the key grated in the lock, Phyllida thought his arrival could hardly have been more timely. She had managed to put the idea of conniving at their escape into Oenone's head without actually saying the words. Besides, was there not encouragement in the way Oenone had silenced her? Already, to some small extent, they were fellow conspirators.
âYou took long enough!' Encouragement, too, in the way Oenone scolded the man as he appeared with a bottle of wine and two glasses. âI've eaten already,' she explained to Phyllida. âBut I will keep you company while you eat.' And then, suddenly eager, like the child she really was. âTell me about your
country. About America. Alexandros says it is full of miracles. Are there really boats, there, that go without wind?'
âWhy, yes. Did you not know? Milord Renshaw owns one of them, the
Helena
. I believe that is what Alexandros really wants. more than anything else.' Both of them, now, were aware of the man at the door, listening.
âWithout any wind?'
âYes: By machinery.' The word meant nothing to Oenone, but what did that matter? âThat is why Alexandros left in such haste,' she went on. âBecause he heard that the
Helena
had left Kitries harbour.'
âI see.' Oenone was puzzling it out. âI thought it strange, when the news came that Ibrahim was out, and Alexandros did not march north himself. He sent every man he could spare.' She was making excuses for him.
âYes, but, don't you seeâ' This was inspiration. âThe
Helena
would be worth any number of men to the Greek cause. Imagine what she can do. Come up against the wind. Tow a fireship into the enemy fleet in the teeth of it. There's another one already, up in the Gulf of Aegina, the
Karteria;
she did wonders in the defence of Athens. I can understand why your cousin wants the
Helena
.'
âYes.' Oenone drank the strong, resinated wine. âBut why should Milord Renshaw understand?'
Another opportunity. But how to use it? So many questions she wanted to ask. And always she must remember the man at the door, listening. âI sometimes think he hates the
Helena
,' she said at last. âHe built her for the lady who should have been his wife. The one who jilted him.' Had she got the Greek word right? Yes, clearly Oenone had understood her.
âShe was called Helena? Yes, I see. So in exchange for his freedom?' She, too, was thinking of the man at the door, and spoke fast and low.
âMost certainly.' That was enough for now. She raised her voice a little. âHow is Milord Renshaw? I can hear nothing from down there.'
âOf course not.' Oenone laughed. âThese towers are not built of firewood. They are built to last, to be held against the enemy. You'll not hear a sound from Milord Renshaw, but he's there right enough.' She laughed again. âAnd behaving like a milord too. Do you know, he managed to make old Anastasia fetch him
paper and pen. He's writing a book, she says. Can it be true? A real book?'
âIndeed it's true.' Oh, splendid, capable Brett! âHe's writing a book about Greece. One that should make the whole world sympathise with your cause.'
âLike Milord Byron?' Oenone was no fool. She proved it again in what she said next. âBut if Alexandros lets him go, and he writes about this?'
âIt will depend how he writes. Suppose Alexandros had Captured us [careful, don't use the word kidnapped], not for personal reasons, but because he knew what the
Helena
could do for the cause of Greece. And then, suppose Milord Renshaw wrote how well we were treated, as captives here, given the best of everything, sharing your joys and sorrows, protected from the Turkâ'
âWe have talked long enough.' Oenone was on her feet. âThe wine is finished. I will see you tomorrow,
kyria
. Sleep well.'
Phyllida fell asleep, among the sheepskins whose stink hardly bothered her any more, with a prayer on her lips. Time ⦠with enough time, she thought she could talk Oenone into freeing them. If only she knew where the
Helena
was, and what had happened to Jennyâ¦
Nightmares, of course, and in the morning the familiar headache, a little worse today, but yielding, at last, to hot coffee, brought by the old crone, Anastasia, who had found paper and pen for Brett. And that must have been something of an achievement, Phyllida thought. Where in the world, in this barbaric stonghold, would one find pen, and, still more unlikely, the amount of paper Brett would need?
Oenone did not appear until supper time, but when she did, there was food for two on the tray, carried by a Greek Phyllida had not seen before. Was this a good sign? Impossible to tell. But, surely encouraging, was a new look about Oenone, a brightness, a sparkle in her eyeâ¦
âYou look better today.' Phyllida had waited until the simple meal was set out on her table and the man had withdrawn to the doorway.
âYou can see it?' Oenone poured wine for them both. âThere's news today, splendid news. Alexandros sent a messenger back from the harbour. There's an Allied Fleet assembling off Navarino. They mean to make the Turks see reason, he says. Think,
kyria
, it may mean freedom for Greece at last.'
âFreedom for us, too, I hope. Milord Renshaw and me.'
âWhat do you mean?' Obviously, in her excitement, she had not stopped to think of the implications of this news.
Phyllida answered her with a question. âAlexandros hopes to be one of the men who will govern free Greece, does he not?'
âYes?' Puzzled.
âThink, Oenone. If the Allies do give freedom to Greece, they will have a considerable say in its new government. It stands to reason. Well! What hope will Alexandros have if he is known to have kidnapped an English milord and held him to ransom. It will be the end of everything, so far as he is concerned.'
âBut if you were his wife, you would not speak against him.'
âI tell you, I will never be his wife. Besides, even if I was forced to marry him, there would still be Milord Renshaw, whose voice carries infinitely more weight than mine. But Alex must have thought of this. What did his message say? Did it not mention us?'
âI don't know exactly,' Oenone admitted. âIt came to my uncle, who is in command here in Alexandros' absence. When he told me about the Allied Fleet he said nothing about you. But then.' She thought about it for a moment. âHe cares nothing about politics. He thinks only of life here in the Mani. He's never been farther away than Kalamata. He would rather Alexandros stayed homeâ¦'
âAnd lived by brigandage.' Phyllida finished the sentence for her. And then, remembering, flashed an anxious glance at the man on duty in the doorway.
âNo need,' Oenone smiled, her face astonishingly young for a moment. âHe speaks only Albanian. He might understand a word here or there, but that's all.'
Phyllida concealed the leap of excitement this news gave her. Oenone had intended tonight's conversation to be private. âYour uncle's in command here?' she asked.
âOf course.'
âAnd might not let us go even if Alexandros told him to?' Was this pushing her luck too far?
But at least Oenone was giving it serious thought. âI don't know,' she said at last. âAlexandros' word is usually law, but it's true, now he's away ⦠My uncle is already planning to buy the finest set of arms in Kalamata.'
âWith his share of the booty? I see. Oenone. can you get a message of your own to Alexandros?'
âNot possibly. No one can. The
Philip
sailed yesterday.'
âIn pursuit of the
Helena
?'
âI suppose so. Alexandros will catch her. There's nothing to be done until he gets back.'
âOenone, you're wrong. For all our sakes, you must believe me. You saw how angry Alexandros was when he left yesterday?'
âYes.'
âDid he tell you why?'
âNo. Alexandros does not explain things to me.'
âIt was because he thought he'd been betrayed.' God, how difficult this was. âHe had arranged, with my brother, that he would take over the
Helena
.'
âWith Petros, yes.'
âYou know him?'
âI have seen him.'
âAlexandros thinks Petros betrayed him. There was no message, you see. He thinks my brother has seized the
Helena
and taken her to Zante, to claim that I am dead and take possession of my estate. But he's wrong. I'm sure of it. My brother is a fool'âextraordinary to say it so calmlyââbut he's not a scoundrel. You've met him. What do you think?'
âI think you are probably right,
kyria
.' It pleased Oenone to be consulted. Phyllida could see her putting brains to work that she had hardly known she possessed. âBut in that caseâ' She thought it through. âWhat happened on the
Helena
?'
âWhat you'd expect, if you knew anything of Milord Renshaw. He would have left instructions with his captain. Careful ones. Covering everything. I think when Petros went aboard they must have been very surprisedâand very cautious.'
âSo?'
âI think they have probably kidnapped Peter in their turn and gone to seek help. They won't know about the Allied Fleet off Navarino. They will have gone the other way, round Cape Matapan, to Nauplia, to look for Captain Hamilton and the
Cambrian
. So don't you see, Alexandros will go all the way to Zante and find nothing ⦠Worse still, by the time he gets back, he may find that Hamilton has come to Kitries and rescued us ⦠In that case, he's a disgraced man. There will be nothing left
for him, but brigandage here in the Mani.'
There was a long silence. Then: âWhy should I believe you,
kyria
?'
They had come a long way in two days. âI don't know.' Phyllida took it as carefully as possible. âBecause it's true? Because we are two women, and understand each other?' And then, seeing Oenone still mute and unconvinced: âOne thing you could do. You could go and ask Milord Renshaw what instructions he left on the
Helena
. No need to tell him why. No reason why he should lie to you. Besides, he's a man of honour. Tell him I ask him to tell you the truth. He will.'
âYes.' Oenone thought about it. âHe will.' She had said âwill', not âwould'. âAnd if he confirms what you say,' she went on. âWhat then? Do you really think Captain Hamilton would rescue you?'
âHe rescued Milord Trelawney after Odysseus was killed.' Would Oenone have heard of this?
Mercifully, it seemed that she had. âIt's true,' she said. âThey're capable of anything, those English sailors. And it would be the end for Alexandros?'
âBelieve me, Oenone, it would.'
âThen I had better go and talk to Milord Renshaw. You've finished,
kyria
?'
âYes.' What had they been eating? âYou'll tell himâ' What could she ask Oenone to tell Brett? âTell him I'm well, and that I beg him to answer your questions.' Dared she ask Oenone to come back and tell her the result? No, there was the uncle to be considered. If things went as she began to hope they might, it would be fatal to have aroused his suspicions of Oenone.
Time crawled, yet raced by. How long would it take Alex to reach Zante and return? Her narrow view, next morning, showed her clouds still moving swiftly across the azure sky. The wind that helped Alex to Zante might delay his return. Unless he had in fact caught the
Helena
, and came back under steam. But that she would not believe. There was more smoke, today, visible above the hills to the north. Ibrahim was still at his murderous work. Which meant, surely, that the tiny garrison of the fortress would not be increased by the return of the party who had gone north to fight him. If Hamilton should come, or if she could persuade Oenone to help them escape, there would be so many fewer men on the plateau to be dealt with.
When Oenone arrived with her lunch tray, her heart gave an almost sickening lurch of hope. The man on duty at the door was the Albanian again.
The vegetable soup was thin and tasteless today. âAlexandros did not send the provisions he promised.' Oenone said it almost in excuse. And then: âMy uncle says he'll have to send a couple of men down the valley tomorrow.'
âOh?' Careful, she warned herself. Don't assume Oenone is telling you, on purpose, that the small garrison is to be diminished by two more. âHow long will it take them?' Surely a natural enough question to ask?
âTwo days. Maybe more. Certainly one night away, since their families are down there. I think we can count on two days.' And then, quickly. âSay nothing. Careful,
kyria
, don't forget the man at the door. Tone, he will understand, if not words.'
âYes,' Phyllida made herself pause, drink wine, take a bit of bread softened in the watery soup. Then: âYou are going to help us? You talked to Milord Renshaw?'
âHe's a man, that one. He understood me almost before I understood myself. You're right,
kyria
, he'd never have left the
Helena
unprotected. Alexandros might have taken her, perhaps, but never that brother of yours.'