The Ghosts of Anatolia (19 page)

The rider guided his horse down a short embankment, dismounted in front of the cabin and untied the bindings from Flora’s legs. “You should’ve seen this place before I cleaned it out. It’s really not that bad now. Anyway, it’ll have to do for a week or two until we get better acquainted. Now, I’m going to set you on the ground, and if you’re good, I’ll untie your hands and give you water.” He lifted Flora off the horse and set her on the ground. “That’s my girl. Okay, let’s go inside.”

Flora stared out across the endless scrub-dotted wasteland surrounding the cabin. They were completely isolated.

He led her through a rickety door into the darkened shack. The single-room dwelling was empty except for a small rug and a stack of blankets set against one wall. Rays of sunlight beamed through cracks in the ceiling.

“How do you like our castle, my sweet?” he asked, as he removed the gag. He untied her hands and turned her slowly around. He admired her beauty in the muted light. “So very fine,” he whispered. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers through a wisp of hair protruding beneath her headscarf and traced his fingertips across her cheek and down to her breasts.

“No,” Flora sobbed. She pushed his hand away and sank to her knees. Her scarf dropped to the floor and her hair cascaded across her face. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“No one will hurt you.” Pulling off his mask, he knelt before her. He lifted her tear-streaked chin and brushed her hair back from her eyes. “Look at me, little one.”

Flora gasped. Her terrified expression melted into shock.

“So, you do remember me. Fool that he was, your father refused to sell me his land. Did you imagine then we’d soon be lovers? From this moment on, I’ll be your protector and your provider. In due time, God willing, you’ll bear me many strong sons.”

Flora gawked at Pasha and clenched her jaw with rage. “Never,” she gasped. “I’d rather die.”

“Oh, but you are wrong, my princess. Soon enough you’ll beg for my attention.”

Abdul fetched a cloth from his saddlebag and wet it with water poured from a leather pouch. Squatting beside Flora, he lifted her head and dabbed dirt from her face.

Flora turned her head. “Don’t!”

“I’m being patient, my sweet, because I know this is difficult for you, but my patience is coming to an end. You’ll take this cloth and wash your face. Then, you’ll remove your filthy dress and...”

Flora glared defiantly, her eyes flashing anger. “No!”

“Yes, and then you’ll cleanse yourself and put on this new dress.”

She shook her head rebelliously. “No, sir, I will not.”

“Yes, you will, and then you’ll willingly offer me your affection.”

Flora shook her head. “I will never...”

Pasha grasped Flora’s jaw to silence her. He turned her face to his and glowered into her eyes. “You will, or tonight, I’ll send my men back to Kemal Sufyan’s farm to kill your mother and all your brothers and sisters.”

Flora’s eyes widened with fear. “Please, sir,” she sobbed, “don’t hurt my family.”

“It’s up to you, princess. If you willingly give me your love, then I’ll see they’re all safe and provided for, including your father.”

Flora’s eyes opened wider. “My papa?”

Abdul nodded. “I’ll do all I can for them, including your father and brother in prison. Now, I’m going to feed the horse. There’ll be no more tears when I come back inside. Okay?”

Flora took a deep breath. She bowed her head and stared at the floor. Tears were streaming down her face.

Abdul reached out and tenderly caressed her cheek. “Do you agree?”

Flora sighed, wiped her eyes on her sleeve and nodded.

“That’s good. You will see, we will be very happy.” He turned and walked to the door. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

Abdul stepped inside the house and shut the door. “That’s much better.”

Flora was sitting on the rug with her knees drawn beneath her. She wore a blue and green cotton dress and her hair was rolled up in a bun. “You promise to help my family?” she asked, without looking up.

“You have my word.”

“Including my papa and brother?”

“I’ll do everything I can. I have some influence with the lieutenant governor-general.”

Flora looked up. “Promise me.”

“I promise, if you agree to accept me as your husband.”

Flora took a deep breath and slowly nodded her head. “If you will help them, I will do what you ask of me.”

“You must understand, my princess; it’ll be many months before you can see your family again.”

“Months? I can’t wait...”

“You must,” Pasha interrupted. “That’s how it must be. It’s forbidden to help an Armenian—especially one accused of treason.”

Flora’s eyes bulged. “Treason? My papa never committed treason.”

“Listen to me. If you want me to help your father and brother, then you must accept me as your husband and they must never know. It’s the only chance they have to survive. Do you agree?”

Flora stared at the floor.

“Do you agree?” Pasha prodded. “Without my help, they will surely hang.”

Flora looked up at Pasha. She tearfully nodded her head.

“No more tears. I’ll make you very happy.” He stepped across the room and picked up the rag from the floor. He rinsed it with water from the bag. He took off his cap and scrubbed dirt from his face and hands. Finally, he peeled off his shirt and knelt before Flora.

Flora looked up. “I’ve never...”

“I know. I’ll teach you, my beautiful princess.” Abdul gathered her into his arms. He kissed the nape her neck and pulled her dress down to expose her pert breasts. He traced his hands down her hips and legs, and slowly lifted her dress. “All the virgins in paradise pale by comparison,” Abdul whispered breathlessly. He tracked kisses across her ear and kissed her full on the mouth.

Flora tensed reflexively.

Abdul ran his hand across her breasts and gently squeezed one nipple. “Relax, my darling,” he whispered. Running his hand between her thighs, he slid his fingertips beneath her undergarment.

Flora caught her breath. “No,” she whispered.

“Yes, oh yes. It won’t hurt. I promise.” Abdul pushed Flora onto her back and slowly tracked kisses down her stomach.

Staring up at the rickety roof, Flora bit her lower lip and closed her eyes.

Fadime held a crust of bread to Kristina’s chafed lips. “Eat it for the sake of your children.”

“I can’t,” Kristina whispered. She glanced at Sirak and Izabella. The two youngsters were sleeping together at the foot of the bed. “Save it for them.”

“Thanks be to God, they’re finally asleep.” Fadime whispered. “I thought their little hearts would break.”

“My God, oh my God: first Mourad and Stepannos and now my precious Flora. I can’t imagine her horror.”

Fadime pulled Kristina’s head to her chest. “You too must sleep, my friend. God will...” She turned at the creak of the door.

Sabiha stuck her head inside. “Mother, it’s Father. Thanks be to God!”

“Kemal’s here?”

“Yes! He’s home.”

Fadime and Kristina rushed to the front room.

Kemal was disheveled and dirty and soaked to the skin. “They took everything?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, everything,” Nahid replied dejectedly. “And they took Flora, too.”

Kemal stared back in shock. He buried his face in his hands. “The world’s gone mad.”

Kristina pushed past Fadime. “Thank God you’re safe, Kemal. What happened to Mourad and Stepannos?”

“They locked them up in the Central Prison in Diyarbekir.”

“Prison? Dear God, why?”

“They’re charged with aiding the enemy.”

“What enemy?” Kristina gasped in disbelief. “They’ve done nothing.”

“It makes no sense whatsoever. They’ve charged all the Armenians with the same crime.”

“Have they been hurt?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them since they took us to the prison. I was jailed in a different building.”

“Mother Mary, full of grace,” Kristina whispered.

“They separated the Turkish prisoners from the Armenians, Christian Syrians and other Christians. I’m sure they’ll let them out soon.”

“Did they hurt you?” Fadime asked.

“No, I was well treated. They locked me up for three days and then interrogated me. The interrogator warned me not to harbor any more infidels and threatened to terminate my deferment. I told him I’d known Mourad my whole life and that he’d done absolutely nothing to undermine the Empire. I told the man Alek was serving in the army, but his ears were closed.”

“But why?” Kristina asked anxiously.

Kemal sighed. “I don’t know. The prison is overflowing with Armenians from all over the province, and many of them are little more than boys. We’re fortunate Mikael looks so young or they would’ve taken him, too.”

Kristina glanced at Mikael. He stared back with vacant, sorrowful eyes.

“I wish they had taken me,” he said.

Kristina traced the sign of the cross across her chest. “Don’t say that. God spared you for a reason. We must leave here in the morning, and I need your help with Sirak and Izabella.”

“You can’t leave now,” Fadime protested. “Where will you go? You can’t stay alone on your farm.”

“We’ll go to Diyarbekir to find Nurse Elizabeth and Dr. Charles. I pray they’re still there. Maybe Dr. Charles can help Mourad and Stepannos. If we stay here, we’ll only put you at further risk.”

Kemal sighed with resignation. “Perhaps you’re right. We should also report Flora’s kidnapping to the authorities in Diyarbekir so someone’s looking for her. I’ll take you to the Missionary Hospital tomorrow. While I’m there, I’ll ask for a hearing with the lieutenant governor-general to appeal for Mourad’s release. Then, I must move my family somewhere safer, too.”

“Where will you go?” Kristina asked.

“Fadime has a brother with a farm near Ergani. We’ll go there. I’ll leave a message for you and Mourad at the post office in Ergani if we must leave there for some reason.”

“Thank you, Kemal. Thank you all for everything,” said Kristina.

Fadime gave Kristina a lingering hug. “We’ll pray for all of you unendingly. You’re my sister now.”

“W
ait here for a minute,” Kemal shouted. He turned and walked to the barn.

Kristina examined the knapsack, blanket and other items strapped to Mikael’s back. Sirak stepped from the house with Izabella in tow. The young girl was cradling her precious doll in her arms.

“Goodbye, Kristina,” Fadime said sadly. “Promise you’ll come back as soon as you can.”

Kristina gave her friend a warm embrace. “I promise. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. I want to give you these.” She pressed her pearl earrings into Fadime’s palm. “Take whatever you’re offered to help feed your family.”

“I can’t take these,” Fadime protested. “This is Mourad’s gift to you.”

Kristina closed Fadime’s hand around the earrings. “Please, I want you to take them.”

“I’ll keep them here until you return. God bless you.”

Kemal jogged out of the barn. “Okay, we must leave now or we won’t make it to Diyarbekir before the afternoon heat.” He picked up Izabella, set her on his shoulders and headed across the barnyard with Kristina and her sons.

“Goodbye, Sirak!” Özker yelled through his cupped hands.

Sirak turned and waved. “Goodbye, Özker! Best friends forever!”

The Sufyan family stood in the barnyard and watched Kemal, Kristina and her children walk down to the river bend. Finally, they disappeared into the stand of spruce trees.

“Allah’s grace be upon you, Kazerians,” Fadime said. She turned, and taking Özker’s hand, solemnly led the others inside the house.

May 4, 1915

Mourad looked up at Major Akcam. His breathing was labored and perspiration was beaded on his forehead.

The major walked deliberately around the interrogation chair. “This is your last chance, infidel. Who are your Andranik contacts?”

Mourad took a deep breath. “I told you, we’re just simple farmers. We never helped the Andraniks.”

The major slapped Mourad across the face. “Liar! I’ve had enough of your lies.” He turned to the guards. “Get the boy.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard replied.

Mourad’s right eye was swollen completely shut. The left was only a slit. “Please, sir, don’t hurt my son. He’s only an innocent boy.”

Akcam stepped across the room and chose one of the canes. He whipped the rod down on the bench with a resounding crack. “This one will do nicely,” he grunted.

“In the name of God!” Mourad cried out. “We’ve done nothing wrong! Please, sir, have mercy.”

“Let your Christ save you,” the major scoffed.

The door opened and the taller guard pushed Stepannos into the room. The boy locked eyes with his father. He was trembling with terror.

Tearing off the boy’s shirt, the guard forced him down on the bench and bound his arms and legs to the ends.

“This is your last chance, infidel,” the major barked. “Who are your Andranik contacts?”

“Papa!” Stepannos cried out.

Tears streamed from Mourad’s swollen eyes. He nodded to his son in silent support, and then bowed his head. “Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no...”

The major drew his sword. “Look at him! Look at your son or I’ll chop off his head.”

Mourad looked up at Stepannos. The tall guard arched the cane over his head and whipped it down on the boy’s back. A loud thwack echoed through the room and Stepannos screamed in pain. Droplets of blood trickled from the scarlet welts emblazoned across the boy’s shoulder blades.

The major stepped in front of Mourad and tapped his knee with his sword. “Confess your crimes and I’ll spare the boy. If you persist with this charade, I’ll kill him.”

Mourad dropped his head to his chest. “Lord Jesus, please have mercy.”

Major Akcam punched Mourad in the face. “Shut up, infidel! Your God has no power here. Light the boy’s hair on fire.”

Mourad’s face contorted with anguish. “No! In the name of God, no!”

The guard smiled and fetched several matches from his pocket. Striking them, he yanked Stepannos’ head up off the bench and held the flaming matches in front of the boy’s face.