I knew it was morning even before I opened my eyes; the weather felt fine and clear, the air was nippy and grand. I'd been conscious for some time replaying what I could remember of my dreams - the whispered phrases, that sensation of speed, the visit from Maska - they were all so vivid, but did they mean anything? I stood and stretched and cleared my camp, whistling to myself. Sometime during the night I'd rolled off the blanket and flattened some yellow bloom into the deep red earth of the gorge. I apologised out loud, trying to stand them up again and at that I had to smile. Two other things brightened those early moments; the well-spring of the oracle had become crystal clear, peeping from a crevice in the rocks and one or two violets had flowered overnight.
Within the time it took to get down to the beach, the morning grew to silver and I was glad my initiation was over. The sea was running high. Now I felt ready, prepared. Alexis was waiting with water and some toasted oatmeal cakes. I was ravenous and ate and talked all at once as we walked back up to the hut on the high point.
'Weird dreams Alexi. Mikri and Maska and strange phrases and now I have a feeling everything's alright, whatever happens. We just have to stay focused and be fully conscious of the moment.'
'“Fully conscious of the moment”. Mm,' he caught my eye and slapped my shoulder. 'Ha!'
Down on the long flat rock two fishing boats were moored after bringing a silent handful from the village. You could sense the tension in the air. Manolis came over, his face drawn, 'We were too late. Most of the pilgrims are gone already. Apart from a dozen or so, these few are local farmers and fishermen. There may be more coming with Nikos but not many I don't think, they're too scared. And by the way, the Customs men are late.'
I tried to look calm. 'Don't worry Manoli. They'll be here.'
Of those that had come a couple had shotguns, a few carried farming tools, long poles and fishing nets and reminded me of senior retired gladiators. At least there were plenty of stones on the beach.
Alexis drew me over to the mill and the extent of what had been developing was evident once the entrance was open. The people crowded round the crates cursing, grumbling to one another and waving their arms, unable to believe their eyes. They lost no time in opening the crates but were obviously mindful of the meaning. I stood in admiration at the way these gentle people laid in to rescue their heritage. There was more treasure in those boxes than most had seen in their entire lives but to them it just brought menace, a threat to their existence on the mountain.
After a few rattling and grinding false starts, Aristethes eventually got the fork-lift engine growling, taking as much as the men could carry, drag, or roll across the ground to him down to the jetty.
'Boss! A boat is coming. Look!' I spun round expecting the worst but at that moment the Delfini cut the air with its now familiar horn announcing the arrival of the Princess of Stephanos. My confidence exploded and I roared into the sky like the Thira eruption.
Alessandra was the first ashore, leaping from the gunwales to the rocks, 'Hello Ari, good to see you. And you too, Mr Ash or perhaps I should say, Mr Lambrakis. You seem different, a little taller - more pleased with yourself too. I take it the night went well? She patted her satchel, 'Let's hope she accepts our gift.'
With great care, from her bag she took a roll of delicate material and carefully lay it at her feet. For our Pallas Athena she had woven the finest wool and spun the most delicate thread to make a soft, shining, yellow tunic with a veil edged in golden embroidery; a labour of love, a work of sweet freshness and marvellous beauty in honest simplicity. I took her hands in mine and kissed them. Alexis looked into her eyes and without a word he drew her into his arms, and held her.
Now there was no time to lose. We split into groups. One group of ten inside opening the crates and clearing away the debris; ten getting the cargo outside; another ten loading the bucket or carrying what they could down to the rock at the water's edge. Alessandra, now driving the fork-lift, Alexis and nine others loading the goods onto the gin palace. The people from Dorini would return with Aristethes to offload the stuff at their quayside. I don't know how many waited there to stack it into carts for the basilica, but all in all it took us over two and a half hours to empty the warehouse of all crates marked Faria and stow them aboard the Princess of Stephanos.
'She has room for more if you want,' grinned Captain Dimitris. 'She's bigger than she looks.' He winked.
'Not this time Captain. Let's stick to our plan.'
I felt no joy or relief as I watched her pull away and though I knew his boat would not be safe until her cargo was stored in the crypt, I gave him a wide smile and waved, wishing him, 'Kalo taxidi', and promising to see him soon, but not realising how soon. The hut gave a clear view all the way to the horizon so I could watch his boat without obstruction until he was out of sight.
The men were finding places amongst the rocks and ruins on the beach. What a raggedy bunch of heroes we must have looked - farmers and fishermen already tired from all that lugging and heaving. Even if the Kaliantikos expected no resistance, we had to be careful. The Sophian family was brave but her people were not crazy desperados.
The Princess looked confident pushing through the water making a line for the south but then, to my confusion and astonishment, after a few minutes I saw her begin to slow and come about in a steady wide circle. For some unexpected reason Captain Dimitris had changed direction and was making his way back here to the cove at full speed. There must have been a problem and with those treasures, he could not take chances. Perhaps the crates were sliding about on deck or maybe she was top heavy, or maybe she wasn't handling to his liking, any one of a thousand reasons. Who could tell?
Then as I wondered, my eyes lifted to the horizon and my stomach fell to my boots. I scanned the line of light hoping for some innocent sign or sense in what he was doing. I thought I saw something but couldn't be sure. I narrowed my eyes, and screened them from the light. A breeze came from the north but the day stood calm and clear. I looked harder and there it was again, a speck on the horizon crashing through the line of light. Three black spars heading for Faria, a solitary spark of light shining from its foremast and then for some reason, it slowed almost to a stop.
'Alexi! Quick! Come! Look!'
Together we stared across the water scared to breath or blink, trying not to panic.
'It is them. They're back. Mother of Zeus where's that damned launch?' Alexis gripped my wrist, 'We're sitting ducks.'
But there was no sign of the authorities and now the Cyclops took its time on the horizon half hidden by the glare - the predator had sighted its quarry. The light from its eye focused on the ferry as though it knew what we had done, calculating its next move, and for a while nothing happened, nothing, not even a wave. Then slowly quickening, it began to grow in stature and threw aside the sea, coming after the ferry with sinister intent.
'Boss, boss, there is no more time. I have to make the ritual now.'
'Let's go.'
'Not you, boss. No! Too dangerous. Make your ritual in the hut.' Alexis rubbed his head and swore, 'You're crazy boss. You could die.'
I thumped my thigh, 'Come on! We go together!'
Down to the beach, we tore off our clothes and plunged in the sea for the final cleansing then back to the fire for ash and milk and blood and smeared it over our bodies.
There was no sound, not a sigh from the crowd. Alexis stepped back, his eyes tight shut, his long arms outstretched, he began the litany, 'Oh mighty Athena, Goddess of Storm and Lightning, Protectoress of our homes and villages, Embodiment of wisdom, reason and purity, Favourite Child of mighty Zeus who allows you to use his thunderbolt, Virgin Goddess, Protectoress of the home, we ask you now to come forth and protect us, the brave and the valorous. Come, and stand beside us.'
And still not a murmur - nothing - just this potent calm reigning over the water. The air was muggy and dense, then to my astonishment, birdsong - a joyful racket! I looked across at the others.
Alessandra smiled, 'Always before a storm, the littlest birds make the loudest noise.'
The light breeze blew from somewhere behind us now, bringing with it the scent of pine and eucalyptus. Out at sea, the Princess was making good headway now but bearing down faster and faster, dipping and slicing through the waves surged the Kaliantikos like some potent evil serpent and we knew our Princess was no match.
Alexis screamed, 'Hold your arms higher.' In one hand I held the small jar and in the other, the fluttering robe.
For a second I was distracted by the flight of a little owl, close by and right across my line of vision, inches from my face before it disappeared. And then, as if in utter contrast, there was a mighty crash, the sea trembled and dark waves rose. I almost dropped the jar. I looked around. What was happening? An earthquake? The storm?
Alexis turned and pointed to the blackening sky in the west, breathless he screamed, 'Did you hear that boss? Did you hear the snorting of her holy horses? She washes the flecks of sweat from their mouths as they champ the bit and cleans the clotted foam. Boss, the Goddess is ready to come and slay this many headed monster as she did Medusa.'
My mind was blank. What were my dedications? We exchanged glances. Alexis looked aghast. ‘Come on, Boss!’ I looked at the boat. The Kaliantikos seemed to fill the sky.
Then I heard myself call out, 'Oh, Pallas Athena, I bring you this virgin oil with which Castor and Hercules anoint themselves. It is blessed when you anoint your glossy tresses.' I flung the jar high into the air and watched it arc into the sea without a splash. 'Oh Goddess, I offer you this robe edged in gold that you may once again bless us with your favour. Come! Come! Stand at our side!'
With all my might I tossed the flimsy robe into the air and watched it catch the wind and sweep up into the sky high above the lagoon where it dissolved into the mist like a shooting star. A warm wind rushed through the fire. It crackled and spat. Now we were too immersed to move.
Alessandra stood between us, taking our hands and held them aloft and together we chanted, 'Come forth, Pallas Athena, Oh Goddess of these rugged rocks. This company, pleasing to your heart, waits to be saved. Athena Champion come. Bring you the Sirens that their song might dash this evil vessel on these vigilant rocks and save our old village. Come forth Athena, Sacker of Cities; Athena, helmeted in gold; Athena, who rejoices in the crash of storm and lightning in defence of simple people!'
We were terrified. We shook with a violent excitement and tears stung our eyes.
Then all at once a tremendous strength coursed through my body. A blinding electric crack split the moody sky and in that instant, sheets of torrential rain hammered down upon the Kaliantikos without a pause. The storm whipped up from nowhere, spitting and hissing at the boat. I held my breath and looked out to sea, my eyes locked on the prey. The Princess of Stephanos took its chance and somehow cleared the rain and passed into the lagoon, all hands on the port side staring at the yacht.
The first squall of wind carried away two carbon fibre masts of The Kaliantiakos and left just the foremast standing. Even this, however, would be more than enough but they dared not hoist even a rag of sail upon it. Everything was swept off the decks, even the courtesy gig flew through the air like a bird.
The tempest grew in anger and raged upon the yacht. The powerful engines driving the propellers had little or no effect whilst the vessel was hurled about. The waves, increasing in size and force, continued to invade the boat. Before my eyes I saw it roll and swoop and buck and cow-kick at the onslaught of the storm as if the tempest gathered vitality from the sea itself. She was shaking violently, back and forth, back and forth. It was the most amazing and terrifying experience of my life. A tremendous wave broke the stern, tore the rudder off, and left them at the mercy of the gods. There was the deafening crack of splintering wood as the yacht was chopped and shredded. My heart was in my mouth. My head was pounding. Petrified and confused, I sobbed and tears streamed down my face. Then in a handful of minutes she had gone, smashed to pieces.
Some figures struck out bravely in the waves or hung to bits of decking but few survived, most having perished. I knew their mission had failed for good. I closed my eyes only to see the lightning in my head. The sea was still heaving but the raving had reduced to all but rattling thunder.
Then just as suddenly as it had come the storm passed in a fading breeze.
I looked for Alexis. He was down off the beach, wading knee deep through fragments of lumber washing against the shoreline towards a desolate figure. It was a young man - a boy of about seventeen - coughing and spewing up the salty sea, gasping and stammering to make sense of what had happened. So weak, we half dragged him, half carried him to the fire in the hut, and all the while he kept mumbling about sirens and nymphs armed with “shield and sword”.
'Standing on the spur, I swear a lady was standing. And there were snakes, all over, in the water swimming round the yacht.' He was crying - as I was. I piled on more wood, trying to look busy.
Alessandra whispered, 'This boy has stared into the eyes of Charon.' I made no response. How could I? I stood there, pathetic, petrified, unable to take my eyes off the lad, watching him shiver and weep.
'Boss, I'm going to have a final look round. You stay here and take care of him.' The boy sat trembling in front of the blaze and slowly wept himself to sleep, defeated by events. Manolis wrapped blankets around his shoulders and I went outside to catch up with Alexis.
During the raging some had yelled and cursed and some threw rocks to ward off the devils in that boat but most had stood in fear. And once all life had left, a sense of horror came and turned to shame for lack of true conviction. In the past I'd condemned the tales of the old Cornish wreckers, the poverty-stricken coastal villagers who misguided freighters onto rocks in a grasp for survival, but now I understood and was playing my part in condemning the robbers on the Kaliantikos to their deaths.
I looked at a weary Alexis staring into the water, 'Boss, over here - another body.' He pointed to a space between the rocks and as we drew closer we could see it had been a woman. When I turned it over, I saw the face of Daphne and with that the blood drained from my veins. Lifeless eyes stared past me at the sky, her watery mouth gaped open. Filth and grime littered the clothes and colourless face, the face that once rested on my pillow. I stood transfixed in sadness as it all fell into place and saw everything she'd tried to prove, had lived for, had turned to dust and rust. I kissed her forehead. Alexis placed a hand on my shoulder, 'Come Boss. Let's carry her to the hut.'
People were regrouping, their cold and spiritless faces turned to Alessandra. Her own face was streaked with strange colours but she was calm. She spread her arms and the people followed and when she began, they joined the solemn chorus, 'Mighty Athena, Goddess of Storm and Lightning, Protectoress of our homes and villages, Protectoress of Odysseus. You stood beside us, Grey-eyed Athena. You were victorious. Favourite Child of mighty Zeus, you came to defend the people. Once more you answered the call and came to our aid. Your shield has squashed the threat and we are safe again. They trembled in fear before you, our goddess. Oh, Pallas Athena, Dread Goddess, we bow before you.'
The salt was bitter on my lips. The furious sea was calm again. Once more Poseidon had bowed to Athena. And it was over. There was no doubt we had witnessed some awful power unleashed and whether it was an abnormally fierce Etesian wind or something else I do not know, but I do realise that I will never forget the systematic destruction of that boat.