An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [46]
She squeezed extra hard and pulled twice, very slowly.
Andreas moved his hand to where he could touch Lila’s bare ass and squeeze it in rhythm with her stroke. He began to moan, she kissed him and stroked faster. He moaned more, twisting beneath her hand, then paused for an instant before thrusting his hips forward and holding them there. ‘Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’
She didn’t.
‘Ohhhh, ohhhhh …’
Lila kept pulling, even after he’d finished. Andreas had to hold her hand to get her to stop. ‘Easy there, my love, we’ll need to use it again some day.’
She kissed his cheek. ‘You like?’
‘Yes … I like.’ He kissed her neck. They lay silently holding each other for a few moments, then Andreas left for the bathroom.
‘So don’t you want to know what he sent us?’
‘Who, my mind is completely blank at the moment. Just the way I like it.’
‘Glad I could clear your head.’
Andreas was laughing as he walked back into the bedroom. ‘Okay, what was it?’
‘The strangest thing. Garlic. A dozen heads, wrapped tightly together in a line, and in a gold mesh bag no less. Such a silly thing. But a lovely thought.’
His first thought was thank God the room was pitch black, so Lila couldn’t see his face.
Andreas swallowed. ‘Yes, a lovely thought.’ His mother used to do the same thing, hang garlic in their house. But it wasn’t for cooking: it was to keep the devil away.
Andreas remembered the day she gave up that superstition. They’d just returned from his father’s funeral. She was a young mother of two children whose husband had chosen to commit suicide rather than subject his family to any more of the shame brought on by the bastard minister who’d set him up to look corrupt.
It was a moment burned into his memory. His mother was tearing down the garlic and ripping it to shreds. ‘It doesn’t work. Nothing works if the devil wants to take you. Nothing.’
Andreas crossed himself in the dark and prayed his mother was wrong.
11
‘Hello, Your Holiness, it’s Andreas Kaldis. Sorry to bother you again.’
‘No need to keep apologizing, my son. We’re way past that. So, what fresh hell have you brought me today?’ There was a lightness to the Protos’ voice. It wasn’t what Andreas expected.
‘I’m glad to hear you’re sounding better.’
‘It is Easter Week, our holiest time, and all our trials must be measured against the ultimate sacrifice. Besides, I may never have the chance to use that Dorothy Parker “fresh hell” line again.’
‘I hope you’re not right about the “hell” part,’ whoever Dorothy Parker was. ‘I understand one of the monasteries is not part of the Holy Community.’
‘Yes, sadly that is true. Although we are hopeful they will return.’
‘But there are twenty abbots in the photograph taken at your ceremony. Did its abbot attend?’
‘Yes. In fact, that day was the first step toward a hoped-for reconciliation.’
‘What made your rogue monastery suddenly see the light?’
The Protos cleared his throat. ‘I would not call it a rogue monastery, just slightly overzealous in pursuing its alternative beliefs on church policy.’
Spoken like a true politician. Andreas waited, there had to be more coming. Teachers were like that.
‘We owe it all to Kalogeros Zacharias.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘A monk in that monastery, but a very special man. Although relatively young, he has great patience, humility, and skills. He gained the trust of his abbot and ultimately convinced him to attend the ceremony out of respect to the 1,100-year-old office of protos.’
Guess Maggie was right.
‘That was not an easy feat to achieve. That abbot was the reason his monastery withdrew in the first place, and he is a man of, shall we say, strong opinions. He never got along with any protos before me. Some say our few steps forward are my doing, but they are all thanks to Zacharias.’
‘What do you know about Zacharias?’
‘He’s very well educated, speaks a half-dozen languages, and came to Mount Athos in the mid-nineties.’
‘From where?’
‘I don’t know his origins, but his passport is Swiss. I know because he once asked me if he should obtain a Greek passport