Son of Xanos

By Rodney St Clair Ballenden

Rebellion and political upheaval form the backdrop to the formative years of Rodino Xanos. At a very early age he is catapulted by the chaos of the Greek civil wars of 1947 into a world of instability and distrust. When his father is executed he escapes into the mountains. Taken in by the gypsies and betrayed by his friend he is handed over to the communist partisans. There he meets Lieutenant Ellery of the American armed forces who introduces him to the thrill of language and personal communication. Later Lieutenant Ellery adopts Rodino as his own son and changes his name to Roland Carter to better bond in an all American society. At the onset of the Vietnam conflict Roland is repatriated as an American citizen to a Christian college in Chattanooga. However, his restless spirit flies in the face of a disciplined study routine and he drops out of all formal education. On the road he meets a Red Indian shaman and is introduced to the truths of the Medicine Wheel which haunt his onward journey to Switzerland, through the French student riots of 1968 and the running of the bulls in Spain. Only when he returns to Greece does he stop to take account of his wanderings and the lessons learned to fix himself in a Universe of meaning and purpose.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rodney St Clair Ballenden
• Release date: Apr 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311100443

Rodney St Clair Ballenden

Rodney St Clair Ballenden was born in Nairobi, Kenya, in 1947. In lieu of an academic career he traveled extensively through Europe, the United Sates of America and Greece. He married Colleen and returned to South Africa to farm, but the call of the wild drew him into a hermit existence placing him in extreme situations exposed to danger and the vagaries of storm and wind. From his observations on man and his relationship with the wilderness he began to write, and his books are available on the SmashWord platform as well as at Amazon. Rodney now lives in Greece.

Book preview

SON of XANOS

by

Rodney St Clair Ballenden

First book in the Shades of Seers series

to Colleen who opened the way

For the bear to have her pups the winter must come and in the spring they emerge to give birth to our dreams. It is the image of the falling leaves. So the journey begins. And one day you may kill your dignity and the very next play with your children in the sun. There are many who follow that path. There are few who are one. Now, my son, tomorrow I will show you why you have come but, I cannot answer until the question has been asked.

as told by Lee Begay from Crow Rock, Arizona Desert

Contents:

Book One: Crete

Book Two: Northern Greece - The Civil War & Athens

Book Three: United States of America

Book Four: Switzerland – Spain – Italy

Book Five: Greece

Book One: Crete

Rodino sits on the corner of the goat enclosure, the tinkling of bells and angry snorts warn him to look lively: the time to go is now.

Come father, you promised, and he raises his voice against the wind.

The goat herd jostle each other around the gate expecting to be led out into the field and Big Billy, the dominant male, paws the ground demanding attention.

Wait Billy! Rodino snaps, banging his heels against the stone wall.

His father had warned him not to open the gate until he arrived, and now the sun stands three fingers above the horizon. He too hates waiting and the impatient scowl on his face is a deliberate mark of his anger. He has seen his father look like that and he wants to be the same. Tough and smart and all grown up. He stands, lifting himself nimbly onto the balls of his feet, and holds his shoulders erect and proud, posing to his own shadow on the ground. At ten years of age, Rodino is too young to know when the tears will come. He is a small boy but, only in stature. He takes after the island of his birth, his thoughts are as big as the sky and his courage is as big as the mountains. Wherever he goes he takes the biggest steps. If the space closes down on him he runs. His eyes are as bright and green as the first buds of spring. He sees everything, even in the dark, and walks tall even when carrying the heaviest rocks to repair the enclosure. His small frame is already tough, his skin darkened by the sun. His lips are tight but, the sound from his mouth is big, swollen by the blood of his bearing.

Rodino is the only son of Pitre Xanos and will be the only son forever.

He gazes down the path, willing his father to appear. The heat rises from the ground like an iron horse from the fire. The rocky landscape dips sharply away, holding the path for a brief moment before tumbling out of sight. The cliff-face is too sheer to be seen from on top of the goat enclosure and the sea appears to be level with the land and then the sky appears to be level with the sea. Rodino boasts that it is the rocks he places in the walls that keep the sea from rushing in to drown them all.

Rodino lives with the wrecks of war. Scattered across the barren fields around his home are the reminders of the German occupation of Crete during the Second World War. A burnt boot half hidden under the sand walks no more. A pair of sunglasses warped and twisted from the heat of battle no longer frightens him. He even tried them on once but, threw them away in disgust. The rusting hulk of a German tank gapes sightlessly into the merciless heavens. Behind the tank three fallen soldiers lie beneath their pile of stones. There are no crosses to mark their passing. Only nameless ghosts wander this lonely place and only the cheated gods from other realms come here in search of their lost ones.

As soon as he could crawl Rodino had explored these battlefields. They were his only playground until he was strong enough to stand on his own two feet and tend to the goats. But he never dared more than one step beyond the outer wall, never. Now he dreams of accompanying his father into the mountains and vows not to cry even if his legs hurt or his lips crack from thirst.

I am not a little boy, he growls, leaping from the wall to prove it.

Pitre strides along the narrow path leading from the village of Sphakia to the Xanos homestead. It runs perilously close to the very edge of the cliff where far below the sea rushes ashore to smash against the rocks. This is Crete, the Crete of Pitre’s birth and the place where sky touches earth and life erupts. Along this forsaken coast mankind burns insane in the twisted wreckage of his dreams.

Prepare ye for the suffering, the old folk say. Crete is life. To be born here is the only cure for the sickness of the gods.

Pitre swings his arms effortlessly against the steepness of the climb, his coat-tails flapping in the breeze. He wears his beret at a cocky angle, a sure sign of importance, his shirt tied around his waist, a sure sign that the importance is wearing off. As he walks he wipes his brow with his faded old bandana. Then he wipes his whole face before knotting the scarf around his neck again. He is a powerfully built man and the heavy army boots strapped to his feet pound the earth relentlessly. He claims the distance to his place of work, his wife and children, and his beloved home with sure intent.

His beret cap breaks the horizon. He sees Rodino and waves.

Rodino comes bounding down the path to greet him.

I see you Papa. I see you, he shouts, waving frantically to be seen.

Pitre’s greeting is brief and formal. He hugs Rodino and then spins him around to face back up the path.

Open the gate, son, he says, keep them out of the gully, you hear me. Rodino, be careful, he shouts.

A Greek army troop convoy, flying the colour of the new socialist party, grinds past in the distance. The soldiers sing, the sound of the bouzouki loud and merry. Pitre spits into the palm of his hand and turns away.

Inside the house, Felice Xanos washes baby Maria in the kitchen sink. Maria was still in her mother’s womb when the soldiers were fighting outside, and even though it is now June 1946, her eyes dart nervously to the slightest sound, especially when the door bangs shut. Apolonia, the eldest child, stands on a chair putting soap in Maria’s mouth and Maria giggles, reaching up to catch Apolonia’s long black hair.

Pitre enters and drinks water from the barrel in the corner and kisses Felice behind the ear saying, trouble’s coming. He sits at the kitchen table and tears off a hunk of bread. I must go away, he says.

Felice ignores him and attends to Maria.

The kids are old enough, Pitre continues, this time you are not alone.

Felice hangs her head over the sink and asks, When is this going to stop, her voice desperate yet resigned to the inevitable.

The day we win, Pitre replies.

He hurries into the bedroom to pack his kit and returns to the kitchen dressed in his Royalist Army uniform, a rifle slung over his shoulder, his beret tipped back on his head. He kisses Felice warmly on the lips.

I love you, he says.

Apolonia pulls a tongue at him and he pulls one back and they laugh. He grabs the bread and a hunk of cheese and leaves.

Outside, Rodino pretends to be a wolf and chases the goats away from the gully. Pitre whistles and all the goats run to him. Rodino stands at a distance staring at his father, knowing the meaning of that army uniform and the rifle.

You look after Mama, Pitre says, and don’t fight with Apolonia. When I get back, we will go into the mountains, just you and me.

Don’t be late, Papa! Today you were late, Rodino says.

Pitre makes a fist and Rodino makes two fists and holds them above his head and their goodbye is done.

Pitre walks back along the same winding path, dropping down steeply to the village of Sphakia. Rodino stands frozen to the spot, his eyes closed, listening to the whistles of his father growing ever dimmer until all he can hear is the sea crashing against the shore.

Life is hard for Felice and her children without the support and protection of Pitre. In this place of the forgotten a strong leader is needed; someone to hold the darkness at bay and ward off the spirits of the damned. She struggles against the uncertainty of tomorrow and doubts her own ability to meet the challenges facing her. The long summer days drive her indoors and her nights become lonely vigils of silence.

One morning while Rodino cleans the feeding bins, the goats wander out of the enclosure. Rodino panics, throwing a bucket at them, and they flee into the open fields. The louder Rodino whistles and shouts the more they run. They careen this way and that ever closer to the gully, even Big Billy is spooked. Felice appears at the front door and shouts at Rodino. Apolonia shouts at him too and baby Maria starts to cry. Rodino runs for all his might, his gumboots slapping against his calves, and the scowl across his face deepens.

That night over supper, Apolonia pulls a tongue at him and he picks up a knife and points it at her. Felice slaps them both. She banishes them to their room and lies on the kitchen table and cries.

The children share a room. Maria’s cot hangs from the roof beams close to Apolonia’s bed while Rodino sleeps on the floor in the corner. Felice and Pitre’s room is at the end of the short passage with a door leading to the outside and the toilet. The shower is a low stone enclosure open to the rocky plains and the mountains. All of their social life takes place in the kitchen where they entertain themselves and their visitors. It is the biggest room and the warmest, and when the cold winds blow and the snows fall, everyone huddles around the stove. There is nowhere to hide in the kitchen. Unseen eyes stare and secret ears listen from every crack in the stones.

The goat enclosure is Rodino’s place of work. This is where he belongs and from sunrise to sunset he tends to the goats. They are his friends and he speaks out loud to them knowing each by name and sharing with them his thoughts and dreams. He respects Big Billy. There can only be one leader in matters of goat business and when Big Billy snorts, Rodino leaves to attend to his own human duties. When it comes to feeding, and that bucket appears from the little shed under the roof, then Rodino is king and all line up patiently at the trough, even Big Billy.

The vegetable garden is the only other place outside of the kitchen where the whole family gathers, baby Maria chewing the carrots while Apolonia digs for worms.

Felice drifts back indoors to sit in front of her dressing mirror, secure in her sacred space away from the scorching sun. She’ll sit for hours fixing things on her face Rodino never knew were broken. Her nose, eyebrows and lips all look perfect. But he sees her dabbing at mysterious spots intent on making them disappear. She combs her hair over and over again, her strokes long and gentle. Rodino lies in the corridor listening to her hum wondering what turns the music on in her heart. How can she be so fragile in the one place and so beautiful in another?

Apolonia caught him there and kicked him saying, don’t spy on mother, it’s rude.

And Rodino ran to the edge of the gully where his father had drawn a line on the ground and glared at the line willing it to move. But it didn't. It was stuck.

A heavy truck grinds towards the house and Rodino knows it brings more trouble. The day his father went away that same army truck had come. All the soldiers were singing and playing the bouzouki. Now they are silent and that means trouble. Rodino spits into the palm of his hand just as his father had done, then hurries into the house to warn his mother.

The truck stops in the yard and the soldiers jump to the ground, their buckles and weapons clinking.

Captain Markos Psarriti climbs from the cab, his tall figure unwinding from his cramped position. He adjusts the dark glasses on his face and signals two men to check the back of the house, then clicking his fingers at two other soldiers, he tells them to guard over the goat enclosure. He marches towards the front door; toe to heel, toe to heel, in perfect unison. Captain Markos Psarriti the professional officer comfortable in his command.

Rodino stands in the doorway determined not to allow the Captain to pass.

You do not belong here, Rodino says.

Felice snaps at him to stand aside and allows the Captain to enter. She lays the coffee cups and side plates on the table, becoming sociable and friendly in the twinkling of an eye.

We live here alone, she says to the Captain.

I know, he replies.

I suppose you know everything, Felice says.

I know that your husband is a loyal soldier.

Then do you know when he will be back?

The Captain jerks his head at the children meaning for them not to be listening in on his conversation. Felice ushers Apolonia to the door whispering in her ear, Run along my sweet one. I’ll call you, promise. You too Rodino. You have work to do. She closes the door, careful not to let the latch fall, and returns to the head of the table.

Your husband is often away, the Captain continues, his tone accusing.

He moves closer to Felice looking up into her face, his smile dancing in the sparkle of her eyes. The Captain takes off his hat placing it on the table.

Keeping his voice low, he continues, Your husband leaves his wife alone, and he allows the meaning to hang in the air. And teaches the little boy to run with the goats, he adds

Three soldiers amble into the kitchen and one of them snatches the flagon of wine from the shelf muttering to his colleagues that it will be sour by the end of summer if not drunk before.

Today we celebrate our great victory, the soldier says and pulls the cork from the flagon.

Hear! Hear! the other soldiers agree and they take it in turns to tip the flagon to their lips.

What victory, Felice wants to know. Every day I hear on the radio that the fighting continues.

We control the whole island, the soldier interrupts.

Then we are safe here, Felice replies and folds her arms in defiance.

Come with us, the Captain pleads, and bring the children.

Felice shakes her head, and the Captain takes Felice by the hand and leads her outside. Your husband can help us, he says. Those Germans who tortured the men and women of the village will soon arrive for their punishment and Pitre has information regarding one of them. If you come with us, the situation will be quickly resolved. Opa! Yasoo he shouts clicking his fingers like castanets. Let us dance to victory. You are too beautiful to stay alone, and he lifts Felice’s hand gracefully inviting her to dance. Please, he whispers in her ear, your husband will come to you. He is a good man just a little misinformed."

Felice stares at the Captain searching his face for the truth and he stares back, his eyes narrowing to frighten Felice into succumbing to his authority.

Suddenly she calls out to Rodino, come here my boy. We’re going.

She bundles Apolonia and Maria into the cab of the truck telling them that the war is over. The Captain says Papa is in the village, and her voice crackles with excitement. We must go to help him.

Maria sits in Felice’s lap, her little head looking this way and that at the loud banging and shouting of the soldiers and the noise of the engine and all the confusion. Apolonia clings to the front dash staring at the Captain.

Rodino locks the goats into the enclosure and runs after the truck as it turns in the yard. He grabs the hand of a soldier who hauls him onto the tail flap.

A rain storm brews and the wind rattles the gate into the enclosure. Dry grass rolls end over end across the courtyard and the desperate snorts of Big Billy are cast like empty shells against the rocks of the barren fields.

Taverna Aspri Méra is a hive of activity decked out in the flags and banners of the communist KKE and DSE party alliance, led by the mayor of Sphakia, Nikolaos Zachadis, a man steeped in his own importance and the power he affords his office. The main table, adorned with flowers and microphones, bears testament to the dignitaries who had sat there. The party conference is over and the delegates, including the village faithful, spill into the courtyard to celebrate their success and the decisions taken.

We will never be defeated, Nikolaos Zachadis had told them. We control our island. Beloved Crete is ours. And to back his claim he informs the people of the victories the Communist Armies had won in fierce battles against the Royalist forces across mainland Greece. They are on the run, he had said. We will drive them into the sea and I place Captain Marcos Psarriti in charge of consolidating our power. Your mandate today ensures that the rule of the KKE and DSE Alliance will stand firm. Victory is ours, he had bellowed.

Victory is ours, the crowd responded, waving and cheering madly.

Go forth.

Go forth.

And cleanse our beloved island.

Cleanse it.

That the scum of the Royalists will never return.

Never, the crowd hollered and burst into song.

The bouzouki plays and the wine flows. Waiters rush from table to table weaving in and out of the crowd. The cooks shout out orders, flames shoot from the grills, and the sound of crashing plates reverberates around the courtyard. At a corner table two British RAF personnel look on bemused and enchanted by the chaotic activity.

Felice and her family sit alongside Captain Markos Psarriti who leads the clapping and singing and even dances, much to the amusement of his men.

He takes the microphone over to Felice and leads her to the dance floor.

The flower of Sphakia, he introduces Felice. I am coming to know her...my soul is coming to know her as the flower of Sphakia. You do not know her, because she lives out of town. And not alone. Her husband currently marches somewhere. In the mountains I beleive. Somewhere far away.

Xanos, a man in the crowd shouts.

Indeed. And a Royalist. But wait...give her a chance. Listen, my friends, listen and you too will know why she is called the flower of Sphakia.

Captain Marcos bows graciously and smiles at Felice.

She breathes deeply holding the microphone to her lips and as the first notes ring out she lifts her head and sings: Oniro Pedión Tis Gitoniás(Dream of Urban Children) by Manos Hadjidakis. The crowd fall silent. An old peasant man cries unashamedly. The RAF personnel break their glasses and plates and even the ashtray in their appreciation of such a moving song. Rodino lies on the edge of the dance floor looking up at his mother, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Never has he seen her like this. Never has he heard her sing like this, and he vows never to forget the magic of this moment. Captain Markos walks among his men applauding and the crowd beg for more.

A commotion at the front door breaks the mood. Pitre barges his way in, dressed in the Royalist army uniform, the plumes on his hat majestic in the breeze. The communist KKE guards lock arms to block the way but, Pitre brushes them aside and advances across the dance floor.

Some of the village men are in sympathy with the Royalist cause and take off their communist hats and roll up the banners they were waving. Felice and Rodino stand side by side in utter horror at Pitre’s appearance.

And the Taverna falls silent.

Welcome Comrade Xanos, Nikolaos Zachadis says speaking into a microphone. Allow our brother to share a glass of wine, he continues raising his voice that the crowd may hear, let him celebrate with us, and he opens his podgy little arms in welcome.

An old man with yellow teeth pours Pitre a glass of Retsina and hands it to him with a sneer.

Yasou, Nikolaos Zachadis says and the rolls of fat under his chin wobble as he raises his glass.

Yasou, the crowd respond and they all drink.

Pitre remains rooted to the spot neither drinking nor advancing, his eyes burning with rage.

Everyone is welcome, Nikolaos Zachadis continues, we know that you are one of the few that follow the King. You even followed him into the mountains of Albania. Ha, my friend, a foolish decision not so. Now you return but your brethren did not, and he wipes his brow with his handkerchief. We congratulate you on your heroism, he says. The footprints of our heroes shape every rock on our beloved island. Come with us. Place your print upon those same rocks. Let us mark you down as one of our heroes, an ancient hero, one of courage and honour.

Come Comrade Pitre, Captain Markos interrupts. Fight for us. You know our cause is just.

Never! Pitre bellows.

He grabs Felice by the hand and calling Rodino and Apolonia to hold onto each other he drags them from the Taverna. In his haste he forgets baby Maria still sitting on the floor.

Baby Maria gurgles to the chaos around her. Her hands clap without touching and her eyes play ping-pong with the reverberating sounds.

Pitre rushes back into the Taverna and picks up Maria, holding her tightly to his chest.

I fight for God, he bellows in defiance, Long live the King.

The crowd erupt as one, Death to the King, they shout. Kill the Royalists. Thief. Murderer. Out! Out! Out!

You, Pitre points at the Mayor, you Nikolaos Zachadis, and Pitre points at each of the office bearers of the KKE-DSE party. You Dimitri Fiadadis and you, Konstantinos Vaszeri. Even you, Captain Markos, have trodden on our honour and deserted your own people. You are now the rich. You are the elite but, the village remains poor.

Ola! the old man who was crying when Felice was singing shouts out. Ola! he repeats and uncertainty ripples through the crowd.

Pitre parades in front of the throng inciting their support saying, these men have robbed us, they are loyal only to themselves. They line their pockets at our expense. Fight for them. Go on. Fight for them that they become rich and you die.

Ola! a part of the crowd responds.

The time has come for you to stand.

Ola! They cheer and more people join with each cheer.

Allow every man his dignity. Let us all go free. Go back to your work and make this island proud, proud to serve your families and feed your children, and wake up every morning proud to be a simple human being.

The crowd falls silent, knowing nobody can promise such freedom.

The old man with the yellow teeth shouts out, and when you are away Comrade Xanos who protects your family?

I do, says Rodino.

Nikolaos Zachadis laughs saying, I will buy your goats son and lighten your work, and the crowd laugh at the Mayor’s joke.

Pitre elbows his way out of the courtyard holding baby Maria and Felice follows. Apolonia half walks half runs and Rodino takes her by the hand to help her keep the pace.

The village is deserted and the footfalls of the Xanos family echo from the walls as they hurry away. The sky reverberates to the sound of aircraft overhead. Rodino looks up but, cannot see anything because of the low clouds and swirling mist. The wind gusts like a dragon before the gates of hell, and rain starts to fall.

Pitre and Rodino set up a vegetable garden inside the kitchen. It is late autumn and the cold fronts gather in the Ukraine and across the Balkans chilling the mountain streams and freezing the water pipes outside the house. After the confrontation with Nikolaos Zachadis and Captain Markos at the Taverna Aspri Méra, Pitre foresees the alienation of himself and his family from the Sphakia community. He decides to stay away from the village and be self-sufficient as he did during the famines of nineteen forty one and again in nineteen forty four. Then Rodino and Maria ate only the portion of one mouth and the adults saved more for tomorrow than fill their bellies in one meal. Now he has Rodino to help. Pitre encourages the boy to work harder by telling him how in the animal kingdom, the ants know of only one thing, to live and die for the good of the rest.

Together he and Rodino erect a series of shelves in the kitchen placing several seedling trays on each with a drip-pan underneath. All the overflow water from the sink collects in a crude canal led to the outside through a hole in the wall. Maria loves to splash in the canal and watch the water spreading under the kitchen table. She cries when Felice rescues her by lifting her into the air and swishing her around like a butterfly.

Pitre sows seeds in the vegetable trays and Rodino copies him but, without bothering about the straight lines for each of the rows.

Felice leans on Pitre’s back and purrs, the war is over my love. When Pitre does not answer, she moves away and snaps at him, You don’t fight for us, how stupid.

Pitre and Rodino build a small room at the back of the goat enclosure and fill it with fresh hay. Pitre explains the direction of the cold winds and the arc of the sun.

This is the warmest place, he says, the newborn kids will die if they are not warm. You must take care of them son.

Pitre scratches Big Billy behind the ear and Big Billy butts him demanding more and more and Pitre and Rodino jump onto the wall and tease Big Billy from a safer place.

That night after supper Pitre and Felice scrub the kitchen down and when the children are in bed, they cuddle together in front of the stove talking in low whispers and touching each other to confirm their peace.

I want to go out and do things, Felice whispers. Pitre nods in agreement. I want to meet people and have fun, Felice continues and Pitre nods even harder. Suddenly she pulls him closer and nibbles his ear. Love me, she whispers."

I want the same, Pitre says wiggling free.

Pitre takes Rodino on long walks along the coastline shepherding the goats to greener pastures further and further away from the house and the safety of their enclosure. They range as far as Rodino can go in a single day. Pitre shows him the paths leading to the sea and the sheltered ravines where he can wait out the summer storms.

The storms come in from the south, he warns Rodino and turns him to face south. See that big rock? and he lifts Rodino’s arm to point towards the big rock. That is south. The storms from the south are violent and will thrash you for days but, in winter you must stay indoors. We cannot hide from the cold. Nature will always warn you son. There are signs and you will learn to listen and take precautions. The goats will help. They know before you do. Watch Big Billy, his job is to warn you but, only you can make the decision. You can, my son, now you are old enough.

Pitre pulls Rodino closer to sit beside him on the rock.

One day you will be the head of our home and when that day comes I want you to be ready. This war is not good for us but, I must fight, because there are some bad men trying to destroy us and I must fight to save us from their hands. They mustn’t get hold of us son. When I am gone you will make the decisions and when you listen to nature you will make good decisions. I know that, Pitre says as he ruffles Rodino’s mop of wild hair. Wild huh my boy! Just like the wind, and they laugh.

On these outings Pitre and Rodino meet the local fishermen living in the alcoves and bays along the coast. These men climb the ravines with their goats and filter inland in search of pasture and wild herbs. They spend time alone celebrating the beauty of their island and gather information from passing farmers such as Pitre. He knows them all and to some he stops to talk, speaking of the coming winter and the sea and the changing times ahead. To others he touches his beret by way of greeting and keeps on walking. There is only one man he ignores completely, Elas Andreous, son of Miki Andreous.

Miki Andreous was a devoted communist of the DSE and fought for the Democratic Army of Greece under General Markos Vafiadis. Miki fell on the battlefield of Konitsa so Elas inherited the family farm and communist thinking of the Roumeli alcove. But unlike his father, young Elas scorns the courage to fight choosing instead the weapons of abuse and disrespect for those on the other side.

As chance would have it, Elas Andreous passes by on the other side of the ravine. He sees Pitre and Pitre sees him. They ignore each other. Fix their attention on a distant point and the air suddenly becomes frigid as if cut by an icy wind. And so, Rodino comes to know the tension between two men at war not over the land of their birth but, over the difference of their behaviour.

The war makes people bad, Pitre says.

He stops and indicates to Rodino the side of the ravine where Elas walks.

German soldiers came into this cove, he says, and they were bad men. No one saw them so they escaped but, we caught up with them on the mainland and wounded one in a fight. Now he is coming back here as our prisoner. They call it local punishment son and I know this punishment will not stop with just one bad man, because when a man fears for his life he will betray anyone just to save himself. After a long pause Pitre adds, And I won’t, my son. Never.

Rodino fidgets with his stick not wanting to hear anymore.

Pitre tugs him by the sleeve. We must hurry, he says, there’s a storm coming, and he veers off the path and stiffens his stride.

The way is treacherous in the gloom of the failing day. Rodino walks backwards after his father, staring across the ravine to where Elas Andreous had disappeared into the gorge, wondering if growing up