Man Without Honour Read online

  'They're undoubtedly pagan,' he ended finally.

  'Are all Greek dances pagan in origin?' Kathryn was grateful for his intervention.

  'Most of them are a link with antiquity, yes. The dance was an integral part of their pagan religion, and, according to the expert on Greek dances, Dora Stratou, they have preserved their original movements in their entirety, all the archaic elements still intact.'

  Kathryn, intensely interested, avidly wanted to hear more about the Greek dances. Leon told her about the dances of various regions of Greece, explaining how they differed from district to district.

  'The dances of the Ionian islands are light and graceful, with swaying and gliding movements, while those of Epiros are more vigorous and heavy and are, therefore, rather slow. In Crete you see the war dance, the pendozalis, and until recently the dancers, all men of course, were armed. On the island of Cyprus the dancers often face one another, and here you have men dancing alone or women dancing alone. Not very often do men and women dance together.'

  'It's strange to me,' she said, smiling. 'This separation of the sexes is very evident—with men everywhere and the women being conspicuous by their absence.'

  He laughed with his eyes and Kathryn caught her breath. How devastatingly attractive he was when he laughed like that!

  'The women are at home, cooking and mending and having babies,' he said. 'The men spend a great deal of their time in tavernas, playing tavla and drinking ouzo.'

  Kathryn relapsed into silence, wondering what he did for a living. She found herself wondering about his home life, too, if he had brothers and sisters, a father and mother. She felt sure he had no wife, or even a girlfriend about whom he was serious. Other women friends… ? Well, she had heard about the Greeks and their pillow-friends, and she felt she would be very naive indeed if she tried to convince herself that a man with the personality and obvious virility of Leon Coletis was living the celibate life.

  The waiter was at their table again, removing the plates and all the side dishes, while another refilled their wineglasses, then handed them the menu so that they could choose their dessert.

  Leon had the cheese board but Kathryn chose a fresh-fruit concoction composed of banana and pineapple slices and wedges of watermelon topped with cherries, cream and walnuts.

  'That was delicious!' Kathryn leant back with a contented sigh when she had finished, her eyes on the musicians, watching them individually—the man with the lute and the other with a clarinet. One man played a violin and the fourth a dulcimer-like instrument whose strings were struck by cotton-covered mallets.

  'You're full, obviously,' commented Leon, who, Kathryn had noticed, had eaten sparingly.

  'It was a lovely lunch. Thank you very much, Leon, for bringing me here.'

  'A pleasure,' he returned, smiling. 'I little thought, this time yesterday, that I'd be here today, having lunch with a charming English girl. But there you are; one never knows what fate has in store for one.'

  Kathryn coloured and lowered her lashes, shy all at once beneath his flattery. Was it genuine? Was she a gullible fool and he a wolf? She had heard a bit about Greek men, and how all they thought about was sex, which was why they stared so, with prolonged insolence, uncaring that you were staring back with contempt. Leon was not like that at all, although he did cast his eyes over her figure now and then, but with an appreciative glance, certainly not a sensual one. She was perfectly at her ease with him, thoroughly enjoying his company, feeling she had known him for weeks rather than hours.

  At last they left the inn and sauntered over to the car park. The ground was rough, with small boulders strewn about, and Kathryn, although treading with care, managed to step upon one of these boulders and would have overbalanced if Leon hadn't seen what was happening and caught her before she fell. He brought her up against him; she felt the muscular hardness of his body, the strength of his arms, the cool clean breath that came from between lips that were touching her cheek.

  'Oh… thank you!' she gasped, her heart pulsating at his nearness. 'I would have fallen…' She stopped and winced and glanced down at the ankle she had twisted.

  'Did you hurt yourself?' asked Leon quickly.

  'It's only my ankle. I wrenched it, I think, but it's nothing.'

  'You'd better get into the car, and I'll take a look at it,' he said peremptorily. 'I hope you haven't sprained it.'

  She hastily reassured him that no such injury had occurred, but limped painfully as they made their way over to where the car was parked beneath the shade of a clump of cypress trees. Leon told her to sit sideways on the seat so that he could examine the ankle.

  'No, it's not sprained,' he pronounced after pressing and probing with his fingers. Kathryn, trying to retain an air of sophisticated calm, found instead that her pulses were hammering, her emotions wildly out of control. She looked down onto the top of his dark head as he bent over her foot, saw the broad, arrogant shoulders, dark-skinned beneath the thin white summer shirt he was wearing. He glanced up as he spoke, and his lips twitched because her cheeks were fused with delicate colour.

  Perceptively, he knew she was deeply affected by the touch of his hands on her bare flesh. Slowly he straightened his lithe-limbed body to stand for a long moment regarding her with a strange expression in those darkly foreign eyes. Kathryn swallowed to get rid of the dryness affecting her throat. It was a tense and profoundly intimate situation even though he was not now touching her, and some thread of unconscious thought convinced Kathryn that Leon was as deeply affected as she. Did he like her? she asked herself again. Yes, she had already decided that much. Was it more than liking she saw written on his face at this moment… ?

  Chapter Three

  Another three days sped by on golden wings, with Leon and Kathryn spending every available moment together, taking sightseeing trips during the early part of the day when it was reasonably cool, then returning to Nauplia around three o'clock to spend the rest of the afternoon sunbathing on the beach and swimming in the clear blue sea. They dined at the hotel, then danced or watched the cabaret. Lastly they strolled in the cool, sweet-smelling garden, beneath an enormous moon and with the heady scents of flowers wafting about on the zephyr of a breeze coming down from a pine-scented hillside!

  They kissed and embraced; Kathryn sensed a vigorously passionate nature beneath the strict control which Leon exercised over himself. They learned about one another—he that she was an orphan living in a flat, she that Leon owned a villa in Athens, that his business was tobacco and wine. He did not tell her at this stage that he owned all the tobacco-growing lands through which they had passed on their way to Mycenae, or the vinyards through which they had driven on another occasion. In fact, when she considered just how much he had told her about himself, she realised that it was very little indeed. But she herself had been fairly restrained as well, not going into any depth of detail about her life.

  He was still exceedingly interested in the ring and had asked her again if she would sell it. She had refused.

  'It's no use asking me,' she told him, firmly but with a hint of apology in her voice, 'because nothing would induce me to sell it.' She could have mentioned that she might one day give it away, to whoever had the rest of the set, but having voiced the lie that it had been in the family a long while, she naturally refrained from doing so. He had frowned rather darkly on her second refusal and a little access of dejection had fallen upon her as she realised that her refusal had actually angered him. She found herself recalling an earlier conviction that whatever this man wanted, he would get. Well, much as she liked him, Kathryn had not the slightest intention of wavering in her resolve not to part with the ring unless she found someone who had the other items in his possession. Not that she believed in the curse, but that had nothing to do with it anyway. This ring belonged with its fellows, and it would give Kathryn intense satisfaction if ever she did happen to come across the person who owned the rest of the jewellery.

  Not that she cherished
any real hope of doing so, but one never knew.

  'I'd give you a very good price for it,' Leon had said, his manner persistent in spite of her firm refusal to part with the ring.

  'I don't need the money,' she had assured him and watched his straight black brows lift as if he did not for one moment believe her.

  'Everyone needs money,' he said reasonably. 'I'd give you far more than its market value.'

  But Kathryn was shaking her head even before he had stopped speaking. 'Please don't keep asking me,' she begged. 'The ring is not for sale.' But she did wish she had not voiced that impulsive lie, for then it would have been possible to explain to him her reason for not wanting to part with the ring. However, she had voiced the lie, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  More golden days passed. Leon took Kathryn to Tiryns, whose ancient past was reputed to be as distinguished as that of Mycenae. Legend had it that the city was built with the aid of the Cyclopes and, therefore, it must have been in existence before the founding of Mycenae. Kathryn, amazed by the thickness of the mighty walls, could very well imagine those giants having had a hand in the construction of the fortress.

  'These walls,' Leon told her, 'were considered to be a wonder equal to the pyramids of Egypt.'

  'They must have been incredible in their day!'

  'The whole thing was incredible. There was a beautiful palace, with a vast courtyard behind it, and numerous buildings for the craftsmen necessary for the upkeep of such an enormous establishment. Come on,' he added, taking her hand in his, 'let us climb this staircase and look at the view from the top.'

  Other trips included Argos and Corinth, and always there were the interludes spent on the beach, where, fanned by the cool breeze after the drive across the torrid plain, Kathryn invariably found herself lost in a world of sublime lassitude. There were other extremely pleasant afternoon interludes taken in a shady garden cafe where Kathryn and Leon would chat as they drank tea and ate sticky confections smothered in fresh whipped cream and nuts.

  'Oh, but I shall remember this holiday for the rest of my life!' Kathryn made the exclamation one night when, after dining and dancing until after midnight, they emerged from the ballroom into the exotic atmosphere of the starlit gardens. 'I never thought it would be anything like this!'

  Leon took her in his arms as soon as they were in their little secret place, and his hard lips possessed hers with the mastery that had thrilled her from the very first night.

  'I'm glad you've enjoyed it as much as I have, Kathryn.' His voice vibrated with supressed ardour. During the time they had been together his manner had become more and more lover-like, and less and less restrained in the way he kissed and embraced her. His hard, muscular body had come to be familiar to her, and she accepted with a sort of joyful resignation the fact that he would hurt her, physically, by the passionate strength of his lovemaking. There had been moments of temptation, and one or two of real danger, for Kathryn was no iceberg, although she had never even realised the height of her own ardour until she met Leon.

  But he had been a gentleman throughout, much to her surprise, as in the very beginning there it had certainly occurred to her that she might find Leon wanting what she was unwilling to give. Had that turned out to be the case, it would without a doubt have been the end of the friendship.

  One morning they explored the town of Nauplia, beginning with a stroll along the waterfront. It faced the land-locked gulf, and in the bay rose the Venetian castle of Bourdzi. Kathryn asked Leon if he knew anything about it and was told it was originally used as a fortress but, later, it became a home for retired executioners, a retreat for hangmen.

  'But today it is a rather special kind of hotel,' he added finally.

  Kathryn's eyes strayed again to the fortified islet. 'Why did the executioners want to live there?' she asked, puzzled.

  'They didn't want to,' corrected Leon. 'But they weren't allowed to live in the town; the populace wouldn't have them.'

  'Oh, they regarded them as… well… contaminated, did they?'

  'I expect so. Whatever the reason—and I feel it might have had its roots in superstition—these men were made to live apart from their fellows.'

  'And now it's an hotel… I don't think I'd care to stay there,' decided Kathryn with a slight shudder which brought a twitch of amusement to her companion's lips.

  'Ghosts can't harm you, child,' he said.

  'No—for if they could, then no one would ever go up to the Acropolis of Mycenae,' she returned.

  'Or most of the ancient sites of Greece.' They were leaving the harbour to wander towards the town itself, with its cafeneions and shops, its cinema that had once been a Turkish mosque, its Turkish fountain at the end of a steep alley.

  'Can we look at the shops?' Kathryn put the question tentatively after they had strolled along in silence for a while, a companionable silence which was a new delight to her, since she had never experienced this 'oneness' with anyone before in the whole of her life. She seemed to be walking on air, resolutely refusing to admit that there was any time but the present. 'I know that men hate shops,' she added when Leon did not speak. 'And so if you—'

  'I shall be delighted to look at the shops with you,' he interrupted. But he took her first to Constitution Square, where they sat beneath the shelter of the trees and drank chilled fresh orange juice. Most of the tables were occupied by locals, all men, smoking and drinking, playing tavla or fingering their worry beads, clicking them rhythmically from one end of the string to the other. Every eye was directed towards Kathryn as she and Leon walked through the medley of tables and chairs and people to take possession of a vacant table. Kathryn was by now used to these male stares, but at times wished she had brought a sack with her!

  Time sped on relentlessly as one golden day followed upon another, and eventually Kathryn, living as she was in an ecstatic dream whose end she refused to contemplate, awoke one sunny morning to the knowledge that there were only three days left.

  She showered and dressed in cool flowered' linen—a sun-top above brief shorts, with an overskirt split to the waist at the left side. Her sandals were blue, to match the sprays of cornflowers running along the hem of the skirt; her bag was white, as was the Alice band she wore, which was more decorative than useful in keeping her long russet-brown hair in order. The breeze invariably played havoc with it, but Leon seemed to find the windblown effect more than a little attractive.

  'You're not all joy today,' observed Leon later as, hand-in-hand, they wandered about the theatre of Epidaurus after having driven the sixteen miles from Nauplia as soon as breakfast was over. 'What's wrong, my love?'

  My love! Kathryn lifted her beautiful eyes to his, seeking, pleading, desiring… She had no idea just when she had accepted the fact that she had fallen headlong in love with this handsome foreigner; all she did know was that, on waking this morning, she had admitted to a terrible fear, fear of the loneliness ahead, of a life into which no other man would ever enter. For her heart was lost, irretrievably, to a man she had known for only two and a half weeks. And now, as she caught and held his gaze, she was willing him to say the words she wanted to hear… words that would send her spirits soaring to the clouds.

  She had no qualms, no cautious urge to probe deeper into Leon's background. He was true and dependable, an honourable man. She knew it instinctively and she believed at this moment that nothing—absolutely nothing—could ever shake her faith in him. He had stopped, and, oblivious of any tourists who might be around at this fairly early hour, Leon bent to kiss her on the mouth. 'What is it, my little Kathryn?' he murmured as he drew away.

  'I…' What was there to say in answer to his question? A man could say what was in his heart; he could ask her to marry him. But she was only a woman, and equality had not yet progressed to the point where a woman could make a proposal of marriage. Oh, she could, of course, but it would not be the thing! Leon would open his eyes in astonishment… and probably shy away, to escape while the going
was good! So much for what the optimists of her sex called equality of the sexes, thought Kathryn, though not with any bitterness. She would not have proposed to Leon even if she had the right; she was old-fashioned enough to want to hear him propose and herself giving him her answer. But to look upon the situation realistically, she had no proof that Leon felt for her what she felt for him. This holiday, taken in the interesting and highly romantic atmosphere of ancient Greek culture, was the perfect setting for a flirtation… and Kathryn very much feared that Leon regarded what had passed between them as nothing deeper than that.

  She had no one to blame for her foolishness in falling in love with him. He had never really tempted her; what she had given had been given freely, because she had wanted his kisses, his embraces, those endearing murmurs into her eager ears out there in the moonlit gardens of the hotel. They had found a secret little place among the trees, where pine needles provided a carpet, a fallen tree trunk a couch, and the argent moon all the light they needed.

  'You haven't answered my question, Kathryn.' Leon's gentle voice drifted into her thoughts and she let fall a quivering sigh that caused his eyes to narrow perceptively.

  'It's nothing,' she said at last. 'I suppose one always feels slightly depressed when a lovely holiday is nearing its end.'

  'There are others to come. That's the way I always look at it.'

  So casual, he sounded, and Kathryn's heart sank. Fool that she was, even to cherish one atom of hope that her feelings were reciprocated.

  'You're right,' she returned, forcing a smile to her lips. 'There's always another time.'

  'Shall you come to Greece again, Kathryn?'

  'Of course…' But she allowed her voice to trail away to silence, for she was not sure she could come again, not with these memories being so precious. No other visit would be the same. She thought that even were she to visit another part of the country altogether, she would be constantly reminded of Leon.