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no visible show of temper, although his manner did undergo a change and an
unpleasantly metallic glint entered his eyes.
'It would be a pity to destroy such beauty,' he commented after a small
silence. 'I have never met a woman I desired so much as I desire you.'
'Obviously not. You never married any of them!'
'My wife--' He murmured the two words, then repeated them, as if to impress
them firmly upon his mind. Sarah stared at him in the dim light, aware of
some strange emotion stirring within her. She suddenly knew that he was
deriving pleasure from the sound of the words ... and she watched,
fascinated by the change taking place in his expression in fact, in his
whole demeanour. Whatever his private thoughts they transformed him, and
without warning he seemed to become possessed of considerable charm.
Gone was the austerity, the haughty composure, the hard metallic glitter in
his eyes. Leaning forward a little, Sarah took up her coffee cup and
pensively sipped its contents. Without warning the air seemed charged, and
she found herself once more owning to being on the edge of a new realm
and, as before, she had the strange unfathomable sensation of being afraid to
go forward, yet reluctant to go back. Bewildered greatly by these
impressions and sensations, she tried to shake them off, angry with herself
because she knew, deep in her subconscious, that she was shirking an
analysis of her hatred for this Greek who was now her husband. On the
surface her hatred was so strong that, given an opportunity, she could have
struck him a mortal blow, in order to gain her freedom; conversely, she had
the startling impression that were she to explore the depths of her
subconscious mind, she would have doubts as to the strength of this hatred.
The silence lasted, and became more charged with pvery moment that
passed. And eventually she knew she must break it, must try to discover this
man's mind.
'What are you thinking?' she asked, putting down her cup and picking up her
glass.
His gaze was transferred to her face.
'Are you really interested, I wonder?' he spoke broodingly and almost to
himself. 'Have you any interest at all in me?'
She stiffened, but could not have given a reason.
'That,' she returned curtly, 'is an exceedingly odd thing to ask.'
'So was your question odd.' The black eyes flickered. 'Do you want to know
what my thoughts were, Sarah?'
She frowned, and made no answer for a while. She listened instead to the
chirp of the cicadas in the stunted olive trees, and the distant sound of
goat-bells on the bare brown earth of the mountain foothills. The moon was
a crescent hanging in argent, splendour among the stars. The sky itself was
cloudless and soft.
'I merely wanted to break the silence,' Sarah admitted at last, seeing that her
husband was awaiting her reply to his question. 'It was was an
uncomfortable silence,' she added on a slow and quiet note.
'Uncomfortable?'
She shrugged impatiently, and took a drink.
'I can't explain.'
'You don't want to try.' He fell silent again, his eyes staring straight ahead to
the rough skyline of Taygetus, and, following the direction of his gaze,
Sarah picked out the tall straight shape of a solitary tower, perched upon a
stony ledge, similar to that on which Charon's tower was set. Her glance
swayed around, to one or two other towers, standing, stark and straight, like
sentinels of a bygone age. All were in a state of disuse, and the more she
thought about it the more she became convinced that Charon's tower had
also fallen into disuse before he decided to renovate it a little. Her
deductions brought two questions in their wake: where had he lived prior to
taking up residence at the tower? And what had been the reason for
renovating it and deciding to live there?
She sat back in her chair, strangely absorbed by the mystery which she
herself was weaving around this dark pagan whom she had been forced to
marry. He was so strange a personality, a quiet unfathomable man whose
entire family had been willing to turn against him. His defence of her,
causing him to resort to marriage when he could so easily have given her up.
From what she had gathered he had had many women. To lose one surely
meant nothing to him. But the thought of losing her certainly had. meant
something to him. The more she dwelt on the circumstances of the marriage
the more deeply enmeshed she became, and it was a relief when Charon,
coming out of his own reverie, brought her from hers by suggesting they
take their usual evening stroll. Surprised for she had not expected his
patience to last much longer, she immediately nodded and said she would
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