The 34th Degree

24

“I hate him, Father John,” Aphrodite told the priest with tears in her eyes. “I hate what he’s done to me and what I’ve become. But I love my family. If I stop pleasing him, who knows what will become of them?”

Father John shrugged. “That, only the Lord knows. All I can tell you is that making peace with the devil is no way to seek God’s favor.”

“What choice do I have, Father?” There was anger in her voice.

He raised his hand, and she caught the glint of a fisherman’s knife. “You could always kill the swine.”

She sighed. “If only that would release my brother or provide an escape for me and my parents. But Ludwig is the only protection we have from the Gestapo.” She hesitated. “Besides, you’re forgetting that I tried that once before, remember?”

He put the knife away, crossed himself, and sighed in despair. “And what happened?”

“He told me he liked that in a woman.”

Father John shook his head in utter disbelief. “Truly, this man is possessed!”

“No, Father, I’m the one who’s possessed. That’s the problem. I’m the personal property of Baron Ludwig von Berg.” She felt rage and despair and humiliation at her helplessness. “If only the Allies would hurry up and start the liberation. Greece would be free. My brother would be free. I would be free.”

Father John nodded sympathetically. “I wish the Lord would come today and fix Hitler, but he hasn’t,” he said. “The Lord is not a genie, granting our every wish. His thoughts are not our thoughts, nor our ways His ways.” Father John raised his other hand, which was missing two fingers. He, like other Orthodox priests, had fought against the Italians and Bulgarians along the northern frontiers on the mainland, just across the channel. During the winter in the mountains, he’d lost his fingers to the cold. Most other men lost more: hands, legs, their lives, but worst of all, their souls.

“So what are you saying, Father?”

“Sometimes the only thing we can do is wait. You must endure. The Lord is not wringing His hands, wondering what to do about Hitler. He knows exactly what He’s going to do with that Antichrist.”

“Well, I wish He’d hurry up,” she replied. “I don’t know how much longer I can last. One of the guards has acted inappropriately toward me, and I fear for his life should the Baron find out. And my own.”

He paused. “What about this Greek you are betrothed to?”

“Christos? He’s half a world away.” There was bitterness in her voice. “In the beginning I used to pray that he would come and rescue me from all this. I was just being a silly girl, of course; Greek women know better than to trust the men in our lives. They’re either oppressive, like the Baron, or impotent to help me, like my father, my brother, and Christos. I’m afraid you and the archbishop in Athens are the only two men in my life who haven’t let me down yet. Now please bless me, Father, for I’m about to sin.”

She knelt before him.

“You are a remarkable woman, Aphrodite Vasilis,” Father John said with admiration and resignation. “Let us pray to the Lord.” He placed the end of his stole on her head and prayed.

“O Lord God, show Thy mercy upon Thy servant Aphrodite, and grant unto her an image of repentance, forgiveness of sins, and deliverance, pardoning her every transgression, whether voluntary or involuntary.”

He placed his right hand on the stole over her head and pronounced Absolution. “May our Lord and God Jesus Christ, through the grace and bounties of His love toward mankind, forgive thee, my child, Aphrodite, all thy transgressions. And I, His unworthy priest, through the power given unto me by Him, do forgive and absolve thee from all thy sins. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

She watched his hand as he made the sign of the cross over her. He was waiting for her to give thanks to God for His goodness, as was the Orthodox way, when they heard the ominous roar of an engine.

“He’s back,” she said grimly, and rose from her knees.

They stepped outside onto the terrace and looked to the sky. Bursting out of a cloud was the Baron’s plane. It came in low over the lagoon and passed over the tiny church like a giant vulture.

“Any parting words of wisdom, Father?”

“Resist this man.”

“God knows I’ve tried, Father. I can’t promise you I won’t sleep with him when I know what means he’ll use to force me. I won’t deny it. I won’t lie to God.”

“Then at least thank God for His forgiveness and promise Him you’ll do your best to resist this man.”

She sighed and lowered her eyes. “O almighty and merciful God, I truly thank Thee for the forgiveness of my sins,” she recited impatiently. “Bless me, O Lord, and help me always, that I may ever do that which is pleasing to thee, and sin no more. Amen.”

She lifted her eyes and watched the plane clear the trees at the end of the lagoon and drop out of view. Hans was furiously waving her back to shore, and Peter was halfway toward the monastery in a rowboat. The Baron was back in time for afternoon siesta, and he would want her comfort.