‘Stephanos wondered whether his host ever stepped on firm ground; most likely the Pasha was always being transported on a glorified stretcher with reinforced suspension and undercarriage. Stephanos knew of the avaricious nature and appetite of the man for food, flesh and disposal of rivals or those he did not like and of anyone who dared cross him or merely cause him displeasure after having crossed his path. Stephanos cautioned himself to be careful.
‘The Pasha was studying Stephanos with intense curiosity. Was he trying to guess Stephanos’ thoughts? “I can smell your fear. Why are you still standing? Nobody is allowed to tower above me. Now, come and sit down. I promise I will not harm you, at least not on my home ground and not until you have ceased to have your uses.” The Pasha certainly did not mince his words. Stephanos knew the rare and priceless value of the Pasha’s promises. “Zoe does me an honour. Sending her most faithful and favourite lieutenant, or is it perhaps her second favourite lieutenant? Hmm?”
‘Stephanos cursed under his breath. The Pasha certainly knew to hit where it hurt the most. Stephanos had always been sensitive where it came to his brothers. And he was prone to constantly playing the game of rivalry with them for his mother’s affections, admiration and respect. But now was not the place to admit his weakness, his jealousy.
‘He would not allow himself to get riled or rise to the Pasha’s petty challenge. He would deny the distasteful specimen of a man, if he could be defined as such, lounging before him, the pleasure of being proven successful in his deliberate attempt to force an extreme reaction that would demean Stephanos in the eyes of those present by exposing his biggest weakness. Stephanos kept quiet.
‘“Now, I have been told that my other honoured guest has decided to join us and grace our humble gathering and honour us humble servants with her high and mighty presence. Tasty morsel, isn’t she?” At that moment, I, Zozo Symitzis, proud daughter of Antonios Symitzis, was being brought in on a chair carried by the two giants that abducted me, my hands and feet tied. The Pasha paused and looked at me, smacking his lips at a delicious thought, a lascivious expression distorting his face that looked as if it couldn’t hold its shape together and was sagging fast, surrendering to the will and charms of gravity to the point of melting, if it did not burst first. “We cannot deny her the pleasure of our company, now can we? Now, Stephanos, do you have my other gift?” The Pasha paused and clapped his palms together with glee. “Oh, I am so lucky, twice blessed in one day. Allah must love me so.” But delivery of the Pasha’s second gift, me, Zozo, being the first, would have to wait a bit longer as shuffling, sighing and whistling (surprisingly as such expression of approval was punishable with death which luckily for them the Pasha chose to ignore) interrupted proceedings with the promise of some kind of entertainment organised by the Pasha. The revelation was more exquisite than even the highest expectations of those present.
‘Ten pairs of eyes followed me, fully and beguilingly transformed into a jewel, as I was paraded in front of the crew and then put down on the deck next to the Pasha and, as far as I was concerned, too close for comfort. I made no attempt of resistance to the Pasha’s suggestive and blunt caresses which also indicated to those present that I was his and his alone, and none other had any right to look at me in a hungry way let alone touch me. And of course the prohibition to look at me was literal as my face was half-covered. I knew the Pasha was at that moment my master of mercy that held my fate in his hands, the power of life or death over me. Stephanos kept his counsel and said nothing. But the Pasha was evidently becoming excited and the first signs of drooling were visible.
‘The Pasha continued to caress my arm ever more intensely and invitingly, which made it all the more impressive that my self-control kept me from flinching away from the Pasha’s reptilian caress and affection. The Pasha’s actions, his open declaration of his intentions, made Stephanos tremble in disgust at the thought that the Pasha was planning to take me there and then before a cheering crowd, oblivious to the disgust and jealousy such an act might provoke. Stephanos had no doubt his horrible suspicion was not far off from what was going on in the Pasha’s mind at that moment. The Pasha broke the strange moment and partly allayed Stephanos worst fears, or, at least, postponed them.
‘“Welcome my dear. I trust you are enjoying the refreshing sea foam. And the salty sea air will do wonders for your complexion and that lovely glossy hair. Don’t let any worries enter your pretty little head. And don’t get any funny ideas of escape, now will you?”
‘Stephanos had been witnessing this one-way exchange with acute interest. And now he felt his turn had come to speak. He opened his bag and took out a package wrapped in an unadorned white linen cloth. He bowed and extended his hand to the Pasha.
‘“Your highness, your gift as promised.”
‘The Pasha snatched it impatiently from Stephanos’ hand and rushed to unwrap it excited like a child whose wish had come true. After a few seconds admiring the icon, he looked at Stephanos. “You’ve done well, my dear Stephanos. You have been a great source of joy today. Now, it is time for you to collect your reward.” A subtle click of the fingers and a small bag carried by the Pasha’s attendant was dropped at Stephanos’ feet. Stephanos wanted to open it and look inside, but knew that such a gesture would be a sign of mistrust and an offence to the Pasha, so Stephanos refrained from any movement. He bowed once more and, politely, thanked his host. He made no attempt to stand up and leave, as his host had not yet dismissed him.
‘“Will you not open it to check the contents? Let me tell you that it’s over and above what we agreed.”
‘“I have no doubt your generosity will be beyond measure.” Stephanos smiled politely and conspiratorially and bowed with the reverence demanded of such an exulted personage as the Malenca Pasha, the holder of several records achieved through his physical appearance and his compulsive consumption of excess.
‘The Pasha allowed his vanity and his ego to be massaged. That was his weakness. He was accustomed to worship after all. He relished any attention lavished on him for whatever reason. “It is indeed. And you are not wrong there. It’s quite a bit more than what we agreed, more than your usual fee. But it was worth it.”
‘“I am glad to be of service to a great man such as yourself. I remain your humble servant. Just your honouring me with the pleasure of serving you is the greatest gift I could ever expect to receive.”
‘“I can see through your flattery and your use of the right words, but it pleases me, nonetheless. Now, enough business. I feel an expanding hole in my stomach, right here.” The Pasha indicated a tiny spot on his gargantuan barrel of a belly. Stephanos had an image of him at an attempt at belly dancing, and smiled inwardly, keeping a straight face, with not the slightest twist, tick or twitch, for the benefit of his host.
‘The Pasha could not be held from his meal any longer. “Let’s eat.” He said and swooped down on the food with no delay, even before Stephanos had a chance to see what was there. And before he knew it, more than half of the dishes had vanished into that cavernous cave of a mouth, through an ample and well-practised throat and pharynx, all the way down to his grateful gut, that other cavernous cave above his private parts which would, surely, by now have been absorbed into the folds of his bountiful flesh that hung like an extra attire. Oh, Stephanos just could not imagine it any more. Too descriptive, too gross.
‘With the bowls polished by the Pasha, and Stephanos having managed only a few mouthfuls, and as they were relaxing with the Pasha falling asleep and snoring, four men appeared dressed in black with the red Ruinand symbol on their chest.
‘Stephanos was stunned, but was too weak to react. He was bemused at his sudden physical weakness. His body failed him, refusing to obey any of his commands. Perhaps something had been put into his food or drink. But how was that likely? The Pasha ate the same food and drank the same drink. Unless the vessels he had used had been coated with some sort of substance. His speculation went no further. His brain was now failing him too. He had run out of time.
‘The four Ruinands took him away to their underwater city near Marathon Bay in Greece. They replaced him with a carbon copy of himself ready and trained to play his part in their infiltration of the Order of Vlachernae and the great almighty Symitzis family and their powerful Valchern Corporation.
‘And that is how I was forced to become one of the Pasha’s wives. I bore him four children, and was treated like a queen and had a relatively happy life. But the shame never left my heart, nor did the yearning for my family, my home, my second mother, Mrs Manto, who raised me after my mother died too young, soon after having given birth to my youngest brother. I thought about getting away many times and formulated many escape plans, but always changed my mind just before taking the final plunge.
‘I was afraid I would bring danger and tragedy to my family. And of course there were my children. I couldn’t take them with me nor could I leave them behind. If I could have found allies who might have helped me I would, but it was a huge risk to even attempt to test the waters and find out who was on my side. The Pasha used my abduction to blackmail my father and use him for his own ends, to commit atrocities against his family, his company, his people.
