YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1) by Beryl Darby Read Free Book Online

tonight.’
    Once away from the shore the excitement drained from Yannis. It was difficult carrying out his uncle’s instructions with only the light of the moon to help him. He fumbled with the ropes, his fingers becoming numbed with the cold far more quickly than they did during the day, and he was relieved when his uncle told him to take the tiller and keep the boat on course. They had rounded the headland, but in the darkness Yannis had no idea of their direction.
    The slap of the waves against the hull seemed far louder than usual and the pitching and rolling of the small craft more pronounced. He was thankful when Yiorgo lowered the sail and told him to take the oars.
    ‘Aren’t we going to drop the nets?’
    ‘Not tonight. I’ve a delivery to make.’
    They strained at the oars rounding the end of the long finger-shaped piece of land until they were running into the channel between the island of Spinalonga and Yannis’s hometown. Skilfully Yiorgo manoeuvred the boat alongside the quay and made fast the rope.
    ‘Don’t make a sound,’ ordered Yiorgo.
    Yiorgo swung himself over the side of the boat and within a few moments was swallowed up in the darkness. Yannis sat on the gently rocking boat for an age before he saw Yiorgo a short distance away. Two large, unwieldy bundles were passed up to Yannis and Yiorgo disappeared into the night again. Yiorgo returned twice more with bundles that he handed up to Yannis before climbing aboard, casting off quickly and exhorting Yannis to row as fast as he could. Yannis obeyed and they were soon through the channel and back out to the sea.
    Yiorgo raised the sails and then took the oars from Yannis. On the horizon there was a wink of light and Yiorgo steered straight towards it. The light became larger as they drew closer, until Yannis could make out the hull of a trawler. Yiorgo dropped the anchor before taking the lantern from the cabin. He lit it carefully, shading it with his hand he began to swing it back and forth until an answering flicker came from the trawler.
    Satisfied Yiorgo blew out the lamp and passed it to Yannis to return to the cabin. They sat and waited until the splash of oars could be heard, Yannis straining his eyes in the darkness. Finally a rowing boat came into view and Yiorgo sent Yannis to the hold to pass up the bundles. ‘Stay down there until I call you,’ he ordered.
    Yannis was not sure whether he was excited or frightened, but he was certainly not going to disobey. It seemed an eternity before his uncle called to him.
    ‘Yannis, come and get this lot below.’
    Boxes of fish were pushed towards him and he placed them carefully, the weight evenly dispersed on each side, as Yiorgo had shown him. Cautiously he made his way back on deck and looked around. There was no sign of the trawler.
    ‘Take the tiller, Yannis. We may as well return; we’ve made a good catch.’
    ‘Yiorgo,’ Yannis spoke tentatively, ‘I don’t really understand.’
    ‘It’s quite simple. I store a few things for some friends of mine. When they collect them they give me a share of their catch for my trouble.’
    ‘Why don’t they come to Aghios Nikolaos for them?’
    ‘They have their reasons. Nothing you need to worry about, and you don’t tell anyone. The other fishermen might not like the idea of a trawler catching fish for me.’
    ‘Do you do this every time you go out at night?’
    Yiorgo shook his head. ‘Only occasionally. Now, any more questions, or can we make for home?’
    ‘Where did we go when we moored and went along the beach?’
    ‘Spinalonga.’
    ‘Spinalonga!’ Yannis gasped in horror. ‘But the lepers…’
    ‘Did you see any? I didn’t. That was why I told you to be quiet, didn’t want to wake them up.’
    Yannis swallowed and shuddered. ‘I hate that place. You can see them sometimes when the boats deliver their supplies and they come down to the quay to collect them.’
    Yiorgo shrugged. ‘There’s no harm in going onto the