Read Online The Ghosts of Anatolia by Steven E. Wilson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steven E. Wilson
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she’s in heaven.”
“Do you want another horse? I think Papa would give you a foal, too.”
“No, my little mouse,” Kristina chuckled. She knelt down and hugged Sirak. “I don’t want another horse. I’ve got you now, and there will neverbe another horse for me like Nera, just like there will never be another horse for you like Tiran.”
Mourad smiled and walked into the kitchen. Pouring water from a pitcher into a ceramic basin, he washed his hands and face and dried them with a towel. He sat down in his chair at the head of the table, and Stepannos and Mikael took their places opposite Sirak.
“Flora told me Abdul Pasha came to speak to you this morning,” Kristina said, without looking up from the loaf of bread she was breaking.
“Yes, the scum was here. He came to make another offer for our land. I told him we weren’t interested.”
Kristina returned to the kitchen. Picking up the stewpot with hot pads, she carried it to the table. “Was it a good offer?” she asked demurely. She turned to take a bowl of vegetables from Flora.
“I have no idea,” Mourad replied impatiently. “We’re not selling, so there was no reason to waste my time hearing him out.”
Kristina glanced at Flora and took her spot at the opposite end of the table. Finally, with a nearly imperceptible shrug of her shoulders, she bowed her head.
Mourad stared with wide-eyed surprise across the table. “Do you disagree with this course, Kristina?”
“You are my husband,” she whispered. “If it’s your decision that we stay, then we will stay.”
Mourad continued to stare across the table in silence. “We thank Thee, Christ our God,” he finally began, bowing his head, “for Thou hast satisfied us with Thine earthly gifts. We thank thee for Sirak’s continued improvement. We beg thy protection for Bedros on his journey back to Istanbul, and for Alek, Garo and Aren, wherever they may be. We pray for wisdom for our leaders and for peace for the Empire. Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages, Amen.”
Mourad ladled stew onto Sirak’s plate. He let out a heavy sigh. “Next time he comes, I will hear him out.”
Kristina didn’t reply. Looking up, she smiled approvingly.
C HAPTER 6
Early November 1914
Mourad led his mule into the barnyard and set about harnessing the old black to the wagon. He looked up upon hearing a shout.
“Good morning, Kemal,” he called out cheerfully. “When did you get back from Bitlis?”
“Yesterday afternoon,” the young Turk replied. He climbed down to the ground and lifted off Özker. “We’re on our way into Diyarbekir to buy supplies. I thought you might like to travel together.”
“You have perfect timing. We’re just leaving for the city ourselves. We learned from our priest that Dr. Charles is working at the Missionary Hospital in Diyarbekir. We’re taking Sirak for a check-up and then I’ll purchase stores for the winter.”
Kemal glanced at the gaunt mule harnessed to the wagon. “What happened to your workhorse?”
“Nothing, he’s in the barn. The army is seizing horses, mules and donkeys throughout Anatolia, so I decided to take the old mule into town.”
“That’s very wise, my friend. They seized every work animal they could find in Bitlis to haul supplies and grain to the Russian front. My uncle lost both of his mules. I wish I’d ridden my old mare.”
“Why don’t you ride in the wagon with us?”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“What’s the situation in Bitlis?”
“It’s worse than I ever imagined. There were soldiers everywhere and a growing tension between the Turks, Jews and Christians. Several resistance groups are causing trouble in the north. And the navy bombarded Russia’s Black Sea coast just before I left.”
Mourad’s face twisted in disbelief. “
What? When?”
“On the twenty-ninth of October. I thought you already knew.”
“This is the first I’ve heard
“Do you want another horse? I think Papa would give you a foal, too.”
“No, my little mouse,” Kristina chuckled. She knelt down and hugged Sirak. “I don’t want another horse. I’ve got you now, and there will neverbe another horse for me like Nera, just like there will never be another horse for you like Tiran.”
Mourad smiled and walked into the kitchen. Pouring water from a pitcher into a ceramic basin, he washed his hands and face and dried them with a towel. He sat down in his chair at the head of the table, and Stepannos and Mikael took their places opposite Sirak.
“Flora told me Abdul Pasha came to speak to you this morning,” Kristina said, without looking up from the loaf of bread she was breaking.
“Yes, the scum was here. He came to make another offer for our land. I told him we weren’t interested.”
Kristina returned to the kitchen. Picking up the stewpot with hot pads, she carried it to the table. “Was it a good offer?” she asked demurely. She turned to take a bowl of vegetables from Flora.
“I have no idea,” Mourad replied impatiently. “We’re not selling, so there was no reason to waste my time hearing him out.”
Kristina glanced at Flora and took her spot at the opposite end of the table. Finally, with a nearly imperceptible shrug of her shoulders, she bowed her head.
Mourad stared with wide-eyed surprise across the table. “Do you disagree with this course, Kristina?”
“You are my husband,” she whispered. “If it’s your decision that we stay, then we will stay.”
Mourad continued to stare across the table in silence. “We thank Thee, Christ our God,” he finally began, bowing his head, “for Thou hast satisfied us with Thine earthly gifts. We thank thee for Sirak’s continued improvement. We beg thy protection for Bedros on his journey back to Istanbul, and for Alek, Garo and Aren, wherever they may be. We pray for wisdom for our leaders and for peace for the Empire. Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages, Amen.”
Mourad ladled stew onto Sirak’s plate. He let out a heavy sigh. “Next time he comes, I will hear him out.”
Kristina didn’t reply. Looking up, she smiled approvingly.
C HAPTER 6
Early November 1914
Mourad led his mule into the barnyard and set about harnessing the old black to the wagon. He looked up upon hearing a shout.
“Good morning, Kemal,” he called out cheerfully. “When did you get back from Bitlis?”
“Yesterday afternoon,” the young Turk replied. He climbed down to the ground and lifted off Özker. “We’re on our way into Diyarbekir to buy supplies. I thought you might like to travel together.”
“You have perfect timing. We’re just leaving for the city ourselves. We learned from our priest that Dr. Charles is working at the Missionary Hospital in Diyarbekir. We’re taking Sirak for a check-up and then I’ll purchase stores for the winter.”
Kemal glanced at the gaunt mule harnessed to the wagon. “What happened to your workhorse?”
“Nothing, he’s in the barn. The army is seizing horses, mules and donkeys throughout Anatolia, so I decided to take the old mule into town.”
“That’s very wise, my friend. They seized every work animal they could find in Bitlis to haul supplies and grain to the Russian front. My uncle lost both of his mules. I wish I’d ridden my old mare.”
“Why don’t you ride in the wagon with us?”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“What’s the situation in Bitlis?”
“It’s worse than I ever imagined. There were soldiers everywhere and a growing tension between the Turks, Jews and Christians. Several resistance groups are causing trouble in the north. And the navy bombarded Russia’s Black Sea coast just before I left.”
Mourad’s face twisted in disbelief. “
What? When?”
“On the twenty-ninth of October. I thought you already knew.”
“This is the first I’ve heard
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