Free YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1) by Beryl Darby Page A

suffering from and how to cure it.’
    ‘The Widow Segouri knows,’ said Yannis.
    ‘The Widow knows some things,’ admitted his father. ‘She trained as a nurse for a while before she married and the rest of her knowledge comes from experience.’
    ‘Where does she live?’ asked Annita curiously.
    ‘At the end house,’ replied Yannis, heaving his shovel onto his shoulder. He was feeling deathly tired now, but proud that he had managed to keep up with his father, not needing to stop for frequent rests as the girls had. The sad procession made their way back to the house, Yannis pointing out where the Widow Segouri lived on the way. The rest of the family were waiting for them, Anna had obviously been crying.
    ‘I’ll clean the spades,’ Yannis muttered and slipped back out to the yard.
    He rubbed off the cloying earth with a piece of rag and took them to the outhouse; then he returned to the stable. Aga was lying where he had last seen her. He stroked her nose gently. There was no response, no flick of the ears, no nuzzling in his hand. Yannis thought his heart would break; sobs racked his body as he expressed his grief over the dead animal. He did not hear his father enter the stable and walk over to him.
    ‘Yannis, do you feel better now?’
    The boy nodded dumbly.
    ‘It was sad, but she didn’t have a bad life. I looked after her, made sure she had enough to eat, never beat her, and she hadn’t earned her keep for a long time.’
    ‘I know, Pappa. It’s just that I loved Aga and I think she loved me. I know you kept her when you could have sold her for the price of her skin.’
    Yannis senior’s voice was gruff. ‘I don’t regret keeping her. You mustn’t grieve. Come inside and have a glass of wine. It will help you sleep.’
    Yannis took a last look at Aga and followed his father from the stable, automatically latching the door behind him.
    Yannis senior finally declared the pit they had dug was deep enough and the cart bearing the animal was manoeuvred into position. Together they tilted it and the dead donkey slid slowly into the deep hole, landing in an ungainly heap.
    ‘Fill it in,’ ordered Yannis. He did not want the children to stand and look for too long.
    Filling in the hole was much quicker and easier than digging it and they had nearly finished before the girls asked for a rest. Yannis took the opportunity to pull out some pottery he had spotted and place it to one side.
    ‘Come on, let’s finish the job.’ Yannis senior was not prepared to lose a day’s work over a donkey. When the last of the earth had been shovelled in he stamped it down hard whilst Yannis continued his search for pottery in the remaining clods.
    Anna looked at her father. ‘Shouldn’t we say prayers for her, like they do in church?’ she asked solemnly.
    Her father smiled at her. ‘You can say a prayer if you wish.’
    ‘I’ll say one,’ said Andreas suddenly. ‘Come and stand by the grave, all of you.’
    Surprised, the children did as he bade them. Andreas drew himself up to his full height, clasped his hands together and spoke in a clear, quiet voice.
    ‘Dear God, in your mercy, please look after this donkey who has entered your Heavenly Kingdom. She carried heavy burdens in her lifetime on earth; please lighten her load now that she is in your care. Amen.’
    Yannis senior looked at the boy in amazement. He had said the words so confidently, yet they were unrehearsed and came from the heart. They turned from the grave and Anna picked a few flowers that she scattered onto the stamped earth. The action brought a lump to her father’s throat and he spoke gruffly.
    ‘To work, now, all of you, to make up for the time we’ve spent.’
    Yannis spent the evening out in the yard washing the mud from his pottery. By the morning it would be dry and he would be able to look at it properly. He could already see there were a number of pieces that looked the same.
    Annita came out to him. ‘What are you