Read The Emperor Awakes Online
Authors: Alexis Konnaris
The Emperor Awakes (31 page)
The reports went that there were sinister forces at hand and strange events afoot ready to strike at the stroke of every hour of every day from hereon. Some weird names and stories were dropped in the big pan on the fire and mixed, and craftily and ruthlessly spiked and generously seasoned; “Vlachernae”, “Ruinand”, a cube, body parts, icons, talking statues, powerful artefacts, an irresistible combination. That’s why for a while the story played to the gallery of emotions hovering above with bated breath, to people’s escapism, curiosity and love for the belief in the unreal, the extraordinary and the magical.
The various publications, blogs, websites and television channels were on fire, too hot to touch. The rumour-mill became accustomed to its new clothes and grew into a publicity blitz. The downside was that all this speculation and fabrication threw a spanner in the works and ground the clogs of serious archaeological endeavour to a halt.
Then, as if having gone perilously close to the sun in courting glory and with nothing to show for it, apart from selling lots of papers, with no proof accompanying it on its journey, oiling its wheels, providing the tasty dressing for the secret recipe of lasting success, if anything could be that, the story died a premature death, or had simply run its course, its light extinguished on the steps of the demand for the next big thing. Pity the story’s lack of lasting appeal did not allow journalists to get lucrative book deals, although some were noticed for their fiction writing abilities.
The matter became a joke, the discoveries considered bogus claims. Gradually, even the media lost interest and it became yesterday’s news. Only the conspiracy theorists were left obsessed with seeing clues where none existed.
Dawn was breaking over the harbour and the buzz of activity was heating up. The CBD (Central Business District) never slept, its army following developments in world markets around the clock.
It was here that the Fanari Tower stood, almost on the water’s edge, hungry to lick the waves, dying to dive in and conquer the world, as hungry as the company it housed, as ravenous as its captain and his ambition. The Tower was the headquarters of the billionaire Andrew Le Charos’ flagship company, Fanari Enterprises Limited.
Andrew was standing by the window in his office admiring the view of the glorious Sydney skyline with the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge practically at his feet.
It was a glorious day and the sun was shining over the magnificent harbour which was already alive with boats criss-crossing the blue waters, heading for Manly, Bondi Beach, the CBD and Darling Harbour, and some venturing out to sea and further afield.
The phone started ringing. He rushed to his desk and picked it up. He did not speak. He knew the answer before he heard the voice at the other end uttering two sentences:
‘It’s done. Package left on late Q flight from Istanbul.’ “Q” stood for Qantas Airways. It was hardly original code, but it would have to do. Andrew had decided not to send his private jet as that would be too conspicuous even in an out of the way airfield outside Istanbul.
Andrew put down the phone and picked up his other secure line.
‘The markets are open for business. Activate project Golden Horn.’
He could not feel excited just yet until the package had been safely delivered home.
Andrew wanted that icon badly, but had no way of knowing that it was most probably a fake. He knew Elli was after it too. He had a general idea of what she was up to through his spies and especially his favourite informant, his mole inside the Valchern Corporation. But he needed more information.
He had no plans to allow Elli to win. He would sabotage her at every possible turn. They had been business rivals for years. They both played on the global stage for the highest stakes and they both hated losing. Not that they often did.
Andrew was second cousin to Katerina’s father, Andros, and he had been estranged from his extended family for four decades. It was a clash of wills between him and his father that led to him, at twenty-four, going into voluntary exile in Australia, as far away from Cyprus as he could. Finding out that he had been adopted did not help.
He worked hard and he built one of the country’s biggest fortunes. Life had made him tough, but he was ambitious and ruthless. He was not known for his kindness. He was respected and feared, but not liked. However, up until his mid-forties he was different and he was genuinely charming and devastatingly attractive and cocky.
When in a chance encounter, as rivals in a bid to take over a company in Australia, he met Elli Symitzis, he was smitten; sparks were flying. They fell in love and got married a few months later. But the honeymoon did not last long. The children, Aristo and Vasilis, were five and three respectively when he began to change. That’s when the fights started, huge terrible rows. And he had started to drink heavily and refused any hand of help or advice offered by Elli and close friends who cared for him deeply.
Once he beat up Elli badly. That for Elli was the final straw. She would not tolerate physical abuse or mental for that matter. It was then that they decided to end their marriage amicably.
The divorce was issued a few months later and they went their separate ways with Elli keeping full custody of the children. There were no lasting financial hung-ups, obligations or court orders flowing from the divorce. It was a clean split.
It all looked so promising at the beginning. They were the perfect couple, the perfect family. But the end should not have been surprising, because nothing can be perfect. Perfection is always an illusion, a deludingly subjective state of affairs or simply happiness or contentment at a particular moment or period in time.
Andrew wanted nothing to do with his children. The children never knew who their father was. Elli wanted to tell them and pleaded with him, as she thought that it was important for them to know - they were bound to be asked at school or elsewhere - even if he did not want to meet them, let alone have any contact or relationship with them.
However, he was adamant and dead against it and so whenever the question would pass their lips as was expected of children who would not fail to notice that other children had fathers, she would tell them that he had died. They were young enough for any memories they may have had of him to be suppressed in a dark and isolated part of their brain. It was unlikely that anything would happen, even an even of seismic proportions, to trigger and tease those memories to the surface.
The identity of their father remained a closely-guarded secret and, surprisingly, whether out of respect for Elli or a, probably, misguided view of the children’s welfare or both, never came out in all this time, around thirty years now and counting, even though there were many people who knew the truth.
Misguided or not it was the right thing to do, as it was for Elli to be the first to tell them when she had decided that the time was right. But, somehow, it never was the right time. The wall of silence held up, as sturdy as the Great Wall of China that had lasted for centuries and was still going strong.
Now, almost thirty years on, the children, now adults, only knew him as a rival businessman and crossed paths with him only in business.
Andrew had decided that a reconciliation with Elli and Andros’ family, albeit a temporary one, or at the very least some kind of relationship, would be useful to his current ambitions. At least having Elli and them on his side, or pretending to do so, would divert their attention and buy himself time for his plan to be put into motion.
He wanted it all. He would have it all. Everything that Elli had. He was in the process of enlisting the help of shareholders of the Valchern Corporation through the Manoukios-led branch of the family shareholders and of the Madame Marcquesa de Parmalanski, leader of the Ruinands, mortal enemies of Elli’s and of the Order of Vlachernae.
‘Dad, I don’t trust him.’
Katerina put her glass down on the table with a bang that caused some of the liquid to spill on the marble tabletop and stain it like blood. She looked breathtakingly furious.
She was sitting with her father, Andros, on the veranda of her parents’ house near the Limassol Nautical Club, one of the very few old houses left next to the sea that had not been replaced by apartment complexes or hotels.
It was the twilight time, just after dusk and the view of the Bay of Limassol was breathtaking. On the Western end was the leg of Cyprus with the monastery of St. Nicholas and the RAF base at Akrotiri and the Limassol salt marshes, further up the glorious and endless sandy beach of Ladies Mile and the new port and closer to the city the lights of the old port and the Molos reclaimed area, now a recreational space and favourite place for Limassolians to stroll and exercise.
On the Eastern end twinkled the lights of the tourist area. The dark spot in between was the little eucalyptus forest called Dasoudi where the erosion by the sea over the years was visible. And then behind her she could see the lights of the city climbing up the surrounding hills.
Limassol had expanded a lot in only twenty years. She still remembered a much smaller city in the eighties with the Churchill Hotel, now the Crowne Plaza, the city’s Eastern boundary and the Amathus Hotel and the ancient site of the city of Amathus being quite a lengthy journey, almost as if going to another town. And there were the lights of the ships dotting the bay. The view never ceased to move her every time. It was as if she saw it for the first time, every time.
Her mother, Anna, was busy in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. Even though they had help, Anna insisted that she cook as many meals for her family as she could, even against her husband Andros’ reprimands. She knew Andros was tired of telling her to sit and relax. She was not getting any younger, but Anna was playing deaf.
One minute, she would acquiesce to her husband’s requests, fidgeting all the time from restlessness, but the next minute, having grown tired and impatient, would get up and those hands would get busy on this and that, like a bee with her wings flapping at a rate of ten times a second, with a speed that you could almost lose track of her, as if watching a Formula One race with Anna being the car whizzing past, her hands as if they had a life of their own, as if they were under a spell.
Andros turned to his daughter.
‘Katerina, I agree with you, but he sounded sincere on the phone. He probably means it this time. Andrew Le Charos is a difficult and ruthless man, but he is family, after all. He has requested this meeting and I think you should be the one to go. I think we should give him a chance.’
‘After all he’s done to this family and to our business, trying to sabotage us and for some reason Elli as well at every turn?’
‘Katerina, remember that that is business. It is a game and Andrew plays it well. So does Elli. In business she can be as ruthless as Andrew. We were close once. He was very different back then. Someone does not change that much. The Andrew I knew or at least a big part of him must still be there, I’m sure.’
Katerina was like a dog with a bone. She would not let go. She hammered her point in, attempting to reason with her father whom he thought of being too soft and understanding in this particular instance. Perhaps getting older made us see bad things in a softer light. Could it be selective amnesia, she wondered, but could not utter her opinion to her father in this way. She chose a more tactful approach and spoke in a half-conciliatory tone to get her arguments across.
‘Maybe the row with his father and his self-exile in Australia changed him and caused an irrevocable breakdown with the family that cannot be mended. Aren’t you at least suspicious of his motives? It’s very sudden after all these years, is it not?’
‘I will admit that the thought had crossed my mind. Call me a stupid old man, but I’ve wanted this rapprochement for a very long time. People do have a sudden change of heart brought about by a guilty conscience or loneliness. There may also be business opportunities to come out of this.’
‘So it’s always money isn’t it?’
‘Katerina, there is nothing wrong with that. We would not be where we are now, if it weren’t for our ancestors taking advantage of opportunities and I have followed that tradition throughout my life. I think Andrew deserves our benefit of the doubt.’
Katerina could not hide the outrage that had risen like bile in her throat and sought release through her vocal chords lest it choked her.
‘Deserves? He has done nothing to deserve anything or earn any drop of pity. If you ask me, Andrew does not give a damn about this family. Why now, after all these years he decides to make contact? I don’t buy it. He’s up to something. He just cannot accept the fact that, first, not only did our family not collapse after he left, but it thrived beyond even his and our wildest expectations. I think for all his money and his power he feels jealous and resentful of us. And second, he simply cannot accept that Elli Symitzis, and especially a woman, is a lot richer and much more powerful than he is, and, on top of that, one of the most powerful business figures in the world and de facto leader of the Greek and Cypriot business communities around the world; and that she’s also the head of the Order of Vlachernae.’