Dearest Alice
Palermo is a different city without you and my cousins. I miss you and am less confident now than when we first arrived. Sicily has a cruel and savage side that is hard to understand. I would like to speak to Jane, but she is in Rome and I dare not visit the consulate on my own. I wonder if I truly belong here? Please write soon. My grandmother is in good health and sends you her blessing on your marriage.
A little over a fortnight later, Carina received an answer.
Our separation is a bitter pang, dearest. I understand you are lonely without the company of Paulo and Gabriella – but please don’t be too downhearted or discouraged. These weeks of winter will pass and when your cousins return for Easter, your spirits will revive. I have never seen you so happy as in the company of your mother’s family. Sicily is in your blood and will never leave you …
Alice understood her better than anyone and Carina was reassured. Still, Enrico’s remark about Scalia troubled her. Was he referring to her in particular, or anyone acquainted with Baron Riso? She was safe under her uncle’s protection and it was Enrico who was in danger. Where was he now?
A wall of silence surrounded the palazzo and she was desperate for news. Anna Maria had returned to Palermo and called twice at the Palazzo Scalia already. She must have learned something, but Carina could not question her in front of her grandmother. It was impossible to discover anything until, out of the blue, Anna Maria suggested she accompany her on a pilgrimage to the monastery of Santa Fiore in the mountains.
When Nonna expressed reservations, her aunt brushed them aside. Prince Scalia had assured her that the roads were safe, she declared; and even been so kind as to offer a mounted escort.
‘It’s only for our peace of mind. Count Maniscalco’s been busy all winter. The brigands who caused us so much trouble are all under lock and key.’
So it was settled. Nonna gave way and Carina rose early on the morning of the excursion. Anna Maria had stipulated nothing too ostentatious, so she chose a dress of dove-grey crêpe without a crinoline. Despite Rose’s admonitions, she refused to wear a corset. Tightly laced stays were unnecessary on a pilgrimage, she argued. Besides, it would be cold in the mountains and flannel pantalets were warmer than petticoats.
Carina’s arrival in the courtyard preceded that of her aunt by a few seconds. Anna Maria was rigged out like a ship in full sail, with a gold crucifix pinned to her chest and clasping a jewel-encrusted prayer book. Observing her difficulty in negotiating the narrow doorway into the carriage, Carina wondered if they would both fit inside. Once she was in, Anna Maria gathered as many folds of her skirt about her as she could and Carina squeezed in opposite her. A sea of black taffeta filled the space between so she could hardly breathe, but when they reached the city gates the horses were whipped up and a breeze came in through the window bringing relief.
Scalia’s two outriders, with their distinctive cockaded hats, were with them and Anna Maria announced she was going to say her prayers. Her lips moved silently as the beads passed through her fingers and the smell of wild herbs by the roadside made Carina think of Melton. Alice had told her how Sonia instructed the gardeners to pick sweetly perfumed leaves, laying them out in trays to dry before they were brought into the house. The custom had carried on after her death but it only occurred to her now that it came from Sicily.
‘What are you dreaming about? Some young man perhaps?’ Anna Maria put away her beads as the landau jolted over a bad patch of road.
‘I was thinking about the brigands who’ve been arrested. What will happen to them?’
‘If they’re found guilty, they’ll be sentenced accordingly. Now let me see, where are we?’
‘Will any of them be executed?’
Anna Maria was gazing out of the window and turned her head, her face crumpled with disapproval.
‘You forget we’re on a pilgrimage, Carina! Such morbid fascination does not become you. You make me feel faint with such talk. Now, where are my smelling salts?’
Anna Maria searched in her pouch for a bottle and waved it under her nose. Then she leant back and shut her eyes. She didn’t look faint, but it was an effective way to put an end to questions. She must wait for the return journey, Carina decided. Then she would pester and cajole Anna Maria until she extracted every morsel of information she had to offer.
They had come to the foothills and were lumbering up a narrow road between rocky escarpments. Judging from the position of the sun, it must be almost midday. If her calculations were correct, they would arrive at the convent of Santa Fiore within the hour. The thought of shady cloisters and the fresh mountain air made Carina drowsy. She was half asleep when a loud noise jolted her awake. For a confused moment she thought she was dreaming. Then she heard shouts and a rattle of gunfire. The horses plunged forward and the landau lurched, tilting precariously. As it came to a shuddering halt, both women were thrown to the floor.
The carriage was tipped on its side, making it difficult to move, but Carina managed to heave herself up on to the seat. As she leant down to help Anna Maria, a high-pitched keening came from outside. It was a spine-chilling sound and silenced by a gunshot. One of the horses must have broken a leg! They had shot one of the horses! As Carina tried to get to the door, Anna Maria clutched her skirts. ‘We’ve been attacked! Madre de Dio, we’ve been ambushed!’
‘We’ve had an accident. I expect a wheel’s broken off. I’m going to open the door. You stay here.’
Anna Maria began to intone a prayer and Carina grasped the door handle. Where was Gino, the coachman? He should be here by now. The door was jammed fast and after a couple of attempts she gave up. Reaching for the blind, she undid the catch. Then she hauled herself up, resting her elbows on the rim as she looked out.
They had crashed at a point where the road was only wide enough for a single vehicle to pass. Just as she had thought, one of the wheels had sheared off. Carina could see the coachmen gathered in a group ahead. One of them – she thought it was Gino – was giving orders and waving his arms. Squinting her eyes, she counted the men. There were too many figures! Then, with a lurch of her stomach, she looked up and saw others standing at the top of the bank.
Anna Maria was right – they had been ambushed. Carina stared in horror at the bandits. Cartridge belts were slung over their jerkins and they carried knives with wide blades that caught the sun as they scrambled down the escarpment. The man she had mistaken for Gino was herding the coachmen to the side of the road. He prodded them onto their knees with the butt of his gun as they were tied up and made to lie face down on the ground.
Where was Scalia’s escort, for God’s sake? Carina twisted her neck and searched back along the road. Two bodies were sprawled on the ground and one lay close to the carriage. He had been trampled under its wheels and his hat, bearing Prince Scalia’s cockade, was soaked in blood by his head. Nausea rose in her throat and Carina let go of the window ledge and sank back onto the seat.
‘Holy Mary protect us!’ Anna Maria raised her head. ‘Santa Rosalia, come to our aid. Jesus save us—’
Carina was brought to her senses by her aunt’s wailing. ‘We must give them money if they come for us. How much do you have?’
‘I don’t know. It’s in my purse …’
Anna Maria fumbled in her skirts and Carina saw the purse first. It had fallen out and was lying on the floor. She picked it up and spilled the contents on to her lap. Among the bottles and handkerchiefs were a few coins and a roll of banknotes tied to a large white piece of parchment.
‘What’s this?’
‘A letter from Prince Scalia—’
‘Well, we won’t have need of that.’
Carina detached the notes and stuffed the letter into her pocket. She squeezed the banknotes in her palm as footsteps approached. The handle of the door was shaken and then the whole panel wrenched off its hinges. The gaping hole was filled by the shadow of a man who caught her by the shoulders and dragged her out.
She landed on her feet, a knife held beneath her chin so her head was forced back. The brigand’s arm was tight beneath her ribs and a strangled sound came from her throat. The pressure eased and Carina breathed in air as the bandits crowded around her.
‘What brings you to Santa Fiore with a mounted bodyguard?’
‘We’re on our way to the monastery. We’ll give you money.’
‘Sure you will – but maybe we want a bit more.’ One of the men made an obscene gesture with his hips. ‘Shall we have us some sport, my friends?’
‘You forget our purpose, Paco. Where’s the money, lady?’
Carina’s arms were pinioned to her sides and the one called Paco took her hand and opened her fist. With a yell of triumph, he waved the bankroll in the air before digging into the pockets of her skirt.
‘What’s this?’ He held up the letter from Prince Scalia.
‘Tell us what it says!’ one of them shouted.
Paco dropped the paper to the ground and the bandits laughed.
‘Didn’t you go to school, Paco? Can’t you read?’
They had discarded the document and Carina saw greedy delight on their faces as the money was distributed. The knife beneath her chin was removed as the man who held her took his share. She momentarily forgot about Anna Maria until, like a signal from hell, Carina heard a scream as two bandits lifted her aunt out of the landau. The crucifix had been torn from her dress and tears streamed down her face. She tripped over her long skirts and a rough hand sent her to the ground.
‘Time to say your prayers, you old cow!’
‘Let’s hear you beg for your life—’
‘Leave her alone! Stop it! Stop it at once!’
Carina shouted at them, but she was forced to listen as the bandits goaded Anna Maria. Her aunt was on all fours, her vast crinoline billowing behind her. She was weeping and pleading until suddenly her sobbing ceased. She had seen Prince Scalia’s letter and Carina’s blood slowed in her veins. No, she wouldn’t be so stupid! Even Anna Maria couldn’t be such a fool! As she willed her to ignore it, Carina saw her fingers stretch out for the roll of parchment.
‘Come on! Kiss my boots and I might let you live.’
‘Never!’ Anna Maria waved the letter in the air. ‘We’re under Prince Scalia’s protection. This is—’
She was silenced as Paco hit her across the face. Blood dripped from her mouth and when his arm went up to strike her again, Anna Maria fainted at his feet. Paco reached down and snatched the letter from her limp fingers.
‘Do you know who they are? They’re Scalia’s friends. It was in her possession, Ruffo! She knows what it says. Make her read it!’
He strode over and thrust the document in front of her face. Carina was turned about so she was staring at her captor. Above the thunder in her ears, she heard him say her name. ‘Miss Temple, if I am not mistaken?’
Shifting his gaze from her, he looked over her head to the others. ‘Leave the woman to me. Keep the letter, Paco. I know someone who’ll have use of it. Search the carriage and search well. Make sure no more of Prince Scalia’s spies are hiding inside.’
The orders were given and darkness swirled in Carina’s brain. The brigand who held her was the same man she had seen with Mavrone near the Villa Pallestro. Anna Maria had placed them in mortal danger and such terror seized her. Carina cried out as Ruffo pushed her back against the broken wheel. Her aunt lying unconscious on the ground; her neck was bent sideways and her eyes closed. A lizard scuttled by, its tail touching her hand and her fingers twitched. Thank God she was alive – but what had they done with Gino and the others?
Scalia’s men lay dead on the road but Carina couldn’t see Gino. Where was he – and how could she save any of them? She must try to bargain with the bandits. Apart from Ruffo, they were swarming over the landau, ripping up seats and tearing off brass fittings and she twisted round to look at him.
‘We’re on a pilgrimage. It would be sacrilege to do us injury.’
‘Sacrilege, do you say? Isn’t whipping innocent men sacrilege?’
What was he talking about? Carina stared at him blankly. The rim of the wheel bruised her spine and she winced as Paco emerged from the carriage, grinning toothlessly.
‘Is she too much for you, Ruffo?’
‘Get the weapons on the horses and hurry up! You can keep the money – but the woman is mine.’
‘What do you want to take her for? Get on with it here. Save yourself the trouble.’
They spoke in dialect, but Carina understood enough. The bandits were desperate and there was no hope of bargaining with them. She must escape and ride for help. With a suddenness that caught Ruffo off guard, she threw her body sideways and ducked under his arm. Her long legs streaked out as she sprinted towards the uncoupled horses. When she reached the first, she grabbed hold of its mane and had one leg over the withers before Ruffo caught her and threw her to the ground. Paco held her down as a foul-smelling wedge of material was stuffed in her mouth and her wrists bound with rope.
Ruffo slung her over the horse so her head hung below its flanks. When he mounted, he pulled her up to ride astride in front of him and Carina looked around in panic. Anna Maria was on her knees, clinging to the broken axle and Ruffo shouted over to her.
‘Tell Prince Scalia we have his whore! If he wants her back he’ll have to pay! Otherwise, she’s dead!’
Her skirts were hitched up and Carina kicked her heels at the horse’s shoulders. Her boot caught in the reins and she yanked the bit, trying to bring the animal over backwards. The next instant a hard object slammed into the side of her head. There was a blinding flash before everything went black and the last thing she heard was Anna Maria’s voice, fading, calling out her name.