The horse stumbled and Carina groaned as consciousness forced itself upon her. Her head ached and she was astride a horse, slumped against a man’s chest. Her hands were tied but the gag had been removed and the air she breathed was cool. It was almost dark, but she made out a column of riders ahead and the serrated edge of a mountaintop. How long had she been unconscious? Too weary to search for answers, her eyelids dropped and closed.
Occasionally in the hours that followed, she heard Ruffo talking and, when they stopped, the sound of running water. A stream gushed down the hillside and the bandits dismounted and waded in alongside their horses, scooping water into their mouths. Ruffo remained in the saddle while one of the men filled a skin and handed it up to him. He took long gulps and finished with a grunt. Then Carina’s head was pulled back and he prised her mouth open, pouring water down her throat.
Paco’s hand slid up her leg, pinching her calf through the thin material of her pantalets.
‘Keep your filthy hands off her. She’s mine,’ Ruffo growled.
He pulled up the horse’s head and took the lead, following a path no wider than a sheep track. Carina felt lather from the horse’s flanks, hot and sticky on the inside of her legs. Her head throbbed as she forced herself to think. They had been on the move for half a day and were far away from Santa Fiore. The bandits intended to use her as a hostage and would do her no harm, she told herself. She tried to be brave, but her teeth chattered. Where were they taking her?
Ruffo guided the horse carefully and when they reached a small clearing he reined in and dismounted. Reaching up, he grasped Carina around the waist and lifted her down. Her legs were cramped and he gripped her arm, steadying her.
‘Stay close to me – if you try to run, I’ll let Paco have you,’ he muttered.
She hated this man with his thick body and bull-like strength, but she feared Paco more. As she followed Ruffo, loose shale made her stumble and he squatted down beside her. Not knowing what he meant to do, Carina drew her legs up away from him.
‘No need for fancy shoes where you’re going.’
Her boots were pulled off and Ruffo helped her to her feet. With his hand heavy on her shoulder, they passed through a thicket of thorns. When they came out the other side, she glimpsed the outline of tumbledown shacks. A fire had been lit and Ruffo cupped his hands to his mouth and gave a long, warbling whistle. There was no responding signal and he swore.
‘Merda! He’s a suspicious devil. Stay here.’
‘I’ll take care of her.’ Paco’s arm encircled her waist and Carina fixed her gaze on Ruffo. She saw a man standing by the fire and Ruffo raise his arms as he came into the light. Then he turned to point in their direction.
‘So, lady-whore, it’s time to get you ready.’ Paco’s fingers pulled her hair loose and moved to her collar.
‘Behave yourself, Paco! You heard what he said,’ one of the others whispered.
‘Ruffo’s a fool if he thinks he can keep her for himself.’
She would scream if he touched her again, but Paco let her go for Ruffo was coming back. With his fist in the small of her back, he pushed Carina ahead of him and when they reached the campfire, took her by the shoulders and turned her round.
‘Here she is, my friend. A worthy prize, eh?’
Ice fingers of shock reached down inside her as Carina stared at Ben Mavrone. She must be delirious, she thought. He was being interrogated in Palermo. How could he be here? Then hope leapt in her heart. Mavrone was a friend of Baron Riso. He wasn’t a murderer and would come to her rescue! There was a distant look in his eyes as they went to her face. Didn’t he recognise her? How different she must look in dirty, torn clothes with her hair hanging loose – but surely he would save her? Then Carina thought of their last encounter and all certainty vanished.
‘I told you how we captured the horses. She was in the carriage,’ Ruffo said. ‘She’s the one we saw with Scalia! He’ll pay good money for her!’
Mavrone turned to Ruffo without speaking to her and Carina watched as the other men come forward. They shook his hand, greeting him in turn, and she sensed his authority. He only had to tell them to free her and they would do so. What was he waiting for? A bottle was passed from one to the other but her attention was only on Mavrone as she strained to hear what he was saying.
‘You’ve money and horses enough. Tomorrow, when you’re rested, you’ll make your way to Marsala.’
‘What about the woman?’ The question came from Paco.
‘She’s the property of myself and my friend,’ Ruffo answered. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Capitano? It was on Miss Temple’s orders you and I were picked out for punishment.’
That’s not true! Carina shouted inside her head. This couldn’t be happening. She felt her grip on reality slipping and at any moment might become hysterical.
‘Read this, Capitano! Tell us if she’s a Bourbon spy.’
Paco stepped forward with Scalia’s letter and gave it to Mavrone. He looked at it, frowning as he scanned the page, then held it up and read aloud.
I, Prince Riccardo Scalia, Duke of Pallestro, authorise Contessa Denuzio and Miss Carina Temple to travel to the Convent of Santa Fiore. If anyone impedes their progress or causes them unnecessary delay, they will be reported to the Office of Justice and prosecuted accordingly.
‘There you are! The whore was doing penance for her sins.’
‘She’s a spy!’
‘What ransom will Scalia pay for her?’
A cacophony of voices rose around them and Mavrone crumpled the paper and dropped it in the fire. The bottle was handed to him and he tipped it to his mouth, draining it to the last drop before he sent it crashing against the rocks. The violence of his action brought silence and he walked over to Carina. For the first time, he spoke to her.
‘So, will your lover pay good money for your return?’
‘I was with my aunt. We were on a pilgrimage—’
‘I don’t care what you were doing. I want to know how much you’re worth to Prince Scalia.’
A small animal ran across the earth, scurrying between them. There was a squeal as a boot struck it aside. The sound skimmed the surface of Carina’s mind as Mavrone took hold of the front of her dress. He drew her towards him until she was pressed against the length of his body. His hand went to her neck and he felt the rapid beat of the pulse beneath his fingers.
‘Are you frightened, Miss Temple? Do you think you’ll get your just desserts?’
Mavrone hoped to make her beg for mercy, but she would rather die than give him satisfaction. Carina raised her head, her voice cold and clear.
‘I despise you, Captain Mavrone. But I wasn’t the one responsible for your punishment. It was the guards I condemned to Scalia. If you were punished, then you brought it on yourselves by your actions.’
Mavrone towered over her and Carina raised her eyes to his shadowed face. When he spoke, his command was so quiet she barely heard it.
‘Hold her still, will you?’
Ruffo held her by the arms and Mavrone moved behind her. The ropes binding her wrists became tight and Carina stifled a cry before she realised he was cutting her loose. Someone threw wood on the fire so the flames were high and Ruffo held her so she couldn’t move. Mavrone lifted his knife to the side of her face. As the blade touched her cheek, her eyes glazed. She felt it trace a path down her neck to her throat. Then the knife was withdrawn and she heard his voice.
‘The hostage is an Englishwoman, comrades. If we want the support of her country we must be circumspect.’
‘I told Ruffo it was unlucky to bring her with us,’ Paco’s whiny voice joined in. ‘What shall we do with her? She’s seen too much.’
‘If we don’t return her, we’ll get no help from England. If we free her, she’ll go to Scalia and endanger all we’ve worked for.’
‘So what do you propose? Make her disappear into thin air?’ Ruffo was belligerent.
‘I’ll have to try and get her to Monteleone.’ Mavrone’s tone brooked no opposition. ‘Scalia’s men don’t dare travel beyond Castelvano. It won’t be easy but there’s no other way.’
As the discussion moved from one to the other, Carina thought she discerned grudging acceptance. Where did he say he was taking her? Supposing, she thought wildly, he meant to deceive the bandits and set her free?
‘I won’t help you again, Ruffo. Next time you get up to your old tricks, leave the damned women behind.’
‘May we enjoy her for tonight?’ Paco asked.
‘Let the capitano have her,’ Ruffo answered gruffly. ‘There’s plenty of women for us in Marsala. If we made a mistake with this one, we made plenty of money too – and I’ll drink to that.’
The men began to move away to sit by the fire and Carina’s façade of courage splintered. Her legs gave way and, as she sank to the ground, Mavrone scooped her up in his arms. He carried her with his arm under her knees and her cheek pressed against the rough leather of his jerkin. Coming to the first hut, he bent his head under the lintel and kicked the door shut behind him before he put her down.
It was pitch black inside and reeked of sheep. Carina heard the bolt being drawn and Mavrone moving around. He struck a match and a small flame flickered into life. As he placed the candle on a table, she edged into the corner, backing away until her spine was pressed against the damp wall. Her hands were slippery with sweat and her voice hoarse.
‘Tell me how much you want. I’ll get it for you.’
‘I don’t want your money.’
Mavrone took paper and tobacco, rolling them together. He bent his dark head above the candle and she noticed he had shaved off his beard. It helped to stay sane by concentrating on small details and she must keep him talking.
‘Are you going to set me free?’
‘Not at this precise moment.’
‘Then when?’
‘When the time’s right. You’re lucky those scoundrels handed you over.’
‘Are you saying you didn’t plan this? It wasn’t your idea?’
‘I knew nothing about it.’
‘But they’re your men. I heard you give them orders.’
‘They’re outlaws, Miss Temple. I have no authority over them.’
‘So why was he, you know … the man with you the day—’
‘It so happened that Ruffo and I were detained at the same time. If I’d known what he planned today, I’d have stopped him and saved myself a lot of trouble.’
‘You could have left well alone.’
‘Don’t play the innocent, Miss Temple. You know the men would rape you. The banditti are rather less fastidious than myself.’
Of all the abuse she had received, this last was the worst. How could he say that word in front of her? No gentleman spoke of such things. But Mavrone wasn’t a gentleman! He was as cruel and coarse as the others. The insult was more than Carina could bear, unhinging the last part of her mind under control.
‘You’re not fastidious, Captain Mavrone. You’re afraid you’ll compare poorly with Riccardo Scalia!’
Mavrone dropped his unfinished cigarette and crushed the stub under his boot. When he reached Carina, he pushed her so hard against the wall she was lifted off her feet. One elbow rested above her head, his mouth above her lips and his breath rasping down her throat. The blazing light in his eyes terrified her. With an agonised cry, Carina twisted her head away and he let go of her so suddenly she almost fell.
‘By God, ma’am, you deserve a bringing down.’
His voice cracked across the room and someone shouted from outside.
‘Hey, Capitano! Hurry up! We’re waiting for you!’
‘Pazienza! I’m coming.’
The door slammed shut and Carina slid slowly to the floor. What had she done? Dear God, who would help her now? The candle spluttered and went out but the cold kept her alert. She heard the scraping of footsteps outside and was on her feet before Mavrone came back through the door. He relit the candle, its glow spreading to his face as he turned towards her.
‘Don’t look so frightened. I’m not going to hurt you.’
Carina did not hear his words. There was a rushing sound in her ears and the space between them lost focus. Her arms went out, flaying empty air, and Mavrone caught her as she fell. He laid her down on a pile of sheepskins and she felt his hand at the back of her head.
‘Drink this …’
A flagon was pushed against her lips and into her mouth. Raw spirit scorched her throat and Carina gagged. She tried to spit it out but he held the bottle in her mouth until she swallowed. As her head fell back, liquid trickled from the side of her mouth and she thought she would be sick.
The brandy seeped into her bloodstream, dulling her senses. Her limbs felt too heavy to move, her mind too tired to think. She was dimly aware of Mavrone locking the bolt and snuffing out the candle before he lay down beside her. His arm dropped on her stomach and Carina rolled over on her side. She stared sightlessly into the dark but Mavrone did not stir. His breathing became light and, finally defeated by trauma and exhaustion, she fell asleep with his arm a dead weight across her waist.
Carina heard the creak of a door and could not think where she was. Her brain was befuddled by a sense of foreboding. She was lying on hard ground and every muscle in her body ached. Then she remembered the events of the day before. She prayed she was dreaming, but she was awake and the horror was real.
What devil made her taunt Mavrone with Scalia’s name? She had alienated the one person who might have helped her. The ordeal must have shattered her wits, Carina thought with rising panic. There was no one she could turn to now. Her only hope was to escape. But how? She recalled the bushes near the entrance and the place where they had left the horses. Now that she was rested, she could run faster. If she could get to the horses, she might have a chance.
Carina opened her eyes. The only window was a small opening in the wall where stones had been removed and she saw Mavrone standing by the door. He had his back to her and his hunting knife lay on the table. He thought she was asleep and had left it unguarded. Now, she thought. Now! In one movement Carina came to her feet and grabbed the knife off the table, brandishing it in the air as Mavrone wheeled round.
‘Unlock the door!’ She ordered in a hoarse voice.
‘I’m surprised you’re so keen to join Ruffo and his friends.’
‘Unlock the door. Then get out of my way.’
Carina jabbed the blade at Mavrone and he stood aside, but without slipping the bolt. He hoped to unnerve her, but she was the one with the weapon! She waved it at him again and he moved further away. Carina stepped cautiously towards the door. The iron bolt was stiff so she had to lift one hand off the hilt to open it. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Mavrone watching her with an expression of absorbed interest. He thought she wouldn’t make it but she was too desperate to contemplate failure. She opened the door a crack and looked out.
A couple of bandits were sitting around the fire while others were still asleep and she estimated the distance she had to run. If she kept behind the buildings she could get more than halfway before she had to break cover. Barefoot she wouldn’t make a sound and Carina shoved the door wide open. Ruffo was kneeling by the fire poking it with a stick and she took a deep breath.
‘Figlio de puttante, bring some coffee over here!’
Carina heard Mavrone’s shout and spun about. He moved like lightning across the room and she went for him with the knife. The blade slashed through his shirt. Holding the hilt with both hands, she lunged at him again. Mavrone took a step sideways and his fist slammed down hard, knocking the knife out of her hands. It fell to the floor, sliding under the table beyond her reach. In a frenzy of rage, Carina threw herself at him, punching his chest until he hooked a foot behind her knees and kicked her legs from under her.
‘Am I interrupting anything?’ Ruffo walked through the door. Together they bound Carina and pushed her up against the wall.
‘So she cut you, my friend.’ He pointed to the thin red line of blood on Mavrone’s shirt. His lips drew back in a smile that showed his yellow teeth. ‘The knife – now that was careless.’
He had brought coffee and bread, which he placed on the table and Mavrone dipped a cloth in water.
‘I’ve always been susceptible to feminine charms and this one’s no exception,’ he remarked as he cleaned his wound. ‘It’s only a scratch but she’d kill us all if she could.’
Carina sobbed in desperation and fury. If only she had killed him! Mavrone was treating her like an animal and she wanted him dead. For pity’s sake, what was happening to her? Why hadn’t she tried to negotiate with him? There was a chance she could have persuaded him to let her go. In less than twenty-four hours she had become as barbaric as her tormentors. Pain spliced her neck from the temple and she wondered if the blow to her head had affected her brain.
The smell of coffee made her stomach cramp with hunger. How long was it since she had last eaten? Not since yesterday morning but when Ruffo waved a mug at her, Carina shook her head. Mavrone dipped a hunk of bread in his coffee and brought it over and she clamped her mouth shut.
‘You will eat, even if I have to force food down you. Don’t fight me, Miss Temple. It won’t do you any good.’
There was a hard look in his eyes as he pushed the crust into her mouth and Carina dared not spit it out. The bread had been softened by coffee and she swallowed it whole. Mavrone filled a mug with water and held it to her lips and she took a small amount.
‘Make sure Prince Scalia pays a good price for her.’ Ruffo leant down beside Carina, breathing sour liquor into her face. ‘Behave yourself if you want to stay alive.’
‘She’ll soon learn. Now help make sure she doesn’t escape.’
Everything Mavrone had said last night was a lie! Ruffo and the other bandits were under Mavrone’s command. Why bother to deny it? As they dragged her over and looped a rope around her and the table leg, Carina shouted at them, heedless of the emotion in her voice.
‘You won’t get away with this! Never! Not even when you’re dead and damned in Hell!’
‘Maybe so.’ Mavrone hunkered down and tied her ankles together. ‘But until then it would be easier on us both if you were more amenable. Are you going to be quiet?’
Carina wanted to spit in his face but she saw the dirty cloth in Ruffo’s hand. The idea of the filthy rag in her mouth made tears sting her eyes and she looked away so that Mavrone wouldn’t see. There was no need for a gag. She could shout and scream all she liked, but no one would hear and he seemed to understand.
‘Leave her be; only wolves pass this way.’
Mavrone retrieved his knife from under the table and wiped it clean before he tucked it into his belt. Ruffo was already outside, calling to his companions to hurry up, as Mavrone slung a knapsack over his shoulder and walked to the door. He stopped to look back and Carina dropped her head.
‘I’ll be away for a few hours and will return this evening. Be kind enough to wait for me until then.’