She must have dozed, for Carina opened her eyes to find Mavrone ready to go. He had packed up and now helped her to her feet.
‘We’ll stay in Castelvano long enough to give you a chance to rest. It’s time I took better care of you.’
He looked into her tense face and Carina felt her cheeks redden. He doesn’t mean it, she told herself. He’s only being nice because I let him kiss me.
‘I won’t thank you for being so hard on me before,’ she said, trying to sound indignant.
‘So you’re never going to forgive me?’
‘It depends on your future behaviour. How far is Castelvano to your home?’
‘Four days’ walk to Monteleone.’
‘Monteleone …’ Carina repeated the name, rolling the vowels on her tongue.
‘I’ve a hunch you’ll be happy there – so much so, you may never want to leave.’
Why did she have to notice then how the grooves on either side of his mouth deepened as he smiled? For a brief moment Carina longed for him to take her in his arms and kiss her again. Am I mad? she thought feverishly. I cannot change my mind. I know what will happen.
He was teasing her but Carina was so tense, she felt her nails cutting into the skin of her clenched hands and Mavrone bent down to pick up the knapsack.
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. However much I may want to, I’m not going to kidnap you.’
Clouds gathered over the mountain peaks as they made their way down the hill and, afraid they were too early for the patrol, Carina affected a limp. Mavrone slowed his pace but did not stop until they were down in the valley. Donkey carts and mule wagons were making their way home and a girl in a red shawl, who was singing, sat perched on the one at the rear. Carina’s nervous gaze searched down the hill. There was no sight of the Compagni. Why were they so late? In half an hour it would be nightfall.
Mavrone took her hand and spoke quietly. ‘We’ll keep off the road but cannot delay. If we enter after curfew we’ll be taken in for questioning.’
‘I must rest a while, please. My ankle’s so painful.’
‘Then wait for me here. I’ll try to find a wagon.’
Had he put his hand to her neck, he would have felt the fast beating of her pulse, but Mavrone did not touch her and Carina watched as he moved stealthily from tree to tree. It was dusk already. The Compagni must come soon! She sat down, twisting her hair with her fingers until at last she heard the sound she was waiting for. The distant rhythm of hoof beats was faint at first, growing louder as they approached, and the cavalcade was travelling at speed.
Carina leapt up, ducking under low branches as she ran through the olive grove. She was clear of the trees and on open ground when a blur of horsemen came around the corner with their cloaks flying out behind them. A cloud of dust rose from under the horses’ hooves and she shouted and waved her arms. The officer at the front lifted his arm to bring the troop to a halt. Carina was close enough to see his face before a shadow hurtled from behind and tackled her to the ground.
Mavrone fell with his full weight on top of her and his hand over her mouth. Her ear pressed to the ground and she heard muffled orders and bridles jingling as horses were reined in. A grassy bank rose above their heads and she began to struggle. She hunched her back, beating her feet on the ground and he threw his leg across her thighs. He was squeezing her jaw and she sank her teeth into the palm of his hand, hanging on as fiercely as a terrier at the neck of a rat. Her cries were muffled and she bent and twisted beneath him until she thought her heart would burst. Then she heard the command: ‘Avanti!’
In her mind’s eye, Carina saw the officer wave his troop forward. They were so close. One of the men must look over the bank and see them! Then someone shouted to leave the lovers undisturbed and the drumming of hooves faded into the distance. Mavrone took his hand from her mouth and rolled off her. His fingers dug into her shoulders, he pulled her up and guided her back to where he had left her before. He thrust her down on her knees and she felt the bite of rope as he tied her hands. Then he put his hand under her chin and forced her head up. His face was black with fury and Carina thought he might break her neck.
‘You didn’t believe me! You knew all the time!’ she cried out. ‘You left me alone as a test!’
‘The most dangerous part of our journey is ahead. I needed to be sure of you. My friends are bringing a cart. I trust your ankle’s better?’
How could she have thought she had deceived him? The rope chafed her wrists, but Carina was too miserable to feel pain. She had taken a gamble and lost. Her mind was empty of anything except bitter disappointment. A shrinking feeling inside numbed her as she knelt on the ground until Mavrone was alerted by a birdlike call. He left her and when he came back two strangers were with him. Speaking to them in dialect, he threw a cloak around her shoulders and the small group made their way to the road.
A donkey cart was waiting and Mavrone pushed her up the bank and dumped her in the back like a piece of baggage. Carina lay with the side of her face on rough wooden boards as he climbed in beside her. Sacking was thrown over them and his breath touched her neck.
‘If you make a sound I’ll kill you. After your little performance, it would give me no pain to cut your throat.’
Bags of grain were added and the smell of corn filled her nostrils as the cart moved forward. They jolted and bumped along and when they halted they were at the gates. Voices rang with authority as they snapped questions to the driver and heavy footsteps marched to the back of the cart. A hard object prodded her side but Carina did not make a sound and the order to pass was given. When they stopped again, they were inside the town. The heavy bags were taken off and Mavrone lifted her out and stood her on her feet. There was a rumble of thunder and slow rain began to fall as the cart was led away.
With one arm beneath her ribs and the knife at her neck, Mavrone marched her through a maze of alleys and up a steep flight of stone steps. Reaching the top, he pulled her into the shadowed entrance of a church. Opposite was a bar with tallow burning in the windows. The door opened and a soldier in uniform of the Compagni stepped out into the rain. He stood with his legs apart, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He seemed to be looking straight at them and Mavrone’s blade touched her throat. Then the soldier belched and set off unsteadily down the street.
Mavrone let out a low whistle. ‘You attract the Compagni like a bitch on heat! Let’s move before other dogs catch your scent.’
They skirted the piazza and he lengthened his stride so Carina was forced into a run. Dogs were howling and she glimpsed a man with a snuff-coloured nose huddled against a wall but Mavrone ignored the beggars and strays of Castelvano. He made her go on until they came to a stairway leading off the street. An invisible hand opened the door and a boy’s pale face emerged from the shadows.
Once inside, Mavrone took a candle bracket from the wall and gave it to the boy whose dark eyes gazed at Carina. He cut the rope loose and his hand closed around her arm in a grip hard as iron. The boy led the way along a subterranean passage with wet patches on the walls and places where the ceiling was so low that they had to bend double. And then, quite suddenly, they came out into a room filled with people.
Carina blinked in the bright light as an old woman came forward. She reached up to touch Mavrone on the forehead and a little girl tugged at his arm. Everyone was staring at her and she dropped her head so her hair fell over face. Mavrone leant down to speak to the child and then a man with an oil lamp ushered them down another passage to a stone cellar. He walked in and placed the light on the table. Carina saw an iron bed with a mattress and bed clothing rolled in a bundle and stood frozen in the doorway until Mavrone pushed her inside.
‘These will be your lodgings. I’ve ordered you a bath.’
Two young men appeared with a wooden hip tub, which they dragged across the floor to the centre of the room. They returned with buckets of water, accompanied by a blue-eyed girl carrying a towel and clothes, which she put on the bed. The girl looked dubiously at Mavrone. He did not respond and she tossed her head so her black hair bounced on her shoulders and followed the boys out.
‘Take off your clothes.’
As the door closed, the tension of the last few hours hit Carina all at once. Terror travelled down her veins so fast she thought she might faint. Her hands were shaking so she had to break the thread to get the buttons undone. She bent down to remove her boots and, wearing only her camisole and pantalets, walked towards the tub.
‘I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve undressed for a man. Take everything off.’
Carina tried to protest but her voice failed. If she disobeyed him, Mavrone would likely strip her naked himself. She turned her back, removing her underclothes and climbed into the bath, banging her hip on the side in her haste. He threw her a cake of black soap and she lathered herself all over, rubbing her legs and arms until the water was grey.
‘That’s enough. I want you clean – not scrubbed raw.’
Mavrone came to stand by the tub. His gaze raked over her and shame scorched her cheeks, spreading down her neck to her chest. He hauled her out and sat on the bed, pinioning her between his knees. Looping the towel behind her, he dried her before dropping it on the floor.
‘You’ve only yourself to blame if I take up your invitation of this morning.’
‘I wanted to get home.’ Carina bit her lip to hold back tears. ‘I wasn’t going to betray you.’
‘Well you made a damned good show if that’s the case. It so happens I don’t want you tonight. When I do, I take it you’re willing to render me the service you offer your other lovers. Do you understand?’
Carina fixed her gaze on a spider crawling up the wall. There was a lump, like a small stone, stuck in her gullet and she did not answer.
‘Do you understand?’ he repeated.
Carina refused to submit, but a tiny sob escaped her lips. Her cheeks were wet and she buried her face in her hands as Mavrone collected up his belongings,
‘Cover yourself before the lads come back,’ he said tersely. ‘They’re honest fellows. I don’t want them corrupted by your easy charms.’
They departed from Castelvano three days later and in that time Carina did not see Mavrone again. The black-haired girl brought her food, but she ate little. She was given clean clothes, a pair of loose trousers and a linen shirt, and allowed to rest undisturbed. When she was not asleep she listened to the rain pouring down outside. There were times she wanted to bang her head on the wall and bite her knuckles until they were raw. Mavrone punished me because I tried to trick him but I will never let him break me, she swore. I’ll fight him to the end. One day I’ll repay him for his treatment of me.
Late one evening two men came to the cellar. They had a quiet, professional manner and, with one on either side, Carina was taken from the cellar to the high-vaulted room she remembered from the night they arrived. An old man was smoking a clay pipe near the stove while children lay asleep on blankets on the floor. The women stood back and the girl with blue eyes stared her as she was led through their midst to the underground tunnel.
Mavrone was standing at the end and the light extinguished before they went out. When they reached the street, he walked so close behind her that his legs knocked into the back of her knees. With his hand on her shoulder, they made their way in silence to the guardhouse at the town gates. Beacons burnt inside and Carina saw soldiers sitting at a table with cocked hats tilted back on their heads.
‘The duty officer will open the gate for us. When I tell you to walk, do just that.’ Mavrone turned to the others. ‘Stay back and cover us.’
The pale moonlight was as spectral as the fear that gripped Carina as the door of the guardhouse opened. One of the soldiers came out. He glanced furtively in their direction. Then he walked to the gate and unlocked a small door. Propelled by Mavrone, she stepped through and heard the bolt being drawn behind them. They were out of Castelvano, heading downhill, and she noticed that instead of the pistol he carried a rifle. When they halted, he lifted the muzzle to her cheek.
‘I’ve better range with this and the aim is more accurate. Don’t try to run away …’
I will shoot you if you do … The last sentence was unspoken, but Mavrone made her walk so hard and fast that night if an entire army had passed them by, Carina wouldn’t have had the strength to run or the voice to call out. The pace he kept up was relentless. When they stopped she slept where she had fallen. The temperature dropped and it was bitterly cold but Mavrone no longer lay beside her. As she lay shivering on the ground, she knew he was not asleep and was watching her.
Making their way westward through forests freshened by spring rain, Mavrone avoided even the smallest hamlets. He rarely spoke and Carina kept her mind on the immediate future. When would she be able to rest? How long before the next bite of food or drink of water? They fed on stale bread and berries gathered from the bushes. One evening he shot a rabbit and roasted it on a wooden spit – she devoured the meat, tearing the flesh off with her teeth, and picking the bones clean. That night, for the first time since leaving Castelvano, she slept without the pain of hunger in her stomach.
They set off early next morning and now the streams they splashed across turned into fast-flowing rivers. Swollen by melted snow, they were increasingly perilous to cross. Carina came up behind Mavrone as he stood looking into a deep ravine where a waterfall crashed down with such force spray was thrown up into their faces. He deliberated for a moment before he unfastened his cartridge belt and laid the rifle on the grass.
‘Give me your boots and I’ll take them across.’
Carina sat down and took off her boots. She gave them to him and watched as he waded into the river. The water came up to his waist and he lifted the gun and rucksack above his head. A curtain of spray hid him and she craned forward until he emerged on the other side. He deposited his burden and then started back for her.
Too worn down to think of escape, she slithered down the bank and stepped into the river. Mavrone had his arm round her waist as they went forward together. Freezing water broke over their heads and the current whipped her heels. Carina lost her footing and clutched Mavrone’s arm so that he staggered. Then her feet touched solid ground and he pulled her up the bank on the other side.
‘Strip off and we’ll dry out in the sun.’
They were in a glade of dappled sunlight and Carina was aware her wet clothes clung to her body. She took off her shirt and Mavrone waited until she removed her trousers. He went over to a tree stump and spread them out to dry in the sun. She kept on her vest and drawers while he undressed to his breeches, wringing the water from his shirt, before he stretched out beside her.
A bird was chirping, its range of notes bright and tuneful, and Carina sat with her knees hugged to her chest. Twisting her neck to ease the ligaments, she glanced at Mavrone. His eyes were closed and she studied him with vague curiosity, noting the firm muscles of his stomach and his long legs. It was strange that the sight of his body didn’t shock her. All vestiges of civilised behaviour had been stripped away, she thought, and they were little better than savages.
There was a buzzing in her ears like the hum of a mosquito and a dull ache in her temples. Carina longed to sleep – but she could not rest with Mavrone half-naked beside her. To stay awake she picked up a pebble and sent it spinning into the water below.
‘What makes you so restless? Do you want to make love?’
Carina took a shuddering breath. This was the moment she dreaded. I won’t let him touch me, she thought. If he lays a hand on me, I’ll throw myself in the river. She stood up and looked down at him, her face hard and taut.
‘I despise you – or have you forgotten?’
‘Sure you do – but it doesn’t mean you don’t want me.’ The expression in his eyes belied the easy tone. ‘Do you despise Prince Scalia as well?’
Mavrone had made her cry in Castelvano – but he would never find her so susceptible again. She knew how to hurt him and her voice filled with venom.
‘Prince Scalia is a gentleman. No doubt that’s why Bianca chose him for a husband and not—’
Mavrone was on his feet before she could finish with his fist raised above his head. Carina braced herself for the blow, but his arm stopped in mid-air.
‘You’ll keep Bianca Scalia’s name out of your conversation or else—’
‘Or else what? Will you beat me?’ Her blood was up and Carina threw back her head. ‘I dare say you enjoy assaulting defenceless women.’
Mavrone strode over to the tree stump and put on his shirt and boots. He turned around, letting his hand drop on her shirt and Carina experienced a rush of intoxicating energy. He was baiting her like a hunter with a trap and she began to walk towards him, her eyes on her shirt and the hand toying with the buttons. She was almost within reach when his voice checked her.
´So tell me about Prince Scalia. Does he make love to you like a gentleman?’
‘He doesn’t—’
Her answer ended in a rasping cough. A searing pain tore through her chest and Carina felt the strength drain out of her as fast as it had come. Her shoulders sagged and her arms were so heavy they felt glued to her sides. Thoughts formed and then broke off, drifting away. She tried to remember what she meant to say but the only thing lodged fast in her mind was the look on Mavrone’s face when she spoke of Bianca Scalia.
With a bad-tempered gesture he threw the shirt at her feet and tossed her trousers over afterwards. He reached for his rifle, ready to go. Her clothes felt damp as Carina put her shirt over her head and pulled on her trousers. She followed at a distance and by the time they reached the coastal plain, Mavrone was well ahead. No longer wary of strangers, he greeted fellow travellers as they went by in their brightly coloured wagons. Children shouted as they hung out the back. When the same carts drove past her, Carina kept her head down.
Dirt was thrown up from under their wheels and she tasted grit in her mouth. The glare of light hurt her eyes and she stopped to wipe a hand across her face. In the far distance, she saw a ribbon of blue. It was the sea – they had reached the west coast but she was too sick to make anything of it.
She took a few steps and then halted again. Mavrone’s figure was a shimmering mirage and Carina tried to call to him. Her voice came out as a wheezy rattle. She was shivering with cold and burning with fever at the same time. Every breath was agony, lacerating her lungs. Her vision was hazy as though someone had put a veil over her eyes and she imagined the sun spiralling through the sky towards her. The next moment she was incinerated in its heat and she pitched forward, falling headlong onto the dusty road.