A second later there was a burst of gunfire and men shimmied down from the opening in the roof, unfurling ropes like great black spiders.
Another hail of bullets from the front entrance convinced Smiler’s men that the game was up. They threw down their weapons and put their hands in the air.
A man appeared through the fog of gunpowder smoke, clutching a Beretta.
It was Zoltan the Magyar. He looked down at the lifeless body of the Scotsman.
‘I think he got the point!’ he said.
He saluted James.
‘You are always getting into trouble, James,’ he said. ‘What are we going to do with you?’
The following morning, James was sitting outside the cave on a tree stump feeling empty and numb. The battle had been a brief, insane explosion of terror that had drained him of all emotion.
He had had to sleep in the open. It was impossible to stay in the cave. The smell of blood was too strong.
‘Here, James, I brought you this.’ James looked up to see Zoltan, carrying his battered suitcase. He slung it at James’s feet.
‘I thought you might need some clothes,’ said Zoltan.
‘Thank you,’ said James flatly.
‘You left it in the changing room at the stadium after the fight,’ said Zoltan. ‘I’ve been looking after it for you.’
‘How did you know where I was?’ said James.
‘We followed Ugo’s men. Word went round that you had escaped. I hoped to get to you before they did, but Smiler surprised us. He attacked you at night while we were sleeping. The sound of the gunfire told us what was happening. We were a little late in arriving or we would have stopped the bloodshed sooner. Your friends lost many men. I am sorry. It’s lucky they only brought one of these.’
James saw that Zoltan was carrying the Thompson sub-machine gun.
‘Ugo is such a miser,’ said the pirate. ‘I gave him a crate of these things and he sends his men out with only one, in case they lose them.’ He sat down and ran his fingers over the black metal and polished brown wood. ‘She is beautiful, isn’t she?’ he said. ‘Beautiful but evil. A machine for killing. And so simple. The gas released by the blast of the bullet being fired shunts the bolt back, releasing the spent cartridge and loading another one. The whole thing is powered by gunpowder. So simple and so deadly.’
He fired a burst into a nearby tree and watched as a shower of shredded leaves and twigs rained down.
‘It was invented by John T. Thompson of America, during the war. You know how he described it? He called it a trench broom. For clearing men out of trenches. It is a disgusting thing. I prefer my Beretta. She is small and has no great stopping power, but I like her. She suits me; she is fast and reliable and I can hide her easily.’
‘What happened with Ugo?’ said James, who had had enough of guns and killing.
‘You were right,’ said Zoltan. ‘I cannot trust him. After you escaped, he came to me. He was very angry, and said I must have helped you. We argued. I accused him of being a fool, and he accused me of being a traitor. He said he would never pay me what I was owed. It was like the past all over again. He is a thief. Now I have nothing. If I had not had my men with me, I think he would have tried to kill me.’
James felt shifty. His lie to Ugo had turned the two men against each other, but without that lie he would probably be dead.
Besides, he had to keep reminding himself, Zoltan was a murderer and not his friend.
The Magyar lit a cigarette. He looked tired and his whole body was shaking.
‘Don’t let my men see me like this,’ he said, looking at his good hand and trying to stop it trembling. ‘They will think I am scared. I cannot stop it, and every movement tires me out.’
‘What will you do now?’ said James blankly.
‘These people know about revenge. And I will have my revenge on Ugo. I will destroy him.’
‘You’re going back there?’ said James. ‘But there aren’t enough of you.’
‘The odds are levelled after last night,’ said Zoltan. ‘His army is smaller. I have all my crew and the surviving bandits.’
‘You still won’t stand a chance,’ said James.
‘I have a plan,’ said Zoltan. ‘Your cousin gave me the idea. We took some mining equipment from one of Ugo’s tunnels. I will bring his house down on his head.’
‘And what about Amy?’
‘Ah, Amy…’ Zoltan looked up at the sky and sighed. ‘She is the cause of all this. I will try to get her out before the end, but if I can’t have her, then neither will Ugo.’
‘That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?’ said James. ‘You and Ugo competing to see who has the bigger gun. You’re fighting over the prize like two dogs with a rabbit. But Amy’s not some sort of trophy. She’s a girl, a frightened fourteen-year-old girl. You’d let her die, wouldn’t you? Just to spite Ugo.’
‘No,’ said Zoltan. ‘I don’t want her to die. Which is why I need your help, James. You are the only one who knows where she is. That palazzo is a rabbit warren. I would never find her in time.’
James rubbed his temples with his fingers. He couldn’t deliver Amy back into the hands of this pirate.
‘I can’t help you,’ he said.
‘It seems there are three of us who want her,’ said Zoltan. ‘And as you say – when men fight over something it usually gets broken.’ He stood up and stamped on his cigarette with his heel. ‘Think about it, James. I am the only hope of getting Amy out. If you don’t tell me, then Stefano will.’
Zoltan walked away, leaving James alone with his thoughts. Everything had changed now. He didn’t have time to get to Victor’s. He needed a new plan. He opened the suitcase and looked inside.
There was the jumble of things he’d grabbed and thrown in without thinking as he’d hurriedly left Casa Polipo after the robbery. His wash bag, a clean shirt, his underwear, and there, tucked in one end, were the schnorkel, goggles and fins that Victor had given him. With a pang he remembered the time he’d spent with Mauro on the beach.
Mauro, who he would never see again.
He was suddenly overcome with a terrible sadness. All the emotions he had held back since hearing of Mauro’s death bubbled to the surface and he wept silently.
A few minutes later he heard a footfall and saw Stefano bringing him something to eat. He quickly dried his face, wiped his eyes and kept his head down, pretending to sort the items in his suitcase.
‘I have been talking to Zoltan,’ said Stefano, giving James some bread and cheese. ‘He wants me to take him back, and show him where Amy is. If I don’t tell him, I don’t know what he will do. This is bad, James. I think you must forget about the girl.’
‘No,’ said James. ‘I promised her. I can’t leave her there.’
‘There is not time to go to your cousin’s now,’ said Stefano.
‘I know,’ said James. ‘I need to go back to the palazzo instead, and try and get her out myself.’
‘You cannot,’ said Stefano. ‘It is too dangerous.’
‘Not necessarily. One person can sometimes do more than a whole army. I know where she is –’
‘But there is no way inside the palazzo,’ said Stefano. ‘Unless you come down from the dam, up from the valley in the railway, or through the mining tunnels. But all those routes are heavily guarded.’
‘What about the aqueduct?’ said James. ‘I could go across there.’
‘They would see you.’
‘Not if it was dark and I was swimming.’
‘Even then –’
‘No. I know a way,’ said James. ‘Now listen. Zoltan is planning some sort of attack. If I can get there before him, free Amy and be ready, we might be able to get out while everyone else is distracted by the fighting.’
Stefano thought about this in silence for a while, but at last he seemed to make up his mind. ‘Zoltan does not know the way back,’ he said. ‘It is easy to get lost in the mountains. I will take him, but I will go a lo
ng way round. Someone else will take you to the aqueduct by a quicker path.’
James smiled at his friend. ‘Thank you, Stefano,’ he said.
Stefano clasped him and gave him a hug. ‘You are a brave boy, James,’ he said. ‘It will be an honour to die at your side!’
‘I hope it won’t come to that,’ said James.
That evening, as James fixed a mosquito net up under a tree, he listened to the dull murmur of voices from the cave as the men prepared for the attack in the morning.
Zoltan’s plan was to hit the palazzo at first light. If James wanted to get there before him, he would have to leave in a couple of hours, so he needed to rest now if he could.
He doubted that he would sleep. He had been too close to death lately, and tomorrow there would likely be more killing.
He was sick of it. He wanted it to be over.
But he couldn’t leave Amy there.
He had made her a promise.
With a knot of tension in his stomach he watched as the bright blue of the sky dulled to violet, then to purple and finally to black. The racket of insects filled the night. Since his experience in Ugo’s swamp James was all too aware of insects. They were everywhere, countless millions of them.
Men thought they were so much more advanced, so superior, but it was the insect that ruled the world. They were here before man and they would be here long after he disappeared from the face of the earth.
James wondered how the battle yesterday would have appeared to a giant. The mass of angry men, fighting and dying, would have looked like nothing more than two rival swarms of ants.
Staring up at a patch of stars visible through the branches of the trees, he slowly drifted into a troubled sleep and dreamt of gunshots and bright blood hanging in the air like a red mist.
Some time later he felt himself being shaken and awoke to find the familiar face of Vendetta staring down at him. She was all in black, with a short blouse over trousers and a scarf tied around her head.
She smiled, then kissed him before he had a chance to dodge it. She beckoned him with a slim, bony finger and he got up stiffly.
He felt dog-tired and longed for more sleep, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Stefano had given him a knapsack, which he’d packed with the few things he would need. James picked it up, slung it over his shoulder and followed Vendetta into the cave, where he looked around for the man who was going to take him back to the palazzo.
There was nobody here. Zoltan’s men and the handful of bandits who were going with him had already left.
‘Who’s taking me?’ James whispered. Vendetta said nothing and ran off up the steps in a crouch, more catlike than ever. James noticed that she was carrying a canteen and a small leather bag and he suddenly realised who his guide was going to be.
‘No,’ he called out. ‘Not you. You can’t.’
26
It’s Always Darkest Just Before the Dawn
Vendetta was pointing down the hillside, but try as he might James couldn’t see anything. He gave her a questioning look and she pointed again, more insistently this time.
‘Zoltan,’ she whispered and James at last made out the dark shapes of several men hurrying through the trees below and some way behind.
So the plan was working. They were ahead of Zoltan.
Vendetta gave a triumphal smile and led James on.
James reckoned that they had been travelling for over two hours and Vendetta’s pace had never faltered. They must have been following a track of sorts; she knew exactly where she was going, but an outsider would never have found any signs of a path to follow. And she was barefoot. James couldn’t begin to imagine how tough the soles of her feet were. James’s heel still throbbed occasionally when he was tired. If this girl trod on an urchin she probably wouldn’t even notice.
James was exhausted; he longed to sit down and rest, but having seen Zoltan he was reminded of their need to keep moving.
He had tried to argue with the girl before they’d left. He had put a hand on her shoulder, but she had pushed it away with a contemptuous look and carried on up the steps.
‘Please,’ James had called after her, ‘it’s too dangerous…’
But his words had faded on his lips. Too dangerous? Who was he kidding? This was the girl who had rescued him. Who had killed the guard. Who knew these mountains better than anyone. He was the one in danger, not her. She could perfectly well look after herself.
So he had shrugged and followed her.
The journey had been tedious and largely uneventful. The only thing that had broken the monotony was when a moufflon leapt across their path and James flung himself to the ground in fright. Vendetta laughed at him, but he didn’t care. He was glad that he was still alert. His nerves were wound so tightly that his reactions were incredibly quick and sharp. It was better to be cautious and alive than foolhardy and dead.
At last they stopped for water and Vendetta produced a half-eaten loaf.
James wasn’t sure what time it was; the fat moon still sat up in the sky and there was no glimmer of light from the east, but he knew that dawn came up fast here.
As he squatted in the dark to eat she watched him, like a mother watching her child, and he found himself endlessly chewing a dry lump of bread, unable to swallow under her curious gaze.
They heard a rustle in the undergrowth and the next thing they knew they were surrounded by wild pigs. They approached, making tiny grunts and squeaks, quite unafraid, their inquisitive wet noses sniffing the air.
James wondered what string of events, what cast of the dice had brought him here to the side of this Sardinian mountain in the middle of the night, sharing his breakfast with this strange, dangerous girl and a herd of wild pigs.
And he wondered how the game would end.
Well, he’d know the answer to that before the day was through.
Without warning, Vendetta was off again. James threw the crust of his bread to the pigs, sighed and stood up, his joints complaining. The girl was already way ahead. He tried to catch up with her, but she was too fast for him and was apparently able to see in the dark. He was constantly tripping and stumbling.
Hour after hour they hurried on, and James was just beginning to think he couldn’t go any further when he noticed a familiar peak and realised that they were near to Ugo’s stronghold. Vendetta slowed down now and they went more cautiously. At last James saw the wide curve of the dam and they stopped. They were on a steep cliff slightly below the dam and on the opposite side of the ravine to the palazzo. Vendetta hid herself behind a rock and nodded towards the aqueduct about 60 feet below.
Guards patrolled the dam and James knew that several more were stationed in the winch-house, but he could see no sign of anyone guarding the aqueduct.
The only problem was how to get down there.
Vendetta answered that question. She slipped over the edge of the cliff and started to climb down. James had no choice but to follow. He felt dreadfully exposed on the rock face. If one of the guards were to look over the parapet of the dam, he would easily spot them, so they descended as swiftly as they dared.
Thankfully, they made it safely down the cliff and got among the cover of some bushes. They rested for a while, then crawled through the undergrowth until they came to the edge of a dirt track and James saw a brick building set into the side of the hill where a sleepy guard dozed in a concrete sentry post.
What had Ugo said, all those days ago at dinner? That the water came down this side of the mountain through the turbines and into the aqueduct, which crossed over to the palazzo. The brick building must be the entrance to the turbine rooms where the electricity was generated.
Vendetta nodded towards the guard. James wondered if she meant for them to enter here and reach the aqueduct from the inside. That seemed hugely risky; they had no way of knowing what they would find inside, and there was the problem of how to get past the guard.
James was looking around for another route when he saw that
Vendetta had her knife between her teeth and was edging out of the bushes towards the guard.
He grabbed her and hauled her back, then shook his head. There would be no more killing if he could help it, and besides, he had seen something. Leading down the mountain towards the aqueduct was a thick iron pipe made of riveted sections.
He pointed to it and set off, skirting round the edge of the track then darting across it once he was out of sight of the sentry post.
Vendetta reluctantly followed. This was not her plan, but when James showed her how easy it was to slither down the pipe using the joins between each section for footholds, she smiled and joined him.
At the bottom water frothed and gurgled out of a large opening and into the canal in the top of the aqueduct.
The two of them peered across to the other side. The aqueduct was exposed for its whole length but James was confident that he could get over without being seen.
He put down his knapsack and opened it, Vendetta watching him with her gleaming, dark eyes. They went very wide when she saw what he had brought with him and was even more amazed when he slipped on the goggles and put the schnorkel between his teeth. She shrank back, scared for a moment. James laughed and pulled the goggles up on to his forehead.
‘I’m going now,’ he said. ‘You wait for me here.’ He pointed to the ground with both his hands. ‘Aspetta –’
‘No,’ she said walking towards the aqueduct. ‘Vengo con voi.’
‘You can’t come with me,’ said James angrily. ‘I can’t be responsible for you, and I need you here, to help us get away.’
‘Vengo con voi,’ she repeated and James pushed her roughly backwards.
‘Stay,’ he said as if to a dog and wished that he could speak her language properly. He put the goggles back on, grabbed the fins and moved towards the canal, but he sensed movement behind him and turned to see that she was following him.
‘Please,’ he said, desperately. ‘You can’t come. This is my problem, not yours.’ He pushed her back again, more gently this time, and turned away from her, but she suddenly leapt at him, knocking him over. Restricted by the goggles, he couldn’t see what was happening clearly and fell awkwardly, hitting his head on the hard ground. He twisted on to his back and tried to wrestle her off, but he was winded and she was lithe and muscular. It was like trying to fight with a wild animal. He didn’t want to hurt her, and had to put his hands up to defend his face as she landed a rain of vicious slaps down on his head.
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