Beati Paoli

by Luigi Natoli

part three, chapter 17

English

The journey to Palermo was sad and silent. Blasco had set up two litters, down at the foot of the cliff, into one of which Gabriella woman entered, into the other Violante and Aunt Nora. The armed men, on horseback, preceded and followed in two groups the two litters, but next to that of woman Gabriella rode Blasco, next to the other Christian.

After that crisis that had almost made the Duchess a murderer and a suicide, she had ended up in a dark and desperate muteness. Blasco had tried a few words of comfort, to raise his spirit, to call her back to herself, but she did not answer him; only once he intensely fixed his dark and deep gaze on him and another time lifted his eyes up to the cliff on which he towered the castle, partly ruined, whose name and site he still ignored. It was the ancient castle of the Stone, whose ruins were still visible at the top of the fortress, from where the neighboring Alexandria had taken its name, built in 1570 by Blasco Barresi, lord of the castle.

The path crossed the coasts of high mountains, here and there covered with thick woods; it left to the right St. Stephen of Quisquina and sank among the slopes of Mount Carcaci. They spent the night at Prizzi where they left at dawn for Mezzojuso. Looked like a group of gentlemen coming back from their manor. The rattles of the mules attached to the litters resonated, and it seemed as if other groups traveled unknown and mysterious ways. Rocca Busambra wrapped in the shadow of its high ridges the travelers, who crossed the state of Godrano in which the Bosco di Ficuzza put a large black and scary spot. The following night they stayed in Marineo; everyone slept except Blasco and Gabriella. They had been housed in the castle of the Marquis, but Blasco had divided the women and fearing doubly that Gabriella woman or attacking herself, or that she would be carried away by jealousy against Violante, had settled in the room before the room of Gabriella woman. But she had become almost an automaton, she let herself be driven everywhere, without her own will and throughout the night she did not make herself heard.

When Aunt Nora knocked on her door the next morning to ask her if she needed anything, she was amazed to see her beautiful and dressed, as the day before, sitting by the window, with her forehead leaning on the palm of her hand, just as she had left her the evening before.

They set off on the daylight. The journey continued towards Misilmeri, in silence. By now they were approaching the city, where they would arrive a few hours later, as Misilmeri is not far from the capital more than nine miles. The road crossed a gorge, called Portella, which was a nest of robbers and robbers where almost always the travelers and the carmen were assaulted and plundered.

The group had traveled regions and districts very infested by thieves, but had taken care to take unbeaten paths and to get away from the road usually traveled by the travelers and the "canceddi," along which the country thieves were lurking to carry out their businesses profitably. They had, then, so far made the journey without any incident that could have frightened or compromised the personal integrity of women. But here they had no other way to choose: Even if they wanted to take a few shortcuts, they should have crossed that step first. In fear of some encounter Blasco sent Christian and one of his men to search the way: He and another one put the litters in front of him, and the other two of the escort put them behind him.

They were six determined men, who would not retreat before a battalion.

Christian and his companion pushed the horses of good trot, but they had not made a third of a mile, who came across a rural company, with his captain and the algozino. The algozino was Matteo Lo Vecchio.

They stopped Christian, greeting him in the way of the peasants:

"Jesus and Mary!"

The captain asked:

"Are you farmyards?"

"Yes, sir."

"Whose?"

"From the illustrious knight of Floresta."

"Good. Have you observed anyone suspicious on the street?"

"Nobody, Captain..." Meanwhile, the armored companions had surrounded the two fields, cutting them with a double row of retreat to the litters. At a nod they spread the rifles on the campers.

"On the ground!" ordered the captain.

Christian paled and bit his finger, with a big blasphemy; so, almost by a sudden resolution, he let himself fall from the horse and treat the gun from the belt he did the act of pulling the captain, but some companions pushed the horse on him and landed him. In short, Christian and his companion, despite defending themselves by fists and kicks, were tied, beaten, thrown at the horses, like two turns, and taken away by some comrades of arms.

"And this is one," said Matteo Lo Vecchio; "the best comes now. Go forward, I will come far away; but beware that the beast is wild..."

The captain made a gesture as if to say he had something to do with him. Among those talents, who, although not ignoble at birth, threw themselves into the underworld by becoming thieves, blackmailers, overseers, murders, and then ending up in the service of justice; the rural companies were in fact recruited among the flower of the ruination of the countryside. They often held the bag to the bandits, especially if they were left at the mercy of themselves; they became fiercely berriest, if they had promised rewards from some baron engaged in the enterprise.

The company moved away to the pass, while Matteo Lo Vecchio, disassembled from a horse, sat on a rock. The comrades went in a quiet and relaxed air, so as not to arouse suspicion: turning the corner that the road formed on the slope of the hill, they found themselves in front of the group.

Blasco went back but did not prove it and continued to move forward with a quiet appearance: the path was not so wide that the litters and the squadron of the rural armored companions could pass through it at the same time. The captain greeted Blasco respectfully and ordered his people to stop and let go: The armored companions divided themselves into two wings, taking sides from here and there, leaving the group in the middle. They held the rifles through the arch, on their thighs: And Blasco, looking at his closest companion, realized that the gun had the dog up. A suspicion flashed to his mind; the suspicion became certain to him when he saw the path closed by two companions who placed themselves in the center, and the others raised their rifles and targeted him and the three campers.

"Stop!" cried the captain; "let no one move unless he wants to die!"

Blasco paled; not for himself, but for the women, who had joined themselves to that cry by the litters, frightened, not knowing who they ran into; Blasco said to the captain:

"Lord, perhaps you are in misunderstanding."

"I will give you the misunderstanding!" said the captain arrogantly and turned to his companions, adding: "if he moves, let him dance the bear."

Blasco felt his nerves stiffened and his anger tightened his jaws.

"The first one who dares to put a finger on me, I'll kill him like a dog!... What do you want?"

"Nothing but arrest you, tie you up, and lead you to the castle..."

"Me?"

"Order of the King..."

"Just me?"

"Just you, the nominated Blasco from Castiglione..."

There was a minute's silence; Blasco tremendously looked at his three fields, which stood still, impassioned, and his armored companions with rifles spread out; he looked at the litters; opposite thoughts held out in his spirit. Of course, if there had been no middle women, who could have been affected in a conflict, he would not have discussed too much about the party to be taken, but on the other hand let himself be taken in that way...

He lived a moment so intense and dizzying that he seemed to have lived ten years: A cold sweat moistened his forehead. He embraced his position with a strategic glance. He was surrounded by three sides by ten of his fellow armors; on the other side he had the litters: He could not open a passage from the sides, because the path was encircled, nor behind, because there were the litters, his fields and the other comrades of arms; if he could ever try from the front where the pass was closed to him by the captain and by a comrade of arms. Forcing that step? It was to be tried, of course, because the comrades of arms found themselves in front of each other, they would have been in danger of killing each other, if he had strayed from their aim with a lightning move. But in this case, how could he not leave the ladies at the mercy of that horde? All these reflections followed almost at the same time, with the same speed with which at night, when a lightning flashes, the monstrous ghosts of the clouds bulwark in the dark sky.

"Excuse me, Captain," he said with a surrender that concealed a slight bit of irony; "to arrest me and lead me to the Castle, you will certainly have an order..."

"I have it, and if I didn't have it, it would be the same thing..."

"Bravo! I can tell you're a man in the true sense of the word. And I'm almost happy to have you arrest me. But you will do me the favor, at least, to tell me if even these ladies that I accompany, and these campers, that do not belong to me, must be arrested..."

The captain blew up the gouts a little.

"The ladies," he said, "no... As for the fields... you will see!..." "And then, have the goodness to have their palace accompanied The illustrious Mrs. Duchess and the Duchess of Motta, because I had to do this office on behalf of Mr. Duke... It means that the ladies will apologize to Mr. Duke, and Mr. Duke will then think of him... rewarding you with what you do."

These words embarrassed the captain a little; arresting Blasco was fine; Matteo Lo Vecchio had the order and had promised him besides the size a big prize on behalf of a lord; but the two ladies, who belonged, no less, to one of the highest characters of the kingdom... those had to not only send them free, but serve them with all due care, and have them accompanied to the palace of Mr. Duke.

"It is righteous," he said; and turning to his men, he added: "Did you hear that? So beware of you."

Blasco smiled under his nose and filmed:

"So, Mr. Captain, if you don't mind, let the ladies in first, 'cause you don't look like they're escorting an arrested man."

The captain found this proposal reasonable and, beckoning to two comrades of arms to tighten up in Blasco, he said:

"Pick him in the middle and if he tries to escape, kill him."

And while one of the comrades took Blasco's horse to the bridle, the captain ordered those who blocked the road to let go and the litterers go on.

But Gabriella, a pale and mute woman who had witnessed this scene from the door of the litter, cried out to the litterers:

"Stop!"

The captain marveled at that counter order, but Gabriella woman, opened the door of the litter and showed herself in all her dark beauty, said to him:

"My litter receives no orders but from me... And as for the gentleman, I warn you that I will not return to my palace unless I am delivered to the Duke of Motta, my husband, by Mr. Blasco from Castiglione. Take care of what you do..."

The captain would have wanted to answer with his insolent arrogance, but since the Duke of Motta let himself be advised by prudence and apologized:

"Very illustrious... are the orders..."

"Who did you receive them from? From the Viceroy?... From my husband?..."

From his Violant litter, with his hands joined, his face suffused with fear, assisted in silence; his heart beat them in the chest with violence and his inner voice called with fervent preci divine help. At that moment, when she saw her stepmother defend Blasco, she forgot what she had suffered from her, and in her heart she blessed her.

But while the captain, embarrassed, because he would not have displeased the Duchess from whom he could hope for some advantage, did not resolve, and that his men despite the curiosity were distracted to look, a wonderful fact happened.

Blasco had tormented his horse with the spurs, who braked by him and held for the bite, he was shaking under him and he had spins for all his muscles. Taking advantage of that instant of inattention, and finding the step open before him, he, at the same time bowing down on the neck of the generous animal, gave a formidable punch on the arm of the armmate holding the brake and a violent spurt in the hips of the horse.

He loosened his hand; this free, impatient, excited jumped, passed through the passage, burst out of his career with a terrible scream.

Screams of fear, of amazement, of anger, they answered him, to whom immediately followed a fearsome discharge of rifles and a cloud wrapped up the litters.

"Get on him!... up! on him!" cried the captain with foam in his mouth, "take him at all costs!..."

The shots had been pulled at the moment that Blasco disappeared behind the curve of the path and none took it; only a ball, bounced from a rock, crushed himself in his leg. In the turmoil of that moment, in rushing for that daring and unruly escape, the comrades of arms forgot the campers, who took advantage of that confusion fled to the opposite side, to Misilmeri, but not without blowing three shots against the comrades of arms, among which increased the turmoil for fear of a counterattack behind them.

The shotgun shot Matteo Lo Vecchio who, suspecting some devilry - and from Blasco expected all the colors, armed with rifle, looked down the path, and recognized Blasco. He sensed; he threw himself aside, stung the rifle, and as he saw it passing, he shot him almost point-blank. Blasco's roar revealed to him that he had struck him; in fact he seemed to see him scramble, but instead he had hit the poor horse on a shoulder who, taking two steps, stumbled on the ground. With a triumphant cry the birre ran, but Blasco was already standing with the bow in his hand; as soon as he saw Matteo Lo Vecchio at hand, he shouted:

"Ah, dog! Are you here?..."

And when he lifted his rifle, he kicked a blow on his head.

The birro fell without even saying: ah!

A scalpith of horses turned Blasco, who saw him coming. On him, galloping, five or six comrades. His horse blocked the path; landing another was almost a barricade between himself and his companions: And he targeted him that galloped before, and fired: Horses and knights rode up and overwhelmed on the ground. Blasco then spread up the coast of the hill, steeped in stones and hedges, where to him, pedestrian, the escape by serpenting and escaping the aim of others was in a certain way easy; he succeeded, instead, difficult to the horses forced to jump obstacles at every step... Some shots chased him: The companions pushed the horses up the hill, but Blasco had above them the advantage of the time and the agility of the preservation instinct. Donna Gabriella, at the escape of Blasco had sent a cry of joy and jumped out of the litter, trepidating; Violante had followed her: They were both invaded by fear at the shots; the girl had thrown herself on the ground, crying out:

"Oh, God! Oh, God!..."

He couldn't find any other words.

Donna Gabriella, on the other hand, had shouted:

"Captain!... Captain! Don't let them shoot!..."

But the captain, who saw himself escaping the prey, didn't listen to her.

In a moment the comrades of arms disappeared.

Some, dismayed by the surprise of the three shots fired from the runaway fields, had descended down the path towards the valley; the others had set themselves with the captain to chase Blasco. The anguish of the path prevented them from running all together and the two horses and the companion of fallen weapons formed a barrier, which forced them to linger a little.

In short, Gabriella and Violante found themselves alone, with their aunt Nora, the litterers and the mules that, in the midst of such a sudden noise, after having straightened their ears, were with their muzzle landed, perhaps dreaming of the bag of oats and bran. The Duchess looked around, and her eyes stared at Violante, whose appearance expressed a whole crowd of feelings; they had a gloomy and threatening whaling, but they fell back in their gloom. Imperiously he said to his stepdaughter:

"Get them in the litter."

Violant obeyed without saying a word.

Gabriella also climbed into her litter, but she did not give orders to the litterers to walk, because from the other coast of the hill, from whence the comrades of arms had disappeared, they resonated shotgun shots and fear held her back.

Shortly afterward they saw two companions return to arms, carrying on the back of a horse Matteo Lo Vecchio with his head and his face horribly covered with blood, motionless, lifeless.

That sight, that blood filled the women with horror, who turned back and closed their eyes. Donna Gabriella feared to meet other wounded, other dead, to see more blood, to have to cross a battlefield; her fear grew; she ordered the litterers:

"Let's go back!... Back to Misilmeri!..."

But Violante thought of Blasco. What if he's hurt, dying, in the middle of the street, at the mercy of those bad guys?

"Mrs. Mother," she timidly said, protruding her head out of the litter, "does she want to abandon Mr. Blasco? What if some misfortune had happened to him?"

Donna Gabriella paled and resumed her gloomy expression, illuminated by an ironic and jealous flash.

"Would you like to run and save him?..."

One of the jugglers intervened:

"If your Excellency is eager to go to Palermo, you could take another road instead of going back."

"What way?" asked the Duchess.

"A shortcut. It is a difficult path, but you go safe from encounters..."

Donna Gabriella reflected a minute and said: "Let's go!"

The mules, scowling the rattles, pushed by the litterers, repaired for a stretch the road they crossed, then bent on a small path marked between the stones and the spots by the peasants who crossed the mountain. The path was winding on the rather steep coast, and the ascent was long. At about 22 hours, Gabriella and Violante returned to Motta's palace.

Aunt Nora had descended to Porta di Termini and had left on foot for one of those alleys.