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“Gentlemen.” Franco stood atop the table to be seen and heard. “I summoned you from your beds to tell you terrible news. Before I do, I admit that even though I predicted Don Bruno would move against us, I didn’t know he would stoop so low.”
The men exchanged quizzical looks, and murmuring rippled through the crowd.
“I have in my hand a note delivered to me tonight, from Don Bruno.” Franco held up the piece of notepaper. “I’ll read it to you, but brace yourselves for a terrible shock.”
The men leaned closer. A hush came over them, and Franco unfolded the piece of paper.
“You can’t see it from where you are, but I’ll read it to you. The note says, ‘I have Roberto.’ See for yourself these awful words!” Franco held up the note, which he had forged, copying Don Bruno’s handwriting exactly:
I HAVE ROBERTO
“Madonna!” the men erupted, electrified. “Don Roberto’s been abducted!” “Don Bruno will kill him!” “We have to save him!” Franco’s men raised fists and guns. Roberto’s soldiers raged for the blood of Don Bruno.
“Yes!” Franco added fuel to the fire of their anger. “Don Bruno will kill Don Roberto! Don Bruno will kill my brother, my twin! We cannot let him! They’ll have to kill all of us first! We’ll have the blood of Don Bruno and his men! We’ll kill each and every one of the filthy Marescas! We’ll save Don Roberto!”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” the men chanted, hoisting fists, guns, and clubs. Fury reddened their faces. Roberto’s right-hand man, a muscleman named Mauro, was angriest of all.
“This iswar!” Franco hollered. “We’ll save Don Roberto! We’ll protect ourselves and our families! We’ll save our wives and children! We’ll defend our business and everything we have here! This land! Our homes! Ourgiardini! Our family!”
“Yes, yes, yes!” the men shouted, whipped into a frenzy.
“We need your bravery! We need your loyalty! You are men of honor! Prove it tonight!”
“Yes!” the men shouted louder, firing into the sky, sending birds flapping in terror.
“I’ll lead you in battle! We’ll rescue my twin, and we’ll destroy Don Bruno and the filthy Marescas!”
The men fired again, and gunshots filled the night. Ferrous smoke from the guns and oily torches billowed in the darkness.
“This will be our battle flag!” Franco waved the forged note. “We are the Fiorvantis! Now, to Mussomeli!”
“To Mussomeli!” the men cried, shooting into the smoke.
CHAPTER EIGHTY
Lucia crouched at the entrance to her cave, as night fell. The air was still, and the mouse family watched her from their ledge. Every night, she wrestled with herself, trying to decide whether to go back to Dante at the madhouse. She missed him, but she didn’t want to get killed and she didn’t want to kill anybody else.
She watched the sky darken, and the stars began to shine, each one coming to life, which was usually the time Dante called for her. Her ears pricked up, anticipating the sound. He hadn’t called yet tonight, and it worried her. As long as he was calling her, he was safe, and the thought eased her aching heart.
Suddenly Lucia heard someone calling her, but it wasn’t Dante. She thought her ears were playing tricks on her. She waited for the call, which came again.
“Lucia!” a man called, but she didn’t recognize the voice.
Lucia jumped to her feet. If Dante wasn’t calling her, it had to mean he had been harmed, or was gone.
She slipped her bag over her shoulder and hurried from the cave.
The mouse family watched her go.
Lucia stood behind a treeand peered through the break in the wall behind the madhouse. The doctor was standing beside a smallwooden table with a candelabra on top, his white coat bright in the gloom. She realized he must have been the one calling her.
Lucia shouted, “Where’s Dante?”
“You, thank God! I’m Baron Pisani! Please come in!”
“Where is he? Did you hurt him?”
“No, I would never. Come in, I’ll explain.”
