Chapter 87: The Bandit: III
Yet the two young people had never actually declared their feelings for each other. They’d simply grown together like two trees whose roots intertwine beneath the earth, whose branches entangle above, whose combined fragrance rises to the sky. Their need to see each other had become absolute, they would have chosen death over a single day’s separation.
Teresa was sixteen and Luigi was seventeen when a gang of outlaws established themselves in the nearby mountains and became the talk of the region.
Bandits had never truly been eliminated from the area around Rome. Sometimes they’d lack a leader, but whenever a strong leader emerged, he rarely had trouble finding followers.
The notorious Cucumetto, pursued across multiple regions, driven from one kingdom where he’d waged an actual war, had crossed territorial borders and taken refuge along a riverbank between two small towns. He worked to gather a band of followers, walking in the footsteps of previous legendary bandits he hoped to surpass.
Many young men from the surrounding towns disappeared. At first their disappearances caused alarm, but soon everyone learned they’d joined Cucumetto’s gang. Eventually Cucumetto became universally known, with extraordinary stories told about his ferocious daring and brutality.
One day he kidnapped a young woman, the daughter of a land surveyor from a nearby town. The bandits’ code was absolute: a captured girl belonged first to whoever kidnapped her, then the others would draw lots for her, and she’d be subjected to their abuse until death ended her suffering. If her family was wealthy enough to pay ransom, they’d send a messenger to negotiate. The prisoner served as hostage ensuring the messenger’s safety. If the ransom was refused, the prisoner was irretrievably lost.
This girl’s lover was actually in Cucumetto’s gang, his name was Carlini. When she recognized him, the poor girl reached out her arms, believing she was saved. But Carlini’s heart sank, he knew exactly what fate awaited her.
However, since he was one of Cucumetto’s favorites, having served him faithfully for three years and once saved his life by shooting a soldier who was about to kill him, Carlini hoped the chief might show mercy.
He pulled Cucumetto aside while the young woman sat at the base of a huge pine tree in the forest’s center, using her decorative headscarf as a veil to hide her face from the bandits’ lustful stares. There he told the chief everything, his love for the prisoner, their promises to each other, how they’d been meeting secretly every night in some nearby ruins.
It happened that Cucumetto had sent Carlini to a village that particular night, preventing him from meeting her. Cucumetto claimed he’d been at their meeting place ’by accident’ and had taken the girl. Carlini begged his chief to make an exception for Rita, explaining that her father was wealthy and could pay a large ransom.
Cucumetto seemed to yield to his friend’s pleas and told him to find a shepherd to send to Rita’s father in town. Carlini rushed joyfully to Rita, telling her she was saved and asking her to write to her father, explaining what had happened. The ransom was set at three hundred gold coins. They had twelve hours, until nine the next morning.
The instant the letter was finished, Carlini grabbed it and hurried to find a messenger. He found a young shepherd watching his flock. Shepherds who lived between the city and the mountains, between civilization and wilderness, were the natural messengers for bandits. The boy accepted the task, promising to reach the town in under an hour.
Carlini returned eagerly to see his lover and share the good news. But when he found the gang in the clearing, eating a meal extorted from local peasants, his eyes searched in vain for Rita and Cucumetto.
He asked where they were and was answered with laughter. Cold sweat burst from every pore and his hair stood on end. He repeated his question. One of the bandits stood and offered him a glass of wine, saying, ’To the health of brave Cucumetto and beautiful Rita!’
At that moment Carlini heard a woman’s scream. He understood instantly. He smashed the glass across the face of the man who’d offered it and rushed toward the source of the cry. After running about a hundred yards around a thicket, he found Rita unconscious in Cucumetto’s arms.
Seeing Carlini, Cucumetto stood with a pistol in each hand. The two outlaws stared at each other, one with a lascivious smile, the other with death’s pallor on his face. A terrible confrontation seemed inevitable. But gradually Carlini’s features relaxed. His hand, which had gripped one of his own pistols, fell to his side.
Rita lay between them. Moonlight illuminated the scene.
’Well,’ Cucumetto said, ’did you send the message?’
’Yes, captain,’ Carlini replied. ’At nine tomorrow morning Rita’s father will be here with the money.’
’Good. Meanwhile, we’ll enjoy ourselves tonight. This girl is charming, you have excellent taste. Now, since I’m not selfish, we’ll return to our friends and draw lots for her.’
’So you’ve decided to subject her to the common treatment?’ Carlini asked.
’Why should an exception be made for her?’
’I thought my request-’
’What right do you have, more than anyone else, to ask for special treatment?’
’True enough.’
’Don’t worry,’ Cucumetto continued, laughing. ’Sooner or later your turn will come.’
"Carlini’s teeth clenched convulsively.
’Now then,’ Cucumetto said, moving toward the other bandits, ’are you coming?’
’I’m right behind you.’
Cucumetto left without losing sight of Carlini, clearly fearing a surprise attack. But Carlini showed no hostile intentions. He stood with folded arms near Rita, who remained unconscious.
For a moment Cucumetto thought the young man might grab her and run, but it didn’t matter now, Rita had been his. As for the money, three hundred coins divided among the entire gang was such a small amount per person that he barely cared about it. He continued toward the clearing, surprised when Carlini arrived almost as quickly as he did.
’Let’s draw lots!’ the brigands all cried when they saw their chief return.
Their demand was fair, and the chief nodded acceptance. All their eyes shone fiercely with anticipation, and the firelight made them look demonic. Every name, including Carlini’s, was placed in a hat. The youngest member drew a slip of paper. It bore the name of Diavolaccio, the same man who’d proposed the toast to Carlini, the one whose face Carlini had smashed with the glass.
A large wound, running from temple to mouth, bled freely down his face. Seeing himself chosen by fortune, Diavolaccio burst into loud laughter.
’Captain,’ he said, ’earlier Carlini wouldn’t drink to your health when I suggested it. Now you propose a toast to me and see if he’ll be more respectful to you than he was to me.’
Everyone expected Carlini to explode. But to their great surprise, he calmly took a glass in one hand and a bottle in the other, filled it, and said, ’To your health, Diavolaccio.’ He drank it down without his hand trembling even slightly.
Then, sitting by the fire, he said, ’I’ll have my supper now. That errand gave me an appetite.’
’Well done, Carlini!’ the brigands shouted. ’Now that’s how a true comrade acts!’ They all formed a circle around the fire while Diavolaccio disappeared into the darkness.
Carlini ate and drank as if nothing unusual had happened. The bandits watched this strange behavior with astonishment until they heard approaching footsteps. They turned to see Diavolaccio carrying the young woman in his arms, her head hanging back, her long hair sweeping the ground.