Between Enemies Read Online Free PDF Page A

saddle, screwed in his monocle and brought his right hand up to his temple, as stiff as an iron wing.
    ‘Captain Korpium,’ said my aunt.
    The captain, with a twitch of irritation, ejected the monocle.
    ‘Madame, your river Piave was not favourable to us, but I am still in one piece. I dare say you are not pleased.’ He pronounced the Italian vowels with a studied precision that endowed them with a roundness hard to credit in the mouth of a foreigner. The hard edge of his voice struggled with a warmth diminished, perhaps banished, by the brutality of war.
    ‘Captain, have you had me summoned just to let me know you are still alive?’
    ‘I want you to enter the church immediately after me…Fetch the girls out: they will need to hear a woman’s voice. Call your maids, give me five minutes and not a second longer, then enter.’
    He turned his horse with gentle pressure of the heels, and went off at a walk.
    Aunt Maria turned swiftly to me. ‘Call Teresa and Loretta. Quick!’
    But they were both there already, as well as Renato.
    ‘Renato, we won’t need you at the moment.’
    The steward nodded. I noticed that Loretta was trying to catch his eye. Teresa gave her a
diambarne de l’ostia
accompanied by a snort.
    Teresa never took the name of the devil in vain, but preferred to use that nickname lest she should inadvertently conjure him up.
    I too started off towards the church, and Aunt Maria made no attempt to stop me. Teresa’s looks were black as a thundercloud.
    And the hoofs of the bay horse climbing the church stepswere like the crackle of thunder that follows the lightning. Like drums out of rhythm, as if the trident of hell itself, fallen from the hand of Lucifer, were tumbling step by step down a rocky stairway.
    The captain shouted an order. Two privates and a sergeant forced the church door, which opened with a grinding of metal. The church within was almost as bright as daylight. I sidled in behind a pillar. There were candles everywhere, on the pews and on the altars. The bay reared up, and the captain drew his sabre. I saw the girls clinging tightly to each other, five of them, sitting on the steps of the high altar. They were naked. Four soldiers got to their feet in various places. I heard the sound of a wine fiasco rolling about. The captain’s horse approached the tallest and burliest of the men, whose jacket was open and chest bared as he held out his hands to ward off the blow. The flat of the blade struck him on the head. There was a sharp cry. It didn’t come from the soldier, who crumpled to the ground, but from the girls. The fallen man tried to struggle to his feet, but his legs folded beneath him and he fell again, face down as if he had a broken back. I saw another two men get up in different parts of the church. They quickly formed a group, reached the high altar and stood shakily in line at attention.
    The captain walked his horse round among the overturned pews, extinguished a cluster of candles at one swipe, and drew up with his horse’s nose almost in the soldiers’ faces. The girls were all gazing silently towards the door. The captain uttered a few words which I didn’t understand. The men might have been made of wax, like candles gradually melting. I watched them leave in Indian file, completely mute, heads hanging; a squad resigned to an ancient tradition of discipline and death. The struck man lay still. The captain rode over him, the horsetaking a long step to avoid the body. In came my aunt with the two servants. Spotting me, she said, ‘See to Don Lorenzo. Look in the tower.’
    I found the priest bound to the circular staircase of the bell tower. I pulled out the piece of rag he was gagged with. He said not a word, but panted like a thirsty dog. He avoided my eyes. It took me a good three minutes, maybe more, to untie all the knots. When I had finished he gripped my shoulders with both hands and croaked something, of which I only understood the word ‘water’. I