heifer. Quickly, my pet. Onto your hands and knees, and I shall love you as the bull does the heifer.' And he turned her onto her stomach, pushing her knees up. Swiftly he mounted her, sighing happily at the warm, wet welcome of her, his hands fondling the breasts that hung, quivering. She gasped with pleasure as he rode, crying her rapture at the waves of delight washing over her. It didn't stop. He was utterly inexhaustible as he drove deeper and deeper into her, again and again, until she finally fainted.
When she regained consciousness he had turned her onto her back and was bending anxiously over her. She reached up a slim hand, touching his cheek gently, and said, ''Tis all right, Cica.' And then she felt him spreading her thighs to push himself into her again. Above her the moon passed slowly over the glass dome, leaving the black sky to fade with the dawn.
Chapter 52
FRANCIS Stewart-Hepburn reached Avellino to find that the bandits who had been plaguing the district had disappeared as suddenly as they had come. Their recent presence was distressingly evident in the burned-out farm's, fresh graves, and frightened women and children.
For several days Bothwell and his men poked about. Discovering nothing, they returned to the Villa del Pesce d'Oro and found an empty house. There were six new graves in the garden.
Fortunately for the earl's sanity, the head gardener had been waiting for his master to return. Nodding to the graves, Carlo said, 'Paolo, Maria, and the maids. The little May is with me. Signora la contessa and Susan were carried off. Come, my lord. The girl can tell you. She was there but escaped somehow. I know not how, for she has not spoken much since she fled to us almost three weeks ago. I think, however, that she will speak to you.'
At the sight of them, May flung herself into Conall's arms weeping. 'Ohhhh, Uncle Conall, 'twas terrible! The pirates carried off my mistress and Susan!'
Conall grasped the girl hard by her shoulders. 'Pull yerself together, lassie, and tell us exactly what happened. Think carefully, May, and leave nothing out.'
Gulping her sobs back, the girl rallied. 'Susan and I were sleeping on the trundle in my lady's room while ye were away. It was Sunday dawn, and we awoke to a terrible screaming. When we ran to the windows and looked out, the garden was full of Turkish pirates! Paolo was already dead. They bashed his head in while he was cutting the herbs for the breakfast eggs. Maria and the girls had their throats cut… after the pirates were finished with them. They were r-r-r-' But she couldn't get the word out, and Bothwell put a gentle hand over her mouth.
'Don't lassie. We can imagine what happened. Tell us how you escaped. Tell us of my wife and your sister,' and he withdrew his hand.
Two large tears ran down the girl's cheeks, but she began again. 'My lady bid my sister and me hide in the linen chest, but Susan would not. She told my lady it dinna matter what happened to her, since she was nae a virgin. 'Twas a lie she told, my lord, for Susan is as virgin as I am!' And unable to help herself, May began to cry again.
They let her weep for a few minutes, and then Both-well said quietly, 'Go on, lass. What happened next?'
'They hid me in the chest, and bid me not move until 'twas absolutely quiet, and I was sure the pirates had gone. Then I was to go to Carlo's and remain until ye returned. No sooner was the lid down than I heard the bedchamber door being smashed in, and then I heard the pirates entering. They dinna hurt my lady or Susan, but they took them away.'
'Did they say anything you could understand, Susan?' asked Conall.
The girl thought a moment, then her features cleared. 'Aye! The captain was very polite to my lady. He said his name was… it sounded like 'Karoteen.' He also said he had orders to take my lady to the grand vizier, Cica- something Pasha.'
'Santa Maria!' gasped Carlo. He did not understand the girl's story, because she spoke in her own language, but he understood the names she spoke.
'Khair-ad-Din, my lord,' he said excitedly. 'Kapitan Khair-ad-Din-the namesake, and some say the grandson, of the great Kapitan Pasha of Suleiman the Magnificent! He is in the personal service of Cicalazade Pasha, the grand vizier of the Ottoman Empire.'
'But what would some damned Turk want with my wife?'
Carlo looked uncomfortable. Bearers of bad tidings were never liked. Still, his lord must know. 'Cicalazade Pasha is only half-Turkish. His father is the Conte di Cicala, my lord. He is also the older brother of the Contessa de LiCosa.'
'I will personally kill the bitch,' said Bothwell in a deadly voice.
'Not if I reach her first,' said Conall quietly.
Simultaneously they turned, mounted their horses, and rode to the Conte di LiCosa's home.
As quiet as the grounds at the Villa del Pesce d'Oro had been, those at the Villa del Mare were quieter. At first Bothwell feared it deserted. But when they reached the house a servant ran out to take their horses, and another escorted them to Alfredo di LiCosa.
'I want Angela,' said Bothwell with no preamble.
'You are too late, my friend. The Inquisition has her. She will burn tomorrow in the main market square of Naples.'
'Have you seen her? Can she still talk? Do you know what she did? She has sent my wife into slavery in her brother's harem! I must talk with her before she dies!'
'So that was it,' sighed Alfredo di LiCosa. 'Her servant, Barto, was caught signaling the Turkish pirates. He implicated her, and then accused her of witchcraft, claiming that she held his soul in bondage so he was forced to do her bidding. Naturally the Inquisition heard and came for her immediately. They have been waiting for something like this, for Angela has made no secret of her contempt for the church. It was as if she'd gone mad! She laughed at them, and made no attempt to save herself. I don't think she really believed it. They didn't even bother to torture her, they simply condemned her to the stake. And she truly doesn't care.'
'Where is she being kept, Alfredo?'
'In Naples at the Inquisition prison. I will go with you, Francisco, and we will get Bishop Pasquale too. He can get us the necessary permissions.'
Bothwell nodded. 'Tell me, Fredo, is there anything Angela is afraid of? Anything at all? I must have a lever to force her to talk with me.'
'Snakes,' answered the Conte di LiCosa. 'Angela is terrified of snakes.'
Bothwell looked to Conall and nodded. 'Go back to the gardener, man.'
Conall returned the nod. 'Aye! I'll get them, and I'll meet you at the cross of San Genaro on the Naples road.'
With his captain-at-arms gone, Bothwell turned again to the conte. 'I am sorry, Fredo. I would not add to your pain. I know you love Angela. I want my wife back. If I must move heaven and hell to get her, I will!'
'You'll never see her again, Francisco. If Angela sent Caterina to Cicalazade Pasha, your wife is gone. If you could even get as far as Istanbul she would already be either dishonored or dead. Face your loss, and accept it as I am accepting mine.'
'Never! Do you think I care if she's forced by another man as long as I can have her back? Do not tell me that I cannot get her back, for I can, and I will!'
The Conte di LiCosa shook his head sadly, but as he had promised, he accompanied Bothwell on his journey. First they saw Bishop Pasquale who, hearing the story, changed from his clerical robes into his riding clothes and led the way to the Naples road.
Conall was already waiting by the San Genaro cross, a small covered reed basket attached to his saddle. It was close to evening by the time they reached the city. Had the bishop not been with them Bothwell was sure they would never have been admitted to the grim black stone fortress. All the windows were barred, and smoking pitch torches lit the entrance.
Riding authoritatively up to the entrance, the bishop demanded immediate entry and speech with the prison governor. They were quickly admitted. Conall gingerly removed the basket from the pommel horn of his saddle and
