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head. “Tomorrow you will rest in your own bed.”
    Astorre closed his eyes to fall asleep immediately on the ground next to the Don. “Stay beside me,” the Don said, as he reached his arms around the boy.
    Astorre slept so soundly that the rising cinder-red sun was over his head when a clatter awoke him. He rose and saw that the hollow was filled with fifty armed men. Don Aprile, gentle, calm, and dignified, was sitting on a great ledge of stone, sipping from a mug of coffee.
    Don Aprile saw Astorre and beckoned to him. “Astorre, do you want some coffee?” He pointed a finger at the man before him. “This is my good friend, Bianco. He has rescued us.”
    Astorre saw a huge man who, though he was well encased in fat, wore a suit and tie, and seemed to be unarmed, was far more frightening than Fissolini. He had a curly head of white hair and large pink eyes, and he radiated power. But he seemed to blanket that power when he spoke with a soft, gravelly voice.
    Octavius Bianco said, “Don Aprile, I must apologize for being so late and that you had to sleep like a peasant on the ground. But I came as soon as I got the news. I always knew Fissolini was a dunce, but I never expected him to do this.”
    There began the sound of hammering, and some men moved out of Astorre’s vision. He saw two young boys, nailing together a cross. Then, lying on the far side of the hollow, he saw Fissolini and his ten bandits trussed on the ground and tethered to trees. They were encased by a web of wire and rope, their limbs entwined. They looked like a mound of flies on a lump of meat.
    Bianco asked, “Don Aprile, which of these scum do you wish to judge first?”
    “Fissolini,” the Don said. “He is the leader.”
    Bianco dragged Fissolini before the Don; he was still tightly bound, like a mummy. Bianco and one of his soldiers lifted him and forced him to stand. Then Bianco said, “Fissolini, how could you be so stupid? Didn’t you know the Don was under my protection or I would have kidnapped him myself? Did you think you were just borrowing a flask of oil? Some vinegar? Have I ever entered your province? But you were always headstrong, and I knew you would come to grief. Well, since like Jesus you must hang from the cross, make your apologies to Don Aprile and his little boy. And I will give you mercy and shoot you before we hammer in the nails.”
    “So,” the Don said to Fissolini. “Explain your disrespect.”
    Fissolini stood upright and proud. “But the disrespect was not for your person, Excellency. I did not know how important and dear you were to my friends. That fool, Bianco, might have kept me fully informed. Excellency, I have made a mistake and I must pay.” He stopped for a moment and then shouted angrily and scornfully at Bianco, “Stop those men from hammering those nails. I’m going deaf. And you can’t scare me to death before you kill me!”
    Fissolini paused again and said to the Don, “Punish me, but spare my men. They followed my orders. They have families. You will destroy an entire village if you kill them.”
    “They are responsible men,” Don Aprile said sarcastically. “I would insult them if they did not share your fate.”
    At this moment Astorre, even in his child’s mind, realized that they were talking life and death. He whispered, “Uncle, don’t hurt him.” The Don made no sign of having heard.
    “Go on,” he said to Fissolini.
    Fissolini gave him a questioning look, at once proud and wary. “I will not beg for my life. But those ten men lying there are all in my blood family. If you kill them, you destroy their wives and their children. Three of them are my sons-in-law. They had absolute faith in me. They trusted my judgment. If you let them go, I would make them swear their undying loyalty to you before I die. And they will obey me. That is something, to have ten loyal friends. That is not nothing. I am told you are a great man, but you cannot be truly great if you do not