Lucy shook her head. “So sad.”
Bo Peep and the feathered man, too, said, “So sad.”
“What was so sad?” asked Noah, looking from one to another.
“What was sad, Lucy? Explain,” demanded Faye.
“Antonio broke his mother’s heart,” said Lucy. “She never knew—he was never coming back.”
“And give away,” said Bo Peep.
“To who?” asked Lucy.
“Them,” the feathered man said, bitterness in his voice.
“Them?” Noah asked.
“Komar Romak,” said Bo Peep and the feathered man at once.
“Komar Romak?!” said Miss Brett and the children all at once— except Lucy, for whom this was obvious.
“They,” said Bo Peep.
“After too long, I go dark,” said the feathered man. “The knife with them—”
Bo Peep said something, and the feathered man stopped. He took a deep breath. Lucy covered her ears again.
“The nine wounds,” said the feathered man.
“Nine?” asked Noah, holding up his fingers.
“Yes!” cried Lucy, who saw Noah’s fingers. She uncovered her ears and explained, “That’s what the newspaper said! You went in there, into the dark tunnel, but they’d already come and . . . and . . .” But she couldn’t say it, and she hid her face again in Jasper’s arms.
“Seven spirit, back and gut. Two then,” said the feathered man, “in the heart. Always two.”
“Is?” asked Lucy looking up.
“Yes,” Bo Peep said.
“What?” asked Noah.
“It’s a symbol,” said Lucy. “But I don’t understand it.”
“The number of wounds?” asked Faye.
“Yes, and the two. It means something that there is always two.” Then Lucy looked up at the men. “It is, isn’t it? It’s the symbol.”
Bo Peep nodded. The others did not need to ask this time. It had to be Komar Romak.
“I go him, not dead,” the feathered man said. “I . . . I move. He cry out. Pull me. Tear my cloak. He try me. Komar Romak map. Map to Abruzzo, to Solemano. He want the . . .” He said something they did not understand. “Komar Romak knows. Komar Romak want it,” he said. “Komar Romak say but no. Antonio dream. Antonio wrong. Too late. But Antonio. He not to Komar Romak. Not to any.”
“He bring word,” Bo Peep said in a voice full of worry. “The children. They come. It mean the move. Must us.”
The feathered man reached into a pocket in his feathered jacket. He pulled out a torn, wrinkled, folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, they could see that it was a map. Or, that is, it was a part of a map—a map of Italy.
“What is this?” asked Miss Brett.
“Antonio hand. Map, tear it,” the feathered man said. “This is part. Maybe more.”
“What does that mean?” Wallace asked.
But the feathered man just shook his head.
Miss Brett and the children stared at these two men. They had explained more than any man in black had ever explained before. But none of them but Lucy was entirely sure what had just been explained.
“It was Antonio who made the meeting with that Komar Romak, wasn’t it?” asked Lucy.
Noah shook his head as if to get the words out. “Not him,” he said.
“Not him,” said Bo Peep.
“Not him?” squeaked Wallace, who was cowering behind Miss Brett.
“Not,” said the feathered man.
“Him,” said Bo Peep. “Never the him.”
“I . . . we don’t understand,” Miss Brett croaked, her throat suddenly dry.
Lucy squirmed out of Jasper’s grip. Her face was pale, but she spoke clearly
“Yes, we do,” she said. “Antonio didn’t want to just be happy. He didn’t want to be a man in black. He wanted lots of things—not hats and frocks, but things. I think he wanted to be a big rich man and a show-off, and he made a deal with Komar Romak, who somehow got to him.”
“But Komar Romak didn’t come here.” Miss Brett was anxious. “They said, ‘Not him.’”
“Not him,” said Lucy. “Komar Romak.”
“Lucy.” Jasper tried to get her to come back to him, but she didn’t. She went over to the feathered man and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Int imdejjaq,” she said.
“What?” Noah asked.
“Lucy?” Jasper gawked.
“It’s Maltese,” said Lucy. “I was just telling him I knew he was sad.”
“I don’t even want to know how you know Maltese,” said Noah.
“I only know a few words,” said Lucy. “There was a book with translations.”
“But what about Komar Romak?!” shouted Faye. “The only thing that matters is if Komar Romak is in Solemano. Is Komar Romak here?”
“Is,” said Bo Peep.
“How?!” cried Noah. “It’s insane! We were in caves and blew things up and hid and . . . it’s impossible. How?”
“I don’t know how,” said Lucy.
“Map,” said Bo Peep. “Pieces of map.”
“But that wouldn’t tell him where we were,” said Faye.
“Did Komar Romak know of the village?” asked Miss Brett.
“He must have,” said Jasper.
Feathered man started to say, “Not—”
“Just stop!” Faye said. “It was Komar Romak who set fire to the post carriage. Komar Romak was after Antonio’s box.”
Feather man nodded. Bo Peep, too,
“We must ask Signora Fornaio if she saw anyone strange with her son,” Miss Brett said, standing tall and speaking with authority. “We must find out if she saw anything that might lead us to Komar Romak, or at least let us know whether he was here.”
Bo Peep said, “Not—”
“Shut up!” cried Faye. “Whatever you are taking about doesn’t matter now.” Faye looked pleadingly at Jasper, then Miss Brett.
“Well, we can go ask Signora Fornaio,” said Miss Brett. “And we can warn her.”
“She must be up at the bakery, at her home,” said Faye. “The shepherd came and walked her down.”
“Shepherd?” The feathered man stood abruptly.
“Yes, you know—the little old shepherd who is always around,” said Faye.
“He brought his sheep over the Forca di Penne passage this winter,” Miss Brett said. “He’s been sharing his pecorino cheese with Signora Fornaio, and . . . you must have seen him.”
“We have no more shepherd,” Bo Peep said, “and no sheep.”
“Yes, you do,” insisted Faye.
“No sheep,” said Bo Peep.
“Sheep?” Lucy said. “I’d like sheep. Little ones.” She would have liked to see some fluffy little sheep.
“Of course, he has sheep,” Noah said. “He’s a shepherd.”
“Sheep?” said Bo Peep. “Where sheep?”
“Where sheep?” asked the feathered man.
“Well, he keeps them . . . he brings them over, or . . . he . . .” But Miss Brett trailed off, as it dawned on her that she had never actually seen his sheep. The others must have. “You’ve seen his sheep, haven’t you, children?”
“Of course we have,” Faye said with assurance.
“I wish I had,” said Lucy. “But I never did.”
“Yes, you have, many times. You just don’t remember.” But the moment Faye said it, she knew that couldn’t be right. If anyone had remembered, it would have been Lucy. Faye thought hard. Had she ever actually seen any sheep?
“I don’t think we ever did.” Jasper looked at his sister. No, they hadn’t seen any at all. A shepherd with no sheep?
“No sheep, no shepherd,” said the feathered man.
“But he has been around,” Noah said. “He’s hard to miss.”
“He’s very little and very old,” said Lucy.
“No sheep and no shepherd,” the feathered man said again. “The shepherd of Solemano dead. Dead last spring.”
“Well, that’s just not true,” said Faye, but she was getting nervous. No sheep? “The sheep must have been on the other side of the passageway and we just didn’t see them.”
“Dead.” Bo Peep spoke louder now.
“It’s his brother,” said Lucy. “Remember? Signora Fornaio said the shepherd’s brother died in the spring.”
“No brother,” said Bo Peep. “No family. Alone.”
“He was not alone!” said Faye. “He’s a sweet old man and his brother died and . . .” But Faye took a breath and realized that she simply did not know the truth,
Miss Brett felt a bead of sweat on her brow. No, this is impossible. Surely the sweet old shepherd poses no threat, she thought. There must be some misunderstanding. The mysterious men in black were simply not understanding what she and the children were trying to say.
“Listen,” she said calmly “you must have seen him. He has been around. Signora Fornaio has been taking care of him, giving him food. She even had him help her in the bakery He made buns for us and—” With a sickening jolt, Miss Brett suddenly gasped. She looked at Faye, who seemed to have had the same thought.
“The bundle,” Faye said, softly going pale. “The ravens and the rabbits.”
“What rabbits?” asked Lucy. “What ravens?”
Faye looked at Miss Brett. She nodded. They had to tell. So she explained about the ravens and the rabbits. “They must have died from eating the treats,” she said. “They were poisoned.”
“It can’t be.” Noah was shaking his head again. “If I hadn’t dropped the bundle . . .” He trailed off.
“Not Mr. Corvino.” Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. “Please untell me.”
Faye turned to Lucy and grabbed her arms, looking the little girl straight in the eyes. “Lucy, think hard. Whenever we saw the shepherd, was one of the men in black ever there?”
Lucy gulped down her tears and thought. “Well, he was near, sometimes, but never right there. And we asked him to come to the house and he almost came. But he didn’t want to come once I told him that Mr. Frilly Apron was making sandwiches.”
“Was he purposely avoiding them?” asked Faye, looking at Jasper.
“It can’t be,” he said. Then he looked to Miss Brett. “Can it?”
Miss Brett didn’t want to think so. Signora Fornaio had a habit of feeding strays. Could her warmth and generosity have blinded her to danger? No, it simply could not be so. “Perhaps the shepherd was an unknown brother of the old shepherd—and perhaps the bunnies did die of the cold,” said Miss Brett. “We cannot immediately jump to conclusions. Remember, we believed these men guilty of murder only minutes ago.”
Noah stood up and let out a deep breath. “Okay, what should we do?”
“Let’s go down to the bakery. If the shepherd is there, we’ll ask him some questions. Signora Fornaio will have an answer for these fellows. She’ll be able to explain. We need to speak with them,” she said, feeling slightly more confident. “If the shepherd has been around for the last few months, he may have seen something, too.”
Miss Brett led the way out of the manor house, and the others followed. They all walked quickly down the hill toward the bakery Bo Peep called out in their language, presumably Maltese, to other mysterious men in black who were in the village. Three ran down toward the wall and through the gate to the farmers in the field: a man in black jodhpurs and a black fuzzy jumper; one in a black coverall and a large black hat with earflaps; and a man dressed in black farmer dungarees. The man Miss Brett and the children thought was the little old shepherd held a bundle in his arms, but a blanket on top fell off as he walked swiftly toward them. He was carrying a little lamb.
“Look, there’s one of the shepherd’s little sheep,” said Lucy, pointing. As they grew closer, they could see it was a very thin young sheep, shivering in the cold. It couldn’t have been bigger than a spring lamb grown through the fall. Her wool, matted and filthy, was an unusual shade of apricot.
There was a sense of relief. Miss Brett sighed heavily. That sweet old man could not have been other than what he seemed,
“No,” said Bo Peep.
“This sheep we find,” the feathered man said, picking up the blanket that had been covering the sheep and tucking it gently around the little creature. “We bring him back from spring.”
“What do you mean?” This made no sense to Miss Brett.
“Sheep of dead shepherd,” Bo Peep said. “All color the same.”
“She we find last night,” said the feathered man. “Caught in branches, tree fall down.”
“Sheep many dead, over Forca di Penne,” Bo Peep said sadly. “Many dead from cold, many dead from knife.”
“Shepherd, too, dead,” the feathered man said. “Dead from fall. But maybe other kind of dead.”
“Where is the shepherd? The other shepherd?” Noah said. But no one had an answer.
“There’s his staff,” said Jasper, walking over to the stone wall. He leaned over and picked up the large, carved stick that the shepherd always carried. It was heavy and more finely carved than he had thought before, although he had never had a good look at it, or lifted it, since the shepherd always had it in his hand and Jasper had never been that close to the man. Jasper took it along with him, forgetting to put it down. He only realized he still held it as they approached the bakery. A pair of ravens whined their guttural cry as the group approached. They were very agitated and circled round and round. An empty plate sat in the snow outside the door.
“Signora Fornaio!” Miss Brett called at the door. There was no answer. She knocked, and the door creaked open. Miss Brett looked at Bo Peep with fright. “Signora?” There were no sounds from within. The lamp in the shop front was not lit. “Ciao, Signora Fornaio. Are you here?” Still, there was no answer. She touched the door and noticed that the glass in the window had a thin crack running from bottom to top.
Miss Brett pushed the door open. She gasped, stifling the scream that rose in her throat. She threw out her arms to keep the children from entering, but she was too late, and Lucy slipped under her arm, followed by Wallace.
“Signora Fornaio!” cried Lucy. “Per favore! Please be all right!”
The bakery was in shambles. The baskets were overturned, the biscuits crushed on the ground, the breads torn apart, with flour covering everything. The ravens landed in the doorway and began hopping around the bakery, crying and chattering.
“Signora Fornaio!” Faye called desperately. The others called as well.
Jasper again realized he still held the staff. Climbing over the counter, he started to hand it to Bo Peep. But the moment he handed it over, he grabbed it back. On the top of the wooden gnarl, he noticed a particular engraving. Could it be?
It looked like a very ornate “KR.”
Bo Peep noticed it at the same time.
Jasper ran his hand over it. No, it could not be. It mustn’t be.
“But it couldn’t be him,” said Jasper. “This guy was short and frail, and Komar Romak is tall and skinny, and the shepherd was old, and he—what was his name again? I can never remember.”
“It was a funny name. Italian,” said Wallace. “Mezzobassi?”
“Mezzobaffi,” said Lucy, who was looking through the baskets, hoping to find Signora Fornaio sleeping beneath them.
“Mezzobaffi?!” said the feathered man, Bo Peep, and the other men in black with a collective gasp.
“Yes,” Wallace said. “That was the name.”
Immediately, the men in black began conversing in their language. Without understanding a word, the children and Miss Brett knew something was very wrong.
“What is it, for goodness sake?!” cried Miss Brett, who was beyond frazzled. She, like Lucy, had begun to search through the wreckage. “What does it mean?”
“It is the name. What means the name,” Bo Peep said solemnly.
“What does it mean?” asked Noah, swallowing hard.
“Name means,” the feathered man began, looking at
his brethren. “Means ‘half-moustache.’”
Had this been said, one friend to another, it might have been funny. The absurdity of this statement, under other circumstances, might have brought giggles and laughter. But the children had learned that things are not always what they seem. Just as a man in bunny ears can make your blood run cold, things can always be seen in a second way.
“But that is not his name,” insisted Miss Brett. “It is Mezzobassi.”
“But she called him Signor Mezzobaffi the very first day,” said Lucy. “I remember.”
Miss Brett had gone quite pale. “It’s him, isn’t it?” she asked. “That’s what you think. Somehow, Signor Mezzobaffi or Mezzobassi is mixed up with him.”
“Not him,” said Bo Peep.
“Komar Romak,” said Faye, uttering more a gasp than words.
“It . . . it cannot be.” Miss Brett went as pale as the snow. It was not possible. It was simply not possible that the sweet, frail old shepherd was this monster.
“Yes,” the feathered man said. “It means.”
Noah just stood, shaking his head. Jasper reached for Lucy, who fell into his arms. Faye’s mouth went dry. It was as if her thoughts were flipping back and forth between two realities—one where the shepherd was the shepherd and the other where he was not. Miss Brett tried to deny it, but more and more clues and facts were chipping away at the security wall she had built in her heart, around the children she loved so much.
“But . . . but . . . how is it possible?” Miss Brett tried to ask the men. “The Komar Romak we know looks nothing like this man. Nothing at all.”
“But the other,” said Bo Peep.
“What other?” Jasper asked.
“Komar Romak,” said Bo Peep.
“There’s another?”
“No,” said the feathered man.
“No, what?” demanded Faye.
“There is only the one, and the other,” Bo Peep said.
“So there are two?” Noah scratched his head.
“Two what?” asked Miss Brett.
“Komar Romak,” said the feathered man and Bo Peep.
“There are two Komar Romaks?” said Jasper in disbelief.
“That makes one whole moustache, if you put them together,” Noah said, to everyone’s pointed looks.
The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 30
