Chapter 39

The news got worse as Dafne found out. Not only was she charged with teaching Capricorn's men, the lesson had been scheduled for that day. Capricorn was obviously wasting no time in making further use of her ability. Her literacy seemed to cause her no end of trouble. She loathed being forced into the presence of the men, especially the purpose of sophisticating their death threats. But it was Capricorn's orders so she had no choice.

The red rooster crows tomorrow.

It sounded innocent enough, except for the fact that the bird was a metaphor for fire. Capricorn could have chosen to be more forthright in his message. Obey or die. That might have been easier to teach them, less words, no less threatening. She supposed the note had to be vague to prevent it being used as evidence if handed over to the authorities. Not that Capricorn feared intervention from the police. They feared him instead. There was nowhere his victims could turn. If they didn't comply with Capricorn's demands, it was now his expectation that they receive a written warning.

It disheartened Dafne to be involved, against her will, in teaching something that would only be used to enforce fear and obedience. She was already picturing the notes being discovered, nailed to doors like an eviction notice. She felt guilty enough already. Resa kept drifting into her head, tugging painfully at her heart. She was still deliberating what to pen in her note to her. The only positive about teaching the men was that she would have access to paper. The very thing she needed.

It was afternoon when Basta accompanied her to the lesson. She had expected it to take place in the church but instead he led her to another building. It was one which had past much time in disuse but was appropriate for the task ahead.

"A schoolhouse," she said.

Basta shrugged,

"I hear they're the place to learn things," he said.

Her class had already assembled inside by the sound of it. She could hear raucous laughter and it put her on edge.

"How many of you?" she asked Basta.

"Just a few of us."

"A few?"

"Well me of course," Basta said, ticking off the rest on his fingers, "Cockerell. Flatnose. Nero. Sergio. Carlo. Enzo. So this many."

He held up the number of fingers to her.

At least there was only seven. But seven were enough to give her a headache. They had obviously been specifically chosen. Perhaps because of their rank, if Basta, Cockerell and Flatnose were anything to go by.

She took a deep breath and reached for the door. But Basta intervened.

"No, let me."

This confused her for a moment but then she realised that he wanted to go in first. She supposed out of protectiveness.

"Don't worry," he said, confirming her suspicions, "I'll take care of you. If they give you any trouble, I'll bring out my knife."

He patted his holster.

This didn't exactly comfort her.

But Basta didn't wait for a reply. He opened the door and strode confidently inside.

Dafne followed reluctantly and found herself confronted with five villainous faces starring back at her. They were seated at the child-sized desks, looking themselves like a pack of bullies who had been shut away as punishment and forgotten. Like Dafne, none of them looked happy to be there. The sixth, Cockerell, was planted face down on his desk, using his arms as a pillow. The position gave the impression he was asleep until he raised his head briefly to glare. There were dark bags under his eyes, testament of a sleepless night spent futilely tracking Sara.

Basta regarded his cohorts with his arms crossed like a stern headmaster. But his mere presence wasn't enough to dissuade the men from launching into complaint.

"About goddamn time," one man drawled, he had his boots propped disrespectfully on his desk, "You can't breathe properly in here on account of the dust."

And cigarettes, Dafne noticed as some of them were smoking.

"Yeah, who's brilliant idea was it to come here," the man next to him agreed, revealing several gold teeth.

Basta eyed them scornfully,

"It was Capricorn's," he growled.

The two complainers glanced at each other uneasily. The mention of their master's name immediately quelled further protest.

"Remind us why we're here exactly," another man said, grinding his cigarette stub into his desk. He had a bushy mess of a beard.

"I told you why we're here," Basta said impatiently. He produced a piece of paper from his jacket and waved it around, "Capricorn wants us to learn how to write this message so we can put it in people's houses when they don't obey him."

The paper had the message already written on it. Capricorn had given it to Basta for Dafne to use as a reference. He now pressed it into her hands,

"Dafne is going to teach us."

The men looked at Dafne with a certain amount of accusation, as if she were to blame for this disagreeable assignment.

I don't want to be here either, she thought defensively.

"Why?" Flatnose said with weary petulance. Like Cockerell, he appeared exhausted, "Why can't we keep doing what we're doing? How hard is it to strangle a rooster and hang it up? A lot easier than this stupid writing business."

"Because Capricorn wants it," Basta said in a tone that implied the subject was not open for discussion, "So all of you had better listen up and treat Dafne with respect. If you give her a hard time, you're going to have to answer to me."

Instead of looking worried, the men exchanged sly glances.

"Oh we wouldn't dream of giving your little girlfriend a hard time," the bearded man said mockingly.

Girlfriend? Dafne wondered if Basta had gotten to bragging while he had been out today. She wouldn't have been surprised, though it annoyed her. It wasn't anyone else's business that they were together. Still, people had been making assumptions about the nature of their relationship for a while now, Giulio for example.

Gold teeth chuckled,

"Yeah, she probably has a hard enough time at home."

There was a round of laughter from the seated men.

Basta flushed angrily.

"Shut up Carlo," he spat, eyeing the man threateningly before doing the same with the others, "I'll let you know she's perfectly happy," he turned to Dafne to demand, "Tell them how happy you are."

Dafne looked at him reprovingly, not liking his tone and refusing to back him up because of it.

He cringed at her silence and his expression became more pleading.

Dafne sighed and worked her mouth into a bright smile,

"Oh yes," she said in the voice of someone marvelling at their good fortune, "I'm wonderfully happy."

Basta surveyed the audience smugly,

"See."

"Aw and we're soo happy for you," the only man yet to speak sniggered. He had a prominent mole on his chin. "Give her a kiss Basta."

The other men let out some cheers of encouragement.

Dafne looked at Basta uneasily for a second in case he might do it. She didn't want him kissing her in front of them.

"Oh look at her face," Carlo cooed, "She don't look too happy about doing that."

Amidst the laughter, Basta gave her a wounded look. But when she inclined her head towards the men and shook her head, he seemed to understand.

"That's because she's a proper lady," he said, drawing his arm around her protectively, "She doesn't want to be kissed with you lechers watching. Isn't that right?"

Dafne nodded in relief.

"Huh proper lady," Cockerell lifted his head with a scoff of derision, "That pussycat of yours is no lady."

"She's more a lady than that wench you're so fond of," Basta retorted.

The men were fickle in their mockery, turning on Cockerell.

"Poor Cockie, in love with a wench."

"Very expensive habit that."

"Shut up," Cockerell snapped, "I don't love her. She's just a wench."

"You hog her though," the man with the mole said. It sounded more a complaint than a jeer.

"He's doing you a favour Enzo," said the man with his boots on the table, "She charges a fortune."

Enzo smiled and taped on his nose meaningfully,

"Yes but you know she's worth every penny."

There was a murmur of consensus from the men with the exception of Basta and Cockerell. The latter was moving his glare around the room as if trying to decide which of them to make an example of for teasing him. He obviously didn't like being reminded that Fiammetta was not exclusively his. None of the men looked particularly troubled to earn Cockerell's wrath.

"That's true," Boots on table said, "That thing she does with her..."

"Cut that talk out," Basta interrupted, though he seemed to be enjoying Cockerell's discomfort, "There's a lady present."

"Yes shut up and let her teach us so we can get the hell out of here," Cockerell said, looking at Dafne scornfully though he was using her to change the subject.

"Any objections?" Basta asked the rest of them in a threatening voice. The men were silent. Basta smiled encouragingly at Dafne, "Go ahead little mouse."

He left her to take his seat, taking the one next to Cockerell. Whether it was to keep an eye on the man or just to annoy him, it clearly did the later.

"Why do you have sit next to me," he hissed.

"I can sit wherever I like," Basta said pleasantly, "Do you have a problem with that?"

He took out his knife and set it gently on the desk, spending time arranging it to an angle he liked.

All the while Cockerell glowered at him but the knife's appearance seemed to have stilled his tongue.

The others had been watching the two eagerly but now their faces grew disappointed. Dafne suspected they had been hoping for a more violent outcome. Losing interest, they now turned their attention back to the front. She felt uncomfortable standing up there alone with their bored gazes on her.

She looked around, noting the blackboard and box of chalk. There was also a teacher's desk with a stack of blank paper and a handful of pens.

At least all the materials had been provided.

She grabbed several sheets and the pens, turning back to them with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, which wasn't much.

"Well let's get this over with shall we?"

She took her quarry over the closest unwilling pupil.

"Pass these around for me please," she said.

But Enzo stayed where he was, sneering at her.

Basta cleared his throat loudly.

The noise made Enzo jump, glancing over at Basta who nodded at his knife.

Grudgingly Enzo snatched up the paper and pens and divvied them out.

As he went about this, Dafne returned to the board and wrote Capricorn's message on it in big capital letters. She figured capital letters might be less complicated to copy.

"Okay," she said briskly as Enzo sulked back to his desk, "Can any of you read this?"

Capricorn had informed her that none of his men could read or write but surely the ones from this world must have had at least some schooling.

Perhaps not, Dafne thought, judging by their lack of response.

"Yes," Basta said when no one else spoke up, "It says 'the red rooster crows tomorrow'."

He leaned back in his chair looking pleased with himself.

"How did you know that?" Flatnose said, narrowing his eyes at the board as if Basta could see something he couldn't, "You can't read."

"Idiot," Cockerell said, rolling his eyes, "He already knew what the message was. What else would the little madam write?"

"Don't call me an idiot," Flatnose growled, "You're the idiot. Who got us lost coming back last night?"

Cockerell bristled,

"It's not my fault," he stabbed an accusatory finger at Basta, "He's the only who usually drives."

"Don't put your stupidity on me," Basta said.

"Well if you had just come with us instead of running off to play house with maidy over there," Cockerell said spitefully, "Maybe Capricorn was right about what he said about you."

Cockerell probably wished he had kept this opinion to himself. He grimaced as Basta leapt to his feet in fury.

"Take that back," he snarled, "Take it back right now."

In the background the other men started cheering him on.

"Do it Basta."

"Paint some pretty pictures on Cockie's face."

Their comments horrified Dafne. If they looked forward to one of their own harming another, what hope of mercy did their victims have.

"Okay I take it back," Cockerell said, leaning away from Basta so as to nearly fall off his chair, "Calm down would you."

"Don't listen to him Basta," Carlo called to him, "Stay mad and slash him."

Dafne watched Basta's hand moving towards to his knife in alarm.

"Stop it!" she shouted. Basta froze. Everyone looked at her surprise. It's time to lay down some authority, she thought. She was the teacher and that meant she was somewhat in charge. The last thing she wanted was have to deal with an assault. "All of you stop it. Basta sit down."

Basta pouted like a reprimanded child.

"But..." he whined, pointing at Cockerell, "He..."

"He took it back," Dafne said in her new voice of authority, "So sit down."

Still pouting, Basta reluctantly settled back down.

The other men sniggered at his obedience and he glared at them in warning. Cockerell didn't laugh though, he just looked relieved.

"Look," Dafne said, drawing their attention back to her, "I don't want to be here anymore than you. So stop your nonsense and let me teach you how to write this awful thing," she pointed at the blackboard, "Then I can leave and you can kill each other for all I care" she didn't wait for agreement, they were starring in amazement at her newfound forcefulness, "Do any of you know how to hold a pen? No? I know Basta does because I showed him. I'm going to come around to each of you and show you how. Starting with you, Enzo right?"

"She's a bossy little thing," she heard Carlo murmur to Basta as she was instructing Enzo.

"Don't I know it," Basta muttered back.

"Basta," Dafne addressed him, causing him to flinch guiltily, "Start copying please."

Basta sighed and picked up his pen.

Dafne left Cockerell until last. By the time she reached him, he had slipped back into his original resting position.

Before she could stop him, Basta leaned over and slapped the back of his head.

"Wake up."

Cockerell jerked into alertness with a cry.

"Damn it," he said through clenched teeth, rubbing his head, "Leave me alone. Do you know how tired I am?"

"About as much as I am," Flatnose said. His face was resting sluggishly in the cup of his hand as he made his attempt with the other.

"Oh are you two sleepy," Basta said mockingly, "You poor babies."

"You'd be tired too if you had come with us," Cockerell said resentfully.

"Well I didn't," Basta said before frowning unhappily, "I still got chewed out by Capricorn about not finding her so stop complaining at me."

Capricorn's scornful words were obviously still on his mind by the looks of it.

"You know what would make Capricorn happy," Dafne said with forced cheerfulness, before Cockerell could voice a retort, "Learning how to write this note. So how about it?"

She didn't really care a fig for making Capricorn happy but she wanted to diffuse the tension between them before it could escalate again.

Fortunately both bowed to this reasoning. But Basta didn't return to his paper. He kept his eyes trained on Cockerell the entire time Dafne was with him. He didn't trust the man being in such close quarters with her. But Cockerell didn't try anything, most likely because he was aware of Basta's vigilant gaze.

"I need help," Basta said as she was finishing with Cockerell. Dafne glanced at his page and saw that what he had written had been angrily blackened out.

"Did you make a mistake?" she asked.

"It wasn't good enough," Basta replied with disappointment, squeezing his pen as if he could strangle the life out of it, "It's so hard to control this stupid thing. You make it look so easy."

He said the last part almost resentfully.

"It takes a lot of practice," Dafne reassured him.

"I don't have time for that," Basta said frustratedly, "Capricorn..."

"Capricorn wasn't good at reading straight away," Dafne lied, "He can't expect the same of you writing."

"How much can you expect from a worm," Basta mumbled miserably, mostly to himself.

"You're not a worm," Dafne told him firmly, "For one thing worms don't have hands."

Basta only sighed.

Dafne placed her hand over the one still grasping the pen and caressed his knuckles.

"Come on, I know you can do this."

She felt the tension in his hand relax beneath her fingertips and smiled.

Basta slowly began to smile back.

"Aw how sweet," jeered Boots on table. He had since taken his feet off his desk and Dafne now knew his name was Sergio, "Touching hands."

His observation startled her and quickly withdrew her hand with embarrassment.

"Mind your own business!" Basta snapped at him, turning around in his chair to face the man who was sitting in the row behind him.

"It's kind of hard not to when it's right in front of me," Sergio quipped back.

"How about I cut out your eyes," Basta suggested menacingly.

Dafne sighed wearily.

"No one is doing any cutting," she said, "You are all supposed to be writing. I suggest you get back to that Sergio. Unless you're finished and you have nothing better to do than stare at us."

"Finished?" Sergio said with a scoff of derision, flicking his paper onto the floor, "I gave up ages ago."

This carved the way for a flood of dissension.

"Yeah this is stupid," Carlo said, "Who is going to be frightened of a couple of squiggly lines anyway?"

"I bet most the farmers can't even read themselves," the man with the beard said. Dafne had learned his name was Nero.

"I told you were should just stick to roosters," Flatnose said.

There were strong murmurs of agreement.

"You want to tell Capricorn that?" Basta said, reminding them who they had to take their complaints to.

The rebellion quickly fizzled out, the dissenters lapsing into sullen silence. Not one of them would dare question Capricorn's orders to his face. Dafne was wondering if she should press them to continue with their attempts. They didn't have a choice. They had to learn it. At least that was Dafne's impression of the situation.

That was until one of the men had a light bulb moment.

"Hey I have an idea," Nero said, sounded rather excited with what he had come up.

The others regarded him unenthusiastically.

"What?" Carlo said. He had crunched his paper into a ball and was trying to decide who to throw it at.

Nero pointed at Dafne,

"We could get Basta's girlfriend to write the notes for us," he said, "Then pass them off like we wrote them. Capricorn would never know."

The men's expressions turned to ones of approval. Even Basta looked grudgingly impressed by Nero's plan.

Dafne wasn't.

"I'm not doing that," she said, crossing her arms to indicate her inflexibility on the matter, "I am not writing your notes for you."

This was met with a round of annoyed groans.

"Why not?" said Basta, "It would be no problem for you."

"Of course it wouldn't," Dafne said, "But I know where those notes are going to end up and I want none of that on my conscience. It's bad enough being forced to teach you."

More groans.

"Basta, she's your girlfriend," Sergio said, "Make her change her mind."

Basta snorted,

"Getting her to change her mind is completely impossible. Believe me."

The men didn't believe him.

"Geez don't try or anything," Enzo said angrily.

"Yeah Basta, don't you want to get out of here," Carlo raised his hand, ready to throw his paper ball at him. But he reconsidered at the last moment. Basta's knife was still on the table.

Basta shrugged,

"Why would I want to leave?" he said, "Dafne's here," he smiled at her, "The only downside is that you lot are here too."

"Well we would leave if you're stupid girlfriend would agree to write the notes," Sergio hissed.

"Don't you call her stupid," Basta snarled, jumping aggressively to his feet, "How is she stupid? She can read and write."

"That's the bloody point," Nero drawled, "She can do what we can't."

"Well you're just going to have to learn," Basta growled, "Because she doesn't want to do it."

"Then we're going to be here for ages," Enzo moaned, "Why did Capricorn think we were up to this."

"There might be another way," Dafne spoke up, a thought popping into her head.

The men turned to her, condemnation on their faces for her earlier refusal.

"You could just photocopy the message. There's a photocopier at the library the next village over."

Dafne could soon tell who amongst them had been born in this world. They were the ones nodding in understanding. Basta, Cockerell and Flatnose just looked confused.

"What's a photocopier?" Flatnose said.

Carlo threw his paper ball at Flatnose. It bounced off the side of his face.

"It makes copies dummy."

Flatnose rose to his full intimidating height, retrieved the paper ball and approached Carlo menacingly. Carlo withered in his seat, looking like a small child with the other man leaning over him.

"Dummy, am I?" Flatnose growled.

Carlo laughed nervously,

"Did I say dum..." his words were muffled as Flatnose crammed the paper ball into his mouth.

"You have a big mouth Carlo," Flatnose said as he was force-feeding him.

The men watched this scene with amusement. Dafne only found it distressing.

"Stop it," she called out to Flatnose, "What did I say about waiting until I left to kill each other."

To her surprised relief, Flatnose released Carlo. The man spat out the paper ball, gasping for air.

"Let that be a lesson to you," Flatnose said, "Next time I'll find something more unpleasant to shove in there."

He returned to his seat. Carlo glared daggers into his back as he went.

"How does paper taste?" Enzo asked him, "Good?"

He cracked up laughing. So did the others.

Carlo flushed furiously.

"How about you try some?" he threatened, gesturing to the wad he had just spat out.

Enzo wrinkled his nose,

"Not when it's been in your mouth."

"That's enough," Basta said, "We're wasting time. We need to get back to Dafne's idea."

"Well it's a good idea," Nero said, "We could print as many copies as we wanted."

"Better than spending an eternity trying to write just one," Sergio added.

"So it's efficient then," Basta said. Like Flatnose, he didn't seem to grasp the mechanics of photocopying. But he liked what he was hearing and nodded approvingly, "Well we need that. We need efficiency. So it's settled then. We'll just, what's the word, photocopy the note."

Carlo jumped to his feet with boyish exuberance.

"Yes! We can leave."

Dafne controlled herself from also letting out a whoop of joy.

"Finally," Cockerell growled, "I'm going to bed."

The men didn't dawdle around the schoolhouse now they had a solution. Soon it was just Basta and Dafne remaining.

"That was some clever thinking," Basta said admiringly. She was still standing next to him so it was no effort for him to reach out and put his arms around her waist. "Now we're alone."

He drew her closer against him. Seated, he only came up to her stomach. He looked up at her expectantly.

"What do you want to do now?" she said.

Basta smirked slyly. He was about to answer when the sound of knock drew their attention.

Basta gave a sigh of frustration when he saw who it was, burying his face on Dafne.

"Hey," Silvio said, "Is the lesson finished?"

To be continued...

Hee Black Jackets are funny. Horrible, horrible people but funny.

Silvio popping up at the wrong time here.