Stefano was right. James soon developed a killing headache and stomach cramps. This was followed by drowsiness and a burning sensation under his skin. All he could do was lie in his bed and groan, drifting in and out of sleep and muttering crazily about Victor, Amy and Ugo.

For two days Vendetta nursed him, bringing him food and water and applying the grey paste, and gradually the bites healed. She watched for signs of fever, but mercifully none came. It seemed he had escaped the malaria. Whether it was down to luck or to Vendetta’s medicine, he would never know, but he would always be grateful to her.

At last Vendetta was able to leave him untied and he felt strong enough to go out of the cave. It was a relief to be in the sun and fresh air and away from the attentions of the strange, silent girl and the claustrophobic shell of the cavern.

His own tattered clothes had been removed and burnt and Stefano had brought him some old clothes of his own, a loose-fitting white shirt and baggy trousers. They felt cool and comfortable.

The tiredness had passed. The mountain air was clean and at this height there were few insects to bother him. He explored the area, which was covered in mastic shrubs and sharp rocks. He could feel his battered body getting back into shape, but he was anxious and on edge. He had to get away from here.

He returned to the cave to look for Stefano and found that new people had arrived. There were some women carrying bundles of food, and more men with guns, wearing flat caps and dark heavy suits.

James was reminded of Ugo’s guests at the carnival. There was a familiar air of toughness and danger about these craggy-faced men. James thought how easily, under different circumstances, they would be his enemies rather than his friends.

‘They are preparing for war,’ Stefano explained when James found him. ‘They are bandits.’

‘I must go,’ said James. ‘I have to help Amy. First thing in the morning I need to leave for Victor’s house in Capo d’Orso. Can you take me there?’

‘Sì,’ said Stefano. ‘But it will not be easy. We have no vehicles. I could find a donkey, perhaps, but the journey will take three or four days.’

As night fell, two lambs were slaughtered and set on spits to roast over the fire, and soon a rowdy celebration was in progress. There was music and singing and wrestling and a group of bandits played an incomprehensible gambling game where they yelled numbers at each other and held up their fingers.

Much wine was drunk and James was reminded of Ugo’s comment on the wrestling at his carnival.

‘Prima bevono, poi stringono.’

First they drink, then they fight.