or killing you." Antonia winced. "But that is no longer true? It's not necessary to kill me?" "No. It'd be pointless. You won't say anything. You weren't lying; I know what you've lived through. You don't want to go back; you were going to kill yourself rather than land in Marseilles. I believe you would have." 'q7hen what's to become of me?" "I found you in hiding, I'll send you back in hiding. I'll give you money, and in the morning get you papers and a flight out of Rome to someplace very far away. I'll write a couple of letters; you'll give them to the people I tell you to. You'll be fine." Bray stopped for a moment. He could not help himself; he touched her swollen cheek and brushed aside a strand of hair. "You may even find another valley in a mountain, Antonia. As beautiful as the one you left, but with a difference. You won't be a prisonerlthere. No one from this life will ever bother you again." "Including you, Brandon Scofield?" "Yes.,, "Then I think you had better kill me." "What?" "I will not leavel You cannot force me to, you cannot send me away because it is convenient... or worse, because you pity mel" Antonia's dark Corsican eyes glistened again. "What right have you? Where were you when the terrible things were done? To me, not to you. Don't make such decisions for mel Kill me first!" "I don't want to kill you-I don't have to. You wanted to be free, Antonia. Take it. Don't be a damn fool." "You're the fooll I can help you in ways no one else could!" "How? The courier's whore?" "If need be, yes! Why not?" "For Christ's sake, why?" The girl was rigid; her answer was spoken quietly. "Because of things you said--' "I know," interrupted Scofield. "I told you to get angry. , "There's something else. You said that all around the world, people who believe in causes-many not wisely, many with anger and defiance are being manipulated by others, encouraged to violence and murder. Well, I've seen something of causes. Not all are unwise, and not all believers are animals. There are those of us who want to change this unfair world, and it is our right to try! And no one has the right to turn us into whores and killers. You call these manipulators the Matarese. I say they are richer, more powerful, but no better than the Brigades, who kill children and make liars and murderers out of people like me! I will help you. I will not be sent awayl" Bray studied her face. "You're all alike," he said. "You can't stop making speeches." Antonia smiled; it was a wry smile, engaging yet shy. "Most of the time, they're all we have." The 9mile disappeared, replaced by a sadness Scofield was not sure he understood. "There's another thing." "What's that?" "You. I've watched you. You are a man with so much sorrow. It's as clear on your face as the marks on my body. But I can remember when I was happy. Can you?" "The question's not relevant." "It is to me." A.Why?" "I could say you saved my life and that would be enough, but that life wasn't worth much. You've given me something else: a reason to leave the hills. I never thought anyone could ever do that for me. You offered me freedom just now but you're too late. I already have it, you gave it to me.
I am breathing again. So you're important to me. I would like you to remember when you were happy-" "Is this the couriees. woman speaking?" "She is not a whore. She never was." I'm sorry." "Don't be. It is permitted. And if that is the gift you want, take it. I would like to think there are others." Bray suddenly ached. The ingenuousness of her offer moved him, pained him.
She was hurt and he had hurt her again and he knew why. He was afraid; he preferred whores; he did not want to go to bed with anyone he cared about-it was better not to remember a face or recall a voice. It was far better to remain deep within the earth; he had been there so long. And now this woman wanted to pull him out and he was afraid.
"You learn the things I teach you, that'll be gift enough." "Then you'll let me stay?" "You just said there wasn't