The Sicilian - Mario Puzo [132]
The fifth man on horseback was Don Buccilla of Partinico, who had come to see Hector Adonis in behalf of his nephew on the long-ago, fateful day when Turi Guiliano became an outlaw. Now, five years later, he was heavier by forty pounds. He still wore his opera peasant clothes despite the fact that he had become enormously wealthy in those five years. His ferocity was benign, but he could not abide dishonesty and executed thieves with the same righteousness as those eighteenth-century English High Justices proclaiming the death penalty on child pickpockets.
The sixth man was Guido Quintana, who, though nominally of Montelepre, had made his reputation by taking over the bloody battleground of the town of Corleone. He had been forced to do this because Montelepre was directly under the protection of Guiliano. But in Corleone, Guido Quintana had found what his murderous heart yearned for. He had settled four family feuds by the simple expedient of wiping out opponents to his decisions. He had murdered Silvio Ferra and other union organizers. He was perhaps the only Mafia chief who was hated more than he was respected.
These were the six men who, by their reputations and the respect and enormous amount of fear they could generate, barred the lands of Prince Ollorto to the poor peasants of Sicily.
Two jeeps full of armed men sped down the Montelepre-Palermo road and turned off on the path that led to the estate wall. All but two of the men were masked with wool coverings that had slits cut open over the eyes. The two unmasked men were Turi Guiliano and Aspanu Pisciotta. The masked men included Corporal Canio Silvestro, Passatempo and Terranova. Andolini, also masked, covered the road from Palermo. As the jeeps pulled up about fifty feet from the Mafia horsemen, additional men pushed through the crowd of peasants. They too were masked. They had been picnicking in the grove of olive trees. When the two jeeps appeared they had opened food baskets and taken out their weapons and their masks. They spread out into a long half circle and covered the horsemen with their rifles. All told, there were about fifty of them. Turi Guiliano jumped out of his jeep and checked to see that everyone was in place. He watched the six riders going back and forth. He knew they had seen him, and he knew the crowd, too, had recognized him. The smoky Sicilian afternoon sun tinged the green landscape with red. Guiliano wondered how these thousands of tough peasants could be so intimidated that they let six men keep the bread out of the mouths of their children.
Aspanu Pisciotta was waiting like an impatient viper beside him. Only Aspanu had refused to wear a mask; all the others had feared a vendetta from the families of the six Mafia chiefs and from the Friends of the Friends. Now Guiliano and Pisciotta would bear the brunt of the vendetta.
They both wore the gold buckles engraved with the lion and the eagle. Guiliano had only a heavy pistol in a holster hanging from his belt. He also wore the emerald ring he had taken from the Duchess years ago. Pisciotta carried a machine pistol cradled in his arms. His face was pale from his lung disease and excitement; he was impatient with Guiliano for taking so long. But Guiliano was carefully watching the scene to make sure his orders had been carried out. His men had formed the half circle to leave an escape route for the Mafia chiefs should they decide to ride away. If they ran they would lose “respect” and a great deal of their influence; the peasants would no longer fear them. But he saw Don Siano turn his mottled gray horse and the others follow