"Your house is destroyed," said Francesca, choking and gasping and
wiping her nose on her sleeve.
"Destroyed!" Tilia and Sophia stared at each other. A shock of fear
swept through Sophia. Already terrified for Daoud, she was now swept by
dread for Rachel and pity for Tilia.
_Any more of this, and I will lose my wits._
"And they hanged Cassio."
"Oh, my God!" Tilia screamed.
Another jolt of terror. Sophia thought of that day in Constantinople
when the Franks had run riot, burning whole districts and murdering
townspeople. Was this another such day?
"And they--and they killed Hector and Claudio and Apollonio and the
other menservants."
"Who did this?" Tilia was on her feet, standing over Francesca,
shouting. "Who? Who?"
Was the whole world turning against them, Sophia wondered. Was it the
podesta's men? The Monaldeschi?
Francesca put her hands over her face and wept softly for a moment, then
continued. "The Tartars and that French cardinal who always came with
them. They came with armed men, dozens of them. They were after Rachel."
_Rachel!_
The horror of it all was like a spear driven through Sophia's breast.
She sat down on her bed as the room went black around her.
"Oh, no," she heard herself saying. "Oh, not Rachel!" Fear stopped her
heart. She slumped on the bed, her hand pressed to her chest.
"When Cassio tried to stop them, they went mad," said Francesca. "The
men-at-arms killed every man in the house, and they raped all the women.
Some of us over and over again. And they tore the house apart and stole
everything they could carry. What they could not take, they smashed. And
all the while they kept laughing, Madama. They kept laughing."
Sophia felt bile burning in her throat. If she had to hear any more
horrors, she was going to vomit.
Tilia sat looking stunned, shaking her head from side to side.
"What happened to Rachel?" Sophia managed to choke out.
"She tried to run away. She got out of the house. The white-haired
Tartar, the one who beds with her, chased her. He must have caught her,
because I heard the cardinal shouting that they had found the one they
came for and they must get on the road or they would be fighting the
Sienese."
_Rachel wanted to come here with me this morning_, Sophia thought. _If
only I had brought her here, we could have saved her._ She sobbed aloud.
Her stomach hurt.
"May God rot all of them with leprosy," said Tilia. She hugged Francesca
hard, and then stood up.
"I must go to my house."
Going back to Tilia's would not help Rachel, Sophia thought. They had
probably lost her forever. Despair dragged her down. _Rachel, Rachel!_
What were they doing to her?
"First David is arrested. Now this," she said, tears running steadily
down her cheeks.
_I had trusted Daoud to foresee danger and guide us through it_, Sophia
thought. _And now Daoud--_
She still did not know whether Daoud was safe, or even still alive.
Would the contessa be able to stop whatever was being done to Daoud?
That had been quite enough to be terrified about.
Francesca's tear-reddened eyes widened. "David has been arrested?"
Something in her tone told Sophia there had been something between
Francesca and David.
_Of course_, she told herself. _Did you think the man slept alone until
you gave yourself to him?_
She and Francesca shared some of the same grief. Sophia wanted to
console her.
"Cardinal Ugolini has persuaded the Contessa di Monaldeschi to intercede
for David," Sophia told her, "and the cardinal has gone to the Palazzo
del Podesta, hoping to bring David back here again."
"It may be hours before David is released," said Tilia, raising a
cautioning hand. "_If_ the podesta does agree. Or he may persuade the
contessa that he was right to arrest David."
These were the very thoughts that had been tormenting Sophia. She needed
to do something.
"If you want to go to your house, Tilia, I will go with you." It
occurred to her immediately after she spoke that the streets might be
dangerous for both of them. But she could not stand the agony of sitting
here, waiting for the possibility of still worse news.
"Sophia, you and the cardinal must not be linked to Tilia Caballo's
bordello," said Tilia.
"I will keep myself hidden," said Sophia.
Sophia made Francesca comfortable in her own bed, then went down with
Tilia to the great hall of Ugolini's mansion and sent for Riccardo.
Hand in hand, Sophia holding a lighted candle, the two women made their
way through the tunnel that led to the potterymaker's shop.
Riccardo met them with another hired cart, like the one that had taken
them from Tilia's to the cardinal's this morning. This was a covered
cart full of big urns of olive oil. The air, much cooler than before the
storm, felt refreshing on Sophia's face. Getting into the cart, Sophia
looked up and saw big black clouds rolling across the sky, their rounded
edges outlined by the red light of the setting sun.
The cart, pulled by an old draft horse, bumped over cobblestones and
splashed through puddles. Tilia and Sophia sat on a bench behind
Riccardo, under the cart's canvas cover, so they could not be seen from
the street. All around them Sophia heard church bells ringing for the
Angelus. She could close her eyes for a moment and imagine she was
hearing the bells of the three hundred churches of Constantinople. She
longed to be in the Polis again, among civilized people.
_That is why I am here, is it not? To keep the barbarians here, and away
from there._
She saw torchlight ahead. This was Tilia's street, farther up a hill
that slowed down the elderly horse.
From this distance the house looked undamaged, but what was that hanging
above the door?
"Merciful God!" Sophia whispered.
She saw the body of a man suspended from a rope tied to the balcony
above the doorway.
"Oh, God," said Tilia. "Oh, poor, poor Cassio." She dabbed at her eyes
with the sleeve of her gown.
Now, by the torchlight, Sophia could see several men, dressed in the
yellow and blue of the commune, gathered in front of the house. The
podesta's watchmen.
The street was full of common folk, who had to back up to give the cart
room to move forward. As it approached the front door, one of the
podesta's men raised a hand to stop it.
"I will be right back," Tilia said, squeezing Sophia's arm. She
clambered out of the cart with Riccardo's help. Riccardo tied the cart
to a hitching post on the side of the street.
Tying her scarf across her face, Sophia watched from inside the cart.
The man who had stopped the horse barred Tilia again as she started
toward her house. He was a slender, middle-aged man with a prominent
arch to his nose and heavy-lidded eyes. Riccardo moved toward him, but
Tilia put her hand on the servant's arm. Tilia would not want the
cardinal's man brawling with an officer of the watch.
"I am Tilia Caballo, and this is my house," she said in a commanding
voice. "How long have you been here?"
What a brave woman Tilia was, Sophia thought. Could she herself face an
officer of the watch and speak to him sternly like that?
"Since the hour of None, Madama. The podesta was here, but he had to
leave."
"And what are you doing? Just standing about? Have you left that poor
man's body to hang there since mid-afternoon, where women and children
could see it? Take him down at once. Are you not Christians? How can you
treat the dead with such disrespect?"
In the midst of her own horror, Sophia took comfort from Tilia's display
of strength, and wondered how the stout little woman felt inside.
Sophia had hated her at times, and still thought Tilia had done a
horrible wrong to Rachel. But what she felt for her now was mostly
admiration.
After all, all of them were equally guilty of what had happened to
Rachel. The blame should not fall on Tilia alone.
The beak-nosed officer called orders to others nearby. But his
expression as he turned back to Tilia was surly.
"There might be some question about whether _he_ was a Christian,
Madama. This is, after all, a house of ill repute."
"Ill _repute_!" Tilia blustered. "This is--this was--the handsomest
house of pleasure in Orvieto. And our patrons occupied the very highest
levels in the Church. You would be wise to have a care how you speak of
my house."
Sophia felt herself smiling. Amazing, when there was so much to weep
over.
"Would I?" The officer thrust his nose at Tilia. "Perhaps you can tell
me why such a splendid bordello with such fine customers needed a
torture chamber in the cellar? Or why you had to keep piccioni on the
roof?"
Sophia's body went cold. If they found out those were carrier pigeons
and where they went, the trouble here might be deep indeed.
"So that is what you have been doing!" Tilia stormed. "Looting my home!
And how much did you steal after the Tartars left? And no doubt
harassing my ladies, as if they had not been through enough already. And
leaving my Cassio to swing from a rope. My God, there has been murder,
kidnapping, rape, and theft done here, and you prattle of piccioni. What
have you done about catching the _bestioni_ who did this?"
Now the officer did look intimidated. "Madama, we are not certain who
did these things--"
"Not certain!" Tilia shook her fist at him. "Everyone in Orvieto knows
who did this. It was the French cardinal, Paulus de Verceuil, and the
Tartar ambassadors to the pope. Why are you here, standing about like
fools, when you could be pursuing them and bringing them to justice?"
The French, thought Sophia. If Simon had been here, would he have
allowed this to happen? She felt a twinge of guilt, remembering that she
had betrayed Daoud by not telling him where Simon was going.
"What you tell us is but hearsay, Madama."
"Hearsay! Every lady in that house is a witness."
"In any case, those you accuse are beyond our reach."
"Because you _let_ them get beyond your reach," Tilia retorted. "Oh, you
feckless man! Let me by."
And then Sophia was alone in the cart and frightened, because she knew
she was surrounded by the podesta's men and by townspeople who might
well be hostile. For reassurance she smoothed the scarf over her nose
and mouth and patted the small dagger that hung at her belt, concealed
under her outer tunic.
She heard a creaking noise above her and looked out to see the podesta's
men hauling Cassio's body up to the balcony. Tilia, she thought, was
taking charge. Left to themselves, the watchmen would probably have just
cut the rope and let the poor man's corpse fall to the ground.
Sophia thought of Rachel, helpless, carried off by the Tartar, and
Daoud, equally helpless, in the Palazzo del Podesta. She had no idea
what was happening to either of them, and horrors filled her mind. Her
hands twisted together, her fingers crushing one another, and she
started to cry again.
Tilia was crying, too, when she came back and Riccardo helped her climb
into the carriage. She could not speak for a time, and Sophia sat with
her arm around Tilia's quaking shoulders. It was for this, thought
Sophia, she had come. The only way she could help Tilia was to be with
her and to comfort her. And in doing so she comforted herself.
After a while Tilia gave a great sigh. "I held Cassio in my arms for a
time. I washed his poor face, which I could barely recognize. What hurts
most is that all those people, those men and those women, were loyal to
me, and I was not there when they suffered this awful thing." She wiped
her eyes with the sleeve of her green silk dress and looked sadly at
Sophia.
Feeling Tilia's pain for her people, Sophia liked her all the more.
"The Tartars' men probably would have killed you if you had been there."
"To be sure. I would have provoked them to it as Cassio did. I would not
have let them take Rachel without a fight." She gripped the cross
resting on her bosom, and Sophia remembered Daoud saying it held a
poisoned blade. "Well, my poor men will have good burials. I have been
very generous to the little church of San Severo in the valley south of
here, and now the pastor can repay my kindness by burying the seven who
died here. They may not have been good Christians, or Christians at all,
but at least in a churchyard they will lie in peace. The women who are
hurt badly will go to the Hospital of Santa Clara. And I must hire
guards to protect the house. My ladies do not want to stay there. I do
not blame them, but there is no other roof to shelter them just now,
and with guards they will be safe enough. Anyway, those murderers are
gone. I will come back and stay with them when I have done everything
there is to do."
Sophia smiled at Tilia in admiration. She was hurt, but fought the pain
by getting on with what needed to be done.
_If only there were more I could do. For Rachel. For Daoud._
Tilia kept shaking her head. "They took everything of value. Thank
Fortune, most of my money is on deposit with the Lombards. But the
chests I kept in my room are gone, and there were bags of gold coins in
them. One chest was Rachel's."
Sophia's heart sank further at that news. Now Rachel had not even gold
to make up for all that had been done to her.
"The dirty ladroni," Tilia went on. "That Tartar and the other one, and
the cardinal--all of them had such merry times in my house. How could
they do this to me?"
"The Tartars are simply doing as Tartars do," said Sophia. "They take
what they want, and they kill anyone who tries to stop them. As for the
cardinal, he is a Frank, and if you had seen what the Franks did to my
city, you would not be surprised at this." She felt helpless. How could
what she was saying possibly comfort Tilia?
Tilia struck the heel of her hand against her forehead. "How stupid I
was! When John the Tartar said he wanted to take Rachel to Perugia with
him, I should have known he would not accept my refusal. I should have
been prepared for this."
Sophia, remembering how Rachel had begged to leave Tilia's house with
her that morning, spoke sharply before she could stop herself.
"As it was, you kept Rachel safe for him until he was ready to take
her."