"So"--Daoud kept the smile fixed on his face--"you have arrested and
tortured me for a night and a day. You very nearly did to me something
so horrible, even now it hurts me to think about it. And you would have
done it, too, if the contessa's summons had not delayed you. Now,
because you have stopped doing these things to me, you expect me to be
overflowing with gratitude and glad to help you make peace with the
Ghibellini."
D'Ucello smiled back. "For my sparing you from torture, from mutilation,
from death, you should be grateful, yes."
_If he were another kind of man, he would have destroyed me with Greek
Fire and let this city be ruined while he fought the Sienese. In spite
of what he did to me, this is a wise man, and he deserves to live and to
rule here._
But Daoud could not resist another thrust. "What I should do, if, as you
think, I have influence with the Sienese, is have them do to you what
you have done to me. And not spare you at the end." He felt himself
getting angry as he thought of all he had been through, even though he
knew anger was foolish. "I know where you keep your flask of Greek
Fire."
D'Ucello's black eyes held Daoud's. "Yes. You could do that. But I think
I have come to know something about you during these hours you have
suffered at my hands."
"Yes?"
"I do not know what you are, but I know that you are much more than you
seem to be. And you are not the sort who takes revenge on a man for
doing his duty."
Daoud did not care to haggle anymore. "Allow any messenger of mine
freedom to come and go through the city gates."
"Agreed."
The podesta was right, he thought. He would not seek revenge after
d'Ucello surrendered to the Sienese any more than he would kill a
prisoner of war. Men like Qutuz did that sort of thing, to satisfy their
vanity. Men like Baibars did not. He thanked God for making him more
like Baibars.
And he thanked God for bringing him alive and whole out of the valley of
death.
* * * * *
Her first sight of Daoud was a cruel blow to Sophia's heart. His blond
hair, dark with dirt and sweat, spread in lank locks on the pillow. His
bloodshot eyes looked at her out of blackened lids. His lips were
cracked. His face looked hollow, as if he had grown thinner just in the
day d'Ucello had held him.
She ran to him across the tiled floor of Ugolini's reception hall.
He was alive, but how badly hurt was he? She prayed that when she lifted
the blanket that covered him she would see that his body was sound.
He raised his hands to her as she bent over the litter. She saw that the
fingernails were blackened and bloody, and her own fists clenched as she
felt what they must have done to his hands. She slid her arms around his
shoulders and pressed her face against his. Perhaps the men-at-arms and
servants should not see the cardinal's niece embracing the trader from
Trebizond, but at that moment nothing mattered to her but to hold his
living body in her arms.
She heard him gasp. She was hurting him. What a fool she was!
"Forgive my clumsiness, David. I am so sorry."
He gently squeezed her hand as she drew away from him. "Your arms feel
like an angel's wings."
Ugolini called his steward, Agostino, and rattled off a list of
necessaries for treating Daoud's wounds--water, a pot and a brazier,
clean cloths, medicine jars from the cardinal's cabinet.
Sophia walked beside the litter as Ugolini's men carried Daoud to his
room on the third floor. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. Her
feelings alternated between agony, as she imagined what he had gone
through, and singing elation that he was back with her. With joy she
felt movement and life in the hard muscle under her fingertips.
"Tilia and I did what we could for you," she said when the men had
deposited him on his bed.
"I know," said Daoud. "Ugolini told me about your visit to the contessa.
Had she not sent for d'Ucello when she did--as you persuaded her to
do--I would be dead now."
She sat on the edge of his bed and put her hands over her face and wept
for joy. It had all meant something, her rushing to Tilia before dawn,
her going with Ugolini to the contessa, her falling to her knees before
the old woman.
As the men-at-arms left, Ugolini came in with Agostino and two servants
bearing a brazier and a tripod, pots of water, cloths, and jars of
ointments and powders from Ugolini's shelves. Two other servants brought
a table into Daoud's room, and Ugolini had the medications arranged on
it.
"He also let me go because the Ghibellini from Siena are about to
besiege the city," said Daoud. "He wants my help in surrendering to
them."
"A pity the Sienese could not have gotten here in time to catch the
Tartars and de Verceuil," said Sophia when the servants had left.
Ugolini looked up from the powders he was mixing for poultices and
frowned. "Catch them? Why?"
Sophia stared at Ugolini. Then the news had somehow missed him. She felt
sorry for him. Even though Tilia was very much alive, this was going to
be a terrible shock.
Daoud said, "In the dungeon I heard something had happened at Tilia's
house."