"I do not want to tell you what Rachel said. I respect her confidence.
And I do not like passing on suspicions like this. Come and talk with
her yourself."
"Right now? Here in this palace?" Simon shivered with an inner cold.
"Yes. De Verceuil and the Tartars have been invited to a supper at the
Palazzo Papale. Rachel is alone in her room. I made sure of that a
little while ago."
Feeling like a man going obediently to his own beheading, Simon said,
"Let us go and talk to her, then."
In the corridor, Simon saw Sordello and Thierry.
"Your bath is ready, Monseigneur," said Thierry.
"I will bathe later," said Simon, trying not to let the whirlwind of his
emotions show in his face.
"There is no way to keep the water warm, Your Signory," said Sordello.
"_Then let it freeze!_" Simon shouted. He turned away quickly and
followed Friar Mathieu.
* * * * *
Simon at first did not see the small figure huddled in a far corner of
the high, gauze-curtained bed. Rachel's room, on the floor below
Simon's, was much bigger than his. The outer wall, which curved slightly
because it was part of the old temple, was lined with blue-veined white
marble. A large window admitted dim light through oiled parchment and
curtains.
"Rachel," said Friar Mathieu softly in Italian. "Here is the Count de
Gobignon, whom I told you of. He is in charge of the men who guard
your--protector. He is Madonna Sophia's friend. She has asked him to try
to help you."
Simon felt a twinge of guilt. Could he be Sophia's friend if he was
trying to get Rachel to reveal Sophia's secrets? But Sophia had
disappeared without a word to him. If she had secrets, he had to know
them, even if he had to deceive this child to get at them.
But at the same time he desperately wanted to learn nothing about Sophia
that would hurt him.
Rachel used a red ribbon to mark her place in the book she was reading,
climbed down from her bed, and curtsied to Simon. Her skin was as white
as the marble on the wall. She wore a pale blue gown. Her small breasts
pushed it out in front ever so slightly. Simon could see why Sophia had
kept referring to her as a child. He could not imagine how anyone, even
a Tartar, could want to couple with so delicate-looking a creature.
_Even with books to read and a spacious chamber, she must feel like a
prisoner._
He forgot his own anguish momentarily in pity for her plight. He wanted
to take the wide-eyed girl gently in his arms and hold her.
Simon and Friar Mathieu sat on small gold-painted chairs, and Rachel sat
on the edge of her bed. Simon racked his brain for a way to start the
conversation. It must seem to be about Rachel, but it must tell him
about Sophia. He was not even sure what he was trying to find out.
Even though he had not spoken and had tried to look friendly and not
threatening, he could imagine how much his presence must frighten her. A
French count. To her that must almost be like being visited by a king.
And she probably feared Christians anyway. If she decided she must
protect Sophia from him, he would get nothing from her.
Simon was grateful when Friar Mathieu cleared his throat and spoke.
"Count Simon is anxious about your welfare, my dear," said the old
Franciscan. "He was quite surprised to learn that Cardinal Ugolini and
Madonna Sophia had not followed the pope here to Viterbo. He was
wondering whether Madonna Sophia had left some word with you about where
she was going."
Rachel shook her head. "I have not seen her since John took me from
Madama Tilia's house." Her black hair was wound in braids around her
head, exposing her small ears, made to look smaller still by the large
gold hoops she wore in them. Similarly, a gold necklace with a jeweled
pendant emphasized the slenderness of her neck. Her arms and hands
seemed weighed down with bracelets and rings. The Tartar must be
showering her with gifts.
"And Madonna Sophia gave no hint of her plans when she visited you at
Madama Tilia's?"
Friar Mathieu asked it as if it were the most natural question in the
world.
_My God, what would Sophia be doing at Tilia Caballo's? At a brothel!_
Simon felt his stomach clench. He did not want to hear Rachel's answer.
"No, Father. The last thing she told me was that everyone would be
leaving Orvieto soon. And when we did, I would not have to stay with
Madama Tilia anymore. I begged her to take me back with her to Cardinal
Ugolini's, but she said she could not. Later that day John came for me.
I never spoke with Madonna Sophia again." She looked uneasily at Simon.
Sophia had said she knew about the girl only through the gossip of
servants and townspeople. Could this girl be lying about having met
Sophia? But she would have no reason to do that. So it must have been
Sophia who lied about never having met Rachel. He felt as if a dagger
had struck him in the back.
And she had certainly never said anything about going to Tilia
Caballo's. How could he learn the true connection between Sophia and
Rachel without making Rachel suspicious?
"That is just it, Rachel," he said. "Things have been happening so
rapidly, and I was away from the pope's court and the Tartar ambassadors
for months. Sophia and I have not had time to talk to each other or to
send messages. But when I last saw her, she asked me to look after you.
She cares very much for you."
Rachel smiled faintly. Her lips were a pale pink. Her eyebrows were
black and straight over her dark brown eyes, giving her an earnest look.
"Oh, yes, Your Signory. I know she cares for me."
"Are you also from Sicily, Rachel?" Simon asked. "Did you know Sophia's
family in Sicily?"
"No, Your Signory. I am from Florence."
Florence. Florence was controlled by the Ghibellini.
"Does anyone in your family know you are here with this Tartar? Is there
anyone you would like me to get a message to?"
Rachel's eyes widened and filled with tears. "They are all dead, Your
Signory. And if any of them were living, I would rather be dead myself
than have them know what has happened to me."
"Then Sophia is the only friend you have in the world?" Simon waited a
moment, then tried a blind guess. "Perhaps Sophia has gone back to the
place where you first met her."
"No, no," said Rachel. Suddenly, she looked terrified. She shrank back
from Simon.
_She is dreadfully frightened_, Simon thought.
Friar Mathieu was right. Sophia was hiding something. Anguish stabbed
Simon again.
"What is it, Rachel?" said Friar Mathieu. He shook his head at Simon.
"If you want to help me, if you love her, just leave me alone. She was
kind to me as no one else has ever been. She was my friend. Stop trying
to find out about her."
What was this girl hiding? What was Sophia hiding? Simon felt as if he
were surrounded by enemies, all of them plunging their daggers into him.
"Does a friend send a young girl like you to a brothel?" said Friar
Mathieu softly.
This brought no reply from Rachel. She put her hands to her face and
sobbed.
Simon could bear no more. He stood up abruptly. He was torturing this
girl. And in a way, she was torturing him.
He said, "Rachel, we will leave now. I am sorry I frightened you. In
truth, I have no wish to hurt you. But, I--I am upset too. Listen to me.
If you ever decide you want to get away from here, tell me. I will not
let John or Cardinal de Verceuil or anyone else stop you if you want to
be free."
Rachel took her hands away from her face. "Where can I go? Tell me that,
Your Signory. Where can I go?" Her eyes, rimmed with red from crying,
were pools of darkness in her pale face. The sight of her tears made
Simon's own eyes burn.
Friar Mathieu stood up, leaning heavily on his stick. He took Simon's
arm, whispered a good-bye to Rachel, and drew Simon out of the room.
Silently they went back up to the top-floor loggia. Simon seethed and
churned, his mind full of confusion and pain.
They sat together on a bench in the deepening twilight. The sun was down
and the sky over the distant hills was copper-colored.
"How clumsy I was," Simon said. "She will tell us nothing now."
"You learned quite a bit," said Friar Mathieu, "if you think about what
she told you."
"I know this much," said Simon. "I have been a fool. Sophia has been
lying to me."
"Everyone in love is a fool, Simon. The more in love, the more they want
to believe whatever the beloved tells them. Only a man or woman in love
with God can be a fool without risk."
From the distant walls of Viterbo, the guards called the hours to one
another. Their long-drawn cries echoed against the stone building
fronts.
"What did you mean, think about what she told me?"
Friar Mathieu sighed. "Rachel said that Sophia told her after they left
Orvieto she would not _have_ to stay with Tilia Caballo anymore. Rachel
was not at Caballo's of her own free will. And you may have noticed that
when I suggested that Sophia sent her there, she did not deny it."
Simon felt another rush of anger at Friar Mathieu for trying to make him
believe evil of Sophia. "Are you saying that Sophia forced that girl
into a brothel? Father, Sophia is too much of an innocent to be a party
to anything like that."
But he remembered that moment of deepest intimacy they had shared last
autumn outside Perugia, the moment he had delighted in reliving
thousands of times. She had surprised him with the suddenness of her
passion, with the swift, sure way she had guided him into taking her and
had taken pleasure from him. Of course, he had thought, she would know
what to do. She had been married. But surely a chaste widow who had
known only one man in her life would have shown some hesitation, some
timidity, some inner struggle?
Simon felt rage building up within him. He hated these doubts. He wanted
to lash out at someone.
Friar Mathieu's voice came to him again, mild but inexorable. "Rachel
said she asked Sophia to take her _back_ to Ugolini's. Rachel must have
lived at Ugolini's when she first came to Orvieto. If you say that
Sophia could not have been the one who put Rachel in Caballo's house, I
accept it. But Ugolini could have. Or David of Trebizond."
"You will drive me mad. Stop going step by step like a schoolman. Of
what are you accusing Sophia?"
Only his reverence for Friar Mathieu kept him from shaking the old
priest.
Friar Mathieu patted Simon's knee. "I am going step by step because I
myself am trying to think this out. And I want to be sure, for your
sake. Rachel knew something, or had learned something. So they put her
in Caballo's brothel for safekeeping."
"They?"
"Ugolini. David of Trebizond. And Sophia, at the very least, must have
known the reason, or she would not agree to let Rachel go to the
brothel. If Sophia knew so much, then perhaps--I say perhaps--she knew
more about Ugolini and David and their dealings than she admitted to
you. I keep thinking of that night at the Palazzo Monaldeschi when she
drew you to the atrium, conveniently for David of Trebizond, who was
goading the Tartars into publicly embarrassing themselves. Was she as
uninvolved then as she led you to believe?"
Each of Friar Mathieu's sentences was another dagger blow, plunging deep
into Simon, sending agony through him, the sharp point searching out his
heart.
Friar Mathieu was proceeding in the same painstaking way he had probed
Alain's body until he discovered what killed him. Alain, whose murderer
had never been found, who had died outside Ugolini's mansion.
_Alain! Oh, my God! Could she have known how he was killed?_
_What had really been happening at Ugolini's mansion?_
Simon bent double, digging his fingers into his skull. His head might
burst apart if he did not hold it tightly. Could all the love he thought
he had found in her be a lie? Could she be an _enemy_?
"You are destroying my life," he muttered, his hands over his face.
He felt the light touch of the old man's hand on his shoulder. "When a
leg wound festers, the surgeon has to cut the leg off to save the man's
life."
_And the old soldiers tell me the man always dies anyway_, Simon thought
bitterly.
"I am doing this not just for you, Simon," Friar Mathieu went on. "There
was a secret war being waged in Orvieto to prevent us from allying
ourselves with the Tartars. The person behind it was probably King
Manfred of Sicily, who wants to keep Charles d'Anjou out of Italy.
Ugolini was Manfred's agent. And Sophia may have been Ugolini's weapon
against you."
_No! Impossible! I love her. I could not love her if she were on the
side of evil._
Simon struck his knee with his fist. "I must find out the truth. I must
go after her."
"After Sophia?"
"Yes. If she is in Manfred's kingdom, I will find her and get her out."
"Whatever Sophia has done, she has already done, Simon. You cannot undo
it, or simply pretend that she has done nothing at all."
Simon lurched to his feet. Staggering in his agony, as if those knives
were still striking him from all sides, he reached the railing of the
loggia and gripped it. The sky had deepened to violet, and a single
silvery star glowed in the west. He remembered the magic his mother had
taught him of wishing on a star. He could not wish this awful pain away.
"I do not know what she has done. And I refuse to believe ill of her
until I have spoken to her."
"But you cannot go into Manfred's kingdom and look for her. You are
certain to be caught and imprisoned. You could very well be killed."
Simon turned. Friar Mathieu was a dim figure huddled in the deep shadows
of the loggia, his beard a light patch in the darkness.
"You think Manfred is behind all this," Simon said.
"Yes. Look you, when Urban died and Clement was elected--it was the
letter you carried from King Louis that broke the cardinals'
stalemate--Ugolini and Sophia saw they could do no more at the papal
court, and they left. Maybe they were afraid they would be discovered."
Manfred. Simon knew little about King Manfred. Up to now he had hardly
any reason to dislike him, and so had no reason to join Count Charles in
making war on him.
Now all was changed. It plainly had to be to Manfred that Sophia had
fled. And if Sophia had betrayed him, she must be serving Manfred.
And Mathieu was right. He could not go alone into Manfred's kingdom and
bring Sophia out. If she had lied and betrayed him, she not only would
refuse to come with him, she doubtless would betray him again, and he
would end up a prisoner.
But there was another way he could go after Sophia.
With an army at his back.
Yes, he would go to Gobignon and send out his heralds. He would summon
his vassals to a council of war at the château. Then, after the harvest
was in, he would ride forth under the purple and gold banner of the
three crowns with all the power of Gobignon behind him.
He would find Sophia if he had to tear Manfred's kingdom apart to do it.
Find her and get the truth. As his wife or as prisoner, she would be
his!