He heard a bolt slide back, and he entered the cabinet. Cardinal Ugolini
returned to the high-backed chair at his worktable, which was strewn
with leather-bound books and parchment scrolls. In the middle of the
table lay a large, circular brass instrument Daoud recognized as an
astrolabe. On shelves behind the cardinal, besides many more books and
papers, were a stuffed falcon, a stuffed owl, and a human skull with a
strange diagram painted on the cranium. Windows of translucent white
glass in two walls let in an abundance of light. A good place to work,
thought Daoud.
"I hope I do not disturb you, Your Eminence," said Daoud.
"Not at all, David," said the cardinal. "It is very necessary that we
talk."
Cardinal Adelberto Ugolini was a short, stout man with long gray
whiskers that swept out like wings from his full cheeks. His receding
chin was as bare as the bald top of his head, partly covered now by a
red skullcap. He wore a plain black robe, like a priest's, but from a
chain around his neck hung a gold cross set with five matching blue
jewels. Daoud wondered if the cross concealed a poisoned stiletto like
Tilia's. Besides books and scrolls, Daoud noticed, there were rows of
porcelain jars on the shelves against the wall. Each had a Latin word
painted on it. Ugolini might well dabble in poison.
"The man they seized in the cathedral is to be publicly torn to pieces,"
Ugolini said. "They have been torturing him in the Palazzo del Podesta
for three days and two nights, but they have learned nothing from him,
except that he is a member of the Apostolic Brethren, a follower of the
heretic Joachim of Floris."
_If I am to go before the pope, I must learn about the disputes among
Christians. It would not do to offend the Christian leaders by
accidentally uttering heresy._
"What does this Joachim teach?"
Ugolini waved his hands dismissively. "Joachim died long ago, but his
rubbish and madness still stir up the simple folk. The Church is too
wealthy. The clergy are corrupt. The Age of the Holy Spirit is coming,
in which there will be peace, justice, and freedom and all property will
be owned in common."
The doctrines of the Apostolic Brethren sounded to Daoud like the
teachings of the Hashishiyya, as told to him by Imam Fayum al-Burz.
Ugolini shook himself like a wet dog. "It is dangerous for you to
involve yourself with such people as the Brethren."
_It is dangerous for me to be here at all_, Daoud thought, irritated at
Ugolini's timidity.
"This heretic does not know me, so there is nothing he can tell them
that will point to us. You need not fear."
"I feel no fear," Ugolini said grandly. "How did you get that man to
draw a dagger in the cathedral?" Ugolini asked. "And the crowd, how did
you stir them up?"
Daoud saw the tiny quiverings of Ugolini's pupils, the tightness of his
lips, the clenching of his jaws, the signs of a man in a permanent state
of terror.
Daoud shrugged and smiled. "Celino found the madman preaching against
the Tartars at a crossroads and had men in his pay bring him to Orvieto.
We did not tell him what to do. He did what he was moved to do. As for
the crowd, all that was needed was for Celino to drop a word here and a
coin there. Many people believe the Tartars are demons from hell.
Perhaps they are. Anyway, I think we have turned the people of Orvieto
against the Tartars."
"You are like a child playing with flint and tinder in a barn full of
straw," said Ugolini, blinking his eyes rapidly.
_He must be prodded into action_, Daoud thought. _Tilia said the idea of
my appearing before the pope would terrify him. We must settle that
today._
Daoud walked to one of the four mullioned windows. The casements swung
inward for air. Looking down through the iron bars on the outside of the
window, Daoud regarded the street where the Tartars had passed. The
pottery maker across the road had washed away the bloodstains and was
sitting in front of his shop displaying his brightly colored wares.
What would move this man Ugolini--money, threats, the promise of
personal power?
He turned back and made himself smile.
"You do not want me here, Your Eminence."
Ugolini looked at him for a long moment, and finally said, "For over a
dozen years Baibars has been a far-off figure who sends me small rewards
in return for scraps of harmless information. Now, suddenly, his agent
is in my home, demanding that I, the cardinal camerlengo of the Sacred
College, risk death by torture to deceive the pope and betray the
Church. In a week or two in the cathedral piazza, they will do horrible
things to that poor mad heretic. But his sufferings will not be the
tenth part of what they will do to me--and to you--if we are found out."
Daoud bowed his head. "The sooner I complete my work, the sooner I am
gone."
While he let that sink in, he decided that with his next words he would
pit his boldness against Ugolini's timidity.
"So, you must present me to the pope as soon as possible."
Ugolini's eyes grew wide and his mouth trembled. His stare, with his
sharp nose, tiny chin, and trembling whiskers, gave him the look of a
jerboa, one of those desert rats that Daoud had hunted with hawks in
Palestine.
"Tilia told me you had some such mad notion," said the cardinal. "If you
speak to the pope and his court, every important man in Orvieto will
see you. If you make the slightest slip that could reveal what you
really are, they will be on you like hounds on a fox." He laughed
nervously. "No, no, no, no. I might as well take you to de Verceuil and
say, 'Here is the enemy you are looking for. Behold, a Muslim, even a
Mameluke! And, by the way, it was _I_ who brought him into Orvieto.'"
Ugolini covered his eyes with his hand. He did look as if he had been
losing sleep, Daoud thought, remembering what Tilia had told him.
Daoud felt his teeth grinding together in frustration. It would be
easier to fight a band of Tartars than to try to put courage into this
one little man. And he needed more from the cardinal than compliance.
_I must make him want, not just to help me, but to lead the opposition
to the Tartars. Otherwise this will be like trying to move the arms and
legs of a dead man._
"The cardinals speak Latin to one another, do they not?" Daoud asked. "I
will say my piece in Greek and you will translate it into Latin for me.
So you will have a chance to cover any errors I make."
"Why must you go before the pope?" Ugolini demanded. "It is foolish
bravado. Remain in seclusion and tell me what you want done and I will
have it done for you."
The thought of keeping himself in hiding while trying to act through
others made Daoud's flesh crawl. But there was a bit of hope here. At
least Ugolini was offering to do _something_.
"This is a thing only I can do," Daoud said. "Only I have seen the
Tartars, met them in battle. Only I have seen what they do to a
conquered city." The sight and smell of those heaps of rotting corpses
arose in his mind, and he shut his eyes momentarily. "What I can say is
too important a weapon to be left unwielded. I know the Tartars better
than any man in Orvieto, except for that priest in the brown robe who
came with them. And he is on the other side."
"How will you tell what you know without admitting that you are a Muslim
warrior?"
"Many Christian traders now visit the lands occupied by the Tartars.
David of Trebizond has been one of them." He spread his arms. "As you
see, I now dress like a wealthy merchant."
Celino had gone out with a bag of florins from Ugolini's first sale of
jewels, and he had come back with a chest full of new clothes for Daoud.
Today Daoud wore a silk cape as red as a cardinal's robe. It was light
in weight and came down to his knees, more for display than for
covering. Under the cloak he wore a tunic of deep purple embroidered
with gold thread.
Ugolini shook his head. "Clothing will not deceive the pope and those
around him. You are asking too much of me."
Daoud wished he could give this up. Ugolini was nothing but a sodden
lump of fear. But he had no choice but to keep trying. The cardinal was
his gateway to the papal court.
"Think of the reward," Daoud urged. "Part of the wealth I have brought
with me is already yours. If the pope sends the Tartars away without an
agreement, my sultan will give to you with both hands."