"I do not doubt it," said Daoud.
"Not a very good Christian," Ugolini went on, sighing and looking off
into space. "God grant that I make a good confession before I breathe my
last. But I am also of the south of Italy, and in my youth I lived side
by side with Muslims. I had Muslim teachers, wise men. From them I
learned about philosophy, medicine, astrology, alchemy. I learned how
much there is to know that I may never know."
Daoud felt his eager heart beat more rapidly. Ugolini was speaking just
as he wanted.
"God help me, I yearn so for more worldly knowledge," Ugolini went on.
"That was why I studied for the priesthood, so I could go to the
University of Napoli. But what one can learn at a Christian university
is not enough. I want to know what you Saracens know. And so I long for
peace between Christendom and Islam."
Daoud felt excitement surge through his arms and legs. He was
exhilarated, as when in battle he sensed his opponent was weakening.
He pressed his point. "You will never possess the knowledge you long for
if the Tartars destroy it. Think what was lost when they leveled
Baghdad. Think what will be lost if they destroy Cairo, Thebes,
Alexandria."
"Oh, God!" Ugolini cried, waving hands bent like claws. "There is so
much I could learn in Egypt. If only this stupid enmity between Muslim
and Christian did not hold me back. I am tortured like Tantalus."
"As cardinal camerlengo, the pope's chamberlain, you could bring before
the pope a traveler from far away whose testimony might influence his
decisions about the Tartars. Because of you, all that would be lost
might be saved."
Daoud held his breath, waiting for Ugolini's reply.
Ugolini smiled resignedly. "To work for what I believe in, to help my
friends. And to be rewarded with riches. How can I refuse?" His
expression changed again as he looked earnestly at Daoud. "I do not know
as much as your great Islamic astronomers, but I have plotted the
courses of some stars, and I know how they rule our destinies. And my
recent readings have told me that I will take a risk that will yield me
rewards beyond my hopes."
"Then you will present me to the pope as a witness?"
Ugolini first shook his head, but then sighed and nodded. "I can propose
a meeting. And may the stars watch over us," he added as his right hand
traced the Christian sign of the cross on his forehead, shoulders, and
breast.
_The stars, your Messiah, and the One God I worship_, thought Daoud. He
allowed himself momentarily to feel the thrill of triumph. Ugolini had
begun to move as he wanted him to. But now he must prepare himself for a
much greater trial, his meeting with the pope.
* * * * *
A little while later, walking through a ground-floor doorway into the
sunlit atrium of Ugolini's mansion, Daoud saw Sophia and Rachel standing
by the fish pond, under orange and lemon trees. The polished dark-green
leaves reflected the mid-morning sun upward and cast shade downward on
the stone paths and the pool. Reflected sunlight rippled over Sophia's
peach-colored gown. A narrow gold bracelet on her wrist flashed as she
raised her hand to make a point. The answering smile that lit Rachel's
face foretold that she would be a beautiful woman in a few years. She
was dressed better than she had been when they first met her, Daoud
noticed. That ankle-length blue silk gown must belong to Sophia.
"The cardinal has just had an immense turbot delivered all the way from
Livorno, Messer David," said Rachel, her black eyes bright with wonder.
"Alive, in a barrel of water. Look, you can see it down there at the
bottom."
Daoud looked down into the clear water, saw a tapering dark shape moving
gently just above the yellow pebbles lining the bottom of the pool.
Smaller brown carp darted this way and that above it.
"The cardinal's gold makes great things possible," he said. "Will you
leave us for a while, Rachel?"
Sophia handed a small leather-bound book to Rachel. "You may read these
poems of Ovid if you like."
Rachel clasped the book to her narrow chest. "I do not read Latin,
Signora, but I will look at the pictures."
"Have a care," said Sophia with a light laugh. "Some of them may shock
you."
"Then I will try to enjoy being shocked." Rachel bowed and hurried away.
Daoud listened to the banter between the woman and the girl with mixed
feelings. He liked both of them, and he enjoyed hearing them joke with
each other. He imagined women must talk that way among themselves back
in El Kahira, but if they did, men never had a chance to hear.
He also felt deeply uneasy at the growing closeness between Rachel and
Sophia. The two of them shared a room on the top floor of Ugolini's
mansion, next to Daoud's and Lorenzo's. His stomach tightened as he
thought of the long talks they might have. What if Rachel learned that
Sophia was actually a Byzantine woman, when she was supposed to be the
cardinal's niece from Sicily? And what if Rachel then let that slip to a
servant? Byzantines, Greek Catholics, were hated almost as much as
Muslims here in the lands of the Latin Church. One small, seemingly
harmless revelation like that could destroy them utterly.
_I must get them separated._
Turning to Sophia, Daoud was struck once again that so much beauty
should openly display itself outside a harem. A narrow cloth-of-gold
ribbon wound around her neck, crossed between her breasts and tied her
pale peach gown tightly at the waist. Her lustrous black hair was bound
in a net of gold thread.
She looked at him quizzically. Daoud studied her face. Her long,
straight nose, dark red lips and delicate chin made him glad that
Christian women went unveiled. He could well believe this woman had
enjoyed the attentions of an emperor and a king. He himself could not
look at her without wishing he might take her in his arms.
"Well, my Frankish-Turkish master-slave, what has your busy mind found
for me to do? Do you wish me to get myself shot in the street by
Venetians? Or create a disturbance in church and be tortured to death?"
Her thrusts caught Daoud off balance. Feeling a surge of anger, he was
silent for a moment.
Then he jabbed a finger at her. "Do you understand what is at stake
here?"
Her full lower lip pushed out. "I do not understand why you had to send
a pious simpleton to a horrible death."
Guilt twisted in Daoud's guts like a Hashishiyya dagger. Yet he could
not admit to Sophia that he regretted what happened to the heretic. She
might approve his feeling, but she would also lose confidence in him.
"I will use any weapon I can find," he said. "Even if it breaks in my
hand."
Sophia sat down on the marble lip of the fish pond. After a moment's
hesitation Daoud sat beside her, smoothing his red cloak under him.
"Where is Lorenzo?" she asked. "I have not seen him since the day the
Tartars arrived."
"He visits Spoleto, to find a few bold men for me." Lorenzo would bring
back two or three men from Spoleto. Later he would gather more men in
Viterbo, Chiusi, and other nearby cities. Imperceptibly over the coming
months, bands of armed men--the Italians called them "bravos"--would
gather in Orvieto to do Daoud's bidding.
Acting as a go-between for Daoud and the bravos was a mission at which
Lorenzo should do well.
"The men Lorenzo brings here will not know my name or my face," he went
on. "In a few days Cardinal Ugolini will take me before the pope, and I
will warn him against the Tartars from my own true experience of them.
I must not be connected with other things done against the Tartars,
disturbances among the people, armed attacks. That is why Rachel is such
a danger."
She had been looking thoughtfully at the pebbled path. When he spoke
Rachel's name, she lifted her head to stare at him.
"Are you going to make me give up Rachel?"