Though Sophia felt inclined to share Ugolini's fear, she delighted in
David's humorous courage. She could not take her eyes from his golden
head as he stood in the middle of the room with the light from the
window shining on him.
"That, d'Aquino will find even easier to detect than heresy," said
Ugolini.
A small, amused smile played about David's lips. "Do you not think I
have prepared myself for such a conversation? We need a respected man
who can write letters and give sermons warning Christendom against the
Tartars. If Fra Tomasso can be convinced the Tartars are dangerous, and
if I can offer him something he wants badly enough, he might be the
man."
"He and his fellow Dominicans will eat you alive," Ugolini moaned.
"I can accomplish nothing hiding here in your palace." David gazed down
at the cardinal, unruffled.
Sophia sat perfectly still, hands folded in her lap, looking down at
Ugolini's beautiful Persian carpet. But the quarreling made her writhe
inwardly. If they could not agree, if they were not careful in their
planning, if they started to hate one another, they surely would end by
being torn to pieces on the public scaffold.
"Let us speak about the young French count," she said. "He, too, might
be a man we can use. I did my best to attract him to me today."
_If he thinks there is hope of my seducing Simon, he will not be so
quick to want to kill him._
David's eyes held hers for a long moment. "That is what I want you to
do. That was why I was angry, not understanding this courtly love." His
face was somber. "That is what I brought you here for."
She nodded, thinking, _If only you could be my lover. There would be
nothing courtly about it, and it would bring us both great happiness._
But only a moment ago, had she not been thinking of Simon, fearing for
Simon's life? Had she not almost felt love for him?
_What is happening to me?_
Her hands in her lap clutched at each other. She felt dizzy. It had
happened so easily, so quickly. Was she becoming more than one person,
like someone possessed by spirits? How could you know who you were
unless you had a place and were firmly attached to other people?
Now, looking at David, she was aware of the feelings Simon had aroused
in her as if they were the feelings of another person. Sophia
Karaiannides wanted David. Her longing for him had been growing in her
ever since their eyes first met in Manfred's audience hall months
before.
"What is troubling you?" David said, frowning.
She felt flustered. "Nothing." When he looked skeptical, she added, "I
am not certain how he feels about me."
David glowered at her. She tried to read his expression. He looked
angry. Was he angry at her for being willing to take Simon as a lover?
_He probably thinks I am nothing but a whore._
She liked to think of herself as a woman who was able to move easily in
many circles, a woman who involved herself in affairs of state. But was
she not deceiving herself? Was it not that all men valued her for was
her body in bed? And David did not even want that; he just wanted to use
her body to ensnare Simon de Gobignon.
Then why did he look at her so angrily?
"How will you find out what he feels for you?" David said. "Will you
wait for him to make the next move?"
"I will send him a small favor, something he recognizes as mine. Then we
will see how interested he is."
"Good," said David briskly.
As if dismissing her, he turned to Lorenzo. "Speaking of ladies and
love, our young friend Rachel is still living here. I want you to escort
her to Madama Tilia's house this afternoon."
Sophia stifled a gasp. She felt as if she had been struck from behind.
She wanted to cry out in protest, but she knew it was useless.
"Must I?" said Lorenzo, and Sophia saw pain in his eyes.
"Remember your promise to me in Rome," David said, fixing him with a
grim stare.