Daoud said, "Arrange for me to meet secretly with Marco di Filippeschi.
And send word to King Manfred that the pope and the French are about to
reach agreement on the Tartar alliance, and when they do the French will
come pouring into Italy. Tell him now is the time for his Ghibellino
allies in the north to march on Orvieto."
Lorenzo nodded. "I will send one of my men to Lucera." He shook his
head. "My God, how I wish I could go myself!"
"Once the Tartars are dead," Daoud said, "we will all go home. Now, find
Sordello and send him to my room."
As Daoud left Ugolini's cabinet, he glanced back to see the little
cardinal slumped over the table, knotting his fingers in his fuzzy white
hair. He would have to spend more time with him, to build up his
courage.
* * * * *
Sophia was standing in the hallway when Daoud emerged from his room that
night, on his way to meet with the Filippeschi chieftain. He was not
surprised to see her. Someone, Ugolini or Lorenzo, would have told her
about his new plan. He beckoned her into his room and closed the door.
Each time the thought of defeat arose in his mind, he had felt the
greatest anguish over what it would mean for Sophia. That forced him to
admit to himself how much he cared for her. Now that he looked into her
amber eyes and told her what he intended to do, the pain he felt was
sharper than ever. He wanted to persuade her that she had nothing to
fear. But he knew that would be a lie.
He tried to keep what he said simple, practical. "You, like Sordello,
will bear witness that Lorenzo and I had gone to Perugia while the
Monaldeschi palazzo was under siege. Lorenzo has allies in Perugia who
will confirm that."
Sophia stared at him with wide, solemn eyes. "You are risking
everything." She reached out and seized his hand, gripping it urgently.
"If they find out who you are while you are in the Monaldeschi palace,
it will be the end for all of us."
He felt the strength in her fingers, the softness of her palm, and
wanted to take her in his arms, but he held himself in check. There
could be nothing between them as long as de Gobignon was alive.
"I know a hundred ways to get into a castle and out again," he said,
wishing there had been time to share with her more of his life. "Once I
am inside, I will search out and kill the two Tartars while all the
armed men are occupied with the fighting outside. And then I will
leave." He spread his hands to show how easy it would be.
Inwardly he was ashamed. He was preparing to sacrifice this woman's
life, knowing that she might die a terrible death--rape, torture,
mutilation, public execution. How could he face her at all? That he had
made his decision in order to save hundreds of thousands of his people
from slaughter, his faith from destruction, was no comfort at this
moment alone with Sophia.
"Will you fight Simon?"
He felt his blood go hot. That she should think at all of de Gobignon at
this moment rather than of herself--or of him--made him so angry he
forgot for a moment his own guilt and fear for her life.
"The young count will probably be leading the fight on the battlements."
Daoud tasted the venom in what he was about to say, but he could not
help himself. "It will be quite a shock when he finds the Tartars dead
and realizes how he has failed."
Sophia stood breathing hard, her eyes glistening with tears. "If only
you were not--"