oom just before the light went out, moaning with
pain. He heard men stumbling about. They kept bumping into him. He
lowered his scimitar to avoid stabbing someone by accident.

A crash made Simon jump. That was the lantern, smashed probably, by the
man in black, so that no one could relight it.

Next he would start killing them, one by one.

_God, if only I had some light. Just a little._

The odors of the precious spices the Monaldeschi stored in this pantry
pervaded the air--saffron, cardamom, pepper, cloves, ginger, nutmeg,
cinnamon. When Simon had first entered the spice pantry a short time ago
it had seemed a pleasant enough smell. Now it was making him sick.

Was there still a lighted candle in the cellar outside?

"The door!" he shouted. "Get the door open." Friar Mathieu repeated his
command in the Armenian tongue.

He heard a scraping, as of someone pulling on the heavy bolt that held
the door shut. Then a thud and a choking cry of pain. Then a sound like
a heavy sack being dropped.

Simon groaned inwardly. He could picture what had happened. Now the door
was held shut, not just by a bolt, but by a dead body.

He felt ice cold, but sweat trickled under his mail. The blackness was
thick, a blanket, smothering him. The smells of the spices were cloying,
dizzying. His stomach felt queasy.

"Flint and tinder!" Simon shouted, and Friar Mathieu repeated his words
for the Armenians and Tartars. Everything he said had to be translated.
The delay was maddening.

And, Simon realized, anyone who tried to strike a light would make
himself the enemy's next target.

God's blood, even by answering Friar Mathieu the Tartars would give away
their location to the stalker. The man in black must be able to find his
victims by listening for them.

So, if sound would make them visible, then the only way to thwart this
demon would be by silence. And even now men were starting to answer
Simon's call for flint.

"Silence!" he shouted. His voice sounded shrill in his ears, like a
frightened boy's.

For a moment there was no sound in the blackness.

"He finds us by the sounds we make," Simon said. "Everyone remain still,
and we will hear him when he moves."

As Friar Mathieu translated, Simon realized that either he or Friar
Mathieu could be the next victim. The stalker would want to kill the
Franciscan so Simon could not communicate with the others.

And one Armenian was badly hurt, one was probably dead outside an