ar
from the truth, anyway._

"Are you also from Trebizond, Messer Giancarlo?"

The dark brown eyes were watchful. "I am a Neapolitan, Signore. Messer
David hired me when he arrived in Italy."

_So it is David of Trebizond who is bringing bravos into the city. What
for?_

* * * * *

Out on the street, Simon looked at the spot where the crossbowmen had
spilled two men's blood. He felt a weary anger. Two lives cut off
because of that fool de Verceuil and his vanity.

Where the men had been shot there now stood rows of bowls and pots, from
small to large. They were painted white, with pretty floral designs in
red, blue, and green. A woman sat on the ground beside the display,
painting a freshly baked jug. She looked up at Simon, then scrambled to
her feet and stood, bowing deeply.

"Fine vases and plates, Your Signory? The earthenware of Orvieto is the
most beautiful in the world."

Simon smiled. "No doubt, but not today, thank you." He must remember to
bring some samples back to Gobignon, though, he thought. It was
fine-looking ware, and it might give the potters of Gobignon-la-Ville
some good ideas.

He turned and stared back at the mansion, a great cream-colored cube of
the same tufa as the rock on which Orvieto stood.

From that rooftop, David of Trebizond had watched the heckling, the
throwing of garbage and dung, the sudden killings.

Simon almost expected to see David appear on the roof now, but it
remained empty. The cardinal's mansion remained flat and featureless,
revealing nothing.

Simon sighed longingly. _Oh, for another glimpse of the cardinal's
niece._

But there was no sign of her, and he could not stand here any longer.
Sighing again, he walked away.

XVI

The door leading from Cardinal Ugolini's private cabinet to the solar
swung back, and David came in. As always when she first caught sight of
David, Sophia felt her heart give a little jongleur's somersault. She
loved the look of his hard eyes with their suggestion of weariness at
having seen too much.

But now those eyes were turned toward her, and they were narrowed
angrily.

"Why were you rude to him?"

His harsh tone, when she was so pleased to see him, hurt her. She had no
ready answer for him. To give herself time to think, she walked to the
small chair Simon had occupied and sat down in it.

Cardinal Ugolini, sitting at his carved oak table, spoke up.

"Sophia put him in his place