cked by a man in a scarlet robe. From beneath the
wide circular brim of a great red hat, the long, dark face of Cardinal
de Verceuil glowered at him. Thick red tassels hung down from the hat
all around the cardinal's head.

Immediately behind de Verceuil stood two attendants. One held high a
white banner blazoned with a red cross and a gold flower shape in two of
the quarters; the other man, a sturdy, shaven-headed young cleric in
black cassock, carried a long golden rod that curved into a tight spiral
at the top. That was called a crosier, Daoud recalled, and was the
cardinal's staff of office. Behind them were four men-at-arms who looked
hard at Daoud, as if expecting him to give offense to their master.
Daoud wondered if the cardinal would consider having him killed here in
public. Daoud stared at him through the smoky air, measuring him,
looking for those small signs of tension to be found in a man about to
order an attack. The man seemed too relaxed for that.

"No, Your Eminence, we only stone our heretics to death."

De Verceuil smiled. "That may be a better way of disposing of them.
After a burning, the unpleasant thought always occurs to me that I am
carrying the heretic away in my nostrils and lungs."

Sickened inwardly at this reminder of the rancid smell that had come
from the heretic's pyre, Daoud smiled at the grisly jest, as he assumed
the cardinal expected him to. He remained silent, waiting for de
Verceuil to reveal the reason for this encounter.

"Ordinarily we merely burn heretics," the cardinal went on. "We had this
man tormented first because he threatened our guests, the Tartar
ambassadors, and disturbed a service in the cathedral with the pope
himself present. We had to be severe with him."

"Assuredly," said Daoud, still smiling. De Verceuil's Italian sounded
strange to him. He must be speaking it with a French accent.

"But perhaps, since you seem to think the Tartars are such a danger to
Christendom," said de Verceuil in a voice that was lower and more
menacing, "you approve of what that man did." He gestured toward the
burning scaffold. The stake and whatever was left of the body bound to
it had fallen through the platform into the pile of faggots. A breeze
had sprung up and was blowing the smoke away from Daoud and the
cardinal, for which Daoud thanked God.

"I came here today to see justice done," Daoud said firmly.

"You profess the Greek Church," said de Verceuil, eyeing him coldly