enmity to the Tartars is
more important to you than your profit as a merchant?"

Daoud's heart beat harder. That was too close to the mark. It was
foolish of him to jest with a man who had the power to condemn him and
his friends to be tortured and burned like that poor madman.

"I regret that I have offended Your Eminence," he said. "I have seen
what I have seen, and I am honor bound to speak the truth. And profit
will do me no good if the Tartars slaughter us all."

"You are ignorant of our ways," de Verceuil said ominously, after a long
pause during which Daoud felt raindrops strike his face. "Have a care
that you do not slip into pitfalls you cannot possibly foresee."

First de Verceuil joked, then he threatened, then he offered
hospitality, then he threatened again. He seemed to have no sense of how
to deal with men.

_Even if we were on the same side, I would hate him. What a trial he
must be for his allies._

But Daoud was eager to get away without creating any deeper enmity
between himself and the cardinal. "I thank you again for your offer of
hospitality, Your Eminence. Even if I cannot come to live at the
Monaldeschi palace, I do hope to meet the contessa. She has graciously
invited Cardinal Ugolini to her reception for the Tartar ambassadors,
and I shall accompany him."

"Do not think you are free to do as you please in Orvieto," said de
Verceuil angrily. "You are being closely watched." He turned abruptly
and strode off. Daoud bowed politely to his scarlet back. Casting ugly
looks at Daoud, the cardinal's men followed.

Daoud told himself that it would be wise to be frightened. But what he
felt was more a profound disdain for Paulus de Verceuil.

_As a man of religion or of power, how can this squawking bird in red
plumage compare with Sheikh Saadi and the Imam Fayum of the
Hashishiyya?_

The rain was coming down harder. It hissed in the still-burning heap of
wood and bones.

A movement near the cathedral steps caught Daoud's eye. He turned and
saw Simon de Gobignon looking at him. Why was he alone? Had he, like
Daoud, not wanted any of his comrades to see this horror?

How infuriating it must be for that proud young Frank to have to work
closely with a man like Cardinal de Verceuil. The cardinal was so
arrogant, so overbearing, so crude as to turn people _against_ any cause
he might support, no matter how worthy.

As the rain fell on him, Daoud hardly noticed it. He saw a new plan
shimmeri