"I hope that you were not upset by the bloody execution of that heretic
last week," Simon said once again.

"Oh, no." David smiled. "But I saw you there, and you seemed to be."

_God's wounds, how true that is!_ was Simon's first thought. He had held
himself rigid throughout the heretic's horrible death, afraid that he
would throw up.

But how disturbing to discover that this Greek merchant, apparently an
enemy, had seen right through Simon's effort to appear imperturbable. Of
all the people in Orvieto, this man was the last Simon would want to
reveal himself to. He cursed himself for giving David such a perfect
opening.

_How could I be such a fool? And I thought I was so clever, addressing
him in French._

Simon had been anticipating his next encounter with David with a mixture
of eagerness, fear, and anger, almost as if it were to be a battle. Now
he wished he had stayed away from the man.

"I felt sorry for the poor devil, as I believe a Christian should,"
Simon said. "Did you not?"

There was a baleful look in David's eyes, as if he hated Simon for his
answer.

But the man from Trebizond only shrugged and said, "I have seen much
blood and pain in my life."

A broad figure in a white robe billowed up to Simon and David. Simon
remembered him from the pope's council--Fra Tomasso d'Aquino, the
distinguished Dominican. The friar's belt of rosary beads rattled as he
walked. It would take a week, Simon thought, to recite all the Our
Fathers and Hail Marys that encircled Fra Tomasso.

"Count, I trust you will forgive my interrupting you. I have already had
the pleasure of meeting Messer David of Trebizond, but I have wanted to
speak to you ever since you arrived in Orvieto. As a seminarian I
studied for a year in Paris under your uncle, Hugues de Gobignon. A
friar of great renown. His murder was such a tragedy."

Simon felt uneasy at reminiscence about the uncle who was not really his
uncle. As he chatted with Fra Tomasso, his eyes roved through the large
room. He noticed the crowd gathered around the Tartars, John and Philip,
who were seated in large, comfortable-looking chairs placed near a
crowned swan at the center of a serving table. He saw a servant pour
wine into a silver cup John held out to him. More of that wonderful wine
of Montefiascone?

Beside the Tartars stood a woman named Ana from the land of the Bulgars,
territory now ruled by the Tartars. Anything, thought Simon bitterly, to
keep Fria