If she left Perugia, that would be as good as abandoning Rachel. She had
sworn to herself never to do that.

_Simon guards the Tartars. He must know what has happened to Rachel.
Perhaps he can help her._

She stopped walking and leaned against the stone railing of the loggia.
The leafless branches in the atrium below them rattled in the wind.

"There are many reasons that I did not want to see you. I do not know
whether you would understand all of them. But one is that I have heard
something very ugly about those Tartars of yours." She had decided not
to admit that she knew Rachel. That would take too much explaining and
too many more lies, and the lies would be like hidden holes in a
leaf-strewn path, to trip her up.

"One of the Tartars, those men you guard so carefully, kidnapped a young
girl from Orvieto and is holding her a prisoner now, here in Perugia at
the Baglioni palace. It makes me unhappy to know that you are the
protector of men who would do such things."

Down below, two of Ugolini's servants brought out baskets of newly
washed tablecloths and bedlinens and began spreading them on the
branches of the trees to dry. Sophia spoke in a lower voice, giving
details of the attack on Tilia's house by de Verceuil and the Tartars as
if it were something she knew about only through hearsay, while Simon
looked more and more unhappy.

He frowned at her. "I know of this girl. It is John Chagan who keeps
her. But what is she to you? She is not even a Christian. I am surprised
that a woman of good family like you should worry about a prostitute."

How easy for a count to look down on a girl like Rachel. She felt her
back stiffen with anger.

_How he would despise me if he knew what I was._

_But what am I?_

"Does it lower me in your eyes that I worry about such a girl?"

He waved his hands placatingly. "No, no. Such charitable feelings do you
credit. I _would_ like to help her, and I know Friar Mathieu has already
tried. I just wondered how _you_ came to know and care about this girl's
case." He looked earnestly into her eyes. His eyes were a blue as clear
and bright as that lake where they had lain together.

"The story is talked about by all the servants and common folk of the
town. I feel very sorry for her. She is just a child. I find myself
imagining how she feels--kidnapped, helpless, raped by this barbarian, a
prisoner. Have you not seen her yourself?"

Simon nodded reluctantly, looking away. "Y