balance himself, riding easily down to the valley
floor.

As she drew nearer to him, her heart started to hammer in her chest. The
lower half of his face was covered by a short blond beard. The face was
still in shadow, but the nose was long and straight.

Most of all, it was his carriage that told her who he was. He held
himself so perfectly erect that he almost seemed made of some substance
lighter and finer than ordinary flesh. And yet there was not a trace of
stiffness in his posture. Like a young tree. Some vessel seemed to open
within her and spread a gentle, joyous balm throughout her body.

Ahead of her, Ugolini, alerted by his guards, had thrown back the
curtains of his sedan chair and was leaning out. He was bareheaded, his
white side-whiskers fluttering in the breeze. He must be beside himself
with excitement, Sophia thought, at the prospect of reunion with Tilia.

The horseman touched his right hand to his white turban in salute to
Ugolini, and rode on past.

How splendidly he was caparisoned, from the white plume in his turban to
his jeweled, carved stirrups. The breastplate over his long red riding
robe was of polished steel, inlaid with gold in Arabic spirals. Jewels
sparkled on the hilt and sheath of his sword.

He was close enough for her to see his face clearly. His new beard gave
him a commanding, princely look. Seeing him like this, she understood
better what the word _Mameluke_ meant. She felt as if a new sun had
arisen before her. How unbelievably lucky she was to be loved by such a
man.

But, like an enemy in ambush, the pain of her indecision struck her in
the heart.

_The more fool I am to have betrayed him._

He drew up beside her and rode around her sedan chair so that the head
of his glistening black horse was toward Lucera. In a sudden movement he
leaned down from the saddle. An irresistible arm encircled her waist and
pulled her up out of the sedan chair. For a moment she felt alarmed and
amazed, as if she were flying through the air. Then, before she could
scream, she found herself comfortably seated across the great horse, her
shoulder resting on his breastplate, his arms around her.

Her only fear was that she might faint at his touch.

And like that they rode into Lucera. Together for all the world to see.

* * * * *

What exquisite irony! She gazed around the bedchamber Daoud had led her
to, hardly able to believe her eyes. The big bed wit