a heard Scipio barking in the room below, Tilia and Ugolini's room,
where they had tied him. There was, she knew, no one in the house except
the three of them. The house belonged to a Guelfo merchant who had fled
town when Manfred's army arrived. But she did not hear anyone moving
about downstairs, as they would if they were looting the place. Instead,
heavy footsteps came up the stairs and a voice called, "Madonna Sophia!
Madonna Sophia, are you up there?"

Her heart leapt with relief. It was not yet Daoud, but it must be
someone he had sent. They were rescued.

She was about to explain the good news to the others when the door to
the room swung open. There, grinning triumphantly at her, sword in hand,
stood Sordello.

He strode across the room, the floorboards squeaking under his boots,
and stood facing her. The hound's barking boomed up from below. Her
heart sank. She had never trusted this man. Her flesh crawled whenever
he looked at her.

"Thank God I have found you, Madonna."

Two men followed him in, dressed in the padded body armor and
bowl-shaped helmets of crossbowmen. As he did, they carried shortswords.

"How _did_ you find me, Sordello, and for whom are you fighting?"

His back was to the two men who had followed him. He frowned at her and
shook his head slightly, as if trying to tell her not to say too much.
But the little signal did not allay her suspicion of him, and her fear.

"Why, I am here in the service of Charles d'Anjou, rightful King of
Sicily by decree of the pope," Sordello trumpeted. "And I serve His
Signory, Count Simon de Gobignon." Gloved fists on his hips, he turned
slowly to gaze around the room.

At his words, the pool of fear became a flood of terror that threatened
to sweep her from her feet. She swayed dizzily. This meant the battle
was surely lost.

_Dear God, what has happened to Daoud?_

With a life of their own, her trembling hands pressed against her
stomach.

"And look who we have here," Sordello said. "His magical Eminence, the
vanishing Cardinal Ugolini. And Tilia Caballo, Orvieto's most
distinguished brothel keeper, of whose establishment I have such happy
memories. Are you two now reduced to being Manfred's camp followers?"

Tilia stared with wide-eyed hatred at Sordello. Ugolini's face was as
blank as if he had been clubbed. What Tilia had said earlier about cat
and mouse was apt, thought Sophia. Sordello was tormenting his prey.

_But he could have learned