ld
fester inside him, slowly poisoning him.

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she could see the suffering
in Simon's long, narrow face as he waited for her answer. Starlight
twinkled on the jeweled handle of the sword at his belt. What she told
him might make him hate her so much that he would kill her.

_I have never been more willing to die._

"Simon, I promised you that when I saw you again I would tell you why I
could not marry you. I hoped I never would have to tell you."

He said, "I had not wanted to fight in this war of Charles against
Manfred, or to bring the men of Gobignon with me. When I found that you
had fled to Manfred's kingdom, I changed my mind."

Her pain had been like a pile of rocks heaped upon her, and what he said
was the final boulder crushing her. Her ribs seemed to splinter; her
lungs labored for breath.

_So I must bear the guilt for Simon's coming to the war. How many men
died today because of me?_

She could hardly feel more sorrow, but the night around her seemed to
grow blacker. Perhaps it would be best if he did kill her. She would
tell him everything straight out, without trying to protect herself from
his anger.

"My name is Sophia Karaiannides. I worked as a spy in Constantinople for
Michael Paleologos and helped him overthrow the Frankish usurper. I was
Michael's concubine for a time. Then he sent me to be his private
messenger to Manfred's court here in Italy. Manfred chose to make me his
mistress. But that became difficult for him and dangerous for me. When
Daoud came to Manfred asking for help in thwarting the Tartar alliance,
Manfred sent me along to Orvieto to help him. I fell in love with
Daoud."

Simon leaned his long body against the outer wall of the house. Having
to hear this all at once must be overwhelming.

"So you went from one to bed to the next as you went from one country to
the next."

It hurt her to hear his words, his voice tight with pain, but she had
expected this.

"Daoud and I did not come together as man and woman at first," she said.
"He did not want to be close to me."

He staggered back to the edge of the balcony as if she had struck him,
and she was afraid he might fall.

He whispered, "Not at first! But you did--"

"Yes, we did," she said, thinking, _Now he is going to draw that
scimitar and kill me_.

But the only movement he made was a slight wave of his hand, telling her
to go on.

"I must tell you, Simon, that it was