ned reassuringly at Rachel. "I told you it would be all
right." When he grinned like that, his teeth white under his thick black
mustache, he reminded Sophia of a large and satisfied cat.

Rachel looked up at David. "I thank _you_, Signore. I know this is your
decision. May I know the name of my benefactor?"

David smiled bitterly. "Benefactor? Rachel, if you had not met us, your
protector would still be alive. I am David Burian, a silk merchant of
Trebizond. I go to Orvieto hoping to open trade between Trebizond and
the Papal States, and I have hired these people to help me."

"May I also help you, Signore?" Rachel said. "I learned something of
commerce from my husband."

"I think," David said, looking at Sophia and Lorenzo with sour humor, "I
already have all the help I need."

_At least the man is human_, thought Sophia. _He can joke a bit._

She felt encouraged. She had actually been able to touch the heart of
this man whose life and world were utterly strange to her.

X

There is so much water in this country, thought Daoud. Raindrops
sparkled on every branch and leaf of the trees around him. The sky, once
more a bright blue after the thunderstorm that had passed over them, was
reflected in water that still streamed through the ditches beside the
roadway.

Fortunate that Rachel's husband, a man who had spent many months of the
year on the roads of Italy buying and selling books in the Jewish
communities, had carried a tent with him. Daoud, Sophia, Rachel, and
even Scipio had all crowded into it when they saw the storm coming. The
tent had leaked, but the heat of the August afternoon would soon dry
them.

Daoud hoped none of the others had noticed his fear during the storm. He
had been in the desert when lightning crackled in black clouds and the
wind blew smothering waves of sand. But the thunderstorms they had been
through had seemed to be just overhead, and so much water had fallen
from the sky, Daoud was sure they would soon be drowned. It seemed
almost miraculous to him that he could emerge from Rachel's tent alive
and find the world outside as intact as he had left it. Better than he
left it, because it was now washed clean of dust.

He walked to the edge of the road to see if Lorenzo was returning from
Orvieto.

Orvieto.

Across the valley, out of a deep-green forest rose a gigantic yellow
rock shaped like a camel's hump. Crowning the hump, a wall of gray stone
encircled the peaked ro