uslim, even a
Mameluke! And, by the way, it was _I_ who brought him into Orvieto.'"

Ugolini covered his eyes with his hand. He did look as if he had been
losing sleep, Daoud thought, remembering what Tilia had told him.

Daoud felt his teeth grinding together in frustration. It would be
easier to fight a band of Tartars than to try to put courage into this
one little man. And he needed more from the cardinal than compliance.

_I must make him want, not just to help me, but to lead the opposition
to the Tartars. Otherwise this will be like trying to move the arms and
legs of a dead man._

"The cardinals speak Latin to one another, do they not?" Daoud asked. "I
will say my piece in Greek and you will translate it into Latin for me.
So you will have a chance to cover any errors I make."

"Why must you go before the pope?" Ugolini demanded. "It is foolish
bravado. Remain in seclusion and tell me what you want done and I will
have it done for you."

The thought of keeping himself in hiding while trying to act through
others made Daoud's flesh crawl. But there was a bit of hope here. At
least Ugolini was offering to do _something_.

"This is a thing only I can do," Daoud said. "Only I have seen the
Tartars, met them in battle. Only I have seen what they do to a
conquered city." The sight and smell of those heaps of rotting corpses
arose in his mind, and he shut his eyes momentarily. "What I can say is
too important a weapon to be left unwielded. I know the Tartars better
than any man in Orvieto, except for that priest in the brown robe who
came with them. And he is on the other side."

"How will you tell what you know without admitting that you are a Muslim
warrior?"

"Many Christian traders now visit the lands occupied by the Tartars.
David of Trebizond has been one of them." He spread his arms. "As you
see, I now dress like a wealthy merchant."

Celino had gone out with a bag of florins from Ugolini's first sale of
jewels, and he had come back with a chest full of new clothes for Daoud.
Today Daoud wore a silk cape as red as a cardinal's robe. It was light
in weight and came down to his knees, more for display than for
covering. Under the cloak he wore a tunic of deep purple embroidered
with gold thread.

Ugolini shook his head. "Clothing will not deceive the pope and those
around him. You are asking too much of me."

Daoud wished he could give this up. Ugolini was nothing but a sodden
lump of fear. But he h