d. If Tilia could afford
to burn this many candles every night, her trade must be profitable
indeed.

He understood now why the interior of Tilia's establishment was so
different from the exterior. She must have acquired all the buildings
side by side along this street and then hollowed them out. He noticed
that where the walls of the building through which he had entered should
have been, there stood marble Roman columns two stories high. Counting
the rows of columns stretching right and left, he estimated that this
great hall must be as wide as five of the original houses that had been
absorbed into Tilia's mansion.

The black man struck a large gong beside the door, giving off a low,
mellow note. Almost immediately Tilia appeared at the top of the
staircase. Smiling broadly, she flounced down the steps, the gold and
jewels scattered over her person throwing off sparks in every direction.

"I knew you would be coming soon, David," she said in a low voice. "I am
glad you came early in the evening. We can talk freely now. If more of
my clients were here, we would have to seclude ourselves."

Daoud jerked his head at the black servant. "Why in God's name do you
dress your men as Muslims here, where there is so much fear and hatred
of 'Saracens,' as they call us?"

Tilia laughed, the pillow of flesh under her chin quivering. "Do you not
know that it has long been fashionable among Christians to borrow from
the world of Islam? They copy everything from ways of dressing to words
and ideas. Most people think the Hohenstaufens have gone too far with
their Saracen army, but among the great houses of Italy each must have
its Moorish servants with great turbans and sashes and pantaloons. And
here in Orvieto, the pope's city, it makes my clients feel especially
wicked to enter a house staffed with slaves so dressed."

"I would not enjoy going into a brothel where the servants were dressed
like Christian monks," Daoud said scornfully.

Tilia sighed. "I will tell you what seeing these men in Saracen garb
does for me. It reminds me of when I was a young woman in Cairo." She
looked around at her hall and sighed again. "Young and beautiful and
unhappy. Now I am rich and content, but I tell you in all honesty I
would give all this up to be young and beautiful."

Daoud was surprised. He had not known that Tilia had once lived in El
Kahira. Was that, he wondered, how Baibars came to know her? Was that
why, even though Daoud did