is healthy. It burns
out impurities." He laughed bitterly. "I hope it is burning the
stupidity out of me."

"You--stupid?" She laughed.

He did not join her. It pleased him a little, in the midst of his
anguish and self-disgust, to see that she thought well of him. But she
was wrong about him--and her life depended on him, and that thought made
him feel worse.

"De Gobignon was waiting for me. He knew I was coming for the Tartars.
He _knew_."

"How much could he have known?" she asked. "No one knew what your plans
were."

"Sophia, if de Gobignon had not been there, I would have been able to
kill those two barbarian pigs easily. I did my best, with all my skill,
all my training, all my experience, and it went for nothing."

That was a pain Soma would not shield him from, the pain of failure. It
felt like a mace blow to his chest every time he remembered the fight in
the blackness of the spice pantry.

To drive away the damnable memory of being routed by the Christians, he
had to concentrate on the present and the future.

"Send someone to fetch Sordello to me."

"You should be resting."

He laughed and touched her hand lightly. "Resting! Our enemies are not
resting." She sighed, but went.

When Sordello entered Daoud's room, Lorenzo followed him closely, eyes
boring into the back of the mercenary's skull. Sophia entered behind
Lorenzo.

Trembling, Sordello knelt by Daoud's bed. "I feared for you, Messer
David. I am happy to see you looking so well."

Would Sordello give up the pleasures of hashish and the promise of a
paradise with beautiful women? What reward could Simon de Gobignon offer
him that could be more enticing?

_Yet, I have always known that this man was a two-edged sword that could
turn in my hand._

"The Monaldeschi were prepared for us," said Daoud. "They were armed and
on their battlements when we came. Someone warned them."

"You do not suspect me, Messer David?" Sordello, crouched on the floor
by Daoud's bed, looked up slyly sideways at him. "I would be a fool to
injure one who has been so great a benefactor to me."

Daoud felt rage boil up inside him at Sordello's false abjectness. He
glared at the old bravo and saw a faint tremor in his jaw.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he leaned toward Sordello. "Your
fawning insults me. I think you lie."

Hatred briefly twisted Sordello's face. Then a knowing smile made it
even uglier.

"Messer David, if I had told the Count de Gobi