covered
cart full of big urns of olive oil. The air, much cooler than before the
storm, felt refreshing on Sophia's face. Getting into the cart, Sophia
looked up and saw big black clouds rolling across the sky, their rounded
edges outlined by the red light of the setting sun.

The cart, pulled by an old draft horse, bumped over cobblestones and
splashed through puddles. Tilia and Sophia sat on a bench behind
Riccardo, under the cart's canvas cover, so they could not be seen from
the street. All around them Sophia heard church bells ringing for the
Angelus. She could close her eyes for a moment and imagine she was
hearing the bells of the three hundred churches of Constantinople. She
longed to be in the Polis again, among civilized people.

_That is why I am here, is it not? To keep the barbarians here, and away
from there._

She saw torchlight ahead. This was Tilia's street, farther up a hill
that slowed down the elderly horse.

From this distance the house looked undamaged, but what was that hanging
above the door?

"Merciful God!" Sophia whispered.

She saw the body of a man suspended from a rope tied to the balcony
above the doorway.

"Oh, God," said Tilia. "Oh, poor, poor Cassio." She dabbed at her eyes
with the sleeve of her gown.

Now, by the torchlight, Sophia could see several men, dressed in the
yellow and blue of the commune, gathered in front of the house. The
podesta's watchmen.

The street was full of common folk, who had to back up to give the cart
room to move forward. As it approached the front door, one of the
podesta's men raised a hand to stop it.

"I will be right back," Tilia said, squeezing Sophia's arm. She
clambered out of the cart with Riccardo's help. Riccardo tied the cart
to a hitching post on the side of the street.

Tying her scarf across her face, Sophia watched from inside the cart.
The man who had stopped the horse barred Tilia again as she started
toward her house. He was a slender, middle-aged man with a prominent
arch to his nose and heavy-lidded eyes. Riccardo moved toward him, but
Tilia put her hand on the servant's arm. Tilia would not want the
cardinal's man brawling with an officer of the watch.

"I am Tilia Caballo, and this is my house," she said in a commanding
voice. "How long have you been here?"

What a brave woman Tilia was, Sophia thought. Could she herself face an
officer of the watch and speak to him sternly like that?

"Since the hour of None, Madam