cardo helped her down from her horse and
Simon came forward.

She took Simon's arm, and he led her into the pine forest beside the
road. She studied his face, trying to guess what thoughts were passing
behind his somber blue eyes.

As soon as they were out of sight of their companions, she asked him,
"Are you going to Perugia ahead of the pope?"

He did not answer her at once, so she kept her gaze on him.

Sophia enjoyed looking at Simon as she enjoyed looking at beautiful
icons, jewels, sculptures. Yet his body did not have the fine
proportions she had seen in statues made by Greeks of old. He was very
tall and slender, all sharp lines pointing to heaven. His head, framed
by long dark brown hair, was narrow, the nose and chin angular. His
eyes, set in deep hollows, were bright with candor and intelligence,
though at times she saw in them a haunted look.

She even found his barbaric Frankish garb pleasing. From Simon's narrow
shoulders hung a cloak of rich crimson silk, and he wore a soft maroon
cap adorned with a blood-red feather. The purple surcoat that extended
below his knees sparkled with dozens of embroidered repetitions of a
design of three gold crowns. In Constantinople only the Basileus and his
consort were permitted to wear purple. From Simon's black leather belt,
decorated with silver plates, hung a curving Saracen sword. Precious
stones twinkled in its handle.

Now that she considered it, she recalled that she had always seen Simon
in more subdued colors.

_He dressed this way to please me_, she thought fondly.

He looked away from her, but there was nowhere for him to look. They
were walled in on all sides by a thick growth of pines. The lower trunks
of the trees were straight and clean, like the poles of a palisade,
their branches, which started higher than she could reach, putting out
the bright green needles of new summer growth. Somewhere far above them
was the cloudy, rain-heavy sky, but here they were enveloped in deep
shadow under interlocked pine branches. The forest was so dark and
soundless that she began to feel a little frightened. Simon and she were
enemies, after all, even though she hoped he would never realize it. She
often forgot it herself, when she was with him, liking him as much as
she did.

"I am not going to Perugia," he said.

"Did you have me ride all the way out here to tell me no more than
that?" she demanded.

"I wanted to tell you that I love you," he said hoarsel