like a whore. David sends me to seduce this man who is his enemy._

And that, she thought, was why she so much hated to see what had
happened to Rachel, and to know that David had done it and that she
herself had a hand in it.

"You will never come back to Orvieto, will you?" she said
disconsolately.

His grip on her hand tightened. "No. That is why I wanted to meet you
today. Tell me--if your uncle goes to Perugia to follow the pope, will
you go with him?"

She let her body lean sideways till she was pressed against him. "Oh, I
am sure my uncle will go. He is the cardinal camerlengo, after all. As
for me, I would go if I thought I would see you there."

His head drew down toward hers. "Do you care for me that much?"

"I have never known love like this, Simon. My husband was kind to me,
and I was sorry when he died, but the way I feel about you is
different. I think I will die if I do not know when I can see you
again."

Joy lit up his thin face, and she despised herself. "I will find you,
Sophia. I will be gone for months. But I will ride like the wind, and
when I come back it will be to Perugia."

_He must be going to France!_ He was traveling with but one man, so as
to go faster. The Tartars had nearly been killed in the Filippeschi
uprising, but he would be leaving them for _months_.

Only one thing could be more important to Simon than the lives of the
two Tartars, and that was what the Tartars represented.

The pope must be offering to approve the alliance. Simon must be
carrying the message.

_When I tell David about this, he will ride after Simon and kill him._

Her thoughts began to race. Even if Simon were stopped, was it not still
too late to keep the Franks and the Tartars from joining forces? No,
probably not, because the pope was dying. If this alliance were not
settled now, the talking and deciding would have to begin all over
again, with a new pope.

Could she seduce Simon into abandoning his mission altogether, running
off with her? No, he would never betray so great a trust, not even for
love of her.

"I swear to you, I will find you, I will see you again, Sophia," he was
saying. "Believe me."

_You will not live long enough._

"I do believe you, Simon." Her loathing for herself grew stronger.

Now his arms were around her, and he was pressing her back, away from
the tree trunk and down onto the soft bed of pine needles.

His open mouth was against hers, his lips devouring hers