The Saracen: Land of the Infidel by Robert Shea (poetry books to read txt) 📖

bench against the wall opposite Ugolini's table, said, "What is that?" Daoud heard shrill alarm in her voice.

She must suspect it was some sort of drug, thought Daoud with amusement.[304]

The cardinal chuckled amiably. "Only a beverage, my dear. Long used in the Orient by sages and poets. It produces a heightened state of alertness and vigor."

Daoud sipped the hot liquid. The taste was wondrously bracing after months of deprivation, but it was not quite strong enough.

"This is very good, and I am your grateful slave forever," he said. "But you should tell your servants to boil it longer."

Having sensed that Sophia feared his pleasure, he wanted to share it with her that she might see how harmless it was. He went to her and held out his cup.

"Try this. Be careful, the cup is hot."

She took the cup from him, her fingers brushing his. He felt a tingle in his arm. She raised the cup, sniffed suspiciously and grimaced, but took a small sip.

He was disappointed to see her mouth pucker. She did not like it. Well, he could not expect her to take to it at once. He had been drinking it ever since he was a child. Even his crusader family had drunk kaviyeh.

"A very interesting taste," she said, handing back the cup. A Byzantine comment, he thought. He heard Lorenzo chuckle.

A pang of jealousy shot through him. He could not expect her to like kaviyeh any more than he could expect her to love him. Especially not after she had been alone in the Monaldeschi atrium with that damned French count.

His longing for Sophia made his heart ache. If only he could have her for himself, and not be forced to throw her at Simon de Gobignon. But she was no more his than that emerald Baibars had entrusted to him.

Resignedly he told himself he must find out what she had accomplished.

"How did you deal with the Frankish count?"

"As you wished me to."

He walked back to the cardinal's table and turned to face her. Her amber eyes were fixed on him. She must have been watching him cross the room.

"Does he want to see you again?" David demanded.

She shrugged. "He did when I left him. But by now he and Cardinal de Verceuil will have talked together and may well realize my part in what we did to them."

"Well," said Ugolini, rubbing his hands together. "There will be no more need for you to pursue Count Simon, my dear, or for[305] Messer Lorenzo to play backgammon with the French cardinal. And no need for our illustrious David to risk further verbal jousting with the Tartars."

Daoud felt a stab of exasperation. Just as he had feared, Ugolini wanted to believe that with last night's triumph over the Tartars, their work was done. Would he be able to persuade the cardinal to realize this was only the beginning of a long struggle—one in which he, Ugolini, must play the chief part?

"De Verceuil is a clever but sloppy player," Lorenzo interjected. "He kept leaving blots less than six points away from me. But I managed to lose eighty florins to him. That kept him interested. Once he decided I was not a skillful player, he kept doubling the stakes and pressing me to do the same when the choice was mine." He went over to Ugolini's work table and poured himself a cup of kaviyeh.

Ugolini laughed. "He must now think his winnings eighty costly florins indeed." He filled a cup from another pitcher, sprang up, and carried the cup across the room to Sophia.

"You will enjoy this spiced milk more than the Muslim kaviyeh. It is my favorite morning drink."

"You think it is all over, then, Cardinal?" Daoud growled. "I can go away and leave you in peace—and richer?"

From the suddenly outraged face Ugolini turned toward him, Daoud thought the cardinal might well be wishing the Filippeschi had finished him off.

"Was last night not a victory?" the cardinal asked in a choked voice.

"Do you know the difference between winning a battle and winning a war?"

"What more can the French do?" said Ugolini.

"We must talk about that," said Daoud. "Even though, in spite of this good kaviyeh, my body screams for rest." He drained the cup, put it down, and stretched his arms. With difficulty he brought his anger under control. He must win Ugolini, not turn him into an enemy.

Ugolini had sat down in the high-backed chair behind his work table. His slender fingers restlessly polished the dome of the skull with the diagram painted on its cranium that lay before him. He looked as gloomy as if he were contemplating the day when he himself would be reduced to bones. Lorenzo quietly got up and poured himself another cup of kaviyeh.

Daoud turned to Sophia. "How do you think de Gobignon feels[306] toward you?" He hated to ask the question. He watched her face closely. What he really wanted to know was how she felt about de Gobignon.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded. Even with Hashishiyya-trained senses, he could not guess what was behind that damnably unrevealing mask.

"I think I persuaded him that the cardinal's niece neither knows nor cares anything about alliances and crusades. I—believe he could come to love me."

Rage throbbed in his temples. What, in his sheltered existence, could the young count have learned of love?

"Love you? Unlikely," Daoud challenged her.

He saw with quick regret that he had hurt her feelings. She recoiled as if struck.

"Do you not think me worthy of a nobleman's love?"

Daoud crossed the room in three quick steps and stood over her. "Such pampered creatures as he are not capable of love."

The mask was back. She shrugged.

"Love or lust, he is drawn to me. Do you mean to make some use of it?"

"Send him a note by one of the cardinal's servants asking him to meet with you in a few days' time." Daoud turned and walked to the celestial globe beside Ugolini's table and spun it absently as he studied Sophia. "Let him pick the place, so he feels secure."

Again he had a glimpse through the mask. Her eyes widened in fear. She thought he meant to kill de Gobignon. That angered him. Did she care so much for the Frenchman, then, that his possible death made her lose her composure?

To Daoud's surprise, Ugolini jumped from his chair and advanced on him, shaking his finger and crying, "All of France will be down on us like an avalanche if you harm that boy."

Daoud checked an impulse to laugh. Ugolini was such a comical figure in the flapping white robe he had donned on returning to his mansion.

To Daoud, who had lived most of his life among men for whom death was as common as fear was rare, the little man's tendency to panic seemed contemptible. But, anew, he reminded himself that he needed Ugolini and must treat him with respect.

"Please, Your Eminence," he said. "If I meant to have de Gobignon killed, I would not involve Sophia. I want her to tell him[307] what we are supposedly doing. I hope to create conflict among the supporters of the alliance."

"But Sophia takes a great risk meeting with him," said Ugolini. "What if de Gobignon attempts to force the truth out of her?"

The thought of de Gobignon laying violent hands on Sophia angered Daoud, and he spoke impulsively.

"Then I will kill him."

"God help us!" Ugolini went back to his work table and sat down behind it, his hands over his face.

At once Daoud regretted what he had said. But was there no way to instill courage into this man?

"There is much work for you to do, Cardinal," he said. "You must not falter now."

"Then let there be no more talk of killing," said Ugolini fiercely, taking his hands from his face.

Daoud poured himself another cup of kaviyeh and stood looking down at Ugolini.

"With so much at stake, surely you know I would not do anything rash."

"You need not think of doing anything," Ugolini said, a plea in his eyes. "As long as the pope delays his decision about the Tartars, your people are safe."

True enough, Daoud thought. Delay was a large part of his mission. But, despite what Ugolini might think, it was not enough. For the safety of Islam, an alliance between Tartars and Christians must be made impossible.

"Your Eminence, will it please you to visit the cardinals who heard the Tartars condemn themselves last night?" He tried not to make it sound like an order.

"I see no need for that," said Ugolini.

Of course, Daoud thought. The little cardinal's mind was so full of fear that he could not see at all.

"But I am hoping that you can organize a delegation of cardinals to go to the pope and urge him to give up the idea of an alliance with the Tartars. After all, you are the cardinal camerlengo. Your word has weight."

Ugolini made a bridge of his interlaced fingers and rested his forehead against them, as if his head ached.

"I have attacked the Tartars at the pope's council." He spoke down at his table, barely loud enough for Daoud to hear him. "I have introduced you into the highest circles in Orvieto. I have let[308] you recruit criminals and instigate riots while you live in my mansion. I hear you plotting murder." He looked up suddenly, wild-eyed. "Basta! Enough!"

Despair made Daoud feel weak. He knew this sick feeling came partly from being awake all night, poisoning himself with al-koahl, and nearly getting himself murdered. He told himself it did not matter how he felt. He was Sufi-trained, and could control his feelings. He was a Mameluke, and must remain on the attack.

But he chose not to meet Ugolini's refusal directly.

"I also hope that you will be able to persuade Fra Tomasso d'Aquino to write an open letter, to the pope or to the King of France, denouncing the Tartars. Copies of the letter can be circulated to men of influence throughout Christendom."

Ugolini shook his head, whiskers fluttering. "Fra Tomasso is neutral and wants to stay that way."

But if I can, I intend to push Fra Tomasso away from his neutrality.

"Surely he could not have failed to be moved by what he heard last night," said Daoud. "I could see that he was."

"It will take more than one incident to move Fra Tomasso," said Ugolini.

Now I have him! Daoud glanced at Lorenzo, who nodded encouragingly.

Daoud leaned forward, pressing both hands on the table. "There! You yourself have said the very thing I have been trying to tell you. Last night was just one incident. It was not enough to move Fra Tomasso or the cardinals or the pope. We must do more. You can accomplish everything we want by persuasion and cunning and subterfuge. If you do, I will never have to put my hand to my dagger, and you will have nothing to fear." He shook his open hand at Ugolini. "Take the lead yourself."

Ugolini sat staring at the skull while Daoud held his breath.

The little cardinal pulled at his whiskers and looked up at Daoud. "What must I do?"

Daoud let his breath out. Strength surged back into his body, and despair fled before it.

"Tell me," he said, "if Fra Tomasso were to turn against the Tartars, what do you think the Franks would do about it?"

Ugolini frowned. "I think that then the only way to reach him would be through the Dominicans. If his superiors commanded him[309] to change his opinion on the Tartars, or to be silent, he would have to obey."

"And who, of the alliance's chief supporters, would speak to the Dominican order for the French?" Daoud pressed.

"Count Simon lacks the authority," Ugolini said. "Friar Mathieu is eloquent and knows the Tartars well, but I cannot imagine that the chief Dominicans would pay any attention to an ordinary Franciscan priest."

"What of de Verceuil?" Daoud asked.

Ugolini nodded. "As a cardinal, de Verceuil can speak as an equal to the head of the Dominican order."

"Good," said Daoud. "That is what I hoped you would tell me." He turned away from Ugolini. He had accomplished as much as he could for the moment. Exhaustion struck him like a mace on the back of his head.

"Lorenzo, when you meet that bravo Sordello, tell him that I have decided he and the three with him can join us. I am going to bed."

"I have a bad feeling about him," said Lorenzo.

Daoud paused to consider this. It was precisely for such advice that he needed Lorenzo.

He put his hand on Lorenzo's shoulder. "If he is spying on us, we need to know who sought to place him in our camp. Let him feel he is secure with us. Then start keeping a close watch on him. See to whom he leads us."

Daoud turned