The Saracen: Land of the Infidel

by Robert Shea

  XL

  Daoud's hands were cold and his heart was racing. He had been waitingall morning for Ugolini to come back from the Dominican convent.

  He sat at Ugolini's worktable, trying to read. He had found an old bookin Arabic in Ugolini's library, the _Aphorisms_ of ibn Zaina, a bookSaadi had often praised. At another time he would have devoured it, buthis mind refused to follow the words. Sending Ugolini to Fra Tomasso washis final effort to learn what had gone wrong and to see what might besaved.

  What would Fra Tomasso say to Ugolini? At least Ugolini could be trustednot to make things worse, as de Verceuil had for their opponents.

  This was the Christian month of February, and the chill that pervadedDaoud's body came from the air around him as well as from his troubledspirit. The small wood fire that burned on the hearth beside the tabledid little to dispel the cold in the room.

  In the two months that followed the coming of the bloodstained altarcloth to Orvieto, Tomasso d'Aquino had gradually, but completely,reversed himself. According to a Dominican in Ugolini's pay, thephilosopher had sent new letters to the European kings confessing thathis opposition to an alliance between Christians and Tartars had been anerror. At least three Italian cardinals had told Ugolini that FraTomasso had come to them personally with the same message. CardinalGratiano Marchetti whispered that Pope Urban, who did not expect to livethrough the winter, had promised the stout friar a voice in the electionof the next pope. Where Urban had been neutral toward the alliance,perhaps even opposed, something now caused him to favor it. Just as thetumbling of a single grain of sand could bring a whole dune crashingdown to bury a caravan, so those drops of blood at Bolsena had been thestart of an avalanche of reversals.

  Daoud awaited Ugolini's coming, and the message he bore, as a manaccused of a capital crime awaits the verdict of his judge.

  And if it was true that Fra Tomasso had irrevocably turned against them?Daoud must begin all over again with a new plan to stop the alliance.

  The fire gave off the sour odor of strange substances Ugolini hadpreviously burned on the hearth. Daoud pushed himself out of thecardinal's chair and went to get a breath of fresh air. He opened thecasement window and saw Ugolini's sedan chair, borne by four servants,turning in toward the door of the mansion.

  The cardinal's chair passed the shop across the street, where rows oflarge and small pots, brightly painted with floral designs, were laidout on a large blanket. The potter and his wife, bundled up in heavycloaks, were calling out for the cardinal's blessing. Daoud saw a tinyhand emerge from the curtains of the sedan chair, closed against theFebruary cold. The hand shaped the sign of the cross in the air as theshopkeepers fell to their knees.

  Daoud wondered whether the potter and his wife felt they had an unluckyspot to offer their wares. That was where, last August, de Verceuil'sarchers had shot down two men in the crowd when the Tartars wereentering the city. And it was in front of that shop, shuttered then forthe night, that Alain de Pirenne's body had been found. Had theshopkeeper or his wife seen anything, and were they keeping silent onlyout of fear? Months had gone by, but the podesta, d'Ucello, was stillinvestigating the killing, questioning and requestioning everyone whomight know something about it.

  Daoud paced the room anxiously until Ugolini came in, throwing hisfur-trimmed cape and his wide-brimmed red hat to a servant. He sat downin the chair Daoud had been using. Daoud closed the door.

  As a man dying of thirst begs for water, Daoud prayed for good news.

  But Ugolini's pale face, haggard eyes, and downturned mouth told adifferent tale. Daoud's heart plunged into despair.

  "Has he turned against us?" He hated the note of pleading he heard inhis voice.

  Ugolini went to his worktable, sighed, and sat down heavily. His eyesseemed to be crossed, staring down his pointed nose at the painted skullthat grinned back at him. His restless fingers found the dioptra lyingon the table, and he started to roll the brass tube in his hand.

  "I used every argument I could think of," he said. "I even repeated backto him the arguments he used in the letters and sermons he wrote againstthe Tartars."

  "Arguing with Fra Tomasso is like trying wrestle a djinn," Daoud said."I admire your courage in even trying."

  Ugolini raised a finger. "I thought I was getting somewhere with him. Hekept trying to change the subject. He kept asking me, if the earth moveswhile the sun stands still--he seems to be convinced that is whathappens--then what path does the earth follow? I told him that theGreeks"--he stopped and stared at Daoud--"Oh, never mind the Greeks. Thepoint is, he was mocking me."

  "Mocking you?"

  "Yes, talking about the heavenly bodies. He was referring to that scrollyou gave me to present to him, that work of Aristotle. What a waste,giving that to him. What would I not give to have it myself."

  "Why did he keep changing the subject? Did he never tell you where hestands on the alliance?"

  Ugolini closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes, finally. He said he made agrave mistake opposing the alliance. He said that if Christians do notseize this chance, the Tartars may be converted to the religion ofMohammed, as those in Russia already have been, which would be the worstof all possible disasters." He opened his eyes and looked at Daoud. "Wehave lost him."

  "Is there nothing we can do to change his mind?"

  "I truly believe it is hopeless."

  Hearing those words, Daoud felt drained. He sagged against the wall ofUgolini's cabinet, wanting to sit on the floor but unable to do sobecause then he could not see the cardinal.

  "It is Urban who has done this to us," said Ugolini. "He must havedecided that supporting the alliance is the only way he can get Frenchhelp against King Manfred. He tempted Fra Tomasso with something farmore valuable to him than an old scroll. He offered him greater gloryand power in the Church."

  The Angel of Death, thought Daoud, had done it. Feeling himself mortallyill, the pope had realized he could no longer bargain with the King ofFrance on an equal basis. He would have to offer Louis what he wanted,permission to ally himself with the Tartars.

  "Will the pope now support the alliance openly?" If Daoud chose tofight, he thought, he would have to strike hard and fast. He would haveto strike at the Tartars.

  Despite the downward turn of his fortunes, Daoud felt a strangelightness of heart as he considered the prospect. He had tried everyother way of preventing Tartars and Christians from forming analliance--persuasion, bribery, the spreading of lies.

  Now he could turn to the way he was best at. War.

  "Urban will not come out for the alliance at once," said Ugolini."Before Bolsena, Fra Tomasso and my Italian colleagues in the SacredCollege stirred up so much feeling against the Tartars that Urban wouldlose support all over Europe if he were to call now for a pact betweenChristians and Tartars. So he must move slowly, with Fra Tomasso nowworking with him, winning approval for the alliance."

  "What if the French sent an army to him now?" Daoud asked.

  Ugolini laughed. "Do you think King Louis of France can sow dragon'steeth and have an army spring up in his fields overnight? He would haveto summon the great barons of France. They would have to decide whetherthey support his cause, then assemble the lesser barons and knights.Supplies must be gathered, money found to pay the knights andmen-at-arms. It can take years to raise an army big enough to wage awar."

  _The Mamelukes would be ready to ride in a day._

  _How had the crusaders managed to make any inroads at all in the Daral-Islam?_

  "If the pope is not ready to declare for the alliance, there is time,"said Daoud. "Nothing is settled yet."

  "Time for what? What will you do now?"

  He pushed himself away from the wall, went to a mullioned window, andpulled open one of the casements. To the northwest a tower of orangebrick with square battlements looked arrogantly down upon the huddledmasses of peaked red roofs. From the tower fluttered the orange andgreen banner of the Monaldeschi. There the Tartars were.

  He turned fro
m the window and moved slowly toward Ugolini's table.

  "I am sorry," he said as gently as he could. "This is not ended."

  Ugolini had been playing with the dioptra. He dropped it with a clank.

  "What do you mean?" Fear made his voice shrill and quavering.

  "I mean, I must attack the Palazzo Monaldeschi."

  "Attack the Monaldeschi!" It was almost a scream.

  Daoud spread his hands. "I have no choice."

  Ugolini sprang to his feet. "Pazzia! You are mad!"

  _It is you who are almost mad, with terror_, Daoud thought. He was goingto have trouble with Ugolini, no question.

  Aloud he said only, "We will discuss it. You can help us plan. Pardonme, Your Eminence, while I send for Lorenzo."

  * * * * *

  "It will have to be late at night, of course," said Lorenzo. "And Iwould think a Friday evening would be best, when the men-at-arms will beoff their guard and many of them out carousing. But it finally dependson when Marco di Filippeschi says his family's men can be ready. Theyneed to buy weapons."

  Daoud and Lorenzo stood by the cardinal's table while Ugolini paced withmany short steps between the windows and the hearth. He muttered tohimself, and his hands trembled as he ran them through his tufts ofwhite hair.

  "What of our men?" said Daoud.

  "We have over two hundred now, scattered throughout the city," saidLorenzo.

  _If I could be in the palazzo before the fighting begins ..._

  Ugolini stopped his pacing and faced them. "You talk like moonstruckmen! You would unleash a civil war right here in Orvieto?"

  "Not us, Your Eminence," said Lorenzo. "Have not these two families beenfighting for generations?"

  "What is your objection?" said Daoud gently.

  Ugolini fixed them with a ferocious glare. "For six months, half a year,I have lain awake imagining arrest, disgrace, torture, execution.Through miracles you have managed to carry out your plans without beingcaught. Now you want to launch still wilder plans--incredible, fantasticthings. I have had enough. God has kept me alive this long. I will nottempt Him further."

  "My dear Cardinal," Daoud said, "once the Tartars are dead, this willall be over. I will go back to Egypt. Lorenzo and Sophia will return toManfred's kingdom. You will have nothing further to fear."

  "You could have tried to kill the Tartars at any time since they camehere," said Ugolini. "Why now?"

  "I needed to create as much ill will as possible between Christians andTartars," said Daoud. "If I had killed the Tartars at once, I could nothave had them discredit themselves out of their own mouths. Fra Tomassoand your colleagues among the Italian cardinals could not have stirredup so much fear and hatred toward them. Now, though, I have done all Ican along those lines, and Fra Tomasso is already undoing what togetherwe have accomplished."

  "And why involve the Monaldeschi and the Filippeschi?" Ugolini pressedhim.

  "To make it seem that the Tartars have been killed by feuding Italians.Then Hulagu Khan will think again about whether he wants such people ashis allies."

  Ugolini shook his head. "I do not have to tell you, of all people, whatwar is like. And I think Messer Lorenzo, by the way he carries himself,has known battle more than once. You both know that chance rules everymoment in war."

  "True," said Daoud.

  And if chance decided against them? For a moment he saw Sophia naked,being torn apart by the torturers' pincers. He almost shuddered, and hadto hold himself rigid.

  "I take it you intend to be part of this attack on the Monaldeschi,"Ugolini went on.

  "I do," said Daoud.

  Ugolini threw up his hands as if Daoud had already proved his case forhim. "Well then, what if someone recognizes you attacking the palace?"

  "I will not openly lead. I will enter the palace and kill the Tartars."

  "So," said Ugolini. "You will not just be somewhere in the streetoutside the Palazzo Monaldeschi. You will be _in the palace_. In themidst of all your enemies. Alone. Attempting to assassinate the Tartars.Tell me, does that sound like the plan of a reasonable, cautious man toyou?"

  Daoud thought it sounded as if he were, to put it as Ugolini had,tempting God. But Ugolini did not understand that Daoud had not only theskills of Mameluke, but had also received the secret training of theHashishiyya fighters, the fedawi, whose powers many in the lands ofIslam thought magical.

  "I will be masked. I will be dressed in garments that will make italmost impossible to see me. I will not expose myself. I will move indarkness. I have been trained to find my way in darkness as surely as ifit were sunlight."

  Ugolini shook his head. "Understand me. I would not go on arguing withyou like this did I not feel I am arguing for my life. And Tilia's, andthe lives of those who depend on you. You must admit that you might becaptured or killed. My house guest, found trying to murder the Tartarambassadors."

  Daoud spread his hands. "You would then denounce me. You say you neverknew what a demon you had taken into your home."

  Ugolini laughed loudly and bitterly. "Are our opponents fools? Do youreally think they would believe me, even for a moment? After perhapshundreds of people have been killed, after a civil war in Orvieto,anyone who is even suspect will die. The Monaldeschi, the French, theChurch authorities, all will take their revenge. Surely you understandthat."

  Daoud's heart grew cold as he looked along the road Ugolini wasdescribing and saw defeat, massacre, the hideous deaths of his comrades,and beyond that iron waves of crusaders and endless columns of Tartarhorsemen sweeping over the Dar al-Islam. And he could not look intoUgolini's eyes and declare that all would turn out well.

  But what would happen if he did nothing? He looked down that path andsaw the same masses of crusaders and Tartars, saw the burning mosques,the emptied cities, the heaps of corpses. He saw the Gray Mosque in ElKahira ruined, his teacher Saadi hacked to pieces by crusader swords.

  Then he heard words Saadi had spoken: _We are God's instruments, bywhich He brings about that which He wills. The fool does nothing andleaves the outcome to God. The ordinary man acts and prays that God willgrant a good result. The wise man acts and leaves the outcome to God._

  He would act.

  He turned to Lorenzo, standing near him by the cardinal's table.

  "Your life is at stake in this. What do you think?"

  Lorenzo's face was as grave as Daoud had ever seen it. "If theFilippeschi attack the Palazzo Monaldeschi, they will be driven off. Butwith more than five hundred men attacking the palace, it will beimpossible for the French to guard the Tartars adequately. If you getin, kill them, and get out safely, I think we can hide our part in thefighting. If you are caught or killed, I think it is as the cardinalsays. We are all doomed."

  "Exactly!" cried Ugolini from where he stood behind his table. "Then whyrisk it?"

  "Because we must," Lorenzo said to him. "If we do not stop the allianceby force, the pope will strike a bargain with the King of France. Therewill be a French army marching against my King Manfred, and after thatcrusaders and Tartars will fall upon Messer David's people."

  Ugolini uttered a deep groan and sank into his chair.

  Relief swept over Daoud. He had already decided to make the attempt onthe Palazzo Monaldeschi even if Lorenzo opposed it, but to have Lorenzoside with him gave him more confidence that he could carry it off.

  Lorenzo turned those somber eyes to him again. "It all depends on you. Iam gambling that you can do it."

  Daoud felt a powerful warmth toward the Sicilian. There were times whenhe had wished Lorenzo were not with him, times when he distrusted him.The foolishness of involving them with Rachel and her husband. The factthat Lorenzo was a Jew who had abandoned his religion. Even his dog wasa nuisance. But at this moment to have Lorenzo's support made him feelas strong and confident as if the Mameluke orta he commanded hadsuddenly appeared in Orvieto.

  He grinned at Lorenzo. "You proved how good a gambler you are by losingto de Verceuil."

/>   Lorenzo chuckled. "What must we do first?"

  Daoud said, "Arrange for me to meet secretly with Marco di Filippeschi.And send word to King Manfred that the pope and the French are about toreach agreement on the Tartar alliance, and when they do the French willcome pouring into Italy. Tell him now is the time for his Ghibellinoallies in the north to march on Orvieto."

  Lorenzo nodded. "I will send one of my men to Lucera." He shook hishead. "My God, how I wish I could go myself!"

  "Once the Tartars are dead," Daoud said, "we will all go home. Now, findSordello and send him to my room."

  As Daoud left Ugolini's cabinet, he glanced back to see the littlecardinal slumped over the table, knotting his fingers in his fuzzy whitehair. He would have to spend more time with him, to build up hiscourage.

  * * * * *

  Sophia was standing in the hallway when Daoud emerged from his room thatnight, on his way to meet with the Filippeschi chieftain. He was notsurprised to see her. Someone, Ugolini or Lorenzo, would have told herabout his new plan. He beckoned her into his room and closed the door.

  Each time the thought of defeat arose in his mind, he had felt thegreatest anguish over what it would mean for Sophia. That forced him toadmit to himself how much he cared for her. Now that he looked into heramber eyes and told her what he intended to do, the pain he felt wassharper than ever. He wanted to persuade her that she had nothing tofear. But he knew that would be a lie.

  He tried to keep what he said simple, practical. "You, like Sordello,will bear witness that Lorenzo and I had gone to Perugia while theMonaldeschi palazzo was under siege. Lorenzo has allies in Perugia whowill confirm that."

  Sophia stared at him with wide, solemn eyes. "You are riskingeverything." She reached out and seized his hand, gripping it urgently."If they find out who you are while you are in the Monaldeschi palace,it will be the end for all of us."

  He felt the strength in her fingers, the softness of her palm, andwanted to take her in his arms, but he held himself in check. Therecould be nothing between them as long as de Gobignon was alive.

  "I know a hundred ways to get into a castle and out again," he said,wishing there had been time to share with her more of his life. "Once Iam inside, I will search out and kill the two Tartars while all thearmed men are occupied with the fighting outside. And then I willleave." He spread his hands to show how easy it would be.

  Inwardly he was ashamed. He was preparing to sacrifice this woman'slife, knowing that she might die a terrible death--rape, torture,mutilation, public execution. How could he face her at all? That he hadmade his decision in order to save hundreds of thousands of his peoplefrom slaughter, his faith from destruction, was no comfort at thismoment alone with Sophia.

  "Will you fight Simon?"

  He felt his blood go hot. That she should think at all of de Gobignon atthis moment rather than of herself--or of him--made him so angry heforgot for a moment his own guilt and fear for her life.

  "The young count will probably be leading the fight on the battlements."Daoud tasted the venom in what he was about to say, but he could nothelp himself. "It will be quite a shock when he finds the Tartars deadand realizes how he has failed."

  Sophia stood breathing hard, her eyes glistening with tears. "If onlyyou were not--"

  Daoud was already wishing he had not spoken so to her. "Not what?"

  "Not blind!" she cried.

  She turned swiftly and reached for the door handle. But Daoud could notlet her go. He was there before her, and he faced her and seized herhand.

  "I am not blind," he rasped. "I see that pretending to be what you arenot is tearing you apart. I wish we could be our true selves with eachother--"

  "We cannot," she said bitterly. "And to speak of it only makes it hurtmore. Let me go."

  He relaxed his grip on her hand, and she was gone.

  _Some day_, he thought. _Some day, Sophia._

  Looking at the closed door, Daoud felt an almost unbearable inner pain.He had thrust her at Simon. He had lashed out at her, hurt her unjustly.Having done that to her, he was about to put her in far worse danger.

  How could he claim, even in the secrecy of his own heart, that he lovedher?

  * * * * *

  Daoud could barely see Marco di Filippeschi in the darkness. Moonlighttouched the gold medallion that hung from Marco's neck and on the silverbadge in his cap. For the rest he was a figure carved out of shadow.Despite the full moon, this narrow alleyway between a stone house andthe city wall was almost as black as the bottom of a well.

  Daoud's Hashishiyya-trained senses needed no light to see by. He hadlearned to see with his ears as well as with his sense of smell. Hecould sense what weapons Marco di Filippeschi was wearing--a shortswordand two daggers at his belt, and, from the difference in footfalls, athird dagger in a sheath in his right boot. He knew the position ofMarco's hands, and he knew that Marco had told the truth when he said hehad come to this rendezvous alone.

  Lorenzo had assured him that Marco would leap like a hungry wolf at anychance to avenge himself on the Monaldeschi. But Daoud wondered, wouldthe volatile young clan chieftain really be willing to undertake anattack on the Monaldeschi that had more chance of failing thansucceeding?

  "I can offer you over two hundred lusty bravos collected by one who isknown to you," Daoud said. Hoping to make Marco a little less certainabout who his ultimate benefactor was, he avoided naming Giancarlo.Marco could destroy Daoud and all his comrades by revealing the identityof the man who had incited his attack on the Monaldeschi. If he werecaptured and tortured, strong and fierce though he might be, it waslikely he would tell everything.

  Daoud reached into the purse at his belt, where he had earlier put twoemeralds. He held them out in his open palm so that the moonlightglistened on their polished surfaces.

  "Please accept these as a gift," he said. "If you decide to assault thePalazzo Monaldeschi, your preparations will be costly."

  The jewels must be called a gift. The capo della famiglia Filippeschiwas not a man you paid to do your work for you.

  Marco's hand closed around the emeralds, and his other hand seizedDaoud's forearm.

  "I shall spend this on weapons," he said. "Crossbows to kill moreMonaldeschi. Stone guns to batter down their walls. I care not whatprice I must pay."

  _That is good_, thought Daoud, _because the price may be very high_.

  "I will need until spring," Marco continued. "It will take that long tobuy the weapons. I must work slowly and quietly so the old vulture doesnot get wind of what I am doing."

  "The Monaldeschi are collaborating with this French pope and his Frenchcardinals," Daoud said to spur Marco on. "And the French party is aboutto invite an army under Charles of Anjou into Italy."

  "Damn the French!" said Marco. "And damn that putana and her family forworking with them."

  "Also, as everyone knows," Daoud said, "the pope has not long to live.Strike a blow now for Italy, and you will frighten the cardinals at atime when they will soon be choosing the next pope. So your attack hadbetter come no later than spring."

  "We Filippeschi are as loyal to the papacy as the Monaldeschi. Perhapsmore."

  "My master, whom I prefer not to name," said Daoud, knowing that Marcowould think he meant King Manfred, "does not wish to see the pope inleague with the French."

  "This war of Guelfi and Ghibellini leaves us prey to every French andGerman ladrone who wants to come down and loot our country," said Marco.Obviously he had no great love for the Hohenstaufens, either.

  "How will you start the fighting?" Daoud asked him.

  "Two or three of my cousins will take a walk in the piazza before thePalazzo Monaldeschi on a Friday evening, when everybody strolls," Marcosaid. "If their mere presence in that part of the city does not cause anincident, they will step on a few toes."

  "It will take some courage to go into the lion's den," Daoud remarked.

  The young Filippeschi chieftain la
ughed ruefully. "We possess more ofcourage than we do of anything else."

  If they did not also possess some prudence and the ability to keep asecret, Daoud thought, everything was lost.