The Saracen: The Holy War

by Robert Shea

  L

  The sky was iron-gray, and a cold wind, unseasonably cold for August,blew down from the north. Daoud stood near the entrance to the courtyardof the Palazzo Papale, facing a row of the podesta's guards, in yellowand blue, who held back the watching crowd. A troop of mounted lancersclattered out under the gateway arch. Then, in mule-borne litters, camethe nine cardinals who had elected to go with the pope to Perugia. Eachhad his own small procession of clergy and guards. In a sedan chairborne by six burly men rode Fra Tomasso d'Aquino, reading a smallleather-bound book. Then came a hundred mounted archers, their conicalhelmets gleaming dully under the overcast sky.

  Finally, as the people threw themselves to their knees, some crying outand stretching their arms wide, Urban himself, on a litter carried byeight men-at-arms, with a column of priests on either side, came throughthe open gate of the palace. He wore white gloves on the trembling handsthat he raised to bless the people. He was bundled up in a white woolcloak, and his head was covered by a hood of fur so white that it madehis own hair and his beard look yellowish.

  Reluctantly, but knowing it would be dangerous not to do so, Daouddropped to his knees as Urban passed him.

  "Do not leave us, Holy Father!" a man next to him cried out.

  Daoud thought of the whispers he had been hearing in his wanderingsthrough the streets and marketplaces. People were frightened. Some saidthat terrible things would happen after Urban left. There would be newbloodshed between the Monaldeschi and the Filippeschi. The Sienese wouldbesiege Orvieto and massacre its people.

  Daoud himself believed d'Ucello, the podesta, would use the pope'sdeparture to try to increase his own power over the city.

  _And that bodes ill for me._

  The podesta was a clever man. Daoud felt certain d'Ucello suspected himof the killing of the French knight and of involvement in theFilippeschi uprising.

  Daoud followed the procession along the curving street to the PortaMaggiore, intending to watch it follow the road to the north, wishingthe Sienese army might appear suddenly in the distance and intercept it.But at the gate a sergente in yellow and blue stepped into his path.

  "I am not leaving," Daoud said, staring at the man. "I want to standjust outside the gate."

  The sergente shrugged. He was a broad-shouldered man with a square brownface and a mustache cut straight across. As they stood talking, hedarted little glances at Daoud's hands and feet, half smiling. Daoudsensed that he was ready for a fight, perhaps even wanted one. Thesergente thought, of course, that he was dealing with a merchant, whowould not be as skilled in combat as a professional soldier.

  Daoud felt a chill along his spine. D'Ucello was still determined tokeep him prisoner in Orvieto. That confirmed Daoud's suspicions that thepodesta might soon move against him.

  "You can watch the procession from the top of the wall," the podesta'sman said. "The view is better from up there anyway. You may not gobeyond the gate, Messer David."

  Angered by the feeling of confinement, Daoud thought about throwing theguard, disarming him, and walking through the gate just to teach him alesson. But that was hardly what a trader would do. That would onlybring more suspicion down on him. He nodded curtly and walked away.

  * * * * *

  The following Sunday, Daoud stood at the front of the cathedral,reluctantly hearing Mass, bodies pressing him from all sides. Four ofUgolini's men-at-arms, including the massive Riccardo, stood with Daoud.The little cardinal, required by the etiquette of the Sacred College toattend but made fearful by the rumors of fighting and killing to come,had begged Daoud to come with him and stay near him. The noonday heattogether with the heat of packed human flesh turned the interior of thecathedral into an oven. The reek of sweat mixed with the heavy smell ofincense rendered the air almost unbreathable.

  A gilded screen standing on the altar displayed the miraculous linencloth of Bolsena, lighted candles massed around it. The pope, at least,had left that to Orvieto. Ugolini was one of six red-robed cardinals,half hidden under their huge, circular red hats, who sat in chairs in arow before the altar. Each one had a cluster of assistants and guardsbehind him. Cardinal de Verceuil was among them. Daoud recognized himfrom the rear because he was the tallest of the six.

  That meant the Tartars were still in Orvieto. If Lorenzo and theGhibellino army from Siena arrived in time, there would be a chance tokill the Tartars before they rejoined the pope in Perugia. It wasmaddening, not knowing what Lorenzo had accomplished or where he was.This was one time he wished Christian armies could move with the speedand decisiveness of Muslims. Or Tartars.

  The elderly Cardinal Piacenza, his arms supported by priest-assistants,held up the gold cup of wine which Christians believed, in a sense thatDaoud had never been able to understand, to be the blood of Jesus theMessiah. The cathedral was filled with a reverent quiet.

  A burst of angry men's voices from the rear of the cathedral broke thesilence. Shouts echoed against the heavy stone walls. Daoud heard thuds,scuffling, the clash of steel. A jolt of alarm went through him, and hishand went to his sword.

  Everyone, including Piacenza, turned to stare. The last time there hadbeen a clash of arms in the cathedral it had been the Count de Gobignonand that heretic preacher, Daoud thought.

  Daoud was amazed that Christians would interrupt the most sacred momentof their Mass. He tried to see over the heads of the people around him.One voice, roaring in protest, was raised over the others. It soundedfamiliar to Daoud.

  People were passing word back from the middle of the nave, where thestruggle was. "It is Marco di Filippeschi," a man near Daoud cried."They have come to kill him."

  Daoud's body went cold. Might whoever was coming after Marco attack himtoo?

  The fighting seemed to be moving toward the doors, and the crowd flowedafter it. Mass was forgotten as the congregation, cardinals and bishopsincluded, rushed to see.

  Ugolini hurried to Daoud and took his arm. The two of them were carriedwith the crowd toward the rear of the cathedral. Ugolini clutched atDaoud so tightly that his fingers hurt. The servants, Daoud noticed,managed to stay with them.

  "Stay close to me," Ugolini said.

  "You might be safer in the cathedral," said Daoud.

  "Outside there is more room to run."

  The short-legged Ugolini could not run very far, thought Daoud. Hesteeled himself. If they were attacked by a large number of enemies,they were dead men.

  Daoud and Ugolini came through the main door of the cathedral togetherand stood on the crowded steps.

  "I cannot see!" Ugolini cried. People on the steps below him wereblocking his view.

  Daoud was tall enough to see quite well. His heart, beating rapidly,seemed to be rising from his chest to his throat. Marco di Filippeschi,his long black hair flying as he jerked his body from side to side, wasstruggling with four men who held him, while a fifth wrapped a ropearound his arms. Other men used pikes to push back the crowd, forming aring of space around the young Filippeschi leader and his captors.

  _Marco is going to die_, Daoud thought, feeling cold sweat all over hisskin.

  He looked to the edges of the piazza and the mansions that overlookedit. He saw crossbowmen in the orange and green livery of the Monaldeschion rooftops and in windows, and mounted lancers in the outlets to thesquare.

  _The Filippeschi should have missed Mass today._

  "God damn your puzzolenti souls, you bastards!" Marco roared as hefought. "May your mothers and fathers burn in Hell!"

  Some men were trying to help Marco; Daoud saw little knots of struggleas his eyes traveled over the crowd. But no one could reach Marcobecause the orange Monaldeschi tunics were everywhere.

  "What is _happening_?" Ugolini demanded.

  "They are killing Marco di Filippeschi," said Daoud, thinking: _Hehelped me. He needs help now._ His hand gripped the hilt of his swordtightly, and he wanted to draw it and rush down the stairs to fightbeside Marco.

  But the knowledge that anyone w
ho went to Marco's aid would die with himheld him motionless. Daoud was not free to draw his sword for Marco, notwhile the Tartar ambassadors lived and the pope might yet proclaim a newcrusade.

  Marco was shouting obscenities so rapidly that Daoud's Italian failedhim and he could not understand. The Filippeschi chieftain was tightlybound and helpless, and the men around him pushed him to his knees.

  _God be merciful to him_, Daoud prayed.

  "Lift me up so I can see!" Ugolini cried to his men-at-arms.

  "You do not want to see," said Daoud, but Riccardo obediently hoistedhim up to sit on his shoulders. The cardinal looked ridiculous, Daoudthought, like an overdressed child being carried by his father.

  A man holding a long two-handed sword stepped out of the empty spacesurrounding Marco di Filippeschi. Daoud drew in a breath. The crowdgasped. The blade flashed in the sun like a mirror as he swung it up.Marco struggled, shouting curses, twisting and thrashing to escape thesword. Blood splashed over the gray-black paving stones as the swordcame down. Marco cried out in agony. It took three strokes to beheadhim.

  As much death as Daoud had seen, this sickened him. He felt bileflooding his stomach and rising in his throat.

  After Marco's head lay apart from his still-trembling body in a rapidlyspreading pool of blood, the silence was shocking in the piazza that hadan instant before rung with his cries. As shocking as the look of thebound body without its head.

  A woman's piercing scream broke the silence. Holding a baby in her arms,she burst out of the ring of men who had cordoned off the beheading. Sheknelt, screaming and sobbing, and reached out with one hand to touchMarco's severed head.

  Another woman ran out of the crowd with a dagger in her hand. Shepounced on the mother and baby and stabbed and stabbed. A pikeman in anorange tunic dragged the baby from its mother's arms, tossed it in theair, and caught it on the end of his pike, spitting it. Some in thecrowd screamed with horror. Others cheered and laughed.

  Daoud's stomach lurched. He pressed his hand against his middle andhoped the mother had not lived to see what had been done to her baby.

  He wanted desperately to be away from there, not just because he himselfmight be in danger, but because he could not stand to watch.

  He looked up at Ugolini. The little cardinal sat rigid on Riccardo'sshoulders, his face white and blank, his whiskers quivering. How foolishhe had been to want to see.

  Not far away, de Verceuil's dark face under his wide-brimmed red hatstood out above the other faces in the crowd on the steps. The littlemouth was set in a satisfied smile. Daoud wished he could slash thatsmug face with his sword.

  Another Monaldeschi man-at-arms set Marco di Filippeschi's head on theend of his pike and waved it in the air for all to see. The mob in thepiazza began to boil. It was a chaos that Daoud's eyes could take inonly piecemeal. Men and women fought with swords and daggers and clubs;masses of people shrieking with terror surged toward the streets leadingoff the piazza where mounted Monaldeschi retainers slashed at them withswords and drove lances into them; crossbowmen fired into the crowdfrom balconies.

  Now Daoud's heart was beating so hard that the booming of his blood inhis ears almost drowned out the noise in the piazza. This was a warbreaking out all around him.

  A continuation, he reminded himself guiltily, of the war he had started.

  No, he need not blame himself. He had not started this. These people hadbeen slaughtering one another long before he came to Orvieto.

  How could the Monaldeschi tell their friends, or the innocent, fromtheir enemies, Daoud wondered. Perhaps, he thought, it did not matter tothem.

  He now made out, on a balcony opposite the cathedral steps, the stoopedfigure of the Contessa di Monaldeschi. Her cloak glittered with goldembroidery, and on her gray hair she wore a small silver coronet. Sherested one hand on the shoulder of a boy, her grandnephew Vittorio.

  _What a monster that child must be!_

  Daoud heard Ugolini's choking whisper from above him: "Get me out ofhere."

  There was only one way to escape, back into the cathedral and out one ofthe side doors. Daoud helped Ugolini down from Riccardo's back, and theyhurried through the center doorway, followed by his men-at-arms.

  "Do not draw your weapons," Daoud said to Riccardo and the others. "Oryou might get pulled into the fighting. But be ready to stand and fightif we must."

  The din of the massacre in the piazza echoed within the cathedral, whichwas now mostly emptied out. Cardinal Piacenza had brought his Mass to aquick end. He was sitting in a chair near the altar, looking stricken,and a young priest was mopping the old cardinal's forehead with a whitecloth. On one side of the nave stood the podesta, d'Ucello, surroundedby a group of his sergentes in yellow and blue.

  _There is murder in the piazza, and the keeper of public order hides inthe cathedral_, Daoud thought.

  The podesta's eyes met Daoud's as Ugolini's retinue hurried past himtoward the rear doors of the cathedral. There was a menace in d'Ucello'sset face, but he said nothing as Daoud strode by.

  The look in d'Ucello's eyes told Daoud that the moment when the podestawould strike at him was not far away. Daoud felt as if a ghost hadgripped the back of his neck with an icy hand.

  Ugolini, muttering to himself, led the way to the north transept. Ahalf-dozen men in orange and green tunics, swords drawn, barred thedoor.

  "Stand aside in the name of God!" Ugolini cried as he approached theMonaldeschi men-at-arms. "Your damned bloody quarrels have nothing to dowith me."

  Daoud was surprised. He had often seen Ugolini frightened, but now fearseemed to have given him sudden strength. The men guarding the doorstepped aside. The cardinal's servants held the door for him, and in amoment they were in the narrow street running along the north side ofthe cathedral, where they joined a crowd of weeping, shouting people whohad managed to break loose from the piazza. There were splashes ofblood, Daoud saw, on the tunics of many men and the dresses of manywomen. Ugolini's servants formed a wedge around him, and in stunnedsilence they walked back to his mansion.

  Daoud felt shaken and sick. His hands were trembling.

  The Filippeschi could have been allies for Daoud against the podesta.Now he was alone.

  Ugolini's small contingent of armed retainers could not resist the townmilitia. A cold feeling of helplessness settled over Daoud. If onlyLorenzo would come back.

  * * * * *

  Bars of afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows of Ugolini'scabinet, giving a fiery tinge to his red rug and glistening in the eyesof his stuffed owl. Ugolini sat behind his table, holding the paintedskull in both hands and staring intently at it, as if it held theexplanation of what had happened at the cathedral this morning. Sophiasat in a chair on the other side of the table, and Daoud stood by thewindow.

  "The Monaldeschi and the Filippeschi are both Guelfo families, and theFilippeschi have high connections with the Church," Ugolini said. "Thatis why the contessa waited until the pope left before taking herrevenge."

  "I have seen Christians slaughter Muslims and Muslims massacreChristians," Daoud said. "But today Christians were killing mothers andinfants that could have been their own. Women were doing some of thekilling."

  Ugolini smiled at the skull, but there was no laughter in his roundeyes. "Are not family quarrels the cruelest of all?"

  Daoud noticed that Ugolini's hands, fingertips pressed against thesmooth curve of the skull's cranium, were still quivering. As for Daoudhimself, he was quite calm now.

  _The last time I was really terrified was when I looked into the locketand saw whirling blackness._

  He was still angry with himself about that, knowing what a foolish thingit had been to partake of hashish when he was already in a dark mood.The fear he had felt a month earlier after taking the drug and lookinginto the locket remained with him, clinging to his mind like someparasitic insect. It rose to confront him now, as he looked at Sophia.Would something horrible happen to her because of him? Blosso
ming Reedhad threatened just that, and so far Blossoming Reed's magic had workedwell. Since that vision, the joy he felt with Sophia had been chilledsomewhat by fear for her.

  "How safe are _we_ now, with the Monaldeschi rampaging through thestreets?" Sophia asked.

  Ugolini shuddered. "And the Filippeschi. Those who are left will bestriking back. This city will destroy itself, like a rat eating its owninnards. I say leave now. All of us."

  _Leave?_ Daoud thought. He would be less afraid for Sophia if she werein a safer place. But where should he go?

  "Where do you want to go?" he asked Ugolini.

  The little cardinal drew himself up. "I am still the cardinalcamerlengo, and will be as long as Urban is alive. I am obliged tofollow the pope as quickly as I can to Perugia. There is peace and orderin Perugia." He looked at Daoud uneasily. "What do _you_ want to do?Stay here?"

  _He is hoping to be rid of me._ Daoud considered Perugia, but there hewould have everything against him and no forces to help him.

  He must go to Manfred. Once the pope and the Tartars were safely inPerugia, only Manfred's army would be powerful enough to get at them.Manfred might not want to go to war, but war was inevitable. Clearly thepope was no longer neutral. He favored the Tartar-Christian alliance andwas waiting only for the right moment to announce it. When the pope cameout for the alliance, the French would come into Italy.

  The time for Manfred to act was now. If he marched north and seized allof Italy, including the person of the pope and as many cardinals as hecould capture, the French never _would_ invade, because a Ghibellinopope would not approve a joint campaign of Christians and Tartarsagainst Muslims. Then, for certain, there would be no alliance.

  "Now that the pope has moved to a place of safety," he said aloud, "onlyKing Manfred can dislodge him."

  Ugolini wrung his hands. "First you incite the Filippeschi against theMonaldeschi. Then Siena against Orvieto. Now Manfred against the PapalStates? Sometimes I think you are like one of the horsemen of theApocalypse, spreading war wherever you go."

  All too true, Daoud thought. He turned to Sophia to see whether sheagreed with the accusation. She looked at him somberly, but did notspeak.

  He sighed. "I am fighting for my people. For my God."

  "I, too, for _my_ people," said Sophia quietly. Her tone told Daoud shesided with him, and he felt an inner warmth.

  "And what have your people to do with this?" Ugolini cried. "Have youforgotten that you are not Sicilian but Greek?"

  "Not at all," said Sophia. "I want to see Manfred in control of Italy.He is a friend of Byzantium. The Franks are our enemies."

  Ugolini shook his head. "I am the only Italian in this room. And I weepfor _my_ people."

  Daoud strode over to Ugolini's table, pressed his hands flat on it, andstared into his eyes.

  "Be _strong_ for your people," he said. The hairs on the back of hisneck rose with excitement as he spoke. He had wanted to try to putstrength into Ugolini for such a long time.

  Ugolini looked bewildered. "What do you mean?"

  "Think what Italy would be with Manfred von Hohenstaufen ruling from theAlps to Sicily and a pope who supports him."

  "A Ghibellino pope?" Ugolini looked surprised, then nodded. "Why not? Asa Ghibellino myself, I would rejoice at that. But it will happen only ifManfred has the College of Cardinals in his power."

  "Yes," said Daoud. "And that is why I must go all the way south toLucera, where Sophia and Lorenzo and I started from." Ugolini's eyeswere brighter, and Daoud felt with pleasure that he had breathed newlife into the little man.

  "But the podesta won't let you leave the city!" Sophia exclaimed.

  Again Daoud felt that cold hand grasp his neck. Perhaps he should haveleft long ago. He turned from Sophia to Ugolini.

  "You must demand that he let me leave, Cardinal," said Daoud, feelingless confident than he tried to sound.

  Or, he thought, he could escape the way Lorenzo did. He had never trulybeen a prisoner here.

  "I will order the servants to start packing for me," Ugolini said. "Ofcourse, I must make arrangements for Tilia to move, too, and that mighttake time. Although many of her best clients are gone now." He soundedlike a man who knew what he was doing and Daoud was relieved to hear it.

  Daoud turned from Ugolini to Sophia. The knowledge that he would soonleave Orvieto, where he had seen too much of defeat and slaughter,lifted his spirits. He smiled at Sophia, and she smiled back. He knewshe was thinking the same thought he was--that they had hours to spendtogether this afternoon.

  * * * * *

  Daoud and Sophia lay naked in her bed, legs entwined, her head restingon his bare chest.

  "What about me?" Sophia asked. "Will I go south with you to Manfred, ornorth to Perugia with Ugolini?"

  "With me, of course," said Daoud. At the mention of leaving her, he feltas if a cold wind had blown across his naked body. He was surprised thatshe was even considering staying with Ugolini.

  "I want to be with you," she said, caressing his chest with a circularmovement of her palm. "I hate the thought of our being apart. But withthe pope and the Tartars in Perugia, you need someone there besidesUgolini. Someone who has an aim in common with yours. I can help him andmake sure that what he does helps you. Helps us."

  He ran his fingers through her long, unbound hair. "I will think aboutwhat you've said. But I do not like it."

  "Neither do I. But it may be necessary."

  A loud knock at Sophia's door interrupted them.

  Something in the urgency of the knock made Daoud spring out of bed andreach for his sword, hanging from a peg on the wall. Putting a finger toher lips, Sophia got out of bed more slowly and went to the door.

  "It is I," the cardinal called through the door in answer to herquestion. "I know David is there with you. Let me in. The podesta ishere."

  The ghost that haunted him whenever he thought of himself and d'Ucelloseized Daoud's entire body in a cold, paralyzing embrace. His firstthought was of escape. But d'Ucello probably had the mansion surrounded.

  Sophia and Daoud dressed quickly and opened the door for the cardinal.

  "D'Ucello has come here with twenty or more men-at-arms," Ugolini said."He demands that you go with him to the Palazzo del Podesta, David."

  "Can you not order him away?" Sophia demanded. "You are a prince of theChurch. You did that before."

  "He waited until most of the power of the Church had left Orvieto," saidUgolini.

  "And until the Filippeschi had been crushed, thinking I might call uponthem for help," Daoud said.

  "You must try to escape," said Sophia.

  "Then what would happen to you?"

  "We will escape together!"

  Daoud looked at her drawn face, and at that moment he loved her morethan ever. His love warmed him, and freed him from the grip of fear.This woman--who had spoken a short time ago so calmly of separation--wasready to run, to dodge arrows, to hide in ditches, to climb walls, to dowhatever she had to, to be near him.

  "If he finds out what you are, we are all doomed," said Ugolini. Daoudsaw that the small body was aquiver with fear.

  He could imagine what Ugolini was thinking, that the evil he had dreadedsince Daoud came to Orvieto had come upon them at last. Just when hethought he was about to escape it.

  "He will learn nothing," said Daoud.

  "He will torture you." Ugolini sat down on Sophia's bed and wrapped hisarms around his stomach. "We will all die horribly--me, Sophia,Tilia--everyone who helped you." He raised hands curved like claws andshook them at Daoud. "Oh, God, how I wish you had never come here!"

  Sophia sat beside Ugolini and put her hand on his knee. "If we can staycalm, dear Eminence, we can think of a way out of this."

  "Even if he tortures me, I will tell him nothing, except that I amDavid, the trader from Trebizond," said Daoud. The methods of resistingpain that he had learned from the Hashishiyya would serve him now.

  "You must not think of g
oing with him!" Sophia cried.

  "It is the only way. If I cooperate, it shows my innocence. The cardinalcan use his influence to get me freed."

  She jumped up and threw herself against him, weeping. "You are going toyour death!" He held her tightly.

  "D'Ucello has nothing to gain by killing me," he said. "And surrenderingto him is the only thing I can do." He looked at Ugolini. "Do youagree?"

  Ugolini sighed and shook his head. "I cannot think."

  Gently Daoud freed himself from Sophia's embrace. "Insh'Allah, Godwilling, I will return to you."

  He turned to the door. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to run,or to draw his sword and try to fight his way out. He cringed inwardlyfrom the thought of imprisonment and torture. He remembered the poormadman whose body they had torn apart with red-hot pincers. He forcedhimself not to tremble. He took the first step toward the door, thenanother.

  _God, make me strong in the face of my enemies._