III
Daoud turned, dragging Celino. A blond man stood, hands on hips, eyeinghim with a faint smile. One of the big doors leading into the royalaudience chamber was slightly ajar. Daoud was angry at himself forletting someone slip up behind him unnoticed.
"Sire, get back!" Lorenzo shouted.
_Sire._ Daoud knew at once who this was. The same height as Lorenzo, asDaoud now saw, the man had the very broad shoulders Christian knightsdeveloped from wielding their huge two-handed swords. Daoud guessed hisage at a little over thirty. His hair, so blond it was almost silver,hung in soft waves below his ears, curling at the ends. His silver-blondmustache was carefully trimmed. His eyelids crinkled with amusement. Hewore a tunic of lime-colored silk under a short forest-green cloaktrimmed with white fur. His hose and boots were also shades of green.From a chain around his neck hung a five-pointed silver star with aspherical ruby in its center. In every point he fit the descriptionDaoud had been given.
The despair Daoud had been feeling a moment before gave way to aprofound relief. It had seemed that everything stood in the way of hismeeting this man, and now at last they were face-to-face.
"Sire," Daoud said in Italian, "I know who you are, and you must knowwho I am."
"I do indeed," said Manfred von Hohenstaufen, still smiling. "Pleaserelease Messer Lorenzo."
Daoud hesitated only a moment. But if Manfred allowed Lorenzo to hurthim now, the mission was a failure anyway. Tensed for attack, he let goof Lorenzo, who sprang away.
In an instant the Sicilian had taken a curving Islamic sword from asoldier.
"Sire, at least move back from him," Lorenzo said. "You know what we aredealing with here."
"Quiet, Lorenzo," snapped Manfred. "What we are dealing with is apeddler from some misty land beyond the Black Sea who happens to beinfernally nimble. That is all."
Daoud was pleased to hear Manfred go along with his disguise. He relaxeda bit and eyed the king of southern Italy and Sicily. A splendid-lookingman with a charm that Daoud felt after only a moment's acquaintance.
"Will the peddler be so kind as to return my dagger?" Lorenzo asked withheavy irony. "This side of the Black Sea it is considered discourteousto stand in the king's presence holding a naked weapon."
"Of course," said Daoud, holding the dagger by its guard and handing ithilt-first to Lorenzo, who in turn gave the Saracen soldier back hissword.
Daoud was glad he had not had to kill Lorenzo. The Sicilian, like hismaster, Manfred, was clearly a man above the common run. His behaviortoward Daoud so far had been a series of clever pretenses. Indeed, Daoudwas sure he had not gotten to the bottom of Lorenzo yet.
"I thank you for entertaining us with this display of your fightingskills, Messer David," said King Manfred. "Now let us talk of the silktrade. Join us, Lorenzo."
Manfred led the way into the audience chamber beyond the Hall of Mars.Walking beside Daoud, Celino snapped his fingers at Scipio. The big grayhound rose and followed, casting a hostile look at Daoud.
_Why did they try to kill me?_
In the audience hall, marble pillars supported a vaulted ceiling piercedby circular glazed windows. A dozen or more men and women stood around,staring at Daoud. His glance quickly took in the feathered caps of themen, the pale rose and violet gowns of the women, and the gilded netsthat held their hair.
He tried not to stare at the women, whose faces were bare in the mannerof unbelievers. But they were all, he noted, beautiful in varyingdegrees. Several had striking blond hair and blue eyes. Though it washis own coloring, he was not used to seeing fair women, and hisheartbeat quickened.
But the gaze of a darker woman met his. Her amber-colored eyes seemed toburn. Her nose was small, the nostrils flaring, her lips full and darkred. The face was carefully without expression, revealing as little asif it were indeed covered with a veil.
The dark woman's black hair was coiled on top of her head in braidsintertwined with ropes of pearls. Her scarlet gown was decorated withlong strips of satin embroidered in floral designs. Over her narrowshoulders she wore a shawl of flame-colored silk. Having been toConstantinople, Daoud recognized her style of dress as Byzantine. Shemade the other women of Manfred's court look like barbarians.
She held his gaze steadily. He bowed his head courteously, and sheresponded with a faint nod. Then he was past her.
Standing on a dais at the end of the hall was a large chair of blackwood with painted panels; to the left of the dais sat a small group ofpurple-robed men holding string and wind instruments. On the right was asmall doorway. A servant leapt to fling open the door for Manfred, whostrode briskly toward it, tossing pleasantries to his courtiers.
The door led through a series of rooms where clerks wrote busily, andDaoud noticed with surprise that they went right on scribbling as theirking walked through. Obviously Manfred preferred their work to theirhomage.
Daoud sensed that their path was taking them on a circuit of the greateight-sided structure. They passed through a small kitchen where bakerswere preparing fruit pastries. Manfred plucked a freshly baked cherrytart from a tray, bit into it, and nodded to the bowing cook.
To his surprise, Daoud noticed a small figure in one corner, the littlebent man who had earlier looked on him with pity. The dwarf lay curledup on his side with closed eyes on his empty firewood cart. Not a badoccupation, Daoud thought, supplying firewood to the king's pastrykitchen.
Beyond the kitchen the three men entered another great hall, so brightlylit that Daoud's eyes hurt for a moment. The afternoon sun streamedthrough arched windows of white glass set, as in the Hall of Mars, highin the walls. The walls were lined with shelves loaded with books andcompartments filled with scrolls. Walkways at three levels ran aroundthe walls, and ladders were spaced along them. Men in long gray tunicsbrowsed at the shelves or sat at tables in the center of the roomreading books and scrolls and making notes on parchment.
A servant opened a wrought-iron grill in the shortest wall of thelibrary, and the three men stepped out under the sky into an octagonalspace filled with trees and plants, enclosed on all sides by acolonnaded gallery. In the center of the garden a small fountain played,topped by a small bronze statue of a naked woman straddling a dolphin,the water spurting from the dolphin's mouth. Daoud was momentarilyshocked. The most powerful and corrupt emir in Egypt would not dare tohave such a statue where strangers might see it.
Manfred beckoned, and Daoud followed him down a pebble path to the basinof the fountain. Small dark green fish flickered through the water. Theking seated himself on a marble bench, and the two men stood before him.At a gesture from Lorenzo, Scipio lay down in the sun beside a bushbearing dozens of dark-red roses.
The sun gleamed on Manfred's pale hair. "What does your sultan want ofme?" he asked.
"I am ordered to speak openly only to you and your secretary Aziz," saidDaoud, his glance shifting to Lorenzo.
"Ah, you did not know, then, that Aziz is the name Lorenzo Celino useswhen he writes to the Sultan of Cairo for me?"
Lorenzo Celino--Aziz? Daoud turned to Celino and laughed with delightedsurprise.
"You write excellent Arabic. I would never have guessed that you werenot one of us."
Lorenzo accepted Daoud's compliment with a small bow.
"One of _us_?" said Manfred. "And what are you, then, Messere? I seebefore me a strapping man, blond enough to be one of my Swabian knights,yet who claims to come from the Sultan of Cairo. You are no Arab orTurk."
"Indeed not, Sire," said Daoud. "I am a Mameluke."
"A blond Mameluke." Manfred nodded. "Where are you from, then, Russia orCircassia?"
Without emotion Daoud told the king of his descent from crusaders andhis capture by the Muslims.
"What a strange world this is," said Manfred. "And when did this happento you?"
"Twenty years ago, Sire. For most of those years I have served my lordBaibars al-Bunduqdari, who is now Sultan of Cairo."
"And you are a Muslim?"
"Of course, S
ire."
Manfred stood up and came close to him. "Of course? You say that sofirmly. Do you not remember the Christian teachings of your childhood?"
The question made Daoud angry. _My soul is undivided. King or not, howdare this infidel question that!_
"God willed that I find the truth, Sire," he said simply.
Manfred shrugged. "It is all the same to me. I have lived among Muslimsall my life."
"May I know, Sire, why your secretary, to whom my master sent me in goodfaith, tried to kill me?" Daoud asked.
Manfred turned his back on Daoud and strolled a short distance down thepebble path. "Lorenzo is neither my secretary nor does he normallycommand my gate guards. He performs for me _unusual_ tasks that requirea man of uncommon courage, loyalty, and wit. Such as testing you--first,by taking you prisoner, then by giving you pork and wine and speaking toyou in Arabic, finally by trying to kill you."
"But I might have killed him."
"I did not realize how much of a risk I was taking," said Lorenzo.
"We did not think Baibars could find anywhere in his empire a man whocould go to the papal court undetected. We hoped to show him his errorand send you back. But you are quite a remarkable man, David."
_Show Baibars his error!_ Manfred might be a brilliant man, but heevidently underestimated Baibars. Daoud sensed himself feeling a bitsuperior and warned himself not to make the same mistake andunderestimate Manfred.
"Perhaps now that you have tested my ability, Sire, you might be moreinclined to help me."
"Help you to do what?" There was a note of irritation in Manfred'svoice. "Your Sultan Baibars has asked me only to help you carry out amission in the Papal States. What is your mission?"
Daoud said, "Sire, my master chose not to entrust his plan to writing,but sent me to tell it to you instead. I am here for one purpose, toprevent the forming of an alliance between Christians and Tartars."
Manfred looked surprised, and stared intently at Daoud. "Tartars? Thosebarbarians who invaded Europe--how long ago, Lorenzo?"
Lorenzo frowned. "Over twenty years, Sire."
Daoud said, "Fifty years ago they were nothing. A scattering ofherdsmen, like the Bedouin. Now they are the most powerful people onearth."
Manfred nodded. "Yes, I remember now. When they rode into Poland andHungary I was just a boy. Everyone was in terror of them. Their emperorsent letters to all the monarchs of Europe demanding that theysurrender. He contemptuously offered them positions in his court." Hegrinned at Daoud. "My father showed me the letter he was sending back.If Tartar emperor succeeded in conquering Europe, my father said, hewould be well qualified to serve as his falconer."
Daoud inclined his head. "Your family's love of falconry is well knownto your admirers in the lands of Islam. My lord the sultan considers youan old friend and hopes that you will see fit to help him in his time ofneed."
Manfred held out his hands, palms up. "If I can."
"Now the Tartars have fallen upon the lands of Islam," Daoud said. "Theyhave conquered Persia. They have a hundred thousand mounted warriors inthe field, and allies and auxiliaries. They have leveled our holy cityof Baghdad, destroyed it utterly, and killed every man, woman, and childwho lived there, even the Commander of the Faithful, our caliph himself.These are no fanciful tales, Sire. I have fought against the Tartars. Ihave seen with my own eyes the ashes of Baghdad and the heaps of itsdead."
The scene of desolation arose in his mind as it had so many timesbefore, the gray plain where a city had been, the unbelievable sight ofa landscape strewn with rotting, headless corpses as far as the eyecould see. To put it out of his mind, he hurried on with what he had tosay.
"Now their armies advance through Syria, threatening the realm of mylord, the Sultan of Cairo. We have had word that Hulagu Khan, commanderof the Tartar armies in Persia, has sent two high-ranking emissaries tothe pope. They are sailing across the Middle Sea now, from the island ofCyprus to Venice. Hulagu Khan wants to form an alliance with theChristian rulers of Europe to attack us from both directions at once,east and west. Our whole people, our whole Muslim faith, could beutterly wiped out."
Manfred nodded grimly. "And all of Christian Europe would rejoice atyour destruction. Not I, certainly, but the rest of them. What do youpropose to do about these Tartar emissaries to the pope?"
"For that I will need your help, Sire. I, too, will go to the pope'scourt. I understand that he resides at Orvieto, a small town north ofRome."
"Yes," Lorenzo put in, "and there he will stay. He has not set foot inRome since he galloped in to be crowned at Saint Peter's and gallopedout again. He is terrified of the Roman mob. As well he should be, sincemost of their leaders are in our pay."
"Trade secrets, Celino," said Manfred, raising a cautioning finger. "So,you will go to Orvieto. And then?"
"I will present myself at the pope's court as I have here, as David, amerchant of Trebizond. I will take up residence with--friends--who canhelp me reach the ears of men of influence. I will spread storiesthroughout Orvieto--true stories--of the horrors the Tartars haveperpetrated everywhere they have gone, of their determination to conquerthe entire world."
Manfred shook his head. "What you plan to do is very dangerous. You'veproven to us that you are a skilled and resourceful man, but still, whatif you are discovered?" He shook his head. "Have you any idea of howyour people are _hated_ in Europe, David? If it were known that I helpeda Muslim spy to steal into the court of the pope, all the kingdoms ofChristendom would turn against me. The pope need but snap his fingersand I and my little realm would be swept away. No, David. You ask me torisk too much."
Daoud was momentarily surprised, then angry. He had expected thatManfred would cooperate with him. If the young king vacillated, Daoudmight have journeyed from Egypt to Italy for nothing.
And then a ripple of fear crept up his spine. If he failed to persuadeManfred, the Tartars might destroy the world he had come to love andbelieve in.
_God, help me to stop them. I must not go back to El Kahira a failure._
He must choose his words with care. He was dealing here with a king, andone did not argue with kings. Better to ask questions than offerarguments.
"Does not the pope wish even now to take your throne from you, Sire?" hesaid. "How can matters between you and him be any worse?"
Manfred nodded. "True, Pope Urban keeps offering my crown to this princeand that, claiming that I had no right to inherit it from my father. Andthat he had no right to have it in the first place." Manfred bit hislip, and the light pink of his cheeks reddened. "But only the French arepowerful enough to take it from me. And King Louis of France is kindlydisposed to me and will not permit any of his great barons to make waron me. I rely on Louis's continued goodwill."
"But the man who wants to join with the Tartars to annihilate Islam isthat same King Louis of France," Daoud said. "France, as you said, isthe only kingdom with the power to help the pope dethrone you. Shouldthe pope decide against allying with the Tartars, King Louis willcontinue to prohibit his subjects from joining the pope's war againstyou. Help me, and you come between King Louis and the pope."
"Intrigue requires gold," said Manfred. "Does your master expect me topay for your activities?"
"What I have brought with me will pay for all," Daoud replied. Heunbuckled his belt and undid the laces that held his hose tight aroundhis waist. Celino moved closer, tense, ready in case Daoud should reachfor a weapon. Daoud slipped his fingers into the breeches he wore underhis hose and found the bag tied to the drawstring.
"What is the man doing?" said Manfred with a wondering smile. Celinoshook his head.
Daoud pulled out a bag of heavy red silk, full and round with what itheld. He felt a childlike delight in mystifying the two men.
"Pay me from your royal treasury what this is worth," said Daoud, "and Ishall have gold enough for all I need to do." He pulled apart the mouthof the silk bag and drew out of it a globe of green fire. He held it outto Manfred. Celino gasped.
Daoud was gratified at their wonderment.
"Are you not afraid I will steal this from you and dump you in anunmarked grave?" said Manfred with a bright grin.
"The Hohenstaufen family have been friends of the sultans of Egypt sinceyour father's day," said Daoud. "We have learned to trust you."
"Just listen to that, Lorenzo," said Manfred. "The Saracens think betterof me than the pope does."
Besides, Daoud thought, Manfred knew that Baibars's arm was long.Manfred, Daoud was sure, knew that Baibars would not permit anyone, evena distant head of state, to betray him so flagrantly.
His eyes wide, Manfred extended his palm, and Daoud unhesitatinglyplaced the emerald in it. Manfred raised it close to his face, peeringthrough the dark depths into its glowing heart. The jewel, irregular inshape but nearly spherical, reflected little spots of pale green lighton his cheeks. He shook his head.
"Green, the color I love best in all the world. The color of hope." Heencircled it with thumb and forefinger. "Look, Lorenzo, I cannot get myfingers around it. I am amazed that your master is willing to part withsuch a wonder. How did he come by it?"
"It has been through many hands, Sire," said Daoud. "It once belonged toEmir Fakr ad-Din, who commanded the army of Egypt when King Louisinvaded our land."
"To think Baibars let you take this emerald from him, and you came allthis way from Alexandria with it and delivered it to me. And Baibarstrusted you."
"As he trusts you, Sire," Daoud put in quickly.
"_You_ are like a falcon, are you not?" said Manfred, smiling intoDaoud's eyes. "Released to fly far afield for your sultan."
Manfred strode to Daoud suddenly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Letit be done as your master wishes, then. The trader from Trebizond willgo to Orvieto with my help."
A surge of joy sprang up within Daoud and almost burst past his lips. Hebowed, his heart pounding.
_God be thanked!_
Manfred said, "We must see about turning this jewel of yours into goldcoins. Or smaller jewels. They would be easier to carry than gold."Manfred looked lovingly at the emerald again, then carefully dropped itinto his belt pouch and smiled at Daoud.
"You should not go alone into the Papal States, David. You may havestudied Europe from afar, but you do not know Italy firsthand. Lorenzohere shall go with you. I trust Lorenzo to travel far and secretly in myservice, even as your master trusts you."
Celino sighed. Daoud and Celino eyed each other.
Daoud began searching for ways to dissuade Manfred. A short whileearlier he and Celino had been trying to kill each other. And Celinowould be putting Manfred's interests first, not those of Islam.
Obviously aware of his hesitation, Manfred took his arm. "Listen to me,Mameluke. You will be wise to accept every bit of help that is offeredto you. I have powerful allies in northern Italy, in Florence, Pisa,Siena, and other cities. But you do not know them and they do not knowyou. Lorenzo speaks for me. He knows who the key Ghibellini are in thenorth, and they know him. Do not object to taking him with you."
Manfred would not let him go, Daoud realized, unless Celino went withhim. And the argument that Celino could put him in touch with theGhibellini of the north was a strong one.
_Lorenzo is perhaps twenty years older than I, but he is quick-wittedand quick on his feet. And, yes, I would rather not go alone. I couldeasily make a mistake from ignorance. I am better off with a man likethis to guide me._
A tentative smile played under Celino's grizzled mustache. "My royalmaster is determined in this. What do you say?"
Daoud bowed. "I accept. With gratitude. We shall travel this roadtogether."
"Whatever happens to the two of you," Manfred said, "no one must everknow that I am involved."
"I guarantee that, Sire," said Celino.
Manfred rubbed the palms of his hands together. "There is one otherperson I propose to send with you. She can be a great help to you."
Celino turned quickly to Manfred. "I do not advise it, Sire."
"Why not?" said Manfred. "She will be perfect."
"Because she will not want to go." There was censure in Celino's darkstare--and a boyish defiance in Manfred's answering look.
"Do not question me," said Manfred. "I have no choice. For her good andfor my own, she must leave here. And she _will_ be useful to you."
Instead of replying, Celino only sighed again.
"A woman?" Daoud was thunderstruck. In El Kahira women left their homesonly to visit other women. He felt anxiety claw at his belly. Anymistake in planning might wreck the mission and doom him, and Celino, toa horrible death. And to send a woman to the court of the pope on such aventure seemed not just a mistake, but utter madness.
"A very beautiful woman," said Manfred, a grin stretching his blondmustache. "One who has had a lifetime's schooling in intrigue. She isfrom Constantinople, and her name is Sophia, which means wisdom inGreek."
_There are no more treacherous people on this earth than theByzantines_, Daoud thought, _and they have ever been enemies of Islam_.
Argument surged up in him, but he saw a hardness in Manfred's eyes thattold him nothing he might say would sway the king. He looked at Celino,and saw in the dark, mustached face the same reluctant acceptance he hadheard in the sigh.
Whoever this Sophia might be, he would have to take her with him.