The Saracen: Land of the Infidel

by Robert Shea

  X

  There is so much water in this country, thought Daoud. Raindropssparkled on every branch and leaf of the trees around him. The sky, oncemore a bright blue after the thunderstorm that had passed over them, wasreflected in water that still streamed through the ditches beside theroadway.

  Fortunate that Rachel's husband, a man who had spent many months of theyear on the roads of Italy buying and selling books in the Jewishcommunities, had carried a tent with him. Daoud, Sophia, Rachel, andeven Scipio had all crowded into it when they saw the storm coming. Thetent had leaked, but the heat of the August afternoon would soon drythem.

  Daoud hoped none of the others had noticed his fear during the storm. Hehad been in the desert when lightning crackled in black clouds and thewind blew smothering waves of sand. But the thunderstorms they had beenthrough had seemed to be just overhead, and so much water had fallenfrom the sky, Daoud was sure they would soon be drowned. It seemedalmost miraculous to him that he could emerge from Rachel's tent aliveand find the world outside as intact as he had left it. Better than heleft it, because it was now washed clean of dust.

  He walked to the edge of the road to see if Lorenzo was returning fromOrvieto.

  Orvieto.

  Across the valley, out of a deep-green forest rose a gigantic yellowrock shaped like a camel's hump. Crowning the hump, a wall of gray stoneencircled the peaked roofs and bell towers of churches, the battlementsof palaces and the red-tiled roofs of houses. One narrow road zigzaggedup the steep side of the great rock, sometimes disappearing into clumpsof trees, a white streak against the ocher cliffs. A city built on analmost inaccessible mountaintop, like the strongholds of theHashishiyya.

  He spied a horseman in purple cap and brown cloak descending the roadfrom the city. Celino. Following him was a glittering gilt sedan chaircarried by four bearers.

  The breeze that had brought the storm had died away, and Daoud wasbeginning to feel the heat of the sun on the back of his neck. A mildsun compared to that of Egypt, even though this was the middle of theItalian summer, but he drew up his cotton hood to shade his head. Heglanced over his shoulder. Rachel and Sophia were in the clearing on theother side of the road, watering the horses in a stream that ran downthe hillside. Rachel was nodding eagerly as Sophia talked. He hoped shewas not telling Rachel too much. Just as he himself might have toldSophia too much, he thought ruefully.

  Celino arrived at Daoud's camp well ahead of the sedan chair. Scipio hadbounded up the road to meet his master, and now licked the hand thatCelino held out as he dismounted.

  Celino said, "Cardinal Ugolini sends this messenger, who may surpriseyou."

  When the sedan chair came to rest on the side of the road, Daoud sawthat the four bearers were black men of Africa. They wore scarlet vests,and sweat glistened on their bare arms and chests. Sheikh Saadi had beensuch a man, and there were many such men in the Egyptian army. Daoudwondered if these, too, were Muslims. In the city of the pope? Notlikely.

  Two of the bearers drew back the curtains of the chair and reachedwithin. Bejeweled white fingers grasped the bearers' muscular arms, anda turban brocaded with gold pushed out past the curtains, followed by around body swathed in lime-green silk.

  Daoud was not surprised. This must be the one who called herselfMorgiana in the letters to Baibars that came regularly from Italy bycarrier pigeon and ship, thought Daoud. Still clinging to the bearers,the stout woman pulled herself erect. Then she waved her servants awaywith a flapping of sleeves and a jangling of bracelets and squinted atDaoud.

  "Is it time?" said Daoud. He spoke in Arabic.

  "Not yet," she answered in the same language. "But presently." Thatcompleted their prearranged words of recognition.

  "Salaam aleikum, Morgiana," he said, smiling. "Peace be to you." Hepushed back his hood and bowed to her. He had a warm sense of meeting anold friend. He had read many of her reports on matters of state inItaly.

  "Wa aleikum es-salaam, Daoud," she replied. "And peace also to you. Youwill have to know my real name now. Tilia Caballo, at your service."

  He had pictured Morgiana as a tall, slender woman of mature years,darkly attractive. The real Morgiana was quite different. Her eyebrowswere thick and black, her nose a tiny button between round red cheeks.Her face was shiny with sweat even though she had been doing nothing butsitting in a sedan chair. Looking at her spherical body, Daoud feltgreat respect for the strength of the men who carried her. The silkclinging to her body outlined breasts like divan cushions, and her bellyprotruded in a parody of pregnancy. Could she truly be a cardinal'smistress? Just as sultans and emirs had chief wives who were old andhonored and younger wives for play, perhaps Cardinal Ugolini kept TiliaCaballo only as his official mistress.

  The clasp on her turban was studded with diamonds. A heavy gold necklacespilled down the broad, bare slope of her chest. From the necklacedangled a cross set with blue and red jewels.

  _The gold Baibars has sent her helped buy the fortune she wears._ Hewondered, how much did Baibars really know about this woman?

  "I saw Cardinal Ugolini for a moment only, Messer David," said Celino."As soon as he found out I was from you, he insisted that I go to thislady's establishment." Celino, speaking the dialect of Sicily, utteredthe word stabilimento with a curious intonation. Scipio stood with hisforepaws on Celino's chest, and Celino scratched the hound behind theears.

  "He means the finest house of pleasure in all the Papal States," saidTilia Caballo, smoothing the front of her gown with a self-satisfiedlook. "Naturally his eminence Cardinal Ugolini cannot risk meetingopenly with you until I have seen you on his behalf." She had switchedfrom Arabic to an Italian dialect that was new to Daoud. He had troubleunderstanding her.

  He did not think it had been mentioned, in her letters or by Baibars,that she was a brothel keeper. He felt slightly repelled. He wondered ifBaibars knew. He must. Baibars knew everything.

  "Take yourself away, Celino," Daoud ordered. "And tell those two to comeno closer." He pointed to the forest clearing where Sophia and Rachelwere already starting toward him. "I must be alone with Madonna Tilia."

  "Yes, Messere," said Celino with a bow. Scipio paced ahead of him like atame lion as he walked off.

  "We expected you to enter Orvieto alone," said Tilia, looking at Sophiaand Rachel, who were staring back at her from across the road. "Why thisentourage?"

  _And I expected to meet with Cardinal Ugolini at once_, thought Daoudwith growing irritation. _Has he set this woman up as a barrier betweenhimself and me?_

  He explained briefly how Celino, Sophia, and Rachel came to be travelingwith him. Tilia gazed at him with a falcon's piercing stare. Daoud wasnot used to being stared at by a woman, and she made him uneasy. But hemet her eyes in silence until she turned to her slaves and made adropping gesture with her hand. The Africans immediately squatted in thegrassy clearing where they had set Tilia's chair. Daoud realized that hehad not heard a sound from them, and suspected they must have been madedumb.

  "Come." Tilia took his arm, again surprising him. In Egypt women did nottouch men they had just met. But she owned a house of pleasure. She wasnot a respectable woman.

  Why should that bother him, he asked himself. He had spent his share oftime in houses of pleasure along the Bhar al-Nil. What he felt towardtheir owners was mostly gratitude.

  Tilia drew Daoud with her into the thicket along the hillside, steppinggracefully, despite her bulk, around shrubs and over rocks and fallenbranches. She led him away from the road and into a grove of pine treesa little way up the slope. Daoud felt his muscles tightening. He wasgoing to have to undergo more testing before she would let him meetUgolini. Did they really think that Baibars would send a fool toOrvieto?

  "Spread your cloak for me." She pointed to a spot under an old pinewhose trunk rose straight and bare twice the height of a man before thefirst branch sprouted. Daoud unclasped his brown cloak and laid it onthe thick bed of brown pine needles. Tilia sat down, smiled, and pattedthe place beside her.

&
nbsp; "A messenger brought the news to the pope yesterday that the Tartarambassadors have landed at Venice," she said. "They are on their way toOrvieto and should be here in a week or so. They are well protected.They brought their own bodyguard, which is now reinforced by a companyof French knights and Venetian men-at-arms under a certain Count deGobignon."

  Daoud felt a tingle of anticipation, as he did when he was about toclose with the enemy in a battle.

  "So I will be in Orvieto before them. That is good."

  "Yes, but Cardinal Paulus de Verceuil has arrived here before _you_. Hespeaks for the King of France, and he has already begun to press thecase for a Tartar alliance before Pope Urban. He has arranged for theTartars and their guards to live at the palace of the Monaldeschifamily."

  Daoud caught an intonation in Tilia's voice that suggested it was agreat accomplishment for the Tartars to live at the Monaldeschi palace.Was she trying to discourage him?

  "What is this Monaldeschi family?" he asked.

  "The oldest and richest family in Orvieto," she said. "Right now thecapo della famiglia, the head of the family, is the Contessa Elvira diMonaldeschi, who is over eighty years old. But she is more ruthless andsavage than many a younger man. Almost all her menfolk have been killedoff by their blood enemies, the Filippeschi, and she has had manyFilippeschi killed."

  "What do they fight about?" said Daoud.

  "Who knows? A Monaldeschi kills a Filippeschi, so a Filippeschi kills aMonaldeschi. It has been going on forever." Tilia went on. "What youmust realize is that the Tartars will be well guarded because thecontessa has more men-at-arms than the pope and a very strong palace."

  He turned away from Tilia. Daoud stared out through the screen of pinebranches at Orvieto's sunlit rock platform. A wagon inched its way upthe narrow road.

  "Who is this French count who guards the Tartars?" he asked.

  "Count Simon de Gobignon. He is very young and very rich. He holds hugeestates in France and numbers his vassals in the thousands. He is closeto the French royal family, even King Louis himself and the king'sbrother, Charles d'Anjou."

  Charles d'Anjou. Daoud remembered Lorenzo saying that Charles d'Anjoucoveted the throne of Sicily.

  A flash of light caught Daoud's eye. A party of helmeted men in yellowand white surcoats had come out of the main gate of Orvieto, formed aragged column and were patrolling along the base of the city wall, ledby a man with a white plume on his helmet.

  "Who are those soldiers?" he asked.

  Tilia leaned forward to peer through the trees and across the valley,then resettled herself against the tree trunk.

  "Pope Urban has two hundred Guelfo fighting men quartered in Orvieto. Inall honesty, Daoud--"

  "Call me David," he interrupted. "Here I must be known by a Christianname."

  "Well, David, I think you had best go quickly back to Egypt. What canone man do against the French royal family, half the cardinals, thepope, the Monaldeschi, and the Tartars themselves?"

  He felt a quick spurt of anger. He knew as well as she did the odds hefaced. Why was she trying to weaken him by making him afraid?

  _Ugolini sent her to discourage me. It is he who is afraid._

  He felt more respect for her, coming out and meeting him and trying toinfluence him, than he did for this Cardinal Ugolini, who was trying toprotect himself. He knew from having read her letters that she was ashrewd and brave woman. He had to win her cooperation. There was onlyone way he might hope to do that.

  Daoud smiled at her. "Does not great wealth give one great power?"

  She smiled back. He noticed that she had rubbed some kind of redcoloring on her cheeks to make herself look healthier. And she hadpainted blue-black shadows around her eyes, as Egyptian women did. Buthere and there her sweat had made the paint run in rivulets.

  She said, "Only faith is more powerful than money."

  "Then here is power." Daoud unbuckled his belt and let the jewels spillout of its hollow interior into his hand. He heard Tilia gasp. When theglittering stones filled his hand, he dropped them gently to the thinwoolen cloak he had spread on the ground and shook the rest out of thebelt. In the shadow of the pines the jewels seemed to give off their ownlight from their polished, rounded surfaces, red and blue, green andyellow. A sapphire, a topaz, and a pearl were each set in heavy goldrings. The others were loose. Some were so small that three or four ofthem would fit on the tip of Daoud's finger. One, a ruby, was the sizeof a whole fingertip. There were too many of them to count quickly, butDaoud knew that Manfred had given him twenty-five, and one had gone toequip them for the journey.

  "Sanctissima Maria! May I touch them?"

  "You are welcome to," he said, smiling, "but make sure none of themsticks to your fingers."

  She plucked some of the jewels from the cloak and let them tricklethrough her fingers, catching the light as they tumbled to the cloak.She held the big ruby up between thumb and forefinger and studied it,turning it this way and that.

  "A drop of God's blood."

  "You should have seen the single emerald I traded to King Manfred forthese smaller stones. There was beauty. A few at a time, these can beturned into gold."

  She looked into his eyes. She took him more seriously now, he thought.He was not just some strange Muslim whose rashness might get her killed.He was a source of wealth.

  "They must be sold carefully, or their sudden appearance will benoticed," she said. "After all, even the princes of the Church wouldhave to stretch their purses for these."

  "I have it in mind to buy princes of the Church, not to sell jewelry tothem."

  "We can sell some of these gems to the Templars. They have enormouswealth and they are very discreet."

  Noting that she had said "we," Daoud smiled at the thought of thoseferocious enemies of the Mamelukes, the Knights Templar, helping toprovide the financing that would weaken their foothold in Islamic lands.

  "Now," he said, "do you think we can accomplish something to keepTartars and Christians apart?"

  "Yes--something. Used wisely, these jewels--or their worth in gold--willgain you influence among the men around the pope. You might even pry afew of the French cardinals loose from their loyalty to King Louis."

  Daoud began scooping up the stones and funneling them into the hiddenpocket of his belt. "You must help me to use them wisely."

  "Exactly what do you have in mind?" she asked, her eyes fixed on thejewels as they disappeared.

  "I expect Cardinal Ugolini to take some of the gold and use it to builda strong party in Orvieto that will oppose the alliance." He eyed her,trying to see into her heart. "Can he manage such a thing?"

  "Oh, Adelberto is an old hand at intrigue. How else do you suppose hegot to be a cardinal? Indeed, he is the camerlengo for the College ofCardinals."

  "What does that mean?" Daoud asked as he buckled his belt.

  "He acts as a kind of chancellor to the pope, making announcements,calling the College together, conducting ceremonies--that sort ofthing."

  Daoud nodded. "Good. It is my hope that he can use this money to drawcardinals and Church officials to him, one way or another. And they willjoin together to turn the pope against the Tartars."

  "With all the money those jewels will bring, you can indeed create sucha faction, but I don't know what effect it will have on the pope. TheTartars offer the pope a chance to wipe out Islam once and for all."

  "Yes, and then after that the Tartars will wipe out Christianity," Daoudsaid. "I can tell those who will work with us what the Tartars are trulylike. I have seen them, fought against them. I have seen what they havedone to those they conquered." Like a cloud passing over the sun, amemory of ruined Baghdad darkened his mind.

  Tilia's eyes opened wide. "You intend to meet and talk--to bishops, tocardinals?"

  He touched his face with his fingertips. "This is why Baibars sentme--because I can go among Christians as a Christian. I will be David ofTrebizond, a silk merchant who has traveled in the lands ravaged by theTartars."

>   "Trebizond?"

  He could see the doubt in her face. He must seem confident to her. Hemust not let her know that he himself wondered how he, a warrior from aland utterly strange to these people, could make the great ones ofChristendom listen to him and believe in him. He could do it only withthe help of Tilia and Cardinal Ugolini--and they would not help himunless they believed he could do it.

  "Trebizond is on the eastern shore of the Black Sea. Far enough awaythat I am not likely to meet anyone in Orvieto who knows anything aboutit."

  "Do not be too sure. The pope makes a point of seeing people fromeverywhere."

  "Then he will probably want to meet me, since I am from a strange andfaraway place."

  Her eyes widened and her full lips parted. Her teeth were small, bright,and widely spaced.

  "You even want to meet with the _pope_?"

  He knew the enormity of what he was proposing. But he fought down thedoubt that her evident horror had aroused in him. He made himself soundabsolutely sure when he answered.

  "Certainly. Cardinal Ugolini will arrange an audience for me. If thepope has not yet made a decision, he will want to listen to one who hasseen with his own eyes what these Tartars are. I will tell him that anagreement with them would be like a lamb allying itself with a panther."

  "Talk to the pope! How would you know how to behave before the pope?"

  "Among my people, Madonna, I am not just a warrior. I stand high in thehighest councils. I have met with kings and great men of religion. Asfor the details of etiquette of an audience with the pope, as a travelerfrom Trebizond I might be expected to make mistakes."

  Daoud saw that her olive skin had turned a yellowish-white. "Do you wantto be torn to pieces by teams of horses?" she whispered. "I do not, andneither does Cardinal Ugolini. We cannot risk your being found out."

  He must overcome her doubt of him by seeming supremely confident.

  He said, "Then, for your own protection, you will teach me everything Ineed to know."

  And if Christians moved closer to Tartars despite intrigue andpersuasion, he and Baibars had already considered more desperatemeasures. The risk of failure would be greater and the consequences moredire. He would not tell Tilia about these more drastic steps. If hispresence and intentions already frightened her and Ugolini, it was bestthey not know the lengths he was prepared to go to.

  He hoped he would not have to attempt such things. The complexities anddifficulties of making them happen, the likelihood of things goingdisastrously wrong, all made these courses too daunting.

  Insh'Allah, if it be God's will, he would manage, with the help of suchallies as he found in Orvieto, to oppose and obstruct and delay thealliance until the project died of old age, or the Tartar ambassadorsthemselves died.

  _Time fights for Islam_, Baibars had told him. _The Tartar empire isbeginning to break apart, and the Christians are losing their eagernessfor crusading. Only delay this alliance long enough, and theiropportunity to destroy us will be lost._

  Tilia broke in on his thoughts, holding out her hands to him. "Help meup. My legs are getting cramped. I feel hungry. Do you have anything toeat?"

  He was not surprised that she asked for food. Mustapha al-Zaid, thechief eunuch of Baibars's harem, was monstrously fat, and was alwayseating.

  He sprang to his feet and pulled her up. The cross on her bosom swungand flashed. The top of her head came only to the middle of his chest,but he suspected that she weighed as much or more than he did.

  She smiled at him. "You are strong, and you move like a warrior."

  Ignoring the flattery, he said, "Sophia has bread and cheese that webought at a village called Bagnioregio. And some red wine to wash itdown."

  Tilia laughed. "Bagnioregio? Then you must have passed near the ruins ofFerento--the town that was destroyed for the heresy of displaying astatue of Christ on the cross with open eyes."

  "What? I saw no ruins. Open eyes?"

  "The ruins are off the road. But that will give you an idea of howcareful one must be where religion is concerned. I cannot imagine thatanyone makes decent wine in Bagnioregio. There is another town nearhere, Montefiascone, where they make the best wine in the world. Waituntil you taste that."

  "I drink wine only to deceive Christians," he said gruffly. "I do notlike it. Let us finish this conversation before you refresh yourself. Ido not want those two to know any more than I tell them."

  Annoyance flickered in her face. She was not used to being denied, Daoudthought. But she shrugged. "I presume you plan to use that beautifulwoman who travels with you as bait to win over some of the high-rankingchurchmen."

  To Daoud's surprise, the thought pained him.

  "She is a skilled courtesan and was Manfred's mistress," he said. "Andbefore that, King Manfred told me, she was a favorite of the Emperor ofConstantinople. We will want to keep her in reserve. I have in mind thatshe could live with the cardinal, pose as his niece."

  "Hm. And the other girl? She is very pretty and very young. The olderand more powerful churchmen are, the more they are drawn to youth."

  "We owe Rachel a debt. We have promised to find a home for her among theJews of Orvieto."

  "Oh, is she a Jew? But there are no Jews in Orvieto."

  "Somewhere nearby, then."

  "The nearest Jews live in Rome."

  Rome--where the Jews had already turned Rachel away. "She cannot go toRome."

  "Well, the girl would find working for me far more rewarding than livingon charity."

  "I am sure of it," said Daoud. But a dark memory from long ago rose totrouble him.

  He fixed his eyes on hers. "You would not force her into whoring, wouldyou?"

  Tilia pressed her hand to her bosom in mock horror. "Force! Women _beg_to be accepted into the family of Tilia Caballo."

  _A terrible thing to do to the child, but it would solve my problem_,thought David. _Rachel already must be aware that Sophia and Lorenzo andI are involved together in some secret enterprise. It would be best tokeep her where we can watch her._

  "For the time being, Rachel will stay with us at the cardinal's mansion,serving Sophia as her maid," he said.

  Tilia looked up at him, startled. "You _all_ intend to live with thecardinal?"

  Her surprise, in turn, startled Daoud. But then he saw that her eyeswere too firmly fixed upon him, and knew that she was dissembling.

  "As Morgiana, did you not approve this arrangement with my lord thesultan?"

  She shrugged. "That was when we thought you were coming alone."

  "Sophia and Lorenzo will be of great help to us. We will give it outthat I am the cardinal's guest. Lorenzo will be my servant, Giancarlo.And Sophia will be the cardinal's niece."

  "Hm." Tilia frowned. "I am _very_ hungry. Let me sample the delicaciesyour Greek woman bought in Bagnioregio. Then I will go back to the cityand send word to the cardinal of what you have told me."

  Daoud heard the false note in her voice and bristled with suspicion.

  _And you would keep me waiting out here while you warn him of what adanger I am to him._

  "I will tell him everything myself."

  Her eyes clouded over. "The cardinal will send for you when he has heardmy report."

  "Great God, woman!" Daoud's voice rasped in his anger. "Do you expectme to wait out here until the Tartars come to Orvieto? I am sent by thesultan, I bring great wealth to you and your master, I am fighting formy faith, _and I will not wait_!"

  Tilia patted his arm placatingly. "Look here, Daoud, in all honesty,Cardinal Ugolini is terrified. When he first got Baibars's message aboutyou, he wept for hours, cursing himself over and over for a fool.Imagine the outrage if the Christians were to discover that a Muslimagent has come so close to their pope. The cardinal would never havetaken the first denaro picciolo from your sultan if he had ever knownthat it would lead to this--a Turk at his door demanding his help in aplot against the pope."

  "I am not at his door," said Daoud pointedly.

  "No, and before
you arrive there, you must give me time to assure himthat you know what you are doing, that you do not look anything like aTurk, and above all that you bring him such great wealth as to make therisk worthwhile. If you just appear at his palace when he has insistedthat you wait here, it might throw him into a panic. He might dosomething very foolish."

  Anger flared up in him. She was obstructing him and threatening him, andhe had had enough.

  _She means he might expose me. Or order his men-at-arms to kill me. Thisis Manfred's indecision all over again._

  He seized Tilia's arm, his fingers sinking into soft flesh under hersilk sleeve. "I am going to the cardinal, with my party. And you willequip me with a message for him, telling him you feel assured it is safefor him to admit us."

  She stared up at him, expressionless, for a long time. He sensed thatshe was trying to see into his heart, to weigh his will.

  "No," she said. "You are not going now. First--"

  His grip on her arm tightened, and in his anger he was about to shakeher, when her hand darted to lift the pectoral cross from her breast.Her thumb pressed a dark red carbuncle between the arms, and a thinblade sprang out of the shaft.

  "Please notice that the cross is attached to my neck by a chain, David.I cannot hurt you unless you come too close to me. I have no wish toattack you. There is asp venom on the blade, by the way."

  His anger turned against himself. It was foolish to try violence on awoman like this. Had he not told himself he could not force Tilia andUgolini to do anything, that he must persuade them?

  _This woman herself is as dangerous as an asp. But I need her._

  He let go of her arm. "Pardon my crudity, Madama."

  Tilia pointed her blade straight up and pressed another jewel in thecross. The blade dropped back into the shaft.

  "I do not mind crudity," she said, "but I do not like to be manhandled."She smiled slyly. "Unless I've invited it. I had already made my mindup, before you laid violent hands on me, that I would agree to yourgoing at once to the cardinal. I have decided that you may be able toaccomplish what you set out to do without getting us all killed. You arebrave and intelligent, but you know how to bargain, too. You know whento yield and you know when to stand your ground."

  Daoud felt pleasure at her compliments, but even more pleasure that shewas going to cooperate with him.

  "Then why did you just say we would not be going to the cardinal?"

  "I was about to add that first you _will_ feed me bread and cheese andthe execrable wine of Bagnioregio. _Then_ I _will_ give you a messagethat will get you into Cardinal Ugolini's mansion."

  Daoud laughed. That Tilia had yielded was a great relief. And she wasboth witty and dangerous, a combination he admired.