by Robert Shea
XXV
Swords drawn, Daoud and Lorenzo stood back-to-back in the shadowycourtyard. Lorenzo faced the six men who had emerged from the end of thealley and were now fanning out to surround them. Daoud confronted thefour who had jumped down into the campiello.
A shutter opened on the overhanging second floor of a house, and Daoudglanced up to see a face. The shutter slammed with a finality thatdeclared the householder wanted nothing to do with what was going onbelow.
It was too dark to see the faces of the men before him. They wore darkcapes, and two of them carried long daggers in one hand and swords inthe other. One shadowy figure stepped forward now, and Daoud wondered ifthey were going to challenge him.
"Messere, let us speak quickly. You are David of Trebizond, are younot?"
The man had asked the question in an urgent but respectful tone.
Feeling a bit more hopeful, Daoud answered, "Yes, I am David."
"Who the devil are _you_?" called a voice from behind Daoud.
The man addressed his answer to Daoud. "I am Andrea Sordello of Rimini,Messer David. These three men are my comrades. It would honor us if youwould accept our service."
"Accept his service," Lorenzo said at once from behind Daoud. "We havenothing to lose."
Daoud made himself decide at once. "If you are willing to help me, I amgrateful."
"Be off with you, Messer Sordello," called one of the original pursuers."This is no quarrel of yours."
"And what is _your_ quarrel with these men?" Sordello replied.
"That is no affair of yours, Messere!" It was the voice of a very youngman, intense, passionate.
Daoud turned to face the young voice. At once Sordello moved to take aposition at his side.
Daoud realized that he could see better; the first hint of dawn. And notonly was there more light, but his head was clearer as well. The heat ofhis body, aroused to fight, was burning away the intoxicating spirits inhis blood.
The men opposite were spread far apart. The one who spoke for them wasslender and wore a cap that fell over one ear. A silver badge glitteredon the cap.
Sordello spoke again. "Since you will not say, Messere, I will tell_you_ what your affair is. You are of the famiglia Filippeschi. You sawthese gentlemen leaving the Palazzo Monaldeschi and decided that anyguest of the Monaldeschi must be an enemy of yours. And so you decidedto hunt down and kill these good gentlemen, who have done you no harmand are not even citizens of Orvieto, for the offense of having enjoyedthe hospitality of your rivals."
Filippeschi. Daoud had been wanting to make contact with them ever sincehis arrival in Orvieto. Now he had met them, and--accursed luck--theywanted to kill him.
"Lorenzo, they are Filippeschi," he muttered. "Talk to them."
"There is no talking to _them_, Messer David," said Sordello. "They areout for your blood."
"Be still," said Daoud. The man had offered his services. Let himconfine himself to serving, then.
Lorenzo stepped out in front of Daoud, his sword still out before him,but angled toward the ground.
"Messeres, at least you should know who it is that you have set out tokill. I am Giancarlo of Naples, and this is my master, David. He is amerchant from Trebizond, which is very far away. Much too far for himto have any connection with the quarrels of Orvieto."
One of the Filippeschi bravos, a short man standing to the left of theslender leader, said, "You spin a tale to try to fool us. Anyone can seeyour master is a Frenchman. Too many damned French in Italy. TheMonaldeschi are toadies of the French. Death to the Monaldeschi, anddeath to the French!"
What a bitter fate it would be, Daoud thought, if his Frankish looks,which caused him to be sent here, earned him his death in a stupidstreet fight.
"There are six of you," said Lorenzo. "But now that these four men havejoined us, there are six of us. Bad odds for you, because no matter howmuch you harm us, you will certainly come out of this quarrel worse offthan you went into it." Lowering his sword even more, he stepped closerto the young man with the silver badge on his cap. "Signore. Which ofthese men are you willing to lose, to pay for the privilege of hurtingus?" With his free hand he pointed from man to man in the circle of six."That man? That one? That one? Yourself?"
"We will start with you!" the short man shouted.
He lunged at Lorenzo, his sword thrusting straight for Lorenzo's chest.
Lorenzo's sword was up in an instant, parrying the short man's attack.At the same moment, out of the corner of his eye Daoud saw Sordello'sarm flash up, then down.
The short man gave a cry and stumbled. He staggered a few steps, thencollapsed in a heap at the feet of one of the other Filippeschi bravos.
Lorenzo stepped back so that he and Sordello flanked Daoud. Sordello'sthree men moved up beside them, one to the left, two to the right.
"You may see to the man who is hurt," said Lorenzo. "Unless you want tocontinue."
"If he is only hurt, I should retire to a monastery." Sordello laughed.Indeed, Daoud saw that the man on the ground was not moving.
_I do not like this Sordello_, Daoud thought. _He comes out of nowherewanting to work for me. He kills in haste and boasts about it._
The young man with the silver badge on his cap knelt by the fallenbravo and felt under his cape. "Morte," he said harshly, and stoodagain.
"Well, Messeres," said Lorenzo, "we are now six to five. We did notchoose to quarrel. We still do not wish to fight. In fact, we ourselvesare at odds with the Monaldeschi."
"How might that be?" said the young man.
"Are we done fighting? I wish to make a proposal to you."
The Filippeschi spokesman glanced at his fellows. "What say you?"
"Alfredo was my cousin," said a tall bravo in a rust-colored cape. "ButI cannot avenge him alone."
"Alfredo was impetuous," said the young man. "He acted before I gave anorder."
"You are no leader, Marco, if you will not undertake the vendetta forone of your men."
_The vendetta. These Italians are like the desert tribesmen. Kill one ofthem, and you have his family to deal with._
"I will show you what kind of a leader I am if you speak that way to meagain," said Marco.
"Enough, enough," said one of the other bravos, and the man in therust-colored cape shrugged.
It was now almost daylight, and Daoud studied the face of the young mancalled Marco. He could not be more than seventeen, Daoud thought,looking at his smooth cheeks and downy black mustache.
_Marco!_ He had heard that the head of the Filippeschi family was ayoung Conte Marco di Filippeschi.
"What do you propose, Messere?" said Marco.
"Meet me in front of the Church of Sant' Agnes," Lorenzo said. "Thisevening at Compline. Come alone, as I will. There are things we candiscuss, I think, to our mutual profit."
Marco bowed to Lorenzo. "I shall expect you, Messere." He gestured, andthe man in the reddish cape and one other picked up the body of Alfredo.
"Momento, Messeres," said Sordello, moving to the body in three quickstrides. He bent down, reached under the body, and with a jerk of hishand pulled free a long, thin throwing knife, which he wiped on hiscape.
"I can ill afford to lose so well-balanced a knife as this."
Alfredo's cousin, holding the body by the shoulders, said, "I know yourname, Andrea Sordello, and your face. You will not need that knife muchlonger."
Sordello made a mock bow. "Be assured, Messere, this knife will not miss_you_, if we should meet again."
A moment later the Filippeschi and their burden had disappeared into thealley.
Daoud studied the dark irregular stain where the fallen man had bled onthe rain-damp paving stones of the campiello. It was dawn, already pastFajr, the time for morning prayer.
_God is great. In the name of God, the Beneficent, the Merciful. Allpraise be to God, Lord of the Worlds._
"I advise you not to have any dealings with the Filippeschi, Messeres,"Sordello said suddenly. "They'll betray you."
Even though he had given no outward sign that he was praying, Daoud wasangered at being interrupted. He eyed Sordello. The man was shorter thanhe, about fifty years of age, Daoud judged. His hair was a good dealgrayer than Lorenzo's, and it hung lankly down to his jawline under ashabby maroon cap. The bones of Sordello's nose and brows were thickenedand flattened, as if they had been broken many times. It was the face ofan old fighter, the sort of face that usually commanded Daoud's respect,be it borne by Christian or Muslim. But when Daoud looked at him,Sordello stared back fixedly, unnaturally, as if it were an effort tolook Daoud in the eye.
"Was your advice asked, Messere?" Lorenzo growled.
_He feels about the man as I do_, Daoud thought. Now, Daoud thought,Sordello would bluster about saving their lives, and he would ask foremployment.
"Forgive me," Sordello said. "I presumed too much." He pulled off hiscap and bowed to the surprised Daoud. Either he was a better man than heseemed at first glance, or he was much more devious.
"Forgive _us_," Daoud said, bowing back, though not as deeply, anddrawing a disapproving grunt from Lorenzo. "We owe you our deepestgratitude. How came you leaping down from the housetops when we neededhelp so badly?"
"I have been looking for a chance to meet Messer Giancarlo. Tonight Iwaited outside the Monaldeschi palace, hoping that you would emerge fromthe reception in a good mood. While I and my fellows were hanging aboutthe palace, we chanced to see those brigosi lurking in the shadowsnearby. When you came out, it was you they chose to follow, so wefollowed them. When you went down this alley, we took to the rooftops,the better to surprise your enemies."
"Why were you looking for me?" Lorenzo asked gruffly.
"I heard that you pay well for men who are adept with sword and daggerand who ask no questions about what they might be hired for."
"I also like a man who does not talk much," said Lorenzo. "You talk agreat deal."
"Yes, Messer Giancarlo." Sordello lowered his eyes. Again, thatdisarming humility.
The man was resourceful and quick-thinking. He was arrogant one moment,humble the next.
"How did you come to Orvieto, Sordello?" Daoud asked him.
"I served Sigismundo Malatesta, governor of Rimini, until his death,"said Sordello. "Since then I have not found a suitable master. I wastraveling south, thinking perhaps of offering my sword to King Manfred,when I heard of you, Messer Giancarlo, while passing through Viterbo."
Daoud felt uneasy, hearing that Lorenzo's recruiting expeditions werebeing gossiped of in the cities around here. And how easily Sordello hadbeen able to make the connection between Giancarlo and David ofTrebizond. Just as Tilia had said, it was impossible to hire men withoutattracting attention.
He realized Lorenzo was waiting for him to speak.
"You may walk with us to Cardinal Ugolini's mansion," Daoud said.
When they emerged from the alley, there was no sign of the Filippeschi.Two of Sordello's men walked in front of Daoud and Lorenzo, and Sordelloand the other man followed behind them. The wine had worn offaltogether, but Daoud felt a throbbing pain behind his eyes and a greatneed to sleep.
"Well?" Lorenzo said, keeping his voice low. "The man wants us to hirehim."
"We need more men, and we want clever street fighters," said Daoud. "Heis that."
"Yes, but he is the type of man I detest," said Lorenzo. "I did not needhim to kill that Filippeschi bravo for me. He acts before he thinks."
"After tonight we may not have to attack the French directly," Daoudsaid. "On the other hand, we are sure to have further need ofbodyguards, and I think Sordello and his three companions would suit.Let us give ourselves time to think. Tell him you will meet him and givehim our answer in two days."
