"To send you into the enemy camp as he did, Count Simon must have great confidence in your ability."
Sordello laughed angrily. "Confidence? That high and mighty French fop? He was probably hoping you would catch me. Sia maledetto!"
He curses de Gobignon. Excellent. Or is this merely for my benefit? Daoud peered at Sordello, wishing the room were lit by more than a few torches burning in cressets. The flickering light was impressive, like this gilded throne, but if Daoud could get closer to Sordello and see better, he could be more sure of what the man was really feeling.
Daoud said, "He who is loyal to me is never cast out, no matter how foolishly he behaves."
"Does he who is loyal to you get to go to paradise often, Maestro?" Sordello's voice was thick with yearning.
It was time for the final step. Daoud beckoned. The nearest hooded figure on his right, who was actually Lorenzo, came forward with a green earthenware cup. He bent and held it before the kneeling Sordello.
"More of your stregoneria? Or have you finally decided to poison me?"
"Would I have showered you with wonders, as I have tonight, only to kill you? No, I have one final wonder to show you. Drink, Sordello."
This wonder probably will be the death of you, but not for a while.
After a long hesitation, the old bravo lifted his head and swallowed the liquid Lorenzo poured down his throat. He made a sour face. "Paugh! It tastes bad!"