And Tilia, what of Tilia?
It surprised him that his anxiety for Tilia was so strong. She had come to be his friend without his ever realizing it.
He thought of Francesca, who had comforted him so during his first months in Orvieto. Of the women who had helped him initiate Sordello. All of them no doubt raped, and perhaps hurt in other ways besides.
The savages! This would never have happened in El Kahira.
It was safe enough to ask, "Who did it?"
"The ambassadors from Tartary and their guards, as they were leaving Orvieto to follow the pope to Perugia. The French Cardinal de Verceuil was there and, far from trying to prevent the wickedness, urged them on. It seems you dislike the Tartars with good reason."
The podesta paused. He still hoped, Daoud realized, to provoke or invite him into letting something slip.
If it was the Tartars, they must have come for Rachel.
D'Ucello picked up the flask of Greek Fire from the table, where it had stood these many hours, where Daoud could plainly see it. He had, most of the time, avoided looking at it.
"Were any of the women taken away?" Daoud asked. That, too, should be a safe question. Every moment he and d'Ucello talked, d'Ucello hoping he might yet learn something, was another moment of wholeness and life.