"Perhaps she cannot."
"Blood of Christ, why are you torturing me?"
The old priest shook his head. "Do you understand that if there were any way out of this conversation for me, I would take it?"
Simon looked at the faded old eyes and saw the pain. "Yes."
"I do not want to tell you what Rachel said. I respect her confidence. And I do not like passing on suspicions like this. Come and talk with her yourself."
"Right now? Here in this palace?" Simon shivered with an inner cold.
"Yes. De Verceuil and the Tartars have been invited to a supper at the Palazzo Papale. Rachel is alone in her room. I made sure of that a little while ago."
Feeling like a man going obediently to his own beheading, Simon said, "Let us go and talk to her, then."
In the corridor, Simon saw Sordello and Thierry.
"Your bath is ready, Monseigneur," said Thierry.