He could not hold the pain back. He could escape it only in sleep. He could not see Friar Mathieu or Simon de Gobignon or Rachel. His eyes were closing. He would dream of Sophia.
Rachel clutched the leather capsule desperately, as if by holding it tightly enough she could keep Daoud alive. She felt her sorrow crushing her as if it were a great stone pillar pressing down from the sky. She touched his cheek with her fingertips, and his face felt still as stone, and she knew the life had gone out of him.
She sat back and tied the Muslim amulet around her neck, as she had seen it tied around his. Then she dug the fingers of both hands into the silk of her gown, near the collar, and pulled at it until it tore.
She put her hands over her face and let darkness sweep over her mind as sobs shook her and her tears fell.
LXX
Terror filled the little room like a pool of icy water. Soon, Sophia thought, terror would drown them.
The worst for her was not knowing whether Daoud was alive or dead.
Before dawn I had him here in this bed. Now after sunset I have no idea where he is.