Daoud struggled back to the infinite emptiness that hid God, and as he did so he felt his mind clear. The drugs were spreading like tiny flames through his body, but his body was far away. Too far away for him to feel the heat. Beside him, Saadi said, "Everything made by God has two sides, a useful side and a harmful side. That which is sometimes a poison can at other times be a medicine. Even kaviyeh, which we drink in such great quantities to give vigor to our minds, can be a poison. If a substance is taken in the right amount, on the right occasion, with the right attitude, it can unlock doors in the mind. Our lord Baibars, peace be upon him, has told me he plans to send you to the Hashishiyya for further training. This practice will help you to gain more from their teachings--and protect you from being corrupted by them. In the months to come you will learn to take in every kind of intoxicating substance and keep your mind free. This is not magic. This is a power of the spirit. What are you feeling?" "The drug devours my body, but my mind is in the Presence of God." "One day, when you have learned all you can from the Hashishiyya, I will teach you the secret of the most powerful drug of all--soma, the drug that is made by the mind and does not harm the body at all." * * * * * _No head for wine? No man in this room is less susceptible to wine._ De Verceuil still stood beside the white-bearded pope. His gloomy face tightened as his eyes met Daoud's. Daoud dropped to one knee before the pope and kissed the heavy gold ring that bore a tiny engraving of a man in a boat. He saw that the old man was wearing white satin slippers. Daoud felt so dizzied by the wonder of this moment that the tiled floor seemed to shake under him. He held in his hand the hand of the Pope of Rome, successor to those popes who had sent wave after wave of crusaders crashing against the walls of Islam, whose words had caused the deaths of thousands and thousands of the faithful. He, Daoud ibn Abdallah, once David Langmuir, had penetrated to the very center of Christian power. _Was there ever a moment like this before in all of time, when a servant of the true God and a believer in the word of the Prophet held the hand of a pope in his?_ "Messer David of Trebizond, the Venetians have just raised the prices of saffron, curry, ginger, and cardamom," said the pontiff in a deep voice. "All of which are indispensable to my kitchen. Can you furnish me with spices more cheaply?" It took all of Daoud's self-control to hold in a burst of laughter. A Mameluke comes face-to-face with the pope, and what do they discuss? The price of spices! But he sobered as he realized how useful the pope's interest in spices could be to him. As a purveyor of spices to the papal palace, his position in Orvieto would be more respected and more secure.