"Please, Your Eminence," he said. "If I meant to have de Gobignon killed, I would not involve Sophia. I want her to tell him what we are supposedly doing. I hope to create conflict among the supporters of the alliance." "But Sophia takes a great risk meeting with him," said Ugolini. "What if de Gobignon attempts to force the truth out of her?" The thought of de Gobignon laying violent hands on Sophia angered Daoud, and he spoke impulsively. "_Then_ I will kill him." "God help us!" Ugolini went back to his work table and sat down behind it, his hands over his face. At once Daoud regretted what he had said. But was there no way to instill courage into this man? "There is much work for you to do, Cardinal," he said. "You must not falter now." "Then let there be no more talk of killing," said Ugolini fiercely, taking his hands from his face. Daoud poured himself another cup of kaviyeh and stood looking down at Ugolini. "With so much at stake, surely you know I would not do anything rash." "You need not think of _doing anything_," Ugolini said, a plea in his eyes. "As long as the pope delays his decision about the Tartars, your people are safe." True enough, Daoud thought. Delay was a large part of his mission. But, despite what Ugolini might think, it was not enough. For the safety of Islam, an alliance between Tartars and Christians must be made impossible. "Your Eminence, will it please you to visit the cardinals who heard the Tartars condemn themselves last night?" He tried not to make it sound like an order. "I see no need for that," said Ugolini. Of course, Daoud thought. The little cardinal's mind was so full of fear that he could not see at all. "But I am hoping that you can organize a delegation of cardinals to go to the pope and urge him to give up the idea of an alliance with the Tartars. After all, you are the cardinal camerlengo. Your word has weight." Ugolini made a bridge of his interlaced fingers and rested his forehead against them, as if his head ached. "I have attacked the Tartars at the pope's council." He spoke down at his table, barely loud enough for Daoud to hear him. "I have introduced you into the highest circles in Orvieto. I have let you recruit criminals and instigate riots while you live in my mansion. I hear you plotting murder." He looked up suddenly, wild-eyed. "Basta! Enough!" Despair made Daoud feel weak. He knew this sick feeling came partly from being awake all night, poisoning himself with al-koahl, and nearly getting himself murdered. He told himself it did not matter how he felt. He was Sufi-trained, and could control his feelings. He was a Mameluke, and must remain on the attack. But he chose not to meet Ugolini's refusal directly. "I also hope that you will be able to persuade Fra Tomasso d'Aquino to write an open letter, to the pope or to the King of France, denouncing the Tartars. Copies of the letter can be circulated to men of influence throughout Christendom."