Still, Daoud felt his blood seethe. He remembered a summer night over ten years before, when he had bribed a slave and slipped through an unlocked gate into the arms of Ayesha, the young wife of Emir Tughril al-Din, then his commanding officer. They had lain together all that night on the roof of the mansion of Tughril al-Din, bathed in sweat, and the sweet terror of the blades that would hew his naked body to pieces if they were discovered goaded him into plunging into her again and again. Only the moon and stars bore witness that he was enjoying the wife of his commander, the man who ordered him about and punished him when he made an error, the man who had the power of life and death over him. Toward dawn, the delight of it bubbled up in his throat and he laughed so loudly that the small Circassian girl put her hand over his mouth. _And now he does to me that which I did to Tughril al-Din._ Daoud shook his head. Nonsense. Sophia was not his wife, and it was for this very purpose, to seduce, corrupt, and spy upon the enemy, that he had brought her here. _To use her, as I used Rachel and the women at Tilia's. First the Tartar took Rachel, and now de Gobignon takes Sophia. And I am nothing but a slave and a panderer._ A second silhouetted figure appeared beside Simon, much shorter, with unbound hair falling in waves and a narrow waist. Daoud saw Sophia rest her hand on his shoulder. A moment later she took the Frenchman's hand, and they both turned away from the window. The curtain fell back in place behind them. _She leads him to bed!_ Daoud was shaking with rage. Every muscle in his body ached to kill de Gobignon. _Oh, God, give me the chance to destroy him!_ He heard another sound to his left, the scrape of a boot on cobblestones. His hand darting to his sword, he glanced toward the street he had just passed through. Nothing. De Gobignon had brought a friend or servant with him. The friend was waiting at that inn, where he could watch the front of Ugolini's mansion, and, perhaps, signal to de Gobignon as dawn approached. De Gobignon's friend had been watching Daoud. He must be all in a sweat, knowing that Daoud had seen the young count in Sophia's window. He would expect Daoud to raise an alarm. And if Daoud did not, then de Gobignon would guess that David of Trebizond _approved_ Simon's making love to the cardinal's niece. And from that it would only be a step to realizing that David and Sophia must be plotting together. It would extinguish any suspicion of Sophia the count might have if Daoud were to rush into the mansion, raise an alarm, and pursue Simon. But if de Gobignon were caught, it would mean a scandal. His French compatriots would certainly do all they could to stop him from seeing Sophia again. Again Daoud heard the scrape of a boot sole on the stone of the street. He drew farther back under the overhanging upper story of a house facing the mansion. Now de Gobignon's man could not see him without showing himself.