The Frank's dead body was heavy as he dragged it into the deeper darkness under the overhang of the nearest house. He fumbled about the dead man until he found his purse, a small one and not very heavy, and tucked it into his own belt. The pottery maker would be shocked in the morning to find a robbed and murdered man on his doorstep. Had anyone seen? The houses around the square were dark and silent as so many stone tombs. There was only that one light in the third-floor window of Ugolini's mansion. He could not enter the mansion now, with blood on him. Whoever unlocked the gate for him would be sure to connect him with the murdered man who would be found in the morning. Orvieto's authorities would be questioning everyone, and Ugolini could not control what his servants might say. Back to Tilia's, then. He chose another street leading out of the square so as not to pass the inn where de Gobignon's man had been on watch. As he walked, he cast his mind back over what he had done. The killing left him troubled. Saadi had taught him never to waste human life. _To wage war is a holy obligation. But have a care that you kill, not with a small soul, but with a great soul._ This had been a necessary murder, Daoud thought. This young Frank had to die that Islam might be saved from infidel hordes of East and West. But, looking into his heart, Daoud knew that he had, indeed, killed with a small soul. He had been forced to kill de Gobignon's man, but he had also wanted to, and he had felt unworthy triumph over Simon de Gobignon. It had not even been an honorable fight. The Frank had no chance. _Purify my heart, oh, God_, he prayed as he walked back to Tilia Caballo's brothel. XXXII Simon remembered those kisses in the garden of the Palazzo Monaldeschi as he looked again at Sophia, and his arms ached to hold her. But he must keep himself in check. He was still not sure he could trust her. And even if he were certain of her honesty, courtly love commanded him not to touch her until months, perhaps years, of worshipful wooing had passed. Sophia said, "I must tell my uncle that his mansion is not as well protected as he thinks it is. His guards must have been asleep tonight." Her oval face reflected the warm glow of the five or six small candles she had placed around her room. Her dark brown hair was unbound and fell in waves to her shoulders. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he looked at her. "You did invite me here, Madonna." Simon felt rather proud of the way he had scaled the wall by the courtyard gate, waited till the cardinal's guards were out of sight, then climbed to the roof of the central wing.