She remembered the harsh face with its prominent cheekbones and gray eyes and thought, Perhaps being alone holds no terror for him. _After all, I am alone, and I have made the best of it._ "What is his mission in Orvieto?" she asked. She listened intently as Manfred told her a tale of trying to prevent the great powers of East and West from joining together to crush Islam between them. Manfred continued, "David hopes to influence the pope's counselors to turn against the Tartars, that they may sway the pope himself." "How can one man attempt such a huge undertaking?" "He brought me an exceedingly valuable stone, an emerald, which I will trade for jewels he can carry to Orvieto and exchange for coins. It pleases me greatly that the sultan would entrust me with such a gem. That helped to change my mind about this David. The Saracens are men of honor in their way." He smiled at her, looking pleased with the situation and pleased with himself. But she was quiet, unmoving, waiting for him to say the thing she feared to hear. "But you are right," Manfred went on. "He cannot do it alone." Warm yellow light once more filled their curtained cubicle. The cloud had passed away from the sun. But her heart froze. "I have decided I must entrust my own most precious jewel to David." He put his hand on hers. _Oh, no!_ she thought, anguish tearing at her heart as his words confirmed her guess. She felt a terrible pain, as if he had run her through with a spear. She wanted to clutch at him, hold him in spite of himself. She had not felt so lost since her mother and father and the boy she loved were killed by the Franks. She studied his face to memorize it, because soon she would leave him and probably never see him again. It would do her no good to let him see how she felt. She must decide what face to show him. _I am a woman of Constantinople, alone in a country of strangers. And we are an ancient people, wise and subtle, and we bide our time._ She sat up in the bed, hugging her knees, thinking. "How will my going with him help you?" He grunted softly, and she looked at him. He appeared relieved. She was making it easy for him. She felt the beginning of dislike for him stirring within her. "I thought you would be perfect for this. And you are." His words puzzled her, and she almost let her growing anger show. "I do not see what you see, Sire." "We are in bed. You may call me Manfred." _But I do not want to call you Manfred._ "What is it you think I would be so good at?" "You can mask your feelings," he said with a smile. "You are doing it now. You are very good at it." "Thank you, Sire." He shook his head, sat up beside her, and put an arm around her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you are precious to me. But you must go with this man. I cannot tell you all my reasons, but it is for your own safety as well."