She sat back and tied the Muslim amulet around her neck, as she had seen it tied around his. Then she dug the fingers of both hands into the silk of her gown, near the collar, and pulled at it until it tore. She put her hands over her face and let darkness sweep over her mind as sobs shook her and her tears fell. LXX Terror filled the little room like a pool of icy water. Soon, Sophia thought, terror would drown them. The worst for her was not knowing whether Daoud was alive or dead. _Before dawn I had him here in this bed. Now after sunset I have no idea where he is._ Sophia lay back on the bed, while Tilia sat on cushions laid over Sophia's traveling chest. Ugolini sat in an armchair reading--trying to read, Sophia suspected--a leather-bound book by the light of a candle in a brass holder standing on the arm of the chair. Only the yellow gleam of the candle and the reddish light of a low fire on the hearth illuminated the room. From the shadows along the wall, the icon of Saint Simon stared at her. She wondered whether she should have spoken to Daoud of what she had come to suspect. Her time of the month, regular as the moon itself since she was a girl, was over six weeks late. It seemed the brew of myrrh, juniper berries, and powdered rhubarb Tilia had concocted for her, and which she had drunk faithfully every morning for six months, might have finally done its work. She wanted Daoud to know, though she was not sure whether he would be pleased. He had never said that he had any children. She wanted to be sure she was truly carrying his child before she told him. Tilia had advised her to wait until at least twelve weeks had gone by without an issue of blood. But now it hurt her that she had not told him. It would have been another parting gift she could have given him. Darkness had fallen. The foreboding quiet of Benevento was broken by shouts in the distance, growing louder as they came closer. She heard a scream from the street. A woman's voice, shrill with fear. She shut her eyes and shuddered. Another scream, this time a man's voice and full of agony. Sophia's body grew colder. She looked at Ugolini and saw that he was trembling. It was not just terror that was making her cold. The fire was burning too low. She got up and laid two more split logs on it. Back on the bed, she reached into the neck of her gown and pulled on the long silver chain, drawing out the locket Daoud had given her. She twisted the screw and opened it and stared for a moment at the engraved, interlocking arabesque pattern.