And what if the contessa were to discover that the man they were talking about had incited that attack and used it as cover for his own attempt to murder the Tartar ambassadors, Sophia thought. She would want him torn to bits in the piazza. New waves of terror washed over her. And she would want those who helped him punished along with him. Sophia glanced at Ugolini and saw that he was sweating. _Dear God, do not let him falter now._ "Of course, Contessa," he said. "That is why I have come to you. Because you, and not the podesta, are the one truly injured. But the arrest of David is a terrible mistake. I place before you my belief in this man's absolute innocence. I am prepared to swear to it. He was not even here in Orvieto when that dastardly attack occurred. He was in Perugia. There are countless witnesses. I know this man. He is a _good_ man, a merchant, not a warrior." "I remember him," said the contessa. "A very good-looking blond man. I heard his conversation with the Tartars and I began to wonder myself about the wisdom of allying ourselves with them." "It is probably because David did testify against the Tartars that the podesta thinks he might be connected with the attack on your palace," said Ugolini. "But such a man as David would have nothing to do with such mascalzoni as the Filippeschi. I, too, have opposed the alliance, and yet you and I are friends. It is one thing to disagree in a civilized way. It is another to turn to behave like a scoundrel. David has the same horror of murder that we all do." Remembering what she had heard about the killings in the cathedral plaza, Sophia wondered if the contessa had any horror of murder at all. "I am sure that is true," said the contessa. "But the podesta must have good reason for detaining this David." Despair overwhelmed Sophia. The tears that had been falling in her soul sprang to her eyelids and began to run down her cheeks. She should not show her feelings like this, she thought. But what did it matter, when Daoud was dying and no one would lift a hand to save him? "Why are you crying, child?" said the contessa. Sophia heard sympathy in her voice. "Forgive me, Contessa," she said, sobbing. "This is very rude of me." "Does this man mean so much to you?" asked the old lady, her rasping voice softened. In her anguish, Sophia was still clear-headed enough to see that she might use that anguish. She threw herself down on the terrazzo floor and clasped the contessa around the knees. "Sophia!" She could hear Ugolini's chair scrape as he stood up. The boy took a step toward her. "It is all right," said the contessa. "You love this man, do you not?" She patted Sophia's hair. "Yes," Sophia wept. "And I swear to you, he is innocent." _He is, too, because he believes that everything he is doing is right._ "Your Eminence?" said the contessa. "You approve of your niece and this man from Trebizond?" "Oh, certainly," said Ugolini waving his hands. "He is a fine man."