The Saracen: The Holy War

by Robert Shea

  LXIII

  "Ecco! The residence of Cardinal Paulus de Verceuil," said Sordello witha flourish of his hand. The narrow Viterbo street on which Simon,Sordello, and Thierry had been riding opened out suddenly, and they werefacing a huge cylinder built of small stones, blackened with age. Simonfelt his mouth fall open in wonder, and he quickly snapped it shut. Hewould not let anything de Verceuil might do seem to impress him.

  They rode across a drawbridge over a moat full of water that smelled ofrotting things, its surface coated with a green slime.

  "It looks a bit like Castel Sant' Angelo in Rome," Simon remarked.

  "It was a pagan temple in ancient times," said Sordello.

  After passing through the gatehouse, they found themselves in astone-paved semicircular courtyard. The palace was built against therear half of the old Roman inner wall and towered above it.

  "No more lodging with some noble family or other," said Sordelloproudly. "Now our party has a residence of its own."

  _I would rather have almost anyone but de Verceuil as my host._

  Simon hoped he need stay here for only a short time. Just long enough tofind Sophia, overcome her reservations about marrying him, and be off toGobignon. His heart beat harder as he thought of seeing her again afterthose lonely, miserable months in Rome.

  Thierry took their horses to be stabled, while Sordello ushered Simonthrough a cavernous hall lit by a few small windows near the ceiling.Two men-at-arms Simon recognized as part of his troop of Venetiancrossbowmen snapped to attention just inside the door, and after afrantic scramble through his memory Simon managed to greet them by name.

  To Sordello Simon said, "I thank you for meeting Thierry and me at thecity gate and guiding us here." They crossed the entrance hall. "After along ride, one does not want to have to find one's way around a strangecity."

  Sordello smiled smugly in acknowledgment. "Little enough for me to do,Your Signory, for one who has done so much for me. Come, I'll show youto the room His Eminence has set aside for you."

  He led Simon up a great flight of marble stairs from ground level to thefirst floor of the mansion.

  "I am capitano of the crossbow troop again," Sordello said suddenly,halfway up the stairs.

  "Who decided that?" said Simon irritably. "I appointed Peppino capitanoafter Teodoro was killed."

  Sordello's bloodshot eyes caught Simon's. "Peppino was most courteousabout yielding to me when I rejoined the Tartar ambassadors' guards.After all, I am senior to him." They came to the top of the marblestairs, and he held out a hand to indicate stone steps leading to thesecond floor.

  _Damn!_ Simon had removed Sordello from his position for nearly killingthe Armenian prince, and it was pure insubordination for the fellow tobully his way back into it in Simon's absence and without his consent.It was typical of Sordello's infuriating combination of guile and gall.

  Simon reproached himself for not leaving clear orders on who was to leadthe crossbow troop when he left Sordello with them and was off to joinCount Charles in Rome. But his head and heart had been full of Sophiathen. Discipline demanded that he depose Sordello and reinstate Peppino.

  Yes, he thought, if he were intending to stay here, he would do exactlythat. But if he did it and then left again, it would probably onlyprovoke a duel to the death between Peppino and Sordello. Let things be.A few weeks from now, at most, he could forget the whole damned lot ofthem, Tartars and all.

  But Sordello's reemergence as leader of the crossbowmen raised anotherquestion: Would it offend the Armenians?

  They came now to wooden steps leading into the shadowy upper reaches ofde Verceuil's castle. Simon looked dubiously at them.

  "Trust me, Your Signory, as in any palace, the best apartments are onthe top floor."

  _Trust you? When God invites Lucifer to move back into heaven._

  And it was equally unlikely that de Verceuil would provide anythingtruly grand for Simon. He shrugged and let Sordello climb the woodensteps ahead of him.

  "What about the Armenian prince, Hethum? Does he still want your blood?"

  Sordello laughed and looked back over his shoulder. "All settled, YourSignory. I know Viterbo, as I know most of these Umbrian hill towns, andI entertained all the Armenians for a night and a day, at my expense.The best taverns, the best whorehouses. Hethum and I are friends now."

  One did not entertain so lavishly on the fifteen florins a monthSordello would receive as capitano of the archers. Doubtless he hadfound other ways to line his pockets.

  The mention of whorehouses reminded Simon of the plight of the girlRachel. He must find out if Friar Mathieu had done anything to help her.

  On the musty-smelling fourth floor of the cardinal's palace, Sordelloled Simon through five connected rooms. Two of them were bare offurniture, but Simon saw rumpled beds and traveling chests in the otherthree. In the last one a black-robed priest sat at a desk by a window,writing. He frowned at Simon and Sordello as if to reprove them fordisturbing him.

  "These are the good apartments?" Simon said when Sordello ushered himinto a bare chamber with a small bed in one corner and a smaller trundlebed beside it. The window was large, but covered by wooden shutters.Simon pushed them open to let in more light.

  Sordello shrugged. "This is truly the best available, Your Signory. Thecardinal has many people in his employ, and many guests. I would notleave those shutters open too long if I were you. Even though it is onlyApril, the flies and mosquitos are numerous already. A wet winter alwaysbrings them out."

  _Not worth the trouble to complain about the room. I won't be here thatlong._

  "Tell Friar Mathieu I am here, Sordello, and tell Thierry to have a hotbath sent up to me."

  "Yes, Your Signory. But unless you are willing to wait till midnight, Isuggest you go down to the kitchen for your bath. The cardinal'sservants are obedient to him and care not a fig for anyone else, andyour equerry will find none willing to carry a tub of hot water up fourflights of stairs."

  This was too much. "Now damn your lazy buttocks, Sordello! I am payingyou out of my own purse, and you have had no work to do since I left youin Perugia. You see that a hot bath reaches me by Vespers, or forget youwere ever in my service."

  Sordello's weather-beaten cheeks flushed, but he bowed and left.

  Simon leaned on the sill of his window, looking out over the tiledrooftops of Viterbo. All the buildings he could see were built of a darkgray stone, giving the place an ancient look even though, for all heknew, many houses might be quite recently built. This palace Cardinal deVerceuil had bought for himself seemed to occupy one of the highestpoints. Just as Perugia had been bigger than Orvieto, so Viterbo wasbigger than Perugia. Guards in the black and gold of the local militiapaced the high city wall from one massive tower to another. About twentyyears ago this city had withstood a siege by King Manfred's father,Emperor Frederic. That was one of the reasons, Simon had heard, thatCardinal le Gros, now Pope Clement, had chosen it.

  He heard a rhythmic thumping behind him, then a knock at his door. Heopened it to see Friar Mathieu, bent and thinner, his white beardsparser-looking, leaning on a walking stick. They hugged each other,Simon holding the old Franciscan gingerly.

  "The safest place on this floor to talk is the loggia," said FriarMathieu. "We can share our news there." He bowed to the priest in thenext room and greeted him by name and was answered with a grunt.

  "One of de Verceuil's large staff," said Friar Mathieu when they wereout of the priest's chamber. "It is no accident that his room is next toyours."

  "I am surprised de Verceuil lets you live here, Father."

  "His Eminence would rather have me far away, but Pope Clement insists Istay close to the Tartars. And there was a letter from King Louis sayingthe same. After all, people who speak the Tartars' language are scarcethis side of the Danube. And His Eminence may dislike me, but the kingand the pope both trust me. More, perhaps, than they trust him. So thecardinal put me in a cubbyhole near John and Philip, where I am quitecontent."


  They came to the stairs, where a doorway led out to the loggia. Thefloor was of red tile, and the walls and columns painted a pale green.Benches and potted trees just beginning to bud were set along theloggia. They were facing west, overlooking the courtyard. They sat on abench, their faces shaded by the overhanging roof, their knees and feetin the sunlight. Simon enjoyed the late afternoon warmth on his legs,tired from a week's riding. He looked forward to his bath.

  "I am sure Pope Clement himself will be eager to see you," said FriarMathieu. "I hear he has been deluging Count Charles with lettersdemanding to know when he will march against Manfred."

  "Count Charles does not have a big enough army yet to attack Manfred,"said Simon, thinking how glad he was to be away from the dour, drivencount. "And it seems that Manfred would rather wait for him to make thefirst move. Anjou says he will not be able to recruit more knights andmen until the pope officially gives him the crown of southern Italy andSicily."

  "His Holiness wants Charles to come to Viterbo to be crowned. He refusesto set foot in Rome."

  "Charles is determined to be crowned by the pope in Rome. He keepsmentioning that Charlemagne was crowned in Rome."

  Friar Mathieu smiled. "So, the fate of Italy is in the hands of threemen who are each unwilling to make a move." Sunlight turned his beard tosilver. "And what are your plans? Have you returned to us for good, orwill you go back to Count Charles?"

  At the thought of the prospect before him, Simon felt a warmth withinrivaling the afternoon sun. "Tell me, Father--where can I find CardinalUgolini's niece, Sophia?"

  Friar Mathieu's eyes seemed to sink deeper into the hollows under hiswhite brows. "Ugolini and Sophia are not here in Viterbo."

  Simon felt as if a wintry chill had fallen on the loggia. "What? Wherehave they gone?"

  "They never came here. None of us, not even the pope, realized Ugoliniwas gone until the day of the papal coronation, when he still had notappeared. It was a scandal. After all, Ugolini was cardinal camerlengounder Urban. Papa le Gros--Clement--was furious. The rumor is thatUgolini has fled to Manfred. The pope intends to strip him of his rankfor leaving the Papal States without permission."

  The pain of loss made Simon cry out, "But Sophia! What of Sophia?"

  Friar Mathieu shook his head sadly. "She must be with Ugolini. They areprobably both in Manfred's kingdom."

  Simon fell back against the plaster wall, gasping. "But--amessage--there must have been a message for me. She must have left someword."

  "With whom?" Friar Mathieu spread his hands. "She knows I am yourfriend, but I heard nothing from her."

  In all the time since he left Perugia, Simon's vision of Sophia, hisdreams of their life together, had sustained him. He thought constantlyof her during those dreary weeks while Count Charles was parading aroundRome, giving orders to sullen Italians, exercising his troops, arguingwith his captains, and hanging those who made difficulties.

  On a loggia much like this one, at Ugolini's Perugia mansion, Sophia hadmade the promise that had given him hope. All he needed, he was sure,was to know what stood between them, and he would be able to overcomeit.

  And now, as suddenly as if Sophia had been on a ship and a wave hadswept her overboard, she was gone.

  He felt himself getting angry at Friar Mathieu. He could not believewhat the old priest was telling him.

  "She promised me!" he blurted out.

  "Promised you what?" said Friar Mathieu softly.

  "That she would tell me why she could not marry me."

  There was a long silence, while Simon stared at the rooftops of Viterbo,silhouetted against a golden sky.

  "You wanted to marry her?" Friar Mathieu asked in a soft voice.

  "I _want_ to marry her," said Simon, his voice sullen.

  After another long pause he added, "I was hoping you would marry us."

  "Simon," said Friar Mathieu quietly. "How much do you really know aboutSophia?" Simon thought he heard pity in the old man's voice.

  He felt a twinge of fear, and inched away from the Franciscan. Almostagainst his will, his head turned toward Friar Mathieu. He felt himselfforced to repeat the little that Sophia had told him about herself sincethey met. The thought of that afternoon by the lake came to him,stabbing him like a spear. He would not tell Friar Mathieu about that,not yet. This was not confession.

  Friar Mathieu did not meet Simon's intent gaze, but looked downward, andSimon saw deep, shadowed pouches under his eyes.

  "Simon--you recall the girl Rachel."

  _What of her?_ Simon wondered, annoyed at the change of subject. Then heremembered.

  "It was Sophia who asked me to speak to you about Rachel."

  "Just so. I had already tried everything, including prayer, to get JohnChagan to free Rachel, but I could not move his heart. He prizes heralmost to the point of madness. But I did continue my efforts, becauseyou asked me to. I begged, appealed to his better nature--he does haveone--and threatened the fires of hell. Nothing worked. For a time, whenwe learned that Hulagu Khan had died, we thought that John and Philipwould have to go back to Persia. John even spoke of taking Rachel withhim and making her his chief wife. Do you have any idea what an honorthat would be for Rachel?"

  "No," said Simon impatiently, not caring.

  "Tartars take new wives and concubines, but their chief wives hold thatstatus for life--usually. For John to say he wants to supplant his chiefwife with Rachel shows the depth of his passion for the girl."

  "Father, what does all this have to do with Sophia?" Simon burst out.

  "I come to that now. I had long talks with Rachel to find out if shereally wanted to be rescued from the Tartar. She told me about her lifebefore she came to Orvieto, about what it was like in Tilia Caballo'sbrothel."

  "And?"

  "While we talked, Rachel let slip some things about Sophia that--I hateto hurt you, Simon, but she said things that made me think Sophia is notwhat she has seemed to be."

  Anger vibrated in Simon's voice. "I do not want to hear any brothelgossip. Rachel is a prostitute and a child. What could she know about awoman like Sophia?"

  He had an urge to get up and leave. But he realized that behind hisanger, and fanning it, lurked the fear of learning something he did notwant to know.

  Friar Mathieu put a gentle hand on Simon's arm. "Did you tell Sophiaabout Count Amalric's treason, and about who your real father is?"

  "Yes."

  "Because you wanted her to know you. If you love Sophia and want tomarry her, you have to know all about her. There is no other way."

  "But I want her to tell me, if there is anything to tell."

  "Perhaps she cannot."

  "Blood of Christ, why are you torturing me?"

  The old priest shook his head. "Do you understand that if there were anyway out of this conversation for me, I would take it?"

  Simon looked at the faded old eyes and saw the pain. "Yes."

  "I do not want to tell you what Rachel said. I respect her confidence.And I do not like passing on suspicions like this. Come and talk withher yourself."

  "Right now? Here in this palace?" Simon shivered with an inner cold.

  "Yes. De Verceuil and the Tartars have been invited to a supper at thePalazzo Papale. Rachel is alone in her room. I made sure of that alittle while ago."

  Feeling like a man going obediently to his own beheading, Simon said,"Let us go and talk to her, then."

  In the corridor, Simon saw Sordello and Thierry.

  "Your bath is ready, Monseigneur," said Thierry.

  "I will bathe later," said Simon, trying not to let the whirlwind of hisemotions show in his face.

  "There is no way to keep the water warm, Your Signory," said Sordello.

  "_Then let it freeze!_" Simon shouted. He turned away quickly andfollowed Friar Mathieu.

  * * * * *

  Simon at first did not see the small figure huddled in a far corner ofthe high, gauze-curtained bed. Rachel's room, on the flo
or belowSimon's, was much bigger than his. The outer wall, which curved slightlybecause it was part of the old temple, was lined with blue-veined whitemarble. A large window admitted dim light through oiled parchment andcurtains.

  "Rachel," said Friar Mathieu softly in Italian. "Here is the Count deGobignon, whom I told you of. He is in charge of the men who guardyour--protector. He is Madonna Sophia's friend. She has asked him to tryto help you."

  Simon felt a twinge of guilt. Could he be Sophia's friend if he wastrying to get Rachel to reveal Sophia's secrets? But Sophia haddisappeared without a word to him. If she had secrets, he had to knowthem, even if he had to deceive this child to get at them.

  But at the same time he desperately wanted to learn nothing about Sophiathat would hurt him.

  Rachel used a red ribbon to mark her place in the book she was reading,climbed down from her bed, and curtsied to Simon. Her skin was as whiteas the marble on the wall. She wore a pale blue gown. Her small breastspushed it out in front ever so slightly. Simon could see why Sophia hadkept referring to her as a child. He could not imagine how anyone, evena Tartar, could want to couple with so delicate-looking a creature.

  _Even with books to read and a spacious chamber, she must feel like aprisoner._

  He forgot his own anguish momentarily in pity for her plight. He wantedto take the wide-eyed girl gently in his arms and hold her.

  Simon and Friar Mathieu sat on small gold-painted chairs, and Rachel saton the edge of her bed. Simon racked his brain for a way to start theconversation. It must seem to be about Rachel, but it must tell himabout Sophia. He was not even sure what he was trying to find out.

  Even though he had not spoken and had tried to look friendly and notthreatening, he could imagine how much his presence must frighten her. AFrench count. To her that must almost be like being visited by a king.And she probably feared Christians anyway. If she decided she mustprotect Sophia from him, he would get nothing from her.

  Simon was grateful when Friar Mathieu cleared his throat and spoke.

  "Count Simon is anxious about your welfare, my dear," said the oldFranciscan. "He was quite surprised to learn that Cardinal Ugolini andMadonna Sophia had not followed the pope here to Viterbo. He waswondering whether Madonna Sophia had left some word with you about whereshe was going."

  Rachel shook her head. "I have not seen her since John took me fromMadama Tilia's house." Her black hair was wound in braids around herhead, exposing her small ears, made to look smaller still by the largegold hoops she wore in them. Similarly, a gold necklace with a jeweledpendant emphasized the slenderness of her neck. Her arms and handsseemed weighed down with bracelets and rings. The Tartar must beshowering her with gifts.

  "And Madonna Sophia gave no hint of her plans when she visited you atMadama Tilia's?"

  Friar Mathieu asked it as if it were the most natural question in theworld.

  _My God, what would Sophia be doing at Tilia Caballo's? At a brothel!_

  Simon felt his stomach clench. He did not want to hear Rachel's answer.

  "No, Father. The last thing she told me was that everyone would beleaving Orvieto soon. And when we did, I would not have to stay withMadama Tilia anymore. I begged her to take me back with her to CardinalUgolini's, but she said she could not. Later that day John came for me.I never spoke with Madonna Sophia again." She looked uneasily at Simon.

  Sophia had said she knew about the girl only through the gossip ofservants and townspeople. Could this girl be lying about having metSophia? But she would have no reason to do that. So it must have beenSophia who lied about never having met Rachel. He felt as if a daggerhad struck him in the back.

  And she had certainly never said anything about going to TiliaCaballo's. How could he learn the true connection between Sophia andRachel without making Rachel suspicious?

  "That is just it, Rachel," he said. "Things have been happening sorapidly, and I was away from the pope's court and the Tartar ambassadorsfor months. Sophia and I have not had time to talk to each other or tosend messages. But when I last saw her, she asked me to look after you.She cares very much for you."

  Rachel smiled faintly. Her lips were a pale pink. Her eyebrows wereblack and straight over her dark brown eyes, giving her an earnest look.

  "Oh, yes, Your Signory. I know she cares for me."

  "Are you also from Sicily, Rachel?" Simon asked. "Did you know Sophia'sfamily in Sicily?"

  "No, Your Signory. I am from Florence."

  Florence. Florence was controlled by the Ghibellini.

  "Does anyone in your family know you are here with this Tartar? Is thereanyone you would like me to get a message to?"

  Rachel's eyes widened and filled with tears. "They are all dead, YourSignory. And if any of them were living, I would rather be dead myselfthan have them know what has happened to me."

  "Then Sophia is the only friend you have in the world?" Simon waited amoment, then tried a blind guess. "Perhaps Sophia has gone back to theplace where you first met her."

  "No, no," said Rachel. Suddenly, she looked terrified. She shrank backfrom Simon.

  _She is dreadfully frightened_, Simon thought.

  Friar Mathieu was right. Sophia was hiding something. Anguish stabbedSimon again.

  "What is it, Rachel?" said Friar Mathieu. He shook his head at Simon.

  "If you want to help me, if you love her, just leave me alone. She waskind to me as no one else has ever been. She was my friend. Stop tryingto find out about her."

  What was this girl hiding? What was Sophia hiding? Simon felt as if hewere surrounded by enemies, all of them plunging their daggers into him.

  "Does a friend send a young girl like you to a brothel?" said FriarMathieu softly.

  This brought no reply from Rachel. She put her hands to her face andsobbed.

  Simon could bear no more. He stood up abruptly. He was torturing thisgirl. And in a way, she was torturing him.

  He said, "Rachel, we will leave now. I am sorry I frightened you. Intruth, I have no wish to hurt you. But, I--I am upset too. Listen to me.If you ever decide you want to get away from here, tell me. I will notlet John or Cardinal de Verceuil or anyone else stop you if you want tobe free."

  Rachel took her hands away from her face. "Where can I go? Tell me that,Your Signory. Where can I go?" Her eyes, rimmed with red from crying,were pools of darkness in her pale face. The sight of her tears madeSimon's own eyes burn.

  Friar Mathieu stood up, leaning heavily on his stick. He took Simon'sarm, whispered a good-bye to Rachel, and drew Simon out of the room.Silently they went back up to the top-floor loggia. Simon seethed andchurned, his mind full of confusion and pain.

  They sat together on a bench in the deepening twilight. The sun was downand the sky over the distant hills was copper-colored.

  "How clumsy I was," Simon said. "She will tell us nothing now."

  "You learned quite a bit," said Friar Mathieu, "if you think about whatshe told you."

  "I know this much," said Simon. "I have been a fool. Sophia has beenlying to me."

  "Everyone in love is a fool, Simon. The more in love, the more they wantto believe whatever the beloved tells them. Only a man or woman in lovewith God can be a fool without risk."

  From the distant walls of Viterbo, the guards called the hours to oneanother. Their long-drawn cries echoed against the stone buildingfronts.

  "What did you mean, think about what she told me?"

  Friar Mathieu sighed. "Rachel said that Sophia told her after they leftOrvieto she would not _have_ to stay with Tilia Caballo anymore. Rachelwas not at Caballo's of her own free will. And you may have noticed thatwhen I suggested that Sophia sent her there, she did not deny it."

  Simon felt another rush of anger at Friar Mathieu for trying to make himbelieve evil of Sophia. "Are you saying that Sophia forced that girlinto a brothel? Father, Sophia is too much of an innocent to be a partyto anything like that."

  But he remembered that moment of deepest intimacy they had shared lastautu
mn outside Perugia, the moment he had delighted in relivingthousands of times. She had surprised him with the suddenness of herpassion, with the swift, sure way she had guided him into taking her andhad taken pleasure from him. Of course, he had thought, she would knowwhat to do. She had been married. But surely a chaste widow who hadknown only one man in her life would have shown some hesitation, sometimidity, some inner struggle?

  Simon felt rage building up within him. He hated these doubts. He wantedto lash out at someone.

  Friar Mathieu's voice came to him again, mild but inexorable. "Rachelsaid she asked Sophia to take her _back_ to Ugolini's. Rachel must havelived at Ugolini's when she first came to Orvieto. If you say thatSophia could not have been the one who put Rachel in Caballo's house, Iaccept it. But Ugolini could have. Or David of Trebizond."

  "You will drive me mad. Stop going step by step like a schoolman. Ofwhat are you accusing Sophia?"

  Only his reverence for Friar Mathieu kept him from shaking the oldpriest.

  Friar Mathieu patted Simon's knee. "I am going step by step because Imyself am trying to think this out. And I want to be sure, for yoursake. Rachel knew something, or had learned something. So they put herin Caballo's brothel for safekeeping."

  "They?"

  "Ugolini. David of Trebizond. And Sophia, at the very least, must haveknown the reason, or she would not agree to let Rachel go to thebrothel. If Sophia knew so much, then perhaps--I say perhaps--she knewmore about Ugolini and David and their dealings than she admitted toyou. I keep thinking of that night at the Palazzo Monaldeschi when shedrew you to the atrium, conveniently for David of Trebizond, who wasgoading the Tartars into publicly embarrassing themselves. Was she asuninvolved then as she led you to believe?"

  Each of Friar Mathieu's sentences was another dagger blow, plunging deepinto Simon, sending agony through him, the sharp point searching out hisheart.

  Friar Mathieu was proceeding in the same painstaking way he had probedAlain's body until he discovered what killed him. Alain, whose murdererhad never been found, who had died outside Ugolini's mansion.

  _Alain! Oh, my God! Could she have known how he was killed?_

  _What had really been happening at Ugolini's mansion?_

  Simon bent double, digging his fingers into his skull. His head mightburst apart if he did not hold it tightly. Could all the love he thoughthe had found in her be a lie? Could she be an _enemy_?

  "You are destroying my life," he muttered, his hands over his face.

  He felt the light touch of the old man's hand on his shoulder. "When aleg wound festers, the surgeon has to cut the leg off to save the man'slife."

  _And the old soldiers tell me the man always dies anyway_, Simon thoughtbitterly.

  "I am doing this not just for you, Simon," Friar Mathieu went on. "Therewas a secret war being waged in Orvieto to prevent us from allyingourselves with the Tartars. The person behind it was probably KingManfred of Sicily, who wants to keep Charles d'Anjou out of Italy.Ugolini was Manfred's agent. And Sophia may have been Ugolini's weaponagainst you."

  _No! Impossible! I love her. I could not love her if she were on theside of evil._

  Simon struck his knee with his fist. "I must find out the truth. I mustgo after her."

  "After Sophia?"

  "Yes. If she is in Manfred's kingdom, I will find her and get her out."

  "Whatever Sophia has done, she has already done, Simon. You cannot undoit, or simply pretend that she has done nothing at all."

  Simon lurched to his feet. Staggering in his agony, as if those kniveswere still striking him from all sides, he reached the railing of theloggia and gripped it. The sky had deepened to violet, and a singlesilvery star glowed in the west. He remembered the magic his mother hadtaught him of wishing on a star. He could not wish this awful pain away.

  "I do not know what she has done. And I refuse to believe ill of heruntil I have spoken to her."

  "But you cannot go into Manfred's kingdom and look for her. You arecertain to be caught and imprisoned. You could very well be killed."

  Simon turned. Friar Mathieu was a dim figure huddled in the deep shadowsof the loggia, his beard a light patch in the darkness.

  "You think Manfred is behind all this," Simon said.

  "Yes. Look you, when Urban died and Clement was elected--it was theletter you carried from King Louis that broke the cardinals'stalemate--Ugolini and Sophia saw they could do no more at the papalcourt, and they left. Maybe they were afraid they would be discovered."

  Manfred. Simon knew little about King Manfred. Up to now he had hardlyany reason to dislike him, and so had no reason to join Count Charles inmaking war on him.

  Now all was changed. It plainly had to be to Manfred that Sophia hadfled. And if Sophia had betrayed him, she must be serving Manfred.

  And Mathieu was right. He could not go alone into Manfred's kingdom andbring Sophia out. If she had lied and betrayed him, she not only wouldrefuse to come with him, she doubtless would betray him again, and hewould end up a prisoner.

  But there was another way he could go after Sophia.

  With an army at his back.

  Yes, he would go to Gobignon and send out his heralds. He would summonhis vassals to a council of war at the chateau. Then, after the harvestwas in, he would ride forth under the purple and gold banner of thethree crowns with all the power of Gobignon behind him.

  He would find Sophia if he had to tear Manfred's kingdom apart to do it.Find her and get the truth. As his wife or as prisoner, she would behis!