e such worries.

At the far end of the room a long flight of marble steps swept up to an
enormous gilded throne, empty at present. Down the center of the steps
ran a purple carpet, and over the carpet lay a wide strip of white
linen.

Two rows of high-backed pews faced each other on either side of the
throne. Between them was a table laid with rolls of parchment, an
inkstand, and a sheaf of quills. The pews were as yet empty, but around
them stood cardinals in bright red robes with flat, broad-brimmed red
hats--some of them Simon remembered seeing at the cathedral two weeks
before. Farther removed from the throne and more numerous were the
purple-robed archbishops and bishops. Scattered around the hall were
priests, monks, and friars in black, white, brown, and gray. There must
be nearly a hundred men in the room, Simon guessed. The air was filled
with a buzz of conversation.

He felt the hollow in his stomach and the trembling in his knees that
disturbed him whenever he entered a roomful of strangers. And these
strangers were, most of them, the spiritual lords of the Church. He
looked for a place where he could stand inconspicuously. He dared not
speak to anyone. He felt as if a frown from one of these men would be
enough to send him into disordered retreat.

And suddenly before him there was the frowning face of Cardinal Paulus
de Verceuil. The wide red hat with its heavy tassels seemed precariously
balanced on his head. His gold pectoral cross was set with emeralds and
rubies. The buttons that ran down the front of his scarlet cassock,
Simon noticed, were embroidered with gold thread.

"What the devil are you doing here?"

Simon cast about wildly in his mind for a sensible answer. Nothing he
could say, he was sure, would win this cardinal's approval.

"I--I feel it is important that I know what is decided here, Your
Eminence."

"These deliberations are no business of yours. Your duty is to protect
the ambassadors. You have deserted your post."

Stung, Simon wished de Verceuil were not an ordained priest and a prince
of the Church, so that he could challenge him. That he could do nothing
about de Verceuil's accusation infuriated him.

"The Tartars are safely at the Monaldeschi palace guarded by all of our
knights and men-at-arms. When Count Charles d'Anjou laid this task upon
me, I understood that I was to help advance the alliance with the
Tartars. I cannot do that if I am kept in ignorance." After a paus