d at having this help,
looked just as vexed.

_Friar Mathieu outshines the cardinal, and he is furious._

"We have been told that the Tartars plan to conquer the whole world,"
said d'Aquino.

"For a time they thought they could," Friar Mathieu nodded. "But the
world surprised them by going on and on, and now their empire is so huge
they cannot hold it together. And they are such innocents, the nations
they conquer are destroying them. They die in great numbers of the
diseases of cities. In their prairie homeland they were not familiar
with the strong wine drunk by farmers and city folk, and now many of
their leaders die untimely deaths of drink. Also, as they grow wealthier
and more powerful, they fight over the spoils they have taken. When they
invaded Europe they were still united, and they were able to throw all
their strength into that war. But now they have broken into four almost
independent nations. So divided and extended, they are much less of a
danger to Christendom."

How could they hold their empire together, thought Simon, when they had
been nothing but ignorant herdsmen a generation ago? Mathieu's discourse
made sense.

"So," said Fra Tomasso, "we are no longer dealing with a giant, but with
a creature closer to our own size."

"Yes," said Mathieu, "and the proof is that only a few years ago, for
the first time anywhere in the world, the Tartars lost a great battle.
They were defeated by the Mamelukes of Egypt at a place called the Well
of Goliath in Syria. If Hulagu's army had won that battle, the Tartars
would be in Cairo, and they might be demanding our submission instead of
offering us an alliance."

"But you think it is safe for us to ally ourselves with them now?"

Friar Mathieu looked sad and earnest. "If we and the Tartars make war on
the Mamelukes separately, we will be defeated separately. And then, as
sure as winter follows summer, the Mamelukes will take the few cities
and castles and bits of land our crusaders still hold in Outremer, and
all those generations of blood spilled for God and the Holy Sepulchre
will have been in vain."

Now Simon's relief was total. He felt like singing for joy. He was on
the right side after all.

Friar Mathieu stopped speaking and there was silence in the hall.
Gradually the prelates began talking. But there were no shrill outbursts
from those who opposed the alliance. The voices of all were subdued,
respectful.

The pope beckoned Friar Mathieu to