s here in the chapel
attached to the royal palace, but the building still amazed him. The
walls seemed to be all glass, filled with light, glowing with colors
bright as precious stones. What held the chapel up? Pierre de Montreuil,
the king's master builder, had patiently explained the principles of the
new architecture to Simon, but though Simon understood the logic of it,
the Sainte Chapelle, most beautiful of the twenty-three churches of the
Ile de la Cite, still looked miraculous to him.

The mass ended and the celebrants proceeded down the nave of the chapel
two by two, dividing when they came to King Louis as the Seine divides
to flow around the Cite, each canon and chaplain bowing as he passed the
prone figure.

When they were all gone, King Louis slowly began to push himself to his
feet. Simon hurried to help him, gripping his right arm with both hands.
The king's arm was thin, but Simon felt muscles like hard ropes moving
under his hands. Though almost fifty, the king still, Simon knew,
practiced with his huge two-handed sword in his garden. Age had not
weakened him, though a mysterious lifelong ailment sometimes forced him
to take to his bed.

Louis looked pained. "This is not one of my good days for walking. Let
me lean on you."

Simon was grateful for the chance to help King Louis. The vest of coarse
horsehair that Louis wore next to his body to torment his flesh--as
penance for what faults, Simon could not imagine--creaked as he
straightened up. He put his arm over Simon's shoulder, and Simon passed
an arm around his narrow waist. He looked down at Simon with round, sad
eyes. His nose was large, but blade-thin, his cheeks sunken in.

"Let us visit the Crown of Thorns," he said, pointing to the front of
the chapel, the apse.

Louis was leaning all his weight on Simon as they walked slowly up to
the wooden gallery behind the altar where the Crown of Thorns reposed.
Even so, the king felt light. How could a man be at once so strong and
so fragile, Simon wondered.

There was barely room on the circular wooden stairway for them to climb
side by side. As they stood before the sandalwood chest containing the
reliquary, Louis took his arm from Simon's shoulders. He took two keys
from the purse at his plain black belt and used one to open the doors of
the chest. Inner doors of gold set with jewels blazed in the light from
the stained glass windows.

Louis opened the second set of doors with the other key a