rd belt, and he sat with his fists clenched in his lap.

De Verceuil strode across the room and stood over Simon. "I may yet
demand that you be sent home. I cannot imagine why the Count of Anjou
entrusted such a stripling with a mission of this importance."

"Your Eminence may not approve of my visiting Cardinal Ugolini," Simon
said, keeping his voice firm, "but can you show me where I have done
wrong?" He did not want to talk about Ugolini; he wanted to find out
where the Tartars were. But de Verceuil had not even given him time to
ask.

"You could have gone wrong in a thousand ways," said de Verceuil,
staring down at Simon. "Both the king and Count Charles have confided in
you. Rashly, I believe. You might have revealed more about their
intentions than you should have."

Simon remembered how Ugolini had reacted at once to the idea that the
purpose of the alliance was to conquer Islam completely. Saying that
might indeed have been a blunder. He felt his face grow hot.

Discomfort and anger pushed Simon to his feet. De Verceuil had to take a
step backward.

"Why have you allowed the ambassadors to go riding in the hills with
only six men to escort them?" Simon demanded. "That is negligence, Your
Eminence. A good deal more dangerous than my visit to Cardinal Ugolini.
Where have they gone?"

De Verceuil whirled, the heavy gold cross on his chest swinging, and
paced to the mullioned window, then turned to face Simon again. His
face, a deep crimson, seemed to glow in the light that came in through
the translucent glass.

"Guarding the ambassadors is your responsibility, Count." He spoke in a
low, relentless tone. "I did not bother to inquire where they were
going. If you think they should not have gone out into the countryside,
you should have been here to stop them." His voice rose to a shout. "Not
waiting upon Cardinal Ugolini!"

Simon's face grew hot with shame. De Verceuil had him.

Even if he had not done anything wrong by visiting Ugolini, he should
have first made sure the ambassadors would be safe while he was gone. He
could have left explicit orders with Henri de Puys or with Alain de
Pirenne.

"I will go after them now." Simon started for the door.

"I have not dismissed you."

Rage boiled up within Simon. "I am the Count de Gobignon. Only the king
can command me."

De Verceuil crossed the room to thrust his face into Simon's once again.
"God can command you, young man, and the Cardinal-Archbisho