That snake!"

The Franciscan reached over and laid his fragile hand lightly on
Simon's. "Hush, Simon. The cardinal will answer to God one day for his
worldly ways."

Simon shook his head. "I tell you, Friar Mathieu, between Ugolini's
persuasion and de Verceuil's bullying, I was nearly ready to leave
Orvieto today."

But he would not have left under any circumstances, he knew. Especially
not after meeting Sophia. He recalled her smoldering eyes and full red
lips. And her splendid breasts. Ah, no, he must stay in Orvieto and
become better acquainted with Sophia Orfali.

XVIII

A swollen yellow moon appeared over the treetops, and Simon was grateful
for its light. Now they would have less trouble following the road.

Friar Mathieu said, "It is not an easy thing for so young a man to match
wits with two powerful churchmen skilled in dialectic. I congratulate
you on doing it at all."

Simon felt a hollow in his stomach. He saw himself going back to France,
sneered at not only for his family's disgrace but for his own
incompetence.

"Our mission _must_ succeed," he said, clenching his fist. His voice
rose above the creak of the wagon wheels, surprising even himself with
his vehemence.

"God has His own ideas about what ought to succeed or fail," said Friar
Mathieu. "Do not try to take the whole burden on yourself."

"I must," said Simon, feeling tears burn his eyes.

The voice in the semidarkness beside him was soft, kindly. "Why _must_?"

"Because of who I am," Simon said in a low voice.

"What do you mean, Simon?"

_Can I tell him_, Simon wondered. Ever since, seven years ago, his
mother and Roland had told him the secret of his birth, questions of who
he really was, questions of right and wrong, had assailed him, and there
had been no one to ask. He loved his mother and he admired Roland, but
they were too close to it all. But to tell anyone else would bring
calamity down on all three of them.

There had been times during the years Simon had lived with King Louis
that the king had seemed ready to listen. But Simon had also known that
King Louis believed in doing right no matter whom it hurt.

Friar Mathieu, though, seemed to have more of a sense that life was not
a matter of simple rights and wrongs. He could see the Tartars for the
ferocious creatures they were, and yet feel kindly toward them. His
wisdom and worldly experience could help Simon sort things out.

Then, too, there was a way to