kes. He
alone escaped. He went to Damietta, supposedly to take charge of the
defense. He made a secret promise to the Sultan of Cairo to deliver
Damietta, together with the ransom money, if the sultan would slay the
king and all the other captive crusaders."

Friar Mathieu gasped. "Why in God's name would a French nobleman do such
dreadful things?"

"With the king and his brothers dead, he would be the most powerful man
in France," said Simon. "He might have succeeded, but for two things.
First, the Mameluke emirs, led by the same Baibars who now rules Egypt,
rose in revolt and killed the sultan with whom Count Amalric was
bargaining. Baibars and the Mamelukes preferred to deal honorably with
their prisoners."

"Ah, yes, Baibars," Friar Mathieu nodded. "The Tartars hate him and all
of Outremer fears him."

"And then a knight-troubadour captured along with the king, one who had
an old grudge against the Count de Gobignon, offered to go to Damietta
and meet the count in single combat. After a fierce combat he slew Count
Amalric. The king and the surviving crusaders were saved and they
ransomed themselves. The troubadour's name was Roland de Vency."

"I never heard of him," said Friar Mathieu.

"No, just as you never heard of Count Amalric's treason. The king wanted
the whole episode buried in an unmarked grave along with the count."

There was silence between them for a moment. Simon listened to the cart
wheels creak and looked up at the moon painting the Umbrian hillsides
silver. Soon they would round a bend and see the lights of Orvieto.

Simon, torn by anguish, wondered what Friar Mathieu thought of him. Did
he despise him, as so many great nobles did? He remembered that Friar
Mathieu had once been a knight himself. How could he not hate a man with
Amalric de Gobignon's blood in him? His muscles knotted as he waited to
hear what Friar Mathieu would say.

He looked at the old Franciscan and saw sadness in his watery eyes.

"But what happened does not lie buried, much as the king and you would
wish it to."

Simon felt tears sting his eyes and a lump grow in his throat. He
remembered the sneers, the slights, the whispers he had endured. Such
heartbreaking moments were among his earliest memories.

He shook his head miserably. "No. What happened has never been
forgotten."

"You are ashamed of the name you bear." The kindness in Friar Mathieu's
voice evoked a warm feeling in Simon's breast.

_I was not mis