face grew hot with
embarrassment.

XXXVI

"Canaglia! Give way or I will have your heart on a platter!"

Hearing the shout, Simon stifled a curse and turned to see arms waving,
a man in helmet and leather chest armor fall back, pushed by another.
The man shouting and pushing was Peppino, one of Simon's Venetian
crossbowmen. The man Peppino had knocked down was Grigor, one of the
Tartars' bodyguards.

_No, dear God, not today!_

Sunk in grief though he was, he would have to do something. For Alain.
That today of all days, the day of Alain's funeral, might not be marred
by brawling.

From his seat atop a black-caparisoned stallion in the gateway of the
Monaldeschi courtyard, he looked down on a boiling mass of bright
conical helmets, all of them now moving toward the action in the center
of the yard. He kicked his horse's flanks and drove into the crowd. He
had to break up the fight before it started.

The Armenian was on his feet and reaching for his dagger. And Peppino
had his hand on the hilt of his own blade. Before Simon could reach
them, Teodoro, whom Simon had appointed capitano of the crossbowmen
after dismissing Sordello, forced his way between the two men. He turned
his back on the Armenian and gave Peppino a violent shove with both
hands.

"Stupido! Back in line!"

"What devil's work is this?" Simon demanded.

Teodoro turned and saluted Simon smartly. "Your Signory, Peppino is a
fool. But the Armenians provoked him. They insist on marching before us
in the cortege. Are we not to march behind the French knights?"

Idiots! What difference did it make? They had forgotten that this parade
was for Alain; they thought it was for them. He felt a dull hatred for
both the Venetians and the Armenians.

Simon sent for Ana, the multilingual Bulgarian woman, who translated for
the Armenians Simon's explanation that the French knights must ride as
an honor guard directly behind Alain's bier, and that since the
Venetians were directly under the command of the French, they must come
next. Also, no one must come between the Tartar ambassadors and their
Armenian bodyguards; therefore the Venetians must precede the Armenians.

"Sergentes, get your men back into line!" Simon shouted at the leaders
of the hundred Monaldeschi men-at-arms milling about in the courtyard
along with the Venetians and the Armenians.

Simon spurred his horse back to the head of the procession, where he
took his position just beh