ery church in Orvieto, and before each Alain's
body was blessed by two or three cardinals, who then with their
entourages joined the long line of mourners. Looking back over his
shoulder, Simon could no longer see the end of the procession. It
disappeared around a distant turning in the street.

Not all Orvietans were without feeling. Many girls and young women wept,
waved their handkerchiefs, and threw flowers from balconies to the
handsome Frenchman, murdered in his prime. Alain would have welcomed
more attention from them when he was alive, Simon thought bitterly.

At the convent of the Dominicans, a collection of brown stone buildings
behind a high wall, the rotund Fra Tomasso d'Aquino emerged, followed by
two dozen or more of his Dominican brothers, all in white wool tunics
with black mantles. Three of the leading members of the preaching
friars, the superior general, the father visitor for northern Italy, and
the prior of the convent blessed the body. Fra Tomasso was to deliver
the funeral sermon, a great honor for Alain. It must be downright
painful for the fat friar to walk from his convent to the cathedral;
that was an honor in itself.

But the sight of Fra Tomasso made Simon cold with anxiety, remembering
how Sophia had told him that the stout Dominican had turned against the
Tartars.

The one thing that might, even if only in a small way, make up for the
infinite tragedy of Alain's death, was that important piece of
information Sophia had unwittingly given Simon. And when Simon had told
it to Friar Mathieu, the old Franciscan, feeling he had no choice, had
taken the news to de Verceuil. Simon hated to see him do that, but he
had to agree that de Verceuil was the only one in their party whose
position was exalted enough to permit him to make demands on Fra
Tomasso.

De Verceuil had paid a call on the superior general of the Dominicans,
but what went on behind the walls of the preaching friars' convent Simon
and Friar Mathieu had never learned. In his usual infuriating way, de
Verceuil had refused to talk about it.

At the gateway to his palace, Pope Urban, all in gold and white, met the
procession. As Simon dismounted and knelt on the stone street to receive
the pope's blessing, he noted that the old man's face was as pale as his
vestments, and that his hands were trembling. Had Alain's murder
affected him so, or was he ill? Urban was flanked by six cardinals in
broad-brimmed red hats and brilliant red