n turned to look back at the
Tartars. Little points of candlelight were reflected in their black
eyes, and their brown faces were tight. Simon could imagine what would
happen to anyone, holy man or not, who spoke out against them so in
their own camp.

The stout Dominican stretched an arm in a flowing white sleeve toward
the still, mail-clad body on the red bier. "It may be asked, why do I
speak of such things on this sad day, when we mourn a young man cruelly
struck down in youth? I answer that this young man came here and died
here because Christendom is now faced with this great moral dilemma.
What we owe this young man, what we owe any man who dies in the
performance of his duty, is to do our own duty."

"Enough! Sit down!" came a hoarse whisper from Simon's left, and he
turned to see de Verceuil half out of his chair, fists clenched. It had
been de Verceuil who had wanted Fra Tomasso, as the most distinguished
speaker in Orvieto, to deliver the funeral sermon. And doubtless it was
the cardinal's heavy-handed dealing with Fra Tomasso that had provoked
this particular sermon. And now de Verceuil was trying publicly to
silence Fra Tomasso, making more enemies for their cause.

Fra Tomasso turned in the cardinal's direction, then once again slowly
shut his eyes and slowly opened them as he turned away. He went on
speaking.

"And perhaps God has taken this young man from us to remind us how many
other innocent lives may be lost if we wage war unwisely."

* * * * *

Simon and the other five French knights turned the red-draped wooden
pallet so that Alain's head was toward the altar and his feet toward the
church door. The weight had not bothered Simon carrying Alain into the
church, but now the burden seemed twice as heavy. He was afraid, as he
descended the stairs in front of the cathedral, one worn stone step at a
time, that his knees might buckle and he might spill Alain to the
ground. He would be anxious until he got Alain back on the cart that
would carry him to his final resting place in the cemetery on a hill to
the north of Orvieto's great rock.

_And where will I go?_

Trying to get de Verceuil to change Fra Tomasso's mind had been a
serious error in judgment. Every important churchman and official in
Orvieto had heard the greatest thinker in Christendom attack the plan of
Christians and Tartars waging war together on the Saracens. What would
happen now?

_Nothing._