ippeschi were attacking now because he was at the Palazzo
Monaldeschi, then indeed he had a quarrel with them, whether or not he
wanted one. And it was his fault, in a sense, that the contessa was in
danger.

"Betraying Italy to the French? What does that mean?"

Sordello ticked off points on his fingers. "The pope is French. He asks
the contessa to take the Tartars into her house. Then you and Cardinal
de Verceuil come with the Tartars. And now everyone has heard that the
pope wants Charles d'Anjou to come in and take Sicily and southern Italy
from King Manfred. The Filippeschi want to turn the tide now, they say,
before the French own all of Italy."

The face of Uncle Charles flashed vividly before Simon's mind, the big
nose, the staring eyes. When they had talked of this mission over a year
ago at the Louvre, he had said nothing of Sicily, had spoken only of the
liberation of Jerusalem and the destruction of Islam. Was Sicily what he
really wanted--or perhaps even all of Italy?

What should he do? It struck Simon with frightening force that there was
no one but he to take the responsibility. He was in command. He must
make the plans and the decisions. His heart thudded frantically, and he
prayed that Sordello could not see the consternation that filled him.

"What forces do they have, what weapons?"

Sordello shook his head. "As to that, Your Signory, I know very little.
I have been at Cardinal Ugolini's mansion, not among the Filippeschi. I
would guess they must have at least five hundred men and siege weapons.
They would be mad to start this thing with less."

"Five hundred men and siege weapons!"

Simon pictured the Monaldeschi palace with its great tower crumbling
under a bombardment of boulders. He saw men swarming over it like ants.
He saw the defenders lying dead in the ruins--de Puys, Thierry, the
Armenians, the Venetians--himself. He saw the Tartars with their throats
cut.

Again he felt the urge to run back to the palace to prepare at once.
Again he suppressed the urge so he could ask more questions.

"Where did they get such forces?"

Sordello shrugged. "They are a big family. They have relatives in the
outlying towns."

Simon bent down to look deep into Sordello's bloodshot eyes. "Are you
sure Ugolini and David of Trebizond and the rest are not involved? If we
French and the Tartars are the provocation, Ugolini must be behind
this."

Sordello tapped his cheek just under his right eye. "You