falcon's
beak, and her eyes glittered.

Simon said, "With respect, Contessa, they must have more men than you
do. I was told they might have five hundred. And siege machines."

They were seated in the small council room of the Monaldeschi
palace--Simon, the contessa, de Verceuil, Sire Henri de Puys, and Friar
Mathieu--around a circular table of warm brown wood.

"But surely we have better men," said Henri de Puys in French. "What
sort of fighters could these Philippe-whatever-they-are muster?
Routiers, highwaymen?"

Friar Mathieu turned to de Verceuil. "Might I suggest that Your Eminence
use your influence with Pope Urban. Perhaps his holiness can stop this
battle."

"Yes," said de Verceuil. "I will try to speak to him. But he is sick,
and pays little attention to anything."

_Probably de Verceuil is annoyed because he did not think first of going
to the pope._

"I should think it would endanger his health even more if a war broke
out in Orvieto," said Friar Mathieu.

"I will _see_ him," said de Verceuil. "But I will also arm myself and my
men to help defend this place."

Simon expected de Verceuil to next propose himself as commander of the
defense, but, to his delight, the cardinal had nothing more to say. Then
the suspicion crossed his mind that de Verceuil did not want to have to
take the blame in case of defeat.

"Grazie, Your Eminence," said the contessa.

Simon said, "I must go to Signore d'Ucello. Surely the podesta will not
let civil war break out in the city he governs."

The contessa laughed, a knowing cackle. "Go to him if you like, but you
waste your time. He cannot--will not--stop the Filippeschi. He has
Filippeschi relatives, you know. But he could not stop me, either, if I
chose to attack them."

Friar Mathieu said, "Perhaps we should take the ambassadors to the papal
palace. That would get them out of harm's way until this is over."

Simon's body went rigid. The Tartars were his responsibility. He would
never give them up to the pope's men-at-arms.

"No!" he said. "The duty of guarding them is mine, and I will surrender
it to no one."

De Puys struck the table with his open palm. "Bravely spoken,
Monseigneur."

Friar Mathieu sighed.

De Verceuil pointed a finger at Simon. "Count, you have no right to risk
the ambassadors' lives just for your own glory."

Simon looked around the table. He was the youngest person here, and they
were treating him like a child. He remembered the D