ng not just at Marseilles, but at Aigues-Mortes, whence we
can travel north through the Rhone valley." Simon noticed the "we" but
said nothing. "It takes on a cargo of woolen cloth and silk and spices
this afternoon, and it leaves tomorrow at sunup. We can board our
animals and sleep on the ship tonight."

"How much will this cost--us--Sordello?" said Simon, his improved mood
making him feel a bit like joking.

A quick glance from Sordello's bloodshot eyes showed he understood that
Simon understood. "Thirty florins, Your Signory. Oh, and I promised him
an additional forty-five florins when we get to Aigues-Mortes. That
little extra after the passage helps guarantee that you get where you
want to go."

Thierry whistled. "Seventy-five florins! We could buy five more horses
for that."

Sordello shrugged. "But more horses would not get you as far and as fast
as that ship will. And it is no more than Count Simon would have had to
pay if he had done the bargaining himself."

"Less," Simon admitted. In his desperation he had actually been thinking
of offering Guibert a flat hundred florins.

_Wait! What is happening here?_ he asked himself suddenly. When he had
first seen Sordello this morning, he had fully intended to turn him away
here in Livorno. Now he was paying his passage to France. Again he was
being taken advantage of.

He leaned forward suddenly, planting his folded arms on the table.

"But why must I take you, Sordello, eh? What further use are you to me?
Can I not save some florins if I leave you on the dock here?"

Sordello looked pained, brushing the curly gray hair back from his
forehead. "What I have just accomplished shows Your Signory how useful I
can be."

"Thus far you have nearly ruined my mission by attempting to murder an
Armenian prince--"

"That was more than a year ago, Your Signory."

"And you have failed to learn anything useful as my agent in Ugolini's
household."

"Your Signory! If not for me, you would have been totally unprepared for
the attack on the Monaldeschi palace."

Simon saw that Sordello's rough skin was reddening. His bad temper was
threatening to break through.

It was true, though, that Sordello's warning about the Filippeschi
attack by itself made up for all the man's misdeeds.

The mention of Ugolini's household brought back the pain of that
parting from Sophia. He pictured again that dizzying moment when he
almost possessed her, remembered how he had poured ou