ound and seize the entire College of Cardinals. He will force
them to elect the pope of his choice. We will lose the Papacy."

"We do not _own_ the Papacy."

Charles leaned back, laughing without mirth. "Well, Manfred will own the
Papacy if we do not stop him. And then you can forget about your Tartar
alliance. You can probably forget about crusading altogether. A pope
controlled by the Hohenstaufen would probably forbid you to crusade,
under pain of excommunication. Do not forget, it was Manfred's father,
Emperor Frederic, who made a treaty with the Sultan of Cairo."

Simon watched Louis closely to see what effect Charles's words were
having. It was obvious that they were sinking in. A troubled frown drew
Louis's pale brows together and tightened his mouth. Simon's heart began
to beat faster as his hopes rose.

Charles went on. "If I go now, I go at the pope's invitation. And if
Urban dies--"

Louis made a reverent sign of the cross. "If it be God's will, Charles."

"Yes, yes, if it be God's will that this pope dies, I will already be in
Italy," Charles said. "I can be in Rome, athwart Manfred's path, and he
will not be able to intimidate the College of Cardinals when they elect
the next pope. You must let me go into Italy to protect our interests.
Or else give up your dream of Jerusalem."

A long moment of silence passed, Louis staring into Charles's eyes.

Louis held up a finger. "I will not declare war on Manfred. If you go,
this is entirely your doing, and that of the pope."

_We've won! The king has given in!_ Simon, wild with joy inside, forced
himself to sit silent.

Charles did not look as pleased as Simon felt. "But, if you don't
declare war, where will I get the knights and men?"

Louis held up a second finger. "You will get them yourself. I will not
provide them. You will have to hire them. And if Manfred beats your
army, I will not send more men to rescue you."

Charles shrugged. "Well, I have the best tax collectors in Europe."

Louis raised a third finger. "You will forget about Provence."

Charles looked outraged. "Forget about--" he sputtered.

Louis raised a finger. "Charles, I will not let you have both Sicily and
Provence. You want too much."

Charles sighed. "Very well. Let Provence go to Tristan. You have put me
in a position where I will desperately need the taxes Provence would
yield. But I will make do somehow."

"I am sure you will," said Louis. "If you have to sell all the c