se from his saddle and then left Thierry to unload and stable the
animals. He and Sordello hurried through the rain to the front door of
the palace.

Simon identified himself to the steward, who conducted him, with much
solicitude about the bad weather, to the sala maggiore of the palace.
In the great hall, Simon was glad to see a fire of logs burning on a
stone hearth under a chimney opening. He headed for it, throwing his
sopping cloak and leather hat to the stone floor. Let the servants pick
them up. Riding all day in the rain had made him irritable.

"Simon!" Friar Mathieu was shuffling toward him, leaning heavily on a
walking stick. The old Franciscan's painfully slow movements alarmed
him. Simon put his arms about him, but gently.

"Are you feeling worse, Father?"

"The weather is reminding my bones that they were cracked not long ago.
I have a fire on the hearth in my room upstairs. Come up with me and you
can get out of those wet clothes."

Simon sent Sordello to the kitchen and, still carrying the leather case,
followed Friar Mathieu up a long flight of stone steps.

Wrapped in a blanket, seated on a bench before the fire in Friar
Mathieu's chamber with a cup of hot spiced wine in his hand, he began to
feel more comfortable, and he told the old priest about his journey back
to Italy from Avignon.

"King Louis dismissed me on the twentieth of September. I paid fifty
livres for a fast galley to Livorno. Then we rode our horses almost to
death through the hills to get here. It took us less than two weeks.
Very good time, but not good enough."

Simon paused. He remembered the old pope so vividly, writing letters
furiously and dispatching them hither and yon, feeling surrounded by
enemies on all sides and knowing he was going to die. He had so wanted
to bring the Holy Father good news. Now Pope Urban was no more, and
Simon was deeply disappointed.

_But surely he is happier out of all this turmoil. He is with God and at
peace now._

"And what news do you bring?" said Friar Mathieu.

Simon leaned toward him enthusiastically. "The pope's last wish has been
granted! King Louis has agreed to let his brother Charles make war on
King Manfred."

Instead of looking delighted as Simon had expected, Friar Mathieu
surprised him by sighing and staring into the fire.

"Are you not pleased?" Simon prodded him.

"Pleased about a war?" Friar Mathieu's eyes were sad under his
snow-white brows.

Simon felt as if h