on rearing up on its hind legs against a flame-red
background. Charles turned so that his big Capetian nose was outlined
against the iron-gray sky.

"You complain, du Mont, because I ordered our knights to wear full
armor?" said Charles. "I did it for their own protection. I expect to
meet resistance."

_Only eight hundred knights and two thousand men-at-arms_, Simon
thought. _Hardly enough to take Rome, if the Romans do decide to fight.
Nowhere near enough to beat Manfred._

He had been shocked when he arrived at Ostia last night and found out
how small Charles's invasion force was. Being a part of this war was
going to be downright dangerous.

"Time enough for us to don armor when the resistance appears," said
Alistair FitzTrinian, a knight from England whose face was a mass of
smallpox scars. Simon had so far been unable to look at the man without
having to freeze the muscles of his face to keep from wincing.

Count Charles sighed, and held out his arm in the direction of Rome.
"Look there, gentlemen," he said in a patient tone, as if instructing
schoolchildren. "The Romans are not waiting for us to put on our armor."

Simon followed his pointing finger and saw a gray mass spreading out
into the field near one of the city's gates, flowing around cottages and
groves of trees. It appeared to be a great crowd of several thousand
citizens. Fully alert now, Simon heard a dull roar, like the hum of a
swarm of bees, that sounded decidedly hostile. He felt a twinge of fear.

"Get your helmets on, the three of you," Charles snapped. "Set an
example for the rest, or may the devil carry you away!"

The three commanders slowly and sullenly pulled on their helmets, which
had been hanging down their backs from straps under their chins. The
manner of the three marshals toward Count Charles shocked Simon. If
these were the leaders, what In God's name could the rank and file be
like?

_Any one of my Venetian archers or the Tartars' Armenian guards would be
worth a dozen of these._

As the army of Anjou, with Charles and Simon and the three marshals in
the lead, advanced slowly, Simon noticed that six or so men, several
hundred paces in front of the shouting citizens, were walking to meet
them.

In a short time the small delegation stood before Count Charles,
blocking his path.

Charles raised his arm, and the knights behind him shouted the order to
halt down the line. How would Count Charles deal with the
representati