equire three thousand
florins to be delivered to me tomorrow morning before I enter the city,
to compensate my men, whose pay is in arrears. I will have further
requirements, but I will not press you for all at once. Three thousand
florins will be enough for tomorrow."

Simon saw von Regensburg and FitzTrinian grinning at each other.

Orsini's mouth worked several times after Simon translated Charles's
demand for three thousand florins. "But, Your Signory, we welcome you as
our protector, not as one who comes to--to take from us."

Charles laughed and threw his arms wide. "Protectors cost money, my dear
Orsini. I am sure the great city of Rome can scrape together three
thousand florins by tomorrow. It will not be necessary for me to send my
army into the city to help you find the money, will it?"

"Not at all necessary, Your Signory," said Orsini, bowing, his face
flushed to the roots of his black beard.

These Guelfo nobles apparently had thought that the count of Anjou had
come to Rome purely out of some high-minded desire to serve the pope and
the Church, Simon thought. They were starting to learn what Simon
himself had gradually come to realize: that Count Charles did nothing
that did not first and foremost benefit himself.

As for himself, Simon's deepest wish was to get away from all this
slaughter and pillage and dishonor, and the sooner the better.

* * * * *

"Rome is an old whore who lies down for every strong man who comes
along," said Count Charles. "All we needed was to show our resolution
when that mob came at us, and Rome fell over backward."

The two men sat across from each other at a small camp table in
Charles's tent, sharing wine and succulent roast pork killed and cooked
by Anjou's equerries. Simon stared into the flames of a six-branched
candlestick standing on Charles's armor chest at the side of the tent,
and thought that he would far rather be exploring the wonders of Rome he
had heard so much about--the Colosseum, the Lateran Palace, the Forum,
the catacombs.

Simon remembered his mother's warning of years ago: _Charles d'Anjou
uses people._ How often, with Charles, had he suspected, feared, that
she was right? But those boyhood years in Charles's household, Simon's
weapons training under Charles, his feeling that King Louis was a sort
of father to him and Count Charles a sort of uncle, all made him want to
trust Charles. But it was becoming impossible