LXIV

On a dais high above Simon, on a gilded throne under a cloth-of-gold
canopy, Charles d'Anjou sat, wearing the crown studded with rubies,
emeralds, and sapphires placed on his head by Cardinal Paulus de
Verceuil, as legate for Pope Clement, a few hours ago. Simon stood below
him in a half-circle of Roman nobles and Charles's commanders. The
Tartars and Friar Mathieu were beside Simon.

Behind them, the great hall of the Palazzo Laterano, Roman residence of
the pope, was packed with French seigneurs and knights and the popolo
grosso of Rome. The hall was stifling, and Simon felt sweat trickling
inside his tunic. Even in early May Rome was already too hot to live in.
He wondered how Anjou and his army would manage to survive the summer
here.

Anjou beckoned to Gautier du Mont, who swept his cap from his
bowl-shaped head of hair and hurried up the dozen steps, a sword that
reached to his ankle swinging at his side.

Simon felt a hollow in his stomach large enough to hold all of Rome.
Soon Charles would call him up to the throne, and he would have to give
him an answer. A month ago in Viterbo he had been determined to bring
the Gobignon army to Italy. In the intervening days, doubts had
unsettled him. Did he really dare to commit the fighting men of his
domain to the war? Each time he tried to decide, his mind gave a
different answer, like dice endlessly tossed. His head ached and his
eyes burned from lying awake all last night after his arrival in Rome
just in time for the coronation.

Over and over again he heard what Friar Mathieu had said: _Not so long
ago you even doubted your right to be Count de Gobignon. And are you now
ready to lead the men of Gobignon to bloodshed and--for many of
them--death?_

Du Mont had finished his conversation with Charles and, with repeated
bows, was descending from the dais with his face toward the throne and
his hindquarters to the gathering. Now that Anjou was a king, one did
not turn one's back on him. A far cry from du Mont's behavior toward
Charles of only a few months earlier, and another mark of Charles's
increased stature since his arrival at the gates of Rome. Still, he had
been required to compromise on his coronation. He had been crowned in
Rome as he wanted, but not by the pope. Only de Verceuil, who felt
himself exalted by the occasion, was perfectly happy with that
arrangement.

As du Mont rejoined the crowd at the base of the throne, Simon's eye was
drawn