this distance, rose and fell over the water in unison.

"Thank heaven," said Simon.

"Indeed," said Alain. "I am starting to feel more like a baked pigeon
than a man."

As the galley swung in to the wharf, ropes flying through the air to
make her fast to shore, Simon heard a sudden outcry behind him and
jerked his head around.

"Make way for the most serene! Make way for the doge!" runners shouted.
Musicians blowing oliphants, cranking hurdy-gurdies, and pounding on
drums led a bright procession along the wharves. Two men in knee-length
scarlet tunics stiff with gold braid held poles between which swung a
huge banner. On the banner a winged lion in gold strode across a green
background. Simon saw rows of gleaming helmets and naked swords held
upright, followed by ranks of men in glittering brocaded robes, emerald
and silver, maroon and gold. Towering over all was a huge sedan chair
with a gilded roof and cloth of gold curtains, followed by a troop of
men with tall spears. A crowd of men and women in bright silk tunics and
satin gowns, laughing and chattering, brought up the rear.

A man in an ankle-length gown, his cap heavy with gold thread,
confronted Simon. He was, Simon recalled, a camerlengo who had been
present two weeks before when he had his brief audience with the doge
and presented his charter from King Louis.

"Count, your troops are occupying the place needed by the doge, that he
may properly greet our guests. Move them, if you please." The "if you
please" was uttered in a tone so perfunctory as to be almost insulting.
Simon's face burned and his muscles tensed, but when the ruler of Venice
demanded that he give way, he was in no position to quarrel. He bowed
curtly and turned to order his men to vacate the wharf.

And so, after waiting for hours, Simon suddenly found himself watching
the arrival of the ambassadors from behind ranks of Venetian archers far
more smartly turned out than his own mercenaries.

Why, Simon wondered, had the doge not made a place for him in this
welcoming ceremony? The slight made him feel angry at himself as much as
at the doge.

_It is me. Uncle Charles should have sent an older man, more able to
command respect._

First to come down the boarding ramp of the galley from Cyprus was a
friar in a brown robe with a white cord wrapped around his waist. The
crown of his scalp was shaved, and his beard was long and white. He
threw himself on the ground and kissed it with a