s softly, still looking down at
the slices of boiled eel that lay before him. The door slammed behind
the queen and her son.

"What did she mean by that?" Charles said, sounding quite unconcerned by
the queen's outburst.

"Do you not remember, brother?" said Louis. "Marguerite gave birth to
Tristan alone in Egypt, while you and I were prisoners of the Mamelukes.
She has never forgotten how terrified she was."

To mask his embarrassment, Simon took a big swallow of the red wine. It
was thick and tart, and burned in his chest as it went down. He never
enjoyed wine this early in the day. He wished he could drink heavily
watered wine, as King Louis did, but he feared people like Uncle Charles
would think him a weakling.

Charles popped the entire hard-boiled egg into his mouth, and spoke
around it. "It is best that the queen has left us. I do not understand
why she dislikes me so."

"I do not understand why you and she dislike each other," said Louis
sadly.

"We will talk of that another time." Charles picked up the scroll of the
pope's letter and shook it at Louis. "You must let me go to the aid of
the Holy Father."

Charles's fingernails were quite long, Simon knew, because he never
bothered to trim them. His hair and stubble of beard were thick and pure
black, while Louis's face was smooth and his hair, what was left of it,
was a silvery gray. Charles was broad-shouldered and sat erect; Louis
was slender of frame and slightly stooped. It was hard to believe that
two such different-looking men were brothers. But they did both have
what were said to be the Capet family features--they were very tall,
with long faces, large noses, and round, staring eyes, Louis's blue and
Charles's brown. They both dressed plainly, but Charles dressed like a
fighting man, in leather jerkin and high boots that he stretched out
before him as he sat sideways to the table.

Simon used his dagger to cut himself a chunk of white bread--baked
before dawn in the bishop of Avignon's ovens--from one of the loaves in
the center of the table. He hoped it would soak up the wine that still
smoldered in his stomach.

Louis said, "All my life, people have been trying to get me to make war
on the Hohenstaufen family. Our mother, may she rest in peace. One pope
after another. Now you. All call the Hohenstaufen mortal enemies of
Christendom. I am still not persuaded."

Charles laughed scornfully. "Brother! Who do you think incited the
Sienese to