the Tartars on the field at the Well of Goliath.

It appears to me now that God intends the destiny of the Dar
al-Islam to hinge on one great battle. If Manfred defeats Charles
d'Anjou in Italy, the Franks will withdraw to lick their wounds. The
French losses will deprive Louis of the troops he needs for his
crusade against us. But, if Manfred falls, then the pope and the
Franks, made greedy by victory, will be eager to join forces with
the Tartars and extend their empire into our sacred lands of Islam.
I will do my best to see that the Franks do not defeat Manfred, and
if I fail I hope not to live to see what comes after.

All is in the hands of God, the All-Powerful, the Compassionate.

LIX

Cold and steady, the rain drummed on Simon's wide-brimmed leather hat.
His wool cloak had been soaking up water all day, and lay heavy as an
iron plate on his body. It was not yet sunset, he knew, but the rain so
darkened the streets of Perugia that he despaired of finding his
destination.

He rode along the wide main street hunched over against the chill rain,
Sordello and Thierry on either side, their two spare horses and their
baggage mule trailing behind. People hurried past without looking up.

"There it is!" Sordello shouted through the rain.

Simon's first thought on seeing the Baglioni palace was, _If only we had
been in a place like that when the Filippeschi attacked_.

Rain and darkness made it hard for him to see it in detail, but lighted
torches and candles glowing inside the windows limned its general shape.
The square central tower loomed high above the surrounding city, its
stone face ruddy in the glow from the upper windows of four cylindrical
corner turrets. The palace was surrounded by a high outer wall, and
Simon supposed there was an expanse of bare ground between the wall and
the main building. To him, the palace looked more like a great French
country chateau than a noble Italian family's town house.

Streamers of purple cloth, betokening mourning, were draped from one
turret of the gatehouse to the other, the rain-soaked ends flapping
across the arch of the gateway.

The tall wooden gate, sheltered from the rain by a pointed arch, was
adorned with painted carvings of the lion, symbol of the Guelfi, and the
griffin, symbol of the city of Perugia. Simon and Sordello pounded on
the gate, and men-at-arms admitted them. Simon unstrapped a flat leather
ca