to the red silk cross sewn on his blue tunic. After the
coronation, the pope's proclamation of a crusade against Manfred had
been read. Charles's men must have had their crosses sewn on in
anticipation.

Men like du Mont, von Regensburg, and FitzTrinian were now holy
warriors, all of whose past sins were forgiven. If any of Charles's
followers should die in battle, they would go straight to heaven.

Having seen those cutthroats in action, Simon thought their new state of
holiness absurd. But now that Pope Clement had declared the war against
Manfred a crusade, it would be so much easier to recruit an army from
Gobignon.

Simon wore no cross, an outward sign of his indecision.

An equerry in red and black whispered to Friar Mathieu, who turned and
spoke to the Tartars. John and Philip ceremoniously unbuckled their
jeweled belts and draped them over their necks. As the bowlegged little
men started up the steps, Simon heard snickers from among Charles's
officers at this Tartar gesture of submission. The more fools they, he
thought, to laugh at the customs of men who had conquered half the
earth. Friar Mathieu followed the Tartars, holding the equerry's arm.

Innumerable conversations, echoing against the vaulted ceiling of the
great Lateran hall, battered on Simon's ears. To his right he heard
Cardinal de Verceuil's deep booming. Unwillingly, he turned, and saw the
cardinal's wide-brimmed red hat, its heavy tassels swinging, rising
above the crowd as did the voice coming from beneath it. De Verceuil was
happy to dress like a cardinal today, since he was taking the place of
the pope. Simon knew he would soon be trading his scarlet regalia for
mail. Eager to share in the spoils of Manfred's kingdom, he was going
back to France to raise an army from his fiefs and benefices scattered
around the country.

Simon saw several other cardinals' hats here and there in the crowd. He
wondered if any of the Italian cardinals supported Charles's adventure.

None of them disapproved openly, that was certain. Only Ugolini had
protested, and his form of protest had been flight. Enough to cost him
his red hat. By papal decree Adelberto Ugolini was no longer
cardinal-bishop of Palermo. Simon had sought out priests and merchants
traveling from southern Italy, asking them what had become of Ugolini.
But news from the south was sparse these days, and news of Ugolini
nonexistent.

Simon had spoken in Viterbo to a pair of Dominican friar