The Saracen: Land of the Infidel, Robert Shea [book recommendations for young adults txt] 📗

you have seen with your own eyes. But if your empire of Trebizond now trades with the Tartars, how is it that you come here to denounce them?"

"I came to Orvieto as a merchant bearing samples of silk from Cathay," said David. "It is only, as Cardinal Ugolini has said, God's providence that I am here when you are deciding this great question."

Fra Tomasso turned to Pope Urban. "Holy Father, is there anything else you wish me to ask?"

Pope Urban shook his head. "I believe I have heard enough for now. We do not want to sit here all day." Smiling, he turned to David. "Master David, we thank you for coming all this way to bring us this warning."

"Your Holiness." David bowed, a fluid movement that made Simon grunt with distaste.

Curse the luck! Why is there no one here who knows the Tartars to answer this David? How do we know he is not a liar? A Greek silk merchant is not the sort of person I would trust. He would say anything if he thought it would help him sell his wares.

But doubt cooled Simon's anger. He did not want to admit it, but Cosmas's and David's tales had frightened him. He thought of the hard, cold faces of John and Philip. He could see them beheading women, shooting children with arrows.

Do we want to ally ourselves with such creatures?

King Louis did. Count Charles d'Anjou, Uncle Charles, wanted the alliance. Simon had agreed to come here. How could he face Uncle Charles, what could he say, if he changed his mind?[162]

A lifetime of scorn, that was what lay ahead of him if he were to turn back now.

David sat stiffly upright, his hands resting on his knees, as Cardinal Ugolini approached the pope, reaching out in appeal.

"Holy Father, your predecessor, Clement III of happy memory, declared a crusade against the Tartars after the battle of Mohi. I beg you to sound the alarm again, like that brave trumpeter of Krakow. A Christian prince should no more make a pact with the Tartars than with the devil. Let the nations of Christendom be warned in the sternest terms. Let us declare excommunicate any Christian ruler who allies himself with the Tartars."

Shocked outcries burst from all parts of the hall. Simon went cold. The thought of King Louis being excommunicated horrified him. But surely it would not come to that. King Louis was too loyal a Catholic to defy the pope. But that, then, meant that Simon's mission would fail.

De Verceuil jumped to his feet. "You, Ugolini! You should be excommunicated for even suggesting such a thing!"

"Cardinal Paulus, you yourself have had much to say out of turn," Pope Urban said testily. "I give you leave now to speak in favor of this proposed alliance."

De Verceuil took his stand in front of the papal throne, and Ugolini returned to his place in the pews.

If only the pope favored us more. He is a Frenchman, after all. What about this Manfred von Hohenstaufen? The pope needs French help there. But what a disaster for us that he asks de Verceuil to speak. If any man can turn friends into enemies, it is de Verceuil. We need Friar Mathieu. In God's name, where is he? He could answer this David of Trebizond.

De Verceuil quickly dismissed the Hungarian's testimony. All that, he said, happened a generation ago. Today the Tartars would not win such easy victories in Europe because we know more about them, and they would not invade Europe again because they know more about us. The Tartars have new leaders since those days, and that is why they have chosen to make war on the Mohammedans. Christian friars have gone among them, and many Tartars have been baptized. The wife of Hulagu Khan is a Christian. Wherever the khan and his wife travel, they take a Christian chapel mounted on a cart, and mass is said for them daily.

"Yes!" Ugolini cried from his seat. "A Nestorian chapel. The[163] khan's wife and the other Tartars you call Christians are Nestorian heretics."

"From what I have heard of your dabblings in alchemy and astrology, it ill behooves you to speak of heresy, Cardinal Ugolini," said de Verceuil darkly.

Ugolini stood up and advanced on de Verceuil, who was twice his height. "As for Christian friars going among the Tartars"—he held up a small book—"let me read—"

De Verceuil turned to Pope Urban. "Holy Father, you have given me leave to speak."

"True, but more than once you interrupted him," said Urban with a smile. "Let us hear this."

"The Franciscan Friar William of Rubruk, at the command of King Louis of France, visited the court of the Tartar emperor in Karakorum," said Ugolini. "This is his account of his travels in that pagan capital. He says the Tartars were so stubborn in their ways that he made not a single convert." He opened to a page marked with a ribbon. "Here is his conclusion, after years among the Tartars—'Were it allowed me, I would to the utmost of my power preach war against them throughout the whole world.'" Ugolini slapped the book shut and sat down, looking triumphant.

De Verceuil failed to respond immediately. What a poor advocate he was, Simon thought. If only Friar Mathieu were here. He, too, was a Franciscan like this William of Rubruk, and he might well have the answer to Rubruk's words.

"Friar William," de Verceuil said at last, "wrote years before the Tartars conquered Baghdad. As for me, I count myself happy to have heard the words of this merchant from Trebizond." He pointed a long finger at David, who stood in the crowd about twenty feet away from Simon. David looked back at de Verceuil with a rigid face full of raw hatred that reminded Simon of what he had read about basilisks.

"Happy, I say," de Verceuil went on, "to hear every detail of the utter destruction of that center of the Satanic worship of Mohammed. I was reminded of the rain of fire and brimstone that wiped out Sodom and Gomorrah. My heart sang with joy when I heard of the caliph, successor of that false prophet, trampled by Tartar horses. I hold that the Tartars are God's instrument for the final downfall of His enemies. What wonderful allies they will make as we liberate the Holy Land from the Saracens once and for all!"[164]

"And who will liberate the Holy Land from the Tartars?" a cardinal, forgetting his Latin, shouted in Italian.

"Be still, you fool!" cried another cardinal in French.

The Italian advanced on the Frenchman. "Whoever says 'Thou fool!'"—he gave the French cardinal a vicious shove with both hands—"shall be liable to the judgment." Another shove.

Fra Tomasso rang his small bell furiously, but the furious prelates ignored him.

Now someone had seized the Italian from behind. Simon was shocked, having never dreamed the leaders of the Church could be so unruly. It seemed that anything the French cardinals were for, the Italians were against. And was the pope, though a Frenchman, likely to approve the alliance, with nearly half the cardinals against it? And even if he did, could it succeed in the face of that much opposition?

"Pax!" the pope cried, climbing a few steps toward his throne and lifting his arms heavenward. "Peace!" The angry sound of his voice and the sight of him slowly brought quiet to the hall.

Urban took them to task. The whole future of Christendom might be at stake, and they were brawling like university students. Perhaps he should treat them like students and have them whipped. Sheepishly the cardinals and bishops took their seats with much rustling of red and purple robes.

D'Aquino asked de Verceuil if he had finished. He said he had, and Simon's heart sank.

I promised Uncle Charles I would work to further the alliance. I want to believe in it.

But after listening to Ugolini's two witnesses and de Verceuil's feeble attempt to refute them, he was beset by frightening doubts.

He prayed he would not have to reverse himself. If he changed his colors now and repudiated the alliance, Count Charles might well feel himself betrayed and say that Simon was no better than his father.

"But did not a Franciscan named"—the stout Dominican consulted his notes on parchment—"Mathieu d'Alcon journey from Outremer with these Tartar ambassadors? Why is he not here to tell us what he knows about them?"

Hope leapt up in Simon's heart. Yes! If they would only hear Friar Mathieu, that might yet win the day for the alliance.

And it might help me to feel I am doing the right thing.

"I assumed, before this august body, my testimony would be[165] sufficient," said de Verceuil with a slight stammer. "After all, what could a mere Franciscan friar add—"

Fra Tomasso raised his eyebrows. "I remind you, Cardinal, that His Holiness has entrusted the conduct of this inquiry to a 'mere friar'—myself. And William of Rubruk, whose book was quoted here today, was a 'mere friar.' Can this Friar Mathieu be found, and quickly?"

De Verceuil spread his hands. "I have no idea where he is, Fra Tomasso. He parted company with us after we arrived in Orvieto and neglected to tell us his whereabouts."

A lie!

Friar Mathieu had told everyone he would be at the Franciscan Hospital of Santa Clara. Simon was honor bound to speak out.

Still, it took all his courage to force words through his throat—loud words at that, to make himself heard over the murmur of many conversations.

"Reverend Father!" he called out, and his heart hammered in terror as hundreds of eyes turned toward him, de Verceuil's first of all. "Reverend Father!"

Fra Tomasso turned toward Simon.

"I know where Friar Mathieu d'Alcon is," Simon called.

D'Aquino raised his eyebrows. "Who are you, young man?" When Simon announced himself as the Count de Gobignon, Friar Tomasso's smile was welcoming enough to reassure Simon a bit.

"Friar Mathieu is at the hospital of the Franciscans," said Simon. "He told me he wanted to work there until his services were needed for the embassy."

"His services are needed now," said d'Aquino. "Not summoning him here was an oversight." He glanced coolly at de Verceuil. "The hospital is not far away."

"I know where it is, Reverend Father." Simon had gone to the hospital to inquire about the man shot in the street by the Venetians, he who had died despite Friar Mathieu's urgent efforts.

"Then have the friar fetched at once, Count, if you please," said d'Aquino.

Simon shot a quick look at de Verceuil before he turned to leave. The cardinal was staring at him, his long face a deep crimson and his eyes narrowed to black slits. Their eyes met, and Simon felt almost as if swords had clashed.

Why was de Verceuil, who wanted the alliance, so angry?[166]

I know. He wanted to be the authority on the Tartars. He wanted to carry the day for the alliance all by himself.

Hard to believe, Simon thought, but it seemed de Verceuil would rather see his cause lost than have someone else win credit for its success.

"I shall fetch him myself, Fra Tomasso," Simon said loudly.

To his relief, he found de Pirenne, expecting an outing in the country, with their two horses just outside the papal palace wall. Simon explained his errand, and together they made the short ride through the stone-paved streets to the Franciscan hospital. There the Father Superior hastily summoned Friar Mathieu.

De Pirenne relinquished his horse to the old Franciscan. Friar Mathieu's bare skinny shanks, when he hiked up his robe to sit in the saddle, looked comical to Simon.

"I knew the Holy Father had called a council today," said Friar Mathieu, "but I assumed Cardinal de Verceuil would send for me if I were needed."

"Better to assume that he will do the opposite of what is needed," said Simon. Friar Mathieu laughed and slapped Simon's shoulder.

The pope's servants were passing flagons of wine and trays of meat tarts when Simon and Friar Mathieu entered the hall. The arguments among the prelates had risen almost to a roar, but died down as men saw Simon escorting the small figure of Mathieu d'Alcon in his threadbare brown robe toward the papal throne.

Fra Tomasso spoke softly and respectfully to the elderly Franciscan. While de Verceuil glowered from the pews, Friar Mathieu stood before the pope, seeming as serene and self-possessed as if he were in a chapel by himself.

And why should he not? thought Simon. After what Simon had heard about the Tartars today, it seemed to him that anyone who could live for years among them could face anything.

D'Aquino quickly summarized what had been said so far. Hearing the clarity and simplicity with which the Dominican conveyed the arguments, Simon could see why he was thought of as a great teacher and philosopher.

"I must warn Your Excellencies," said Friar Mathieu, "that if you sent a thousand men to journey among the Tartars,