"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.