"I truly would like to find the time for it," said Friar Mathieu, unruffled. "But I seem to be always traveling."
Fra Tomasso nodded. "You and that merchant from Trebizond are the only two Christians in Orvieto who have traveled among the Tartars. I found your testimony at His Holiness's council quite fascinating."
"But not persuasive?" Friar Mathieu leaned forward intently.
Simon caught his breath. Fra Tomasso had given them an opening.
"I presumed that was why you had come to see me," said Fra Tomasso with a self-satisfied smile. "Let me assure you, good friar and noble count, that until a little over a week ago I had tried to keep to a strict neutrality, feeling that in that way I could be more useful to His Holiness. Even after hearing the Tartars condemn themselves out of their own mouths at the Contessa di Monaldeschi's reception. But then I changed my mind."
"Let me ask you a rather delicate question, Your Reverence," said Friar Mathieu.
Fra Tomasso leaned back and rested his hands, fingers laced, on his huge belly. "Any question at all."
"Did Cardinal de Verceuil's behavior toward you have anything to do with your change of mind?"
The crease in the Dominican philosopher's forehead deepened. Simon winced inwardly. What if, now, they had truly offended Fra Tomasso?
"Surely you do not suggest that I would let personal pique determine my position on a matter so important to the future of Christendom?"