Daoud sighed inwardly at the thought of still another great building dedicated to idolatry.
Yet the chapel at Château Langmuir had been such a lovely and quiet place.
As the pontiff's words were repeated, the murmuring grew louder. Someone near Daoud said, "But the miracle happened in Bolsena." Someone else hushed the person who protested.
I should not wonder if these cities went to war with each other over such a relic, thought Daoud.
"Finally," said Pope Urban, oblivious of the discontent his previous proclamation had caused among the citizens of Bolsena, "we command that all priests of Holy Church shall read a special office on the feast of Corpus Christi of each year, commemorating this miracle. God has willed that there should be dwelling with us here at Orvieto the most gifted scholar and writer of this age, Fra Tomasso d'Aquino."
Daoud saw that Fra Tomasso's face was almost as bright a red as a cardinal's hat.
"And we charge our beloved and most gloriously gifted son, Fra Tomasso, with the duty of writing this office."
D'Aquino rose heavily from a bench on the right side of the altar. Puffing, sweating despite the chill of the day, he bowed to the pope with hands clasped before him.
A great honor, that must be, Daoud thought. Fra Tomasso was silent for the moment, but he would write words that would be repeated by thousands of priests all over the world as long as Christians celebrated this feast. D'Aquino was more than ever indebted to the pope. If the pope were to want d'Aquino's help in persuading the French to go to war against Manfred, he would collect that debt.
Looking at Fra Tomasso as he sat listening to Pope Urban talk on about his plans for the feast, for the cathedral, for the office, Daoud saw a glow on those rounded features that made him uneasy. Daoud had felt that with Cardinal Ugolini and Fra Tomasso stirring up opposition to the alliance throughout Christendom, he had but to wait for the plan to die of old age.