"I have something important to tell Your Signory, but it is not about Cardinal Ugolini and his circle." Sordello spoke in a hoarse whisper. "The Filippeschi are going to make a surprise attack on the Palazzo Monaldeschi."
The news hit Simon like a kick in the belly.
The Tartars—and he and his men—would be caught in the middle. He thought back to Alain's murder. Even since then he had felt that Orvieto could be a death trap for him and all his men.
Simon leaned forward to peer into Sordello's pinkish eyes. "When will the attack come?"
"Tonight, after vespers."
Tonight! Now Simon's blood froze. No time! No time! a voice shrieked inside him. He wanted to run back to the palace shouting warnings all the way. It took all his strength to keep him standing with Sordello, to force his mind, galloping like a runaway horse, to slow down and frame questions.
"How did you find out?"
"Tavern talk. Some of Giancarlo's hired bravos were drinking with Filippeschi men."
Sweat that felt like a cold rain broke out all over Simon's body. The Tartars—he must get them out of the Monaldeschi palace. But the contessa had been his hostess for many months. He himself had no quarrel with the Filippeschi, but he had an obligation to defend the contessa.
"How long have you known this?"