If I could but capture Marco di Filippeschi and force him to tell me why he is doing this ...
What if this attack were a diversion, a cover for the real blow, to be struck by stealth?
Simon's body went cold.
"I must see to the Tartar ambassadors," he said. He turned toward the trapdoor in the tower roof.
"Monseigneur—look—the Filippeschi are attacking again," de Puys protested. Simon turned back, looked over the edge, and saw the tortoise shapes moving forward again over the piazza while stones from mangonels slammed into the second-story gatehouse.
No, he thought. Even if they break down the door, they could never get up the stairs. This attack is a feint.
"I believe the ambassadors are in danger," he said.
"By God's robe!" de Verceuil boomed from under his helmet. "You are quitting the battle?"
"The battle is where the ambassadors are," Simon said. "The whole purpose of this attack is to get at them."
"The whole purpose of your saying that is to get out of danger," de Verceuil retorted.