Simon went to the door, and saw no one in the corridor but a helmeted man-at-arms standing about ten paces away. Servants with a huge bed frame struggled past. He closed the door and turned again to the pope. "Yes," said Urban. "What was I saying? Ah, yes--Simon, I expect to be in my grave before the year is out." "God forbid, Your Holiness!" "God do me that kindness, you mean." Urban raised a deprecating hand. "I am worn out. I am ready to go home. But I have a last task to do before I die. I must insure the destruction of the odious Manfred. I must not let him kill me before my work is done, and I must not fall into the hands of the Ghibellini. So, though it will shorten my life even more, I must leave Orvieto. Now that the Ghibellini have stirred up the Filippeschi to make civil war, I am no longer safe on this mountaintop. Perugia is more secure. It has a big army, and it is surrounded by a strong ring of other Guelfo cities and castles. After I am gone, the cardinals will be safe there while they elect a new pope." Simon realized that he was indeed looking at a dying man. From here to Perugia was a journey of at least two weeks, through difficult, mountainous country. Urban might get there safely, but he would not live there long. The election of a new pope would take months; it had been known to take years. And Urban's successor might be even more reluctant to join forces with the Tartars than Urban had been. What if it were Cardinal Ugolini--he was as eligible as anyone--or someone under his influence? The little they had accomplished so far might be wholly undone. Time. Time was the most terrible enemy of all. The more time passed, the less likely that the alliance would be formed, the joint attack on the Saracens launched. Simon saw time as a black river in flood, sweeping away everything he had worked and fought for. _I must prevail upon him to give his permission--now. But how can I sway a man three times my age--the pope himself?_ The only way to keep from giving in to despair was to plunge in, as if this were a tournament, or a fight to the death. Simon plunged in. "Your Holiness, before you leave Orvieto, I beg you to recognize that we must join with the Tartars to crush the infidel." Urban sighed. "You think just as your King Louis does." He held up an admonitory finger. "Europe first, Simon. The Church must be strong in Europe before our princes go adventuring in Outremer." "But it was the popes who preached the Crusades in the first place," Simon answered, baffled.