A swollen yellow moon appeared over the treetops, and Simon was grateful
for its light. Now they would have less trouble following the road.
Friar Mathieu said, "It is not an easy thing for so young a man to match
wits with two powerful churchmen skilled in dialectic. I congratulate
you on doing it at all."
Simon felt a hollow in his stomach. He saw himself going back to France,
sneered at not only for his family's disgrace but for his own
incompetence.
"Our mission _must_ succeed," he said, clenching his fist. His voice
rose above the creak of the wagon wheels, surprising even himself with
his vehemence.
"God has His own ideas about what ought to succeed or fail," said Friar
Mathieu. "Do not try to take the whole burden on yourself."
"I must," said Simon, feeling tears burn his eyes.