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edge of the tapestry with the family crest and drew it backward, showing an aged and badly damaged fresco of six knights on horseback, the flag of the crusaders high above them, an Oriental castle before them.
    The Gifted rose from the table and stumbled closer, seeing now the family crest across each knight’s chest. “Our great-great-grandfather,” Armand said, tapping the man on the first horse, a star of Bethlehem across his armored chest plate. “Morassi’s great-great-grandfather,” he said, touching the next man. They all could see the other family crests on the following four horses.
    The peacock of the d’Angelos. The dragon of the Amideis. A lion, paws outstretched. A fox, as if on the prowl.
    Daria’s hand went to her mouth. “How long has this been here? Our ancestors . . . they were all together in the Holy Land?”
    Armand shook his head. “I do not believe they made it there. This fresco was done soon after the castle was rebuilt around eleven eighty. I believe this depicts the Fourth Crusade—see Constantinople in the background? They intended to enter the Holy Land through Egypt, but lacked the funds to pay for the provisions and fleet contracted from Venezia, so they sacked Constantinople instead.”
    Daria gaped at the wall. “I never knew a d’Angelo as a crusader.”
    â€œBut as I understand it, your ancestors arrived in Siena with some wealth to their name, oui ?”
    Daria blinked slowly. “Yes. They did.”
    â€œMen of the Fourth Crusade plundered Constantinople. They came home wealthy, if not victorious for the faith.”
    â€œHardly something my family would wish to remember.”
    â€œBut they put the money to good use, did they not? They invested in Toscana, in the woolen guild, and imported inks, dyes, and parchment for the neighboring scribes. Yes?”
    â€œYes,” she said, still searching her memory for any word from her father or grandfather about a crusading ancestor. Her eyes went back to the fresco. “And Amidei . . .” Her voice trailed off.
    â€œThe Amideis tend to be either the best of men or the very worst. They have enjoyed power for some time, in any region they enter. It is logical that they had a family member on this crusade. Your family did well with the money, redeemed it. Amidei’s family used it for more base desires, building, always building, but corrupt.”
    He moved in front of Daria. “You see, Duchess, why I have known of you for some time,” he said, gesturing toward the fresco. “As a boy, I longed to go on crusade, and begged my grandfather to tell me all he knew of the great battles. He knew of your family, knew they had settled in Toscana. He even knew of a lovely young daughter, a promising beauty who might have been a good match for me, but she had been promised to another in Siena—”
    â€œAnd these others?” Gianni interrupted. “What families do these two represent?” he asked, waving toward the knights with the family heralds of lion and fox.
    Armand dragged his eyes from Daria, and waved toward the lion. “The herald of Lord Blanchette, of Uzes, and this,” he eyed Daria again after pointing to the fox, “is the herald of the Richardieus, of Villeneuve-des-Avignon. Both are longtime friends of Les Baux.”
    Piero sighed. “Just one more clue, in a long line of clues. God knew we would need allies, and here they appear to be.” He turned to Armand. “We are on God’s own path, m’lord. Surely you see that.”
    â€œIndeed I do. And I aim to aid and protect you, if necessary. I will do all I can to assist others in pursuit of the King and his cause. If I cannot go on crusade,” he said, waggling a brow toward Daria, “this is a close second.” He reached out a hand to Daria and led her back to a chair. “You are in the abode of a friend, m’lady. You shall stay with us