t invisible in a long, hooded cloak. No one was threatening her.

One of the men facing Celino, Daoud recognized, was the innkeeper
himself. He was a huge man with broad, rounded shoulders and a shock of
thick black hair cut off at the same length all the way around, so it
looked like a bowl. The dagger he held was a long, murderous blade, but
his big hand made it look like a toy.

"Give us the Jew," the innkeeper said to Celino. "We have no quarrel
with you."

The old man was a Jew? How was it, Daoud demanded of himself, that these
people had known that and he had not?

"You do have a quarrel with me," said Celino, "because I do not care to
see you torment and rob this old man."

Daoud swore to himself. Was this the kind of madman Manfred had yoked
him with? Sworn to the utmost secrecy, carrying a fortune in jewels, and
now he brings a whole inn down around his ears by defending some dusty
old man?

_But does not God love the compassionate?_

_Give us the Jew_, the innkeeper had said. Daoud knew that Christians
took delight in mistreating Jews.

_And I told the old man to go in there. But I did not know he was a Jew.
Or that these people would harm him._

Whether Celino was a madman or not, Daoud would have to get him out of
this, because he was carrying half of their supply of precious stones.
When they left Lucera, Daoud and Celino had divided the twenty-four
jewels Manfred had traded for the great emerald. Each carried half of
the precious stones in a pouch hidden under his tunic.

Daoud studied the room. There must be a good thirty people there, most
of them men. Aside from the six surrounding Celino, few of them seemed
menacing. But if someone jumped in to help Celino, more might join the
other side.

_What do I have to help me? That boy who came with the old man. Sophia.
And Celino and the dog._

If only, he thought, he had the Scorpion. But that was in the dining
hall there, with all their other baggage, which Celino--the fool!--was
supposed to be guarding.

He backed out into the small courtyard and bumped into the boy, who had
followed him to the door. "You. Your father is in danger in there. And
my friend has gotten into trouble trying to help him. We must get them
out, you and I."

"Why should Christians help us?" The bitter voice was high. The boy must
be very young. He was wrapped up like a Bedouin. His head and face were
swathed in a dark cloth, his body cloaked. Only those sparkling eye