o deal with these four men, but he could
almost feel the weight of the overwhelming trap he was in. The thick
walls. The thousands of soldiers. It was hopeless. He could fight on
only until he died. And that was not what he had come here for at all.

Daoud stepped back toward the farther doorway, pulling Lorenzo with him.
He glanced over his shoulder to be sure no one was behind him.

"For my part," said Daoud, "I will hurt you till you beg _them_ to put
down their swords. I will start by breaking your arm." He gave the
twisted arm a vicious upward push till he could almost feel the agony of
the tendons. Lorenzo grunted, and Scipio barked angrily. Most men, Daoud
thought, would have screamed aloud at that.

"No matter what you do to me, it will not help you," said Lorenzo.

Three more turbaned Muslim soldiers joined those coming at Daoud. They
spread out in a wide circle, some of them trying to slip around to his
rear.

"Stand where you are, or I'll kill him," Daoud shouted. To show he meant
it, he pressed the knife edge hard against Celino's throat and sliced
with it just enough to draw blood.

"I hope you will enjoy the taste of your own intestines," Lorenzo said.
He dug his boot heels into the wooden floor, trying to slow down Daoud's
effort to drag him to the door. Daoud pushed up harder on his arm to
make him move faster.

Daoud felt no fear of death, and he would not let them take him prisoner
to torture him. He would die fighting. And go straight to paradise.

But how foolish all this was. A waste of his own life and the lives he
would take with him. And many of those he would kill were Muslims, like
himself.

"You must know that you will be the first to die here," he said. "And
believe me I will take many of your men with me. I may even manage to
kill your precious dog. I did not come here to fight with King Manfred's
men. Why are you doing this?"

Celino, who had been struggling against Daoud, now relaxed and turned
his head. "You are too dangerous to live."

"Dangerous to whom?"

"To me," said a deep voice behind Daoud.

III

Daoud turned, dragging Celino. A blond man stood, hands on hips, eyeing
him with a faint smile. One of the big doors leading into the royal
audience chamber was slightly ajar. Daoud was angry at himself for
letting someone slip up behind him unnoticed.

"Sire, get back!" Lorenzo shouted.

_Sire._ Daoud knew at once who this was. The same height as Lorenzo, as