silence as the fire ate through the thick planking of the rack table.
Gradually the blaze lost its intensity as the liquid that started it was
used up. It ended in a hole a man could pass his fist through, with
glowing, smoking edges.

"What _is_ that?" said the clerk, tugging nervously at his brown beard.

"Witchcraft," said d'Ucello with a grim chuckle. The clerk and the
guards stared at him. Erculio was expressionless.

In spite of Soma, in spite of his years of training, Daoud felt a scream
of horror rising inside him at the thought of what d'Ucello was
threatening.

"Not witchcraft, but just as evil," d'Ucello went on. "It is a weapon
devised by the Byzantines."

"Ah!" said the clerk. "This must be that Greek Fire I have heard
crusaders tell of. I always thought it another of their lies about the
East."

"It is real," said d'Ucello. "Perhaps our guest, being from the East,
has seen it before. The Turks stole the secret from the Byzantines and
have been using it against the crusaders. It starts burning the moment
it is exposed to air. It clings to whatever it touches, and its flames
cannot be put out. Maligno."

The podesta turned to Daoud. "But in this case we will be using it for a
good purpose. Messer David, do you love your organs of manhood?"

"What are you saying to me?" Daoud cried, determined that he would be
David of Trebizond to the very end. His real terror now matched his
pretended terror, but he managed to keep them two separate feelings. The
scream trying to escape him battered itself like a trapped animal
against the inner wall of the Face of Steel.

D'Ucello bent closer to Daoud, and from his painful position, belly
down, arms and legs stretched taut, Daoud lifted his head to look at the
podesta. D'Ucello glowered at him, his lips tight under his thin
mustache.

"I mean that if you do not tell me who you really are and what you are
doing in Orvieto, I will apply this healing potion to your male member.
It should not take more than a drop to burn away everything you have
there." D'Ucello feinted at Daoud's face with the flask, and Daoud
flinched back and cried out. He strained desperately against the chains
that held him.

Greek Fire--what a cruel turn of fate that a thing invented by Sophia's
people should destroy him. Grief swelled in his throat as he mourned the
end of those hours of delight they had passed together.

But, Daoud thought, d'Ucello did not need Greek Fire to destroy hi