Releasing Lorenzo's neck, Daoud gripped Lorenzo's wrist and twisted, hard and fast. Biting his lip, Lorenzo resisted, but he had to turn and bend, or the pressure on his arm would break it. Daoud laid the edge of Lorenzo's dagger against his throat. "Call off your dog or I cut your throat." Daoud glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was behind him. "By all means cut my throat," Lorenzo flung back at him. "And Scipio will tear _your_ throat out." "If the dog jumps at me, I will gut him." "The devil roast your balls," Lorenzo growled. "Scipio, sit!" The hound stopped barking and stared at Lorenzo. "Down, Scipio!" Lorenzo said. "He will not hurt me." To Daoud he said, "If you do hurt me, you will suffer such things that you will beg us to kill you." Scipio reluctantly crouched, murder in his brown eyes and a steady, low growling issuing from his throat. The three Muslim guards were still moving forward, far more warily. Daoud felt strong and able now to 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."