Swinging the dabbus so it whistled through the air, Kassar charged at Nicetas. The boys fell back, opening the circle wider. For the first time, Daoud saw fear in Nicetas's eyes. He ducked as Kassar swung the mace at his head, but his movements were slow and awkward. He had been hit too many times. He fell, stood up, and staggered backward. The naqeeb would not interfere. This could end only one way. And Daoud knew that he did not want to see Nicetas die before his eyes. He would not allow it. Only moments ago rage had raised a great storm within him, but now his mind was like the desert after the storm has passed, still and empty. Like the desert, he felt himself full of a terrible power. Without any more thought he stepped out into the ring behind Kassar and shouted, "Kassar! Enough!" The Tartar whirled, holding the dabbus at shoulder height. "Stay out of this, pigshit Frank." "Let him be, Kassar." Almost all Daoud's attention was on Kassar, but a part of his mind was free to wonder why he felt no fear at all. Somehow, he was not sure how, the hours with Saadi had something to do with it. "Put that down," Daoud said, pointing at the dabbus. "In your head!" Kassar shouted, and charged at him. Daoud kept his eyes on Kassar's, but in the edge of his vision he saw the ridged mass of iron, heavy enough to crack a steel helmet, rushing toward his head--his head protected only by a cloth cap. At the last possible moment he threw up his hand and caught Kassar's wrist. He stepped back out of the path of the dabbus and jerked downward on Kassar's arm. The weight of the mace helped throw Kassar off balance, and he landed on his chest with a grunt, the air driven out of him. Daoud stamped on Kassar's forearm and yanked the dabbus out of his grasp. He flung himself down on Kassar and pinned him to the sand. Though all his attention was on Kassar, there was room in his mind for a triumphant surprise. _Allahu akbar! God is great! I never thought I had the strength to throw the Kipchaq._ "Nicetas won the contest. Admit it, or I'll break your skull," he growled, holding the dabbus over Kassar's head. Kassar remained silent. Daoud lowered the dabbus and tapped the Tartar's round skull through his mop of straight black hair. He hit Kassar just hard enough to let him feel the weight of the dabbus. "Admit that Nicetas won." "All right," Kassar grunted, his face in the sand. "He won." "Swear by the Prophet you will leave him alone from now on." "I swear," came the muffled voice. "By the Prophet." "By the Prophet." Daoud stood up warily and handed the dabbus back to the boy Kassar had taken it from. Kassar rose slowly, wiping sand from his face. His eyes seemed to spark with hatred. _This is not finished yet_, Daoud thought.