"I have been watching you since Lucera, My Lord," Erculio went on. "You have done well, even if it has been God's will that you should not succeed. You have been clever. But you should have taken the tawidh off before you surrendered. Do you think there are no Christians who can recognize Arabic numerals?" Now Daoud was sure the little man was an ally of some sort. In Arabic he said, "Does the scar on the back of my leg look fresh?" "It has healed so completely that no one would believe you got it a few months ago. They know nothing of our Islamic medicine. You bear another wound, though, that would have much to say to the observant--your circumcision. That was why I had them put a loincloth on you and lay you facedown on this rack." "Lucky for me you were here," Daoud said. "Not luck," said Erculio. "El Malik deemed it wise that, should you be made a prisoner, one of his men ought to be among your captors." _Even here, Baibars's hand reaches out to me_, thought Daoud, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Help me to escape," said Daoud. "The guards and the clerk are asleep." Erculio brought his small hand downward in a gesture of flat rejection. "There are a hundred men-at-arms on duty up above. The podesta himself will be down here in an hour. Why can you not make up a story that will satisfy him? Say you are a Ghibellino. That is what he believes, and since it is not true, it will not help him. In a thousand years he would never guess the truth." "No. The only way I can protect those close to me is to admit nothing." Erculio shook his head, and his black eyes were liquid with sadness. "What a pity. Your case is hopeless, then. Ever since I saw you in Lucera I have felt sorry for you. How can El Malik expect one man to change the course of nations? You are like a man trying to hold apart two ships about to collide." He sighed. "I have done all I can for you. I have hurt you as much as I can without doing you permanent injury--so far. There is only one other service I can perform for you." "What is that?" said Daoud, though he felt sure he already knew the answer. "You would not want to reveal under torture that you are an agent of the Sultan of El Kahira, and provoke the very crusade you were sent here to prevent. You would not want to give your friends away. If you break, I will see to it that you die before you might speak." "I will not break," said Daoud. "And when it is all over, and d'Ucello has killed me, he will at last come to believe that I was telling the truth. Because he believes that no one can hold out against torture to the very end. But promise me one thing." "Insh'Allah, anything." "If you must cripple me, see that I do not leave this dungeon alive." Understanding and respect glowed in the black eyes peering at Daoud over the edge of the rack. "As you wish, My Lord."