nt forward to take Nicetas in his arms, but the Greek boy shook his
head. "Do not move me. It will hurt too much."

"Where are you hit?"

"In my back. Still in me. I broke off the shaft."

_Why was I such a fool, to think we were safe?_

"It can't be a very bad wound."

Nicetas closed his eyes. "Bad enough that he could use me for his
pleasure and I could not fight him off."

A dizzying blackness blinded Daoud. His skull felt as if it were going
to burst.

"By God and the Prophet, I will kill him."

"I want you to."

"Did he do any more to hurt you?"

"Yes, he got me here." He parted his hands and raised them from his
stomach. His white cotton robe was caked with black blood, and there was
a tear in the center. The wound was not wide, but Daoud knew that it
must be very deep.

"He made sure to use his rumh, you see."

"Because that was how you beat him."

Daoud wanted only to hold Nicetas and cry, but he sensed that what would
most comfort the Greek boy would be talking about what happened to him.

"After the rumh, I lay very still and held my breath. He thought I was
dead. He left me lying there with the pony. Took my weapons and my water
bottle. I crawled here. In the sun. Yesterday afternoon. I bled and
bled."

_He is going to die_, Daoud thought. He did not want to believe it. For
a moment he was angry at Nicetas. Why had he been such a fool as to come
out here alone? And then at himself. Why had he let him go?

And then at God.

_Why did You let this happen? Do You hate us because we love each
other?_

"I knew you would come for me, Daoud. I stayed alive to greet you."

Daoud took Nicetas's hand. "I will take you back."

"No. Bury me out here. Let him think you never found me. Bide your time,
as he did. Give him no reason to fear you. He fears you already, or he
would never have done it this way."

"Before the year is out, you will look down from paradise and see him
burning in hell."

"I'm sorry. I was never strong enough to be a Mameluke."

"No. You _are_ strong."

"Not strong enough to live," said Nicetas, so faintly Daoud could hardly
hear him. "Good-bye, Daoud. Remember the Greek I taught you. You may
meet someone else who speaks Greek."

"I will never meet anyone like you." The tears spilled out over his
eyelids, and he did not try to brush them away. The hand he held
squeezed his, weakly, then relaxed.

Daoud bent forward and touched his mouth to the split, dust-coated lips