silently as you can."

Abruptly, holding tight to Daoud's wrist, Lorenzo made a sharp left turn
into an alley so narrow it was almost invisible. It was scarcely more
than a quintana, a tunnel rather than an alley; the overhanging second
stories of the houses on either side actually had a wall in common.

Lorenzo pulling him, Daoud broke into a trot. All around them was a hot
blackness reeking of decay. Daoud could hear creatures scrabbling out of
his way. Ahead was a bluish oblong--the end of the tunnel and the
moonlit space beyond it.

They stopped abruptly. Lorenzo swung Daoud's arm down and stepped away
from him, gripping him briefly by the shoulders to brace him.

"Now you must clear your head, Messer David. I hear them coming. I think
they saw us duck in here. Get out your sword or your dagger, whatever
suits you best, and get ready to fight."

Daoud heard the sound of running boots. He tried to guess how many
pursuers there were, but his head was not clear enough of wine fumes for
that. He fell against the rough plaster wall. Could he and Lorenzo break
through a doorway into a house and hide there? No, the people within
would probably give them away.

He heard the slithering sound of Lorenzo's sword being drawn. He decided
not to use the Scorpion. It would take too long to load and cock it, and
if he fumbled, he would be cut down without a second chance.

His mind was fairly clear of the toxic power of al-koahl, but his body,
still in its grip, felt half dead to him.

_How can I fight, as dizzy as I am? Thou hast said it, O God, wine is an
abomination. Forgive me for drinking it, and help me now._

He reached for his sword, the handsome new one he had bought in Orvieto.
He drew it out slowly, as quietly as he could, and hefted it in his
hand. A bit late now to wonder how it would stand up in a fight.

The running footsteps stopped suddenly. Looking at the end of the alley,
Daoud saw figures silhouetted by the moonlight. He heard voices
murmuring. Then the figures seemed to fill the rectangular mouth of the
alley. There seemed to be six of them. They moved slowly, cautiously.

"Capons," whispered Lorenzo. "Afraid to charge us. Let us move to where
there is light to fight by."

He pulled Daoud after him. Daoud felt his head clearing. He could hear
better and, despite the darkness, see better. But he staggered as they
ran out of the alley.

They found themselves in a campiello, a courtyard surrounded b