im.

"Lorenzo, they are Filippeschi," he muttered. "Talk to them."

"There is no talking to _them_, Messer David," said Sordello. "They are
out for your blood."

"Be still," said Daoud. The man had offered his services. Let him
confine himself to serving, then.

Lorenzo stepped out in front of Daoud, his sword still out before him,
but angled toward the ground.

"Messeres, at least you should know who it is that you have set out to
kill. I am Giancarlo of Naples, and this is my master, David. He is a
merchant from Trebizond, which is very far away. Much too far for him
to have any connection with the quarrels of Orvieto."

One of the Filippeschi bravos, a short man standing to the left of the
slender leader, said, "You spin a tale to try to fool us. Anyone can see
your master is a Frenchman. Too many damned French in Italy. The
Monaldeschi are toadies of the French. Death to the Monaldeschi, and
death to the French!"

What a bitter fate it would be, Daoud thought, if his Frankish looks,
which caused him to be sent here, earned him his death in a stupid
street fight.

"There are six of you," said Lorenzo. "But now that these four men have
joined us, there are six of us. Bad odds for you, because no matter how
much you harm us, you will certainly come out of this quarrel worse off
than you went into it." Lowering his sword even more, he stepped closer
to the young man with the silver badge on his cap. "Signore. Which of
these men are you willing to lose, to pay for the privilege of hurting
us?" With his free hand he pointed from man to man in the circle of six.
"That man? That one? That one? Yourself?"

"We will start with you!" the short man shouted.

He lunged at Lorenzo, his sword thrusting straight for Lorenzo's chest.

Lorenzo's sword was up in an instant, parrying the short man's attack.
At the same moment, out of the corner of his eye Daoud saw Sordello's
arm flash up, then down.

The short man gave a cry and stumbled. He staggered a few steps, then
collapsed in a heap at the feet of one of the other Filippeschi bravos.

Lorenzo stepped back so that he and Sordello flanked Daoud. Sordello's
three men moved up beside them, one to the left, two to the right.

"You may see to the man who is hurt," said Lorenzo. "Unless you want to
continue."

"If he is only hurt, I should retire to a monastery." Sordello laughed.
Indeed, Daoud saw that the man on the ground was not moving.

_I do not like this Sord