ower to advantage. They must close with their
enemy. We fight from a distance, raining arrows down upon them. If the
enemy pursues you, flee until he wearies himself and spreads his lines
out. Then rush in and cut him to pieces. Attack the enemy when he is not
expecting it."

"That might do well enough in the deserts of Outremer," said Manfred,
"but European warfare is different. There are mountains and rivers and
forests. We cannot spread out all over the landscape."

Daoud threw an exasperated look at Lorenzo, whose dark eyes were
sympathetic, but who shook his head slightly, as if to warn Daoud to be
politic in his argument with the king.

"There is one principle that you can adopt from Mameluke warfare," said
Daoud, choosing not to contradict Manfred, "and that is speed."

"Our Swabian knights and our Saracen warriors ride as swiftly as any in
Europe," Barth growled.

"Once they get moving," said Lorenzo sharply.

_He isn't always politic himself_, thought Daoud.

"Forgive me for speaking boldly, Sire," said Daoud, "but a whole summer
has gone by since Pope Clement proclaimed a crusade against you and
declared that your crown belongs to Charles d'Anjou. And there has been
no fighting. Is this what you mean by European warfare? In the time it
takes Europeans to get ready for one war, we Mamelukes would have fought
five wars."

As he spoke he proudly recalled what an Arab poet had written of the
Mamelukes: _They charge like lightning and arrive like thunder._

Manfred turned to watch the riders. A royal privilege, Daoud thought, to
conduct an argument at one's chosen pace. He pushed down the urge to say
more, forced himself to be patient, waited tensely for Manfred to reply
in his own time.

He felt a movement beside him and turned to see that Lorenzo had moved
closer to him. He gave Lorenzo a pleading look, trying to ask him to
join the discussion. Manfred respected Lorenzo and listened to him.

Lorenzo replied with a frown and a nod. He seemed to be saying he would
speak up when he judged the moment right.

When the men who had cast came around to the opposite side of the
circle, fresh lances thrust upright in the ground by their servants were
waiting for them. Each warrior leaned out of the saddle, seized a lance,
and rode back around at top speed to throw at the target again.

After a moment, Manfred turned back to Daoud and said, "Charles d'Anjou
has been hanging about in Rome all through the sprin