act of love. Try as she might to muffle her sounds, she was certain in
the final surge to lose control. He was sure Manfred's other officers
quartered in this house must hear her.

Well, let them hear her, and envy him.

She let him rest upon her, happily released, until his body withdrew
itself from her.

A shadow crossed his mind.

_That may have been the last time for us._

They lay side by side. A faint light penetrated the bed curtains from
somewhere in their room, and by that light he could see her smiling. He
smiled back, but his body was growing tense. Fear of what he would face
in the hours to come was building inside him.

The face he loved, the warmth of her body so close to his, made him wish
he need never leave this bed. His arms and legs felt heavy, rebellious.
If he commanded them to move away from her, they would not.

_In truth, I would have to be mad to want to go out and butcher infidels
rather than stay here with Sophia._

But he could not stay with her. Today would decide everything. He forced
his reluctant limbs to push him away from her. She did not try to hold
him.

Outside the heavy bed curtains, the air in the room felt cold as death.

Standing alone in the middle of the floor, he felt a sickening void of
apprehension in his belly. As Sheikh Saadi had taught him, he faced his
fear. He was terrified of death and defeat. Probably there had never
been a warrior anywhere in the world who had not felt this way on the
morning of a battle. Probably the Prophet himself, before battle, had
feared for himself and for those he loved.

_I cannot control today's outcome, for myself or for the men I fight
beside. But I can dedicate my mind and heart and will and limbs to God.
I can fight for Him to the uttermost of my strength. Passive toward God,
active toward the world._

Naked, he walked to the door leading to the balcony and pushed it
partway open. A draft of even chillier air made his skin prickle and
fluttered the flame of the candle Husain had lit when he woke them. The
sky was still black and full of stars. Dawn was a long way off.

He was on the third story of this house in Benevento and could see over
the roofs of most of the surrounding houses. Men hurried through the
streets swinging lanterns. The drum was still beating a rapid tattoo in
the near distance, joined now by horses' hooves clattering on the
cobblestones. Here and there a candle glowed behind shutters. Far away,
proba