w his arms wide. His lance dropped
as he leaned sideways from his saddle. He crashed to the ground and
disappeared under the hooves of the horses behind his. His lance fell
across the paths of the oncoming crusaders and another of the big war
horses tripped over it, dumping its rider.

All along the crusaders' front, knights were spilling from their
saddles, horses were falling, lances were flying.

_Over a hundred years they have fought us, and they have never learned
to use the bow from the saddle._

Many riders in the crusaders' front rank were still galloping toward
them. And more in the rear ranks were dodging or leaping the fallen
knights and horses. Daoud whipped a second arrow from the quiver hanging
at his side, nocked it, and took quick aim.

His arrow went true again. He saw the targeted man fall. And the Sons of
the Falcon were pouring volleys of arrows into the Franks. Every third
crusader, in the front ranks at least, must be a dead man.

Daoud heard himself yelling in triumph. If they broke this first French
charge, the rest of Manfred's army could sweep the field clear of the
enemy.

The charge was slowing down, but it was still coming on.

"Split ranks! Pass them on either side!" Daoud called to Omar, who
relayed the order to the flag men.

Daoud heard a sound like an earthquake behind him and looked around. The
elite of the German knights, Manfred's Swabians, were galloping on in an
arrowhead formation. If the French knights and their horses were big,
the Swabians looked even bigger. He saw the nodding green plumes of
Manfred's helmet at the very point of the wedge. The surcoats of knights
and horses were ablaze with red and blue, orange and yellow.

Beyond Manfred's knights Daoud saw lines of crossbowmen formed up before
the walls of Benevento. Sophia was there in that little town. He wanted
to keep himself between Sophia and the French.

But Omar had relayed his order to the flag men and the yellow and green
flags had gone up, and, disciplined as any of his men, he rode off to
the left, turning the side of his Arabian toward the onrushing
crusaders.

When he reached the right flank of Charles's knights, he turned again so
that he was riding past them. He fired arrow after arrow as he went, as
fast as he could and still hit his mark.

He saw a tall figure in a red surcoat with a red helmet shaped like a
bishop's miter. Almost certainly de Verceuil. The cardinal brandished a
club with an