ed
the crossbow he had taken from the guard at the Tartar's tent, and
strapped the quiver of bolts to his waist.

The gelding expelled a breath as he threw himself on its back.

Rachel was still screaming, but he could not make out her words over his
horse's hoofbeats as he galloped away.

"Forgive me!" he cried over his shoulder.

LXIX

Daoud's dark brown Arabian stallion sidestepped a knot of fighting men.
Daoud's heart beat slowly and heavily in his chest like a funeral bell.
The field was still a chaos. The battle was still in doubt. But in
individual combats more of Manfred's men than Charles's were falling.
Daoud had seen--and it had made him almost angry enough to want to break
out of his formation and pursue them--a group of Apulian crossbowmen
running off the field. Bands of Charles's knights were getting together
and overwhelming smaller bands of Manfred's.

It was the power of Christianity, Daoud thought. Charles's men had been
told by the pope himself that they were crusaders waging a holy war and
would be taken up into heaven if they died in battle. Manfred's
Christian warriors had been excommunicated, without the sacraments, for
over a year, and many of them believed that if they were killed they
would go to hell. Daoud could not be sure how strongly the men on either
side felt about these things, but it could be enough to tilt the battle
slowly in Charles's favor.

On Manfred's side, the only ones who felt they were waging a holy war
were the Sons of the Falcon.

Daoud recalled Lorenzo's words to Manfred months before: _I have never
in my life doubted the_ power _of religion, Sire._

Manfred himself had disappeared into one of these whirlpools of combat.
Daoud had searched everywhere for Erhard Barth, who should be pulling
Manfred's army together and giving orders, if Manfred would not do it
himself. He could find the marshal nowhere. There were no plans. There
were no leaders.

The Arabian's broad back rolled easily under him. He had kept the Sons
of the Falcon in formation, ordering them to advance, hoping for a
chance to strike a decisive blow. Staying out of the fighting they
passed, moving around the groups of struggling men and reforming ranks,
was frustrating for his men, but so far their discipline had held.

Staying together had protected them too. He estimated he had lost only
about twenty men so far.

Music, familiar martial music of the kind he had often heard in El
Kah