Daoud's heartbeat quickened and he tensed when his turn came to pass.
"Come here. Lower your hood," the man said.
Walking slowly toward him, Daoud reached up and pushed back his hood.
The official raised thick black brows and beckoned to a guard. "If he makes a move you do not like, skewer him."
"Yes, Messer Lorenzo."
Daoud felt a stiffness in his neck and a knot in his belly. King Manfred's chancellor, Aziz, had written that Daoud would be quietly admitted to the town.
The heavyset, black-bearded Muslim soldier took a spear from the boy standing near him and leveled it at Daoud, his face hard.
"Now then," said Lorenzo, "give us your sword."
This overzealous guard captain, or whatever he was, was paying too much attention to him. But to avoid more attention, he must readily cooperate. He unbuckled his sword belt and held it out. Another Muslim guard took it and stepped beyond Daoud's reach.
Messer Lorenzo said, "Open your pack and show me what is in it."