And Daoud knew that he did not want to see Nicetas die before his eyes.
He would not allow it.
Only moments ago rage had raised a great storm within him, but now his mind was like the desert after the storm has passed, still and empty. Like the desert, he felt himself full of a terrible power.
Without any more thought he stepped out into the ring behind Kassar and shouted, "Kassar! Enough!"
The Tartar whirled, holding the dabbus at shoulder height.
"Stay out of this, pigshit Frank."
"Let him be, Kassar." Almost all Daoud's attention was on Kassar, but a part of his mind was free to wonder why he felt no fear at all. Somehow, he was not sure how, the hours with Saadi had something to do with it.
"Put that down," Daoud said, pointing at the dabbus.
"In your head!" Kassar shouted, and charged at him.
Daoud kept his eyes on Kassar's, but in the edge of his vision he saw the ridged mass of iron, heavy enough to crack a steel helmet, rushing toward his head—his head protected only by a cloth cap.