"I am ordered to speak openly only to you and your secretary Aziz," said Daoud, his glance shifting to Lorenzo.
"Ah, you did not know, then, that Aziz is the name Lorenzo Celino uses when he writes to the Sultan of Cairo for me?"
Lorenzo Celino—Aziz? Daoud turned to Celino and laughed with delighted surprise.
"You write excellent Arabic. I would never have guessed that you were not one of us."
Lorenzo accepted Daoud's compliment with a small bow.
"One of us?" said Manfred. "And what are you, then, Messere? I see before me a strapping man, blond enough to be one of my Swabian knights, yet who claims to come from the Sultan of Cairo. You are no Arab or Turk."
"Indeed not, Sire," said Daoud. "I am a Mameluke."
"A blond Mameluke." Manfred nodded. "Where are you from, then, Russia or Circassia?"
Without emotion Daoud told the king of his descent from crusaders and his capture by the Muslims.
"What a strange world this is," said Manfred. "And when did this happen to you?"