"Twenty years ago, Sire. For most of those years I have served my lord Baibars al-Bunduqdari, who is now Sultan of Cairo."
"And you are a Muslim?"
"Of course, Sire."
Manfred stood up and came close to him. "Of course? You say that so firmly. Do you not remember the Christian teachings of your childhood?"
The question made Daoud angry. My soul is undivided. King or not, how dare this infidel question that!
"God willed that I find the truth, Sire," he said simply.
Manfred shrugged. "It is all the same to me. I have lived among Muslims all my life."
"May I know, Sire, why your secretary, to whom my master sent me in good faith, tried to kill me?" Daoud asked.
Manfred turned his back on Daoud and strolled a short distance down the pebble path. "Lorenzo is neither my secretary nor does he normally command my gate guards. He performs for me unusual tasks that require a man of uncommon courage, loyalty, and wit. Such as testing you—first, by taking you prisoner, then by giving you pork and wine and speaking to you in Arabic, finally by trying to kill you."
"But I might have killed him."