"Benevento is a Guelfo town," said Manfred, "and deserves to have us move in on it and quarter our troops there. The town is at the end of a long valley that runs north to south. The opening at the north end of the valley is a narrow pass. Anjou's army must come through that pass. They will find it easier to get into the valley than to get out, because we will be waiting for them."
Daoud felt a surge of exasperation, and quickly pushed it back down. Anger would not help him.
"Waiting for them?" he said. "If we are making war, we do not want to meet them."
Manfred frowned. "If we drive them up against the north end of the valley, we will have them trapped." Manfred smashed his fist into his palm. "There will be nowhere for them to escape to."
He is getting tired of my giving advice that contradicts the way he thinks things should be done. After all, he did win battles before I came here.
But to simply meet Charles's army face-to-face, like two bulls butting heads, seemed lunacy to Daoud.
"Such a battle will be bad for both sides," he said. "We will butcher each other."
Perhaps I should have spent less time training my men and more trying to teach Manfred.
"We do outnumber them," said Manfred testily.
"And if every one of their men kills one of ours and every one of our men kills one of theirs, there should be a few of our men left at the end of the battle. Do you call that a victory?"