Gently Daoud freed himself from Sophia's embrace. "Insh'Allah, God
willing, I will return to you."
He turned to the door. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to run,
or to draw his sword and try to fight his way out. He cringed inwardly
from the thought of imprisonment and torture. He remembered the poor
madman whose body they had torn apart with red-hot pincers. He forced
himself not to tremble. He took the first step toward the door, then
another.
_God, make me strong in the face of my enemies._