Again, reality and fiction blurred in my mind. I frowned as I tried to think what to do next.She sniffled slightly, and a tear tracked from the corner...of her eye, across her cheek to be absorbed by the cover on the bed.The hand around my heart squeezed again, and I closed my eyes against the pain."I'm sorry... I can't do this anymore," I said suddenly, standing, turning and reaching into the canvas bag, pulling out a red Swiss army knife. With a fingernail, I unfolded a pair of small metal. But a sign of the times. I remained safe and relatively comfortable in the caravan… and the wives. But, Dorylaeum changed all that. Dorylaeum made me a man.At Dorylaeum we faced the Turkish hoard. Their cavalry swarmed over us like a biblical plague. That was bad enough, but we had also been abandoned by the Latins... left to fend for ourselves. Vastly out numbered, all looked lost.Under the intense heat we thought like devils. But Franks fell in their droves and soon holes began to appear in. More

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