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"I think it would be better if you-" The plate of ma'amoul on the little hexagonal coffeetable caught Salah ad-Din's eye and he broke off. When had those arrived? He didn't remember sending for them. He shook his head and peered nervously round the tent. He and King Baldwin were alone, and the guards were posted just outside the open flap where they had been all day. Absentmindedness, that was all. The steward must have sent them in earlier."If I what?" prompted Baldwin, slightly unnerved.Salah ad-Din's gaze strayed out into the desert to the east. "Did you ever meet anyone called Rashid ad-Din Sinan?""No, I don't think so. Why?""No reason. Only the cookies put me in mind of something."Behind his mask Baldwin's eyes narrowed."Another siege, before you took your throne, I think. Are you sure you didn't know him?""Describe him."Salah ad-Din waved a hand. "Eldritch powers? Lived in a mountaintop fortress? Proclaimed Judgement Day or somesuch? Had a taste for political murder?"Baldwin shifted slightly on his stool. "You mean Sheikh al-Jabal? No- I mean of course I know of him- but I never met him. Why?""He sent me ma'amoul. In the middle of the night. With a politely-worded 'please go away' note pinned to them with a knife. They weren't poison, as far as we could tell, but the food-taster did come over very strange for a few hours after he ate them."Baldwin's eyes narrowed. "What happened then?""There was an alliance between Damascus and Masyaf, and I threw away the rest of the cookies."Baldwin mumbled under his breath. "A shame.""What's that?""Oh. Very strange, I said." He reached for a cookie.