Crusader (Anarchy Book 14)

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Crusader (Anarchy Book 14) Page 1

by Griff Hosker




  Crusader

  Book 14

  in the

  Anarchy Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2017

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Thanks to Simon Walpole for the Artwork and Design for Writers for the cover and logo. Thanks to Dave, Kent and Julie, three of my New Zealand readers, for giving me such an enjoyable time in the Antipodes.

  Book list

  Ancient History

  The Sword of Cartimandua Series (Germania and Britannia 50A.D. – 128 A.D.)

  Ulpius Felix- Roman Warrior (prequel)

  Book 1 The Sword of Cartimandua

  Book 2 The Horse Warriors

  Book 3 Invasion Caledonia

  Book 4 Roman Retreat

  Book 5 Revolt of the Red Witch

  Book 6 Druid’s Gold

  Book 7 Trajan’s Hunters

  Book 8 The Last Frontier

  Book 9 Hero of Rome

  Book 10 Roman Hawk

  Book 11 Roman Treachery

  Book 12 Roman Wall

  The Aelfraed Series (Britain and Byzantium 1050 A.D. - 1085 A.D.

  Book 1 Housecarl

  Book 2 Outlaw

  Book 3 Varangian

  The Wolf Warrior series (Britain in the late 6th Century)

  Book 1 Saxon Dawn

  Book 2 Saxon Revenge

  Book 3 Saxon England

  Book 4 Saxon Blood

  Book 5 Saxon Slayer

  Book 6 Saxon Slaughter

  Book 7 Saxon Bane

  Book 8 Saxon Fall: Rise of the Warlord

  Book 9 Saxon Throne

  The Dragon Heart Series

  Book 1 Viking Slave

  Book 2 Viking Warrior

  Book 3 Viking Jarl

  Book 4 Viking Kingdom

  Book 5 Viking Wolf

  Book 6 Viking War

  Book 7 Viking Sword

  Book 8 Viking Wrath

  Book 9 Viking Raid

  Book 10 Viking Legend

  Book 11 Viking Vengeance

  Book 12 Viking Dragon

  Book 13 Viking Treasure

  Book 14 Viking Enemy

  Book 15 Viking Witch

  Bool 16 Viking Blood

  Book 17 Viking Weregeld (May 2017)

  The Norman Genesis Series

  Rolf

  Horseman

  The Battle for a Home

  Revenge of the Franks

  The Land of the Northmen

  The Anarchy Series England 1120-1180

  English Knight

  Knight of the Empress

  Northern Knight

  Baron of the North

  Earl

  King Henry’s Champion

  The King is Dead

  Warlord of the North

  Enemy at the Gate

  Warlord's War

  Kingmaker

  Henry II

  Crusader

  Modern History

  The Napoleonic Horseman Series

  Book 1 Chasseur a Cheval

  Book 2 Napoleon’s Guard

  Book 3 British Light Dragoon

  Book 4 Soldier Spy

  Book 5 1808: The Road to Corunna

  Waterloo

  The Lucky Jack American Civil War series

  Rebel Raiders

  Confederate Rangers

  The Road to Gettysburg

  The British Ace Series

  1914

  1915 Fokker Scourge

  1916 Angels over the Somme

  1917 Eagles Fall

  1918 We will remember them

  From Arctic Snow to Desert Sand

  Combined Operations series 1940-1945

  Commando

  Raider

  Behind Enemy Lines

  Dieppe

  Toehold in Europe

  Sword Beach

  Breakout

  The Battle for Antwerp

  King Tiger

  Other Books

  Carnage at Cannes (a thriller)

  Great Granny’s Ghost (Aimed at 9-14-year-old young people)

  Adventure at 63-Backpacking to Istanbul

  Dedicated to two future princes: my grandsons Samuel and Thomas!

  Part One

  Aqua Bella

  Prologue

  The Pillars of Hercules 1146

  We had been at sea for more than a week now. I was at the stern of my father’s ship, ‘Adela’, with William of Kingston, the captain. My men had their sea legs and our horses were settled. They were the positive points. It was crowded and smelly aboard the ship. I was not the greatest of sailors. I took the discomfort and smell as part of my penance. I had given up the manor of Ouistreham and now I as William of Stockton once more. I was the son of the Earl of Cleveland, Warlord of the North and the Empress’ Champion. None of that meant very much now. I had left the service of my father and my lord, Geoffrey, Count of Anjou. I had failed as a knight. I had sinned and failed to be true to the oath I had taken in the chapel in Stockton. God had seen fit to punish me by inflicting a plague upon my wife, children and retainers. They were all dead and I was going to the Holy Land in an attempt to atone for my sins and to do penance by serving the cross and reclaiming the Holy Land for God.

  My men had tried to cheer me up during the first days of the voyage, but my mood was still black. My father had tried to tell me that I was not conducting myself as a knight should and I had ignored him. I had been seduced by the behaviour of the Count of Anjou and his court. He philandered and had a constant stream of women and I had not emulated my father but the Count. I had paid a heavy price. It was another reason why I had left Normandy and Anjou. My father was fighting to regain Normandy and England for the Empress Maud and her son, Henry. If I had been there then I would have had a constant reminder of my mistakes. It was better that I be forgotten. I would not spend my life in the Holy Land. I would seek a sign that God had forgiven me and then I would return to England. I was not Norman. I was English born of an English father and an English mother. I was, like my father, an English knight.

  I turned to look at my men who were gambling on the deck. It passed the time. Two were playing chess others were gambling and carving bone. I had ten men with me. My squire, Tom son of Aelric, was playing chess with Robert of Mont St. Michel. He was my captain and had served with me the longest. Henri, Louis, Guy and Phillippe were my men at arms. They were Norman. My four archers, Garth of Sheffield, Walther of Derby, William of Lincoln and Ralph of Ely were all English. They had been trained by my father’s Captain, Dick. That meant they were not only archers but skilled swordsmen. It was not a large retinue but it was mine. They were all oathsworn and loyal beyond belief. Each had chosen to come with me and I took that as both a compliment and an honour.

  William said, quietly, “Lord.”

  “Yes William?”

  “We have a decision to make. Do we sail directly for Cyprus and the Holy Land or do we head for Italy and keep close to the coast?”

  “I take it there is a reason behind your question.” Even as I said it I knew that I was being unnecessar
ily prickly.

  “The direct route is quicker but, apart from Malta, it is a sea filled with Arab Dhows and Moorish pirates. We have but twenty men aboard to fight them off. It is not enough.”

  I smiled, “Then the coast would seem a better choice.”

  He seemed relieved. “In which case, we will head towards Genoa. We can buy supplies there. To the west is the land of the Arabs. Sometimes they can be hospitable but it is never certain. The Genoese are different; they are Christian and they like money!”

  “Take us there.”

  As he put the rudder over the wind seemed to make us fly. I took it as a sign and I smiled.

  Chapter 1

  My father had offered to give me money to aid me in my quest. I could not accept his offer. I had let him down enough. He had never chastised me. Whatever we did would be by our own efforts. We passed the island of Corsica and then a storm came out of nowhere. It drove us northwest. We were heading away from Genoa. My men were not ones to sit by while others toiled. All eleven of us helped the crew. It was fortunate that we did. I am not certain that we would have survived. When the storm was over the sails were in tatters and we were exhausted. Worse was to come. Two of our precious horses had died during the storm. We found them when Robert and Tom went below decks to check how they had fared in the storm. We had to have horses.

  “Captain, head for shore. We need to repair your ship and to buy more horses.”

  He nodded, “Reluctantly I must agree. I am not entirely certain of our position but we will head north and see what we can find.”

  He put Henri the Breton on the rudder and he fetched his charts. “Genoa is here, to the east. There is Nissa; that is Genoese and is a big port.”

  “Are we close?”

  William looked at the sun and shook his head, “The storm blew us off course. I could not say with any certainty where we actually are.”

  “Then we head north and trust to God.”

  A few hours later land hove into view and we saw a line of small islands. William smiled as Henri said, “Those are the Lérins. We are forty miles west of Nissa. There is a port on the landward side. It is small but they may have what we need.” He pointed to the bow; the storm had damaged the bow spit. We could still sail but, as the captain had explained, not as quickly as he would like.

  In the distance, I saw two ports to the east and the west of the line of islands. I could see ships’ masts. “Which port will you use?”

  “I know neither of them, lord.” He pointed to the one which lay further east. “That one has no castle. We will try there.”

  “You fear a castle?”

  “Lord we are in neither England nor Normandy. Your father is a benevolent lord and treats strangers well but here? Better we avoid a place where we can be imprisoned for being foreign.”

  I suddenly realised that he was right. I had left a world which I knew and where I was known. I was heading for a land where none knew me and all were, potentially, my enemies. I went to Robert and Tom. “Better have the men don their mail. We may be going ashore.”

  Tom asked, “Are we in danger, lord?”

  “We may be but it will do no harm to put on our mail in any case. It will show us if the voyage has harmed it.”

  The archers had an easier task. They wore just leather vests for armour. They would not need their bows which were left wrapped in sheepskin. If we took care with our mail they took twice that with their bows. My archers would be a weapon which might well surprise the Seljuqs if they chose to attack us. My men could send an arrow further than any other weapon. They used the long war bow. Trained from childhood, the archers had powerful arms and chests. They could release a dozen arrows in the time it took horses to charge them. Sixty arrows could bring down horses and pierce mail. My men at arms watched over the archers. They knew the value of their presence.

  “Do we wear our surcoats, lord?”

  Our surcoats protected our mail and showed who we were. We had a wolf device on the right of the chest, like my father. Since I had left him I had felt guilty about disgracing his name and his device. Robert knew this, hence the question. I shook my head, “We will, when time allows, have new surcoats made. We will also have new devices on our shields. This is a new start and a new beginning.”

  “Aye lord.”

  As we drew close I saw that it had a stone sea wall to narrow the entrance. That was its only defence. The more westerly port had a citadel on a high piece of ground overlooking the port. This was a more workaday port. There were no merchant vessels. We would be the largest. The rest of the vessels were fishing boats. There were only a few of them. I saw, on a high piece of ground perhaps five miles or so away, was another citadel. It was just a tower and a wall but it showed that this area suffered raids.

  “Will you find what you need here, captain?”

  “It is timber and a little rope. We have a spare yard and a mast. I am certain they will have what we need. And we can replenish our water.”

  “Should I try to buy supplies?”

  “We have salted meat but fresh bread and some fruit might be in order.”

  It would be good to go ashore. “Tom, I will go ashore with you and Robert. Garth, you and the others guard the ship. Keep weapons handy and a good watch.”

  “Aye lord.”

  We tied up and I stepped ashore. I had coins. My father had also given William a small chest to give to me when we were at sea. I think he knew I would have refused to take his charity. That was below decks. I was not certain how we would earn coin in the Holy Land. I prayed that, as we were doing God’s work, he would provide.

  “What is the name of this land, lord?” Tom or as we called him when he had made a mistake, Thomas, was a curious youth.

  “We are in the Holy Roman Empire. This is Lombardy and Genoa is the most powerful city on this coast. She is a city state. Her sailors are renowned. They carry the red cross on a white background. Pirates fear them. Or so the captain told me.”

  Tom was English. His father served my own and this was all new to him. He was a keen squire but, being the son of an archer, he had much to learn about the outside world.

  “What language will they speak?”

  I laughed, “Not English, that is for sure. They will understand my Norman I have no doubt.”

  We stepped ashore. It was not a large place. There was no city wall. It was close enough to the other port for the people to take refuge in case of a Seljuq or Berber attack. We had swords but we had left our helmets on the ship. We followed our noses to the bakery which was just fifty paces from the port. To get to it we passed the fishermen’s stalls. There was little fish left. The ones who had recently returned from sea had sold most of it. Henri the Breton caught fish for us from the ship. We needed no fish.

  We bought a large quantity of bread. I gave the baker’s boy a copper coin to carry it to the ship and we headed to the market. We had arrived late and the best had been sold but we managed to buy some fruit, onions, beans and carrots. Once again I paid for them to be taken to the ship and we continued our search. There was little meat to be had. I bought a large amphora of the local wine. It was a pale red, almost pink in colour. They did not have much choice.

  As we neared the ship I heard the sound of hooves. Eight men galloped up from the west. They were between us and the ship. Three of them wore mail and all carried a shield. The shields had four red stars on a yellow background. I said, quietly, “This may be danger. Keep close.”

  They all wore helmets but they were the open helmet without a nasal. The Lombards had similar weapons and armour to us but there were differences. I did not hurry. We had not yet been seen.

  Garth and the archers were standing by the stern. All had the bows strung but they had them by their side. My four men at arms flanked William of Kingston.

  As we approached, unseen, we heard the conversation “I am Robert of Nissa and my father is the Count of Provence! You are trespassing on his land!”

  I
saw William bow, “I am sorry, lord, we meant no offence. Our ship was damaged. We came here to repair it.”

  “That is not good enough. You are Normans by your dress and accent.”

  “English lord.”

  The warrior whose back was to me laughed, “It matters not what kind of dog you are, the Franks whether English or Norman are all the same.”

  Garth had an arrow ready in a flash and he said, “Do not insult us lord, or you will die!”

  “How dare you threaten me! I will have you all in chains!” He drew his sword.

  I stepped close to him, “I would advise you to sheathe your weapons, Robert of Nissa. If my man sends his arrow your way I guarantee that you will die.”

  He glared down at me, “And who are you that I should heed your words?”

  “Just a pilgrim in God’s service on his way to the Holy Land. We mean no harm and your conduct is not seemly for a knight.” I turned, “Tom, Robert go aboard.”

  Robert of Nissa’s sword came across my chest. I looked up at the knight. He was younger than I was. His armour was the scale type favoured by Lombards but he did not look like an experienced warrior. I did not want his blood on my hands. Using the back of my mail mittens I moved it out of the way. “Have a care young Lombard. I am being patient with you but if you do not move the sword then I cannot answer for my men.”

  “I am not afraid of a few Englishmen.”

  I shook my head, “Garth, show him!”

  The arrow was well aimed, as I knew it would be. It passed before my face and over the sword. It hit the cantle and went through. It scored a line on the rump of his horse. The horse reared and the rider barely kept his seat. He was forced to move his sword and I had mine out in an instant and, as he brought his mount under control, I put the tip to his throat.

  “Now sheathe your weapon and tell your men to sheathe theirs. If not then this will be a bloodbath!”

  His face was effused with rage but he could do nothing. “Very well but I will remember this meeting!” He sheathed his sword.

 

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