Emily was unsure what to make of this. ‘Why do you care so much?’
Simon looked away. ‘Emily, you have spirit, and I... I like you. You’re confident and unafraid, and that’s good, but I’m worried you will soon be killed after taking one too many chances.’
Emily was surprised at Simon’s concern. Surely he had other things to worry about than her safety? But he seemed to be telling the truth.
‘You did have me thrown in the prison pit,’ she reminded him.
Simon smiled, embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. That was a misunderstanding. You’re free to come and go as you please, you’re not my slave. Just don’t tell Godfrey I told you that.’
Lechasseur walked up behind them. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘Promise me you’ll stay,’ Simon urged Emily.
She nodded. ‘Okay then, but just for this raid. The next time you go into the city, I’ll be there.’ She turned to Lechasseur. ‘I’m going to look after things here, keep an eye out in case there are any more murders.’
‘Everything you need should be ready by sundown tomorrow,’ Simon informed Lechasseur. ‘I’ll have some people ready to accompany you.’
‘Thanks,’ Lechasseur said. He shook Simon’s hand – the first time their skins had touched – and a momentary look of concern flashed across his face, before he grinned widely once more. He glanced at Emily and saw that she had noticed his reaction. She frowned at him, and he gave a quick shake of his head before moving over to the group of advisors. He asked them again about the coin, then shook hands with several of them as he took his leave.
When he had done, he escorted Emily out of the tent and off to a quiet area away from the throng of people.
‘What was that all about?’ she asked, once they were alone.
Lechasseur had a grave expression on his face. ‘Something terrible is going to happen,’ he whispered. ‘Their time snakes aren’t right. Simon’s is like nothing I’ve ever seen before, and the others... They’re supposed to stretch on for many years, but they all seem to stop abruptly. Within the next few days. I don’t know how to describe it... It’s like I can see the path their life is supposed to take, but the snake has been cut in two, terminated before its time.’
‘But what does that mean?’
Lechasseur sighed. ‘Emily, I think whatever our time travelling knight is doing, he’s messing with history on such a level that thousands of people are going to die before their time because of him. Whoever he is, once we’ve found him, we have to stop him.’
Lechasseur spent the next day studying plans of the city, and talking to people who had been there before, to find the best way to move around undetected. Simon had assigned two of his vassals, Timothy and Edward, and a warrior preacher, a man named Peter, to accompany him on his foray. As Lechasseur watched the sun set, the small raiding party made its final preparations to infiltrate the city. The rumours he’d picked up from his fellow prisoners were that the crusaders never went near the city other than to attack in daylight, that their patience and ability to wait for months on end was what most worried the people of Antioch. But as he heard the chatter of Timothy and Edward, he realised that this was actually the latest in a long line of raids into the city. Simon had assured him that Antioch’s military forces would be defending the main city gates and would not be bothered with three stragglers from the enemy camp, but he was still worried. They could be killed on sight. He was also concerned about having a preacher come with them, but the vassals seemed insistent that it was necessary to ensure God watched over and protected their expedition.
Timothy and Edward were young men from Flanders who, since moving into Simon’s service, had established themselves as accomplished spies thanks to successfully making it past the city defences on three previous occasions. The omens looked as good as could be hoped for. Lechasseur wasn’t exactly sure what he expected to find in the city, but he had strong suspicions that he was far more likely to find his prey there than outside the city walls. He hoped he would be able to find an excuse to separate from the others in order to conduct his search. He guessed that with his complexion he would be able to move about undetected, but it was still a risky operation. He had visions of everything going swimmingly, only for him to be killed by an arrow as he returned to the crusader camp, them seeing nothing but a dark face and not realising who he was. But one step at a time. First he had to find the old man.
‘So how dangerous is this?’ Lechasseur wondered as he struggled to insert a sword into a scabbard he had tied around his waist, before giving up and taking a large dagger instead.
‘We must be careful,’ Peter said. ‘Two of our friends were lost to the devils last time we tried. Only we returned.’
Timothy gestured to the torch-lit camp behind them. ‘Our people are starving, we have little choice. Antioch has been under siege for months now, but they must have more supplies than we realised. They would have capitulated by now otherwise. We have to take the chance, for the survival of our kinfolk.’
Edward grunted and gestured a thumb at Lechasseur. ‘How do we know he won’t betray us?’
Lechasseur raised a hand to calm the suspicious crusader. ‘I know about bartering and trading for scarce items of food. Just give me the chance to get you some supplies, then you’ll see I’m no threat to you.’
Timothy nodded enthusiastically. ‘Simon tells us he’s a merchant, Edward. If we encounter any difficulty, he may be able to deceive the Saracen into letting us leave with our quarry. I am tired of eating rats and thistles.’
‘And I don’t exactly look Norman either,’ Lechasseur reminded them. The crusaders thought on this, then nodded, Edward’s suspicions at least temporarily mollified.
Edward adjusted his chain mail poncho. The three crusaders wore minimal sets of armour, but Lechasseur preferred freedom of movement and so stuck to a leather tunic. He considered that the dagger would be useful for self-defence if it came to that.
‘Come,’ Timothy said. ‘Let us depart.’ He turned to Lechasseur and grinned. ‘I look forward to seeing what bounty your wicked ways will bring us.’
7
The small group moved swiftly across the quarter of a mile or so that separated the encampment from the city walls. Although the terrain was rugged and tricky to navigate, Lechasseur’s eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness and they made good time. Timothy explained that the only entrance to the city they could use without being spotted was a small gap in the walls left over from some long-forgotten attack, but as it was on the North face, it was a lengthy trek from the camp.
Lechasseur still felt uneasy, especially with Edward, who had made it clear he had little time for people of Lechasseur’s colour.
‘So you’ve been on this crusade a long time, then?’ Lechasseur said, making conversation.
‘We have suffered for almost two years now.’ Peter’s voice was laced with bitterness. ‘This country is poisoned. It’s hot, there’s little water, even less food...’
‘It is the ultimate test of our righteousness,’ interjected Timothy. ‘The Lord dictated that each and every one of us leave our wives and families to help with the effort to liberate Jerusalem, but at each point along the way we have been faced with trials.’
‘You left families in Flanders?’ Lechasseur asked.
Edward nodded. ‘Each of us is the second son in our families. The heir was too important to send on this quest, but us... we have no place in society other than to serve our families. This adventure provides a purpose, a goal. Our brothers take care of our families, and when we return, we will have such glory that we shall be the ones who inherit all our ancestors’ wealth, not our brothers.’
‘Do you miss your families?’ Lechasseur asked.
Edward nodded. ‘We have been away far too long. It took us six months to take Edessa. Six months, and that’s hardly a strong fortress. There were more of
us then as well, before Dorylaeum.’
‘We lost many good men in that battle,’ Peter explained, his voice low and croaky. ‘And I fear we’ll face similar hardship before Antioch falls.’
Lechasseur was impressed with the preacher’s honesty. Most people he’d met here were defiantly ignoring the obvious, convinced that every trouble was a test sent from God and every success a reward, convinced that they would win out despite all evidence to the contrary. The crusader spirit was certainly indomitable, but just as much deluded. It was refreshing to hear home truths from the men on the ground.
‘Relax,’ he said, trying to reassure them. ‘Once we get food and supplies from the city, your people will be refreshed. The people of Antioch can’t hold out forever. They’ll soon be just as hungry as you are. Besides, with me here to barter for you, you can’t lose.’
Timothy thanked Lechasseur for his help, while Edward muttered something under his breath about being there to steal, not to barter.
As the party reached their entry point into the city, Lechasseur glanced around to see if anyone had seen them, but the night was quiet, and no Turkish guards seemed to be watching this section of the wall. Edward scuttled over to the base of the wall and pulled some branches and plant leaves away to reveal the secret gap that they were planning to use, a small alcove shrouded by shrubs and long forgotten to all but the crusaders who had stumbled upon it.
‘How many people know about this entrance?’ Lechasseur asked.
‘Only a few,’ replied Edward. ‘We are careful not to use it too often, and every few days we send a spy to check if the Turks have discovered it.’
Lechasseur looked at the tiny hole, overgrown with plant life, and was not at all surprised that such a small breach had been overlooked by the city’s inhabitants.
The four men squeezed through the gap and stood in silence to get their bearings. In the moonlight they could see rows of stone houses. Burning torches had been erected outside some of the houses, providing just enough illumination for the raiding party to see where they were going. In the distance was an imposing structure that Lechasseur assumed was a mosque, and the sound of a creaking mill could be heard from a different direction.
‘We must keep quiet,’ Timothy whispered as they began to trudge through the city streets. ‘Although few will be awake at this hour, many will be stirred with the same hunger pains and nightmares we endure.’
Their journey through the city was uneventful. At one point they heard laughing and shouting coming from one house, but luckily no-one noticed as the crusaders crept by. They soon reached their target: a large, rectangular building where the last sacks of food were being stored and rationed.
‘Spies tell us that the prince of the Turks has told them to be frugal with their food consumption,’ Edward explained. ‘They believe if they can survive longer than we can, we’ll end our siege.’ He sighed. ‘They should not judge the people of God by their own weak standards.’
Lechasseur was beginning to find fairly tiresome the endless assumption that God was endorsing whatever course of action the crusaders felt like taking. He noticed that Peter the preacher, the one man he expected to be constantly harping on about God, was staying refreshingly quiet on the matter.
The party crept closer to the store but made sure to stay out of sight and earshot of the row of guards standing outside the building – no doubt on night-long watch to ensure none of the city’s inhabitants took more than their fair share of the food. Lechasseur realised that getting in to the store was going to be difficult, and getting out with food supplies even harder. While he felt for the crusaders’ plight, and was fairly ravenous himself, not having eaten since the day before, he didn’t particularly want to steal food from the people of the city who, at the end of the day, had never asked to be besieged. Lechasseur had far more important concerns. He had arranged the raid in order to explore Antioch, and now he just wanted to find the old knight and figure out his connection to the forthcoming deaths. Then he and Emily could return home safely and eat all the food they could wish for.
‘Come on,’ said Edward, drawing his sword. ‘This could get messy.’
‘Wait,’ Lechasseur said, laying his hand on Edward’s. Killing in exchange for a few bags of grain might seem perfectly justified to the crusaders, but that didn’t mean he was going to stand by while they did so. The way this raid was going, it was going to result either in their execution or in a quick success – neither of which would help him in his search for the knight. He had to come up with another plan.
‘We’re past the city gates now,’ Lechasseur said. ‘No-one’s seen us, so we’ve time to develop a strategy.’
Timothy shook his head. ‘I have my strategy, you fool,’ he whispered. ‘Kill the Saracens! Present company excepted.’
‘We’ll never make it past them,’ Lechasseur said, ignoring Timothy. ‘I suggest we find a place to hide, get some rest, then try again in the morning. If anyone asks, you’re my assistants, my slaves if you like.’
Even in the darkness, Lechasseur could see that Edward’s eyes were wide. ‘You want us to pretend to be slaves to a Saracen? I would rather die.’
‘In that case,’ Lechasseur sighed, ‘I fear you will get your wish. But if we succeed, then there’s a good chance we can get as much food as we like – stealing their supplies not only from right under their noses but with their own consent!’
Timothy thought through Lechasseur’s argument. After a couple of moments, he nodded. ‘We will try your plan, but if it all goes wrong, you will be our slave forever!’
Timothy turned to Edward and the two smiled at each other, clearly thinking they’d reached a good compromise. Peter looked disturbed at the vassal’s words. Lechasseur could do little but ignore their ramblings. They had a big day tomorrow and he now needed to find them somewhere to sleep.
As the sun began to rise over the city, the hustle and bustle of daily life began. While there was little food or water to be had, from the noise of the crowds it was clear that few in the city believed the siege would last much longer. Lechasseur was certainly struck by how much better these people seemed to be weathering the hardship than those camped outside.
They had spent the night sheltered under a sheepskin beside what appeared to have once been a market stall. Luckily no-one had noticed their emergence but a couple of nosy camels who took more than a little persuading to leave Edward’s hair alone, much to the crusader’s consternation.
Lechasseur had persuaded Edward, Timothy and Peter to hide their armour behind some bushes where it hopefully would not be found. They had rubbed sand into their hair, but when Lechasseur had pointed out that most slaves looked better-groomed than the vassals did at the best of times, they had decided to just get on with the plan.
While the city had only one set of main gates, there were numerous smaller towers that would most likely be less well defended. Lechasseur had overheard rumours among the crusaders that the commander of one tower, the Tower of the Two Sisters, was not widely trusted and was believed to be sympathetic to the Christian cause. Perhaps this man could help them in their quest for a solution to the stalemate.
While they got a few odd looks as they walked through the streets, no-one challenged them, so it was not too difficult to reach the tower commander’s office.
Getting an audience with the man, who went by the name of Firuz, proved harder, but the sight of the foreigners was unusual enough to pique the interest of his minions. They soon found themselves directed into his office. It was a pokey little hut, inside which a small man, wrapped in robes larger and more salubrious than anything anyone else was wearing, was seated at a desk poring over some documents. Firuz looked up as they came in. He had a bald head and little piggy eyes. In his late thirties, the man seemed slightly bemused by the early morning visitors, but was nevertheless intrigued to hear what they had to say.
‘My liege,’ Lechasseur began, doing his best not to sound intimidated by the situation, ‘we are merchants from the Far East. We have noticed that all is not well in this city.’
Firuz gave a weary smile. ‘It has been better,’ he sighed. ‘Ever since the invaders from the West besieged our city, we’ve had to suffer while we wait for assistance from neighbouring towns.’
Lechasseur nodded. ‘We have seen your suffering, sir. We have also seen that the invaders suffer too.’
Firuz smiled. ‘They will soon give up. Our willpower is too strong.’
‘Forgive me if I speak bluntly,’ Lechasseur said, ‘but I fear stubbornness on both sides will kill you all. Please, send a contingent to negotiate a compromise. Surely you can work something out between the two of you, let the Franks who wish to settle here do so, convince their leaders that the problems they perceive to be besetting this town are just in their imagination?’
Firuz shook his head, his eyes showing he too had once thought as Lechasseur did. ‘We have learned to our great cost that the Franks are animals; they don’t think with logic as we do.’
‘It is you who are animals!’ barked Edward, outraged at Firuz’s words.
‘Quiet, slave!’ Lechasseur snapped.
Edward looked furious, then paused as he remembered his role. ‘I’m... I’m sorry. Master.’ The words did not come easily to the poor vassal.
‘Forgive my servant. He once served the Frankish princes who besiege you, but now he works for me alone. I’ve met many of them in my time, and while their exuberance and disregard for innocent life is well known, they do have a human side that can be tamed.’ Lechasseur lowered his voice. ‘If you send them some supplies as a gesture of goodwill, perhaps they’ll be willing to talk.’
Firuz snorted, deriding Lechasseur. ‘They are all butchers. They won’t talk.’
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