Baron's Crusade

by Griff Hosker

  I nodded, “But you did well. Now sound the recall!” I did not think that any would have charged off after the enemy but it was good to get men into the right habits. The strident notes echoed off the walls of rock to the south and east of us. As our archers mounted and joined me, I shouted, “Collect any treasure you can find and mail. We need their horses. If any are lamed then butcher them and we shall eat well!”

  Matthew pointed to the dead, “And the enemy who lie dead?”

  “Can be buried by those we leave alive after we leave. It will be a good lesson for them. If they oppose us then this is what they can expect. Padraig, I leave you in command. Matthew, let us see how our knights fared.”

  We picked our way through twenty or so dead men. Some were archers and some askari; half had arrows in them. When we neared the village, I saw some dead men from the village. All had a weapon in their hand. My knights had dismounted and were drinking from a wineskin. I frowned.

  “What is this? Carousing?”

  “We won, lord!”

  “Aye, Sir Stephen, but we did not come here for the wine! We came for animals. Get off your backsides and collect animals. We drink when that is done and the village secured!”

  He and the other knights looked shamefaced, “Sorry, Sir William!”

  They still had much to learn!

  I sought out Jean and Cedric. “Well done, Captain Cedric. You stopped many from leaving?”

  He nodded, “Aye and they had a milk cow, goats and sheep with them. The four warriors who guarded the village fled to the tower but we slew them easily for they wasted arrows trying to hit Sir Stephen and his knights.”

  “Good. Did the knights have much to do?”

  He shook his head, “As soon as they were spied then the ones with weapons dropped them. A knight is like a supernatural being to these people for our horses are so much bigger than theirs.”

  I turned to Jean. “Is there a different way we can return to Acre tomorrow? One, perhaps, that might also pass some village or town?”

  “There are a couple but the road we would have to take is not as good as the one we used. In places, it is little more than a track and the villages are so small that they barely have a name.”

  “But they have animals and a well?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Cedric asked, “What is amiss, lord?”

  “A hundred mercenaries, Khwarzamian at that is the problem. They followed us along the ridge. Either they were waiting on the off chance that they might find us or they were warned. Some of them escaped. They will return to their Turkish overlord and I do not wish to make life easy for them by retracing our steps. I think that someone told them what we had planned. We go back a different way and avoid another trap.”

  Padraig smiled, “Your father taught you well, Sir William. It is what he would have done!”

  “We will use the same strategy tomorrow. If the villages and settlements are smaller then it should be easier. The other archers can drive the animals.”

  I felt weary. It was not the battle or the journey it was, quite simply, having to think of everything myself. I now understood the burden my father had borne for so many years.

  The huts were crudely made and my men thought they smelled strange. We lit good fires and slept outside. We had guards on the animals and the prisoners as well as sentries to watch for the enemy. None came and we left before dawn. We would be far slower returning to Acre as we had thirty horses not to mention thirty sheep, a cow and twenty goats. We had found treasure and Padraig had shared it evenly. That had been a lesson taught to me by my father. We also had wheat, olive oil, beans and chickens. We would eat well back in Acre but carrying it would slow us down.

  This time Padraig, Rafe, Peter and I almost damaged our necks by craning them around to see if we were followed. After five miles I decided that we had evaded them and we concentrated on taking as much as we could. The next two settlements did not even offer a fight. We took their animals for there were no wagons and our captured horses were laden with the weapons and food we had taken. We reached Acre after dark.

  One of the sentries smiled and shook his head, “You were the smallest conroi which left lord but you have returned with greater prizes and fewer losses.”

  “The others had trouble?”

  “One returned yesterday for they were ambushed south of Acre.”

  It was as I suspected, there was a spy in our camp and he had told them of our destinations. The two leaders and the three masters of the military orders were all in the north of the land. Who was there to take charge and come up with a better strategy? There was but one person, Sir Thomas, my father!

  Chapter 10

  When I told my father what I had learned he concurred with my findings. “You must call a council of war of the lords who lead the raids.”

  “It may be that none wish to raid if they have all had a disastrous day!”

  “None the less they must be informed. Your intelligence might well save lives and we have too few men to waste. You call them together and I will speak to them.”

  “You are well enough?”

  “The alternative is for me to sit and count the stones in the wall of my chamber. This keeps my mind active; I believe I am strong enough.” He smiled and I saw that he looked healthier already. There was colour in his cheeks and his eyes were brighter than they had been. If it was not for the heavily bandaged head then a stranger would struggle to know that he was wounded.

  I asked the Master of the Knights of St. John to convene the meeting for they were the most powerful order in Acre and my father always spoke well of them. The most important lord, outside of my father, who remained in the castle was Balian of Sidon. His family had been in the Holy Land for many years and I could see, from his face, that he objected to being summoned by a young English knight; I cared not. It was not just the knights who would lead the chevauchée who packed into the hall. There were others. Many knights had lost their feudal lord in the battle of Gaza and had not wished to go home while others had escaped from the disaster. Many came to the hall in an attempt to secure another place in a retinue; it would be a crowded hall. It took my father some time to reach the meeting and so I first faced the knights alone while he was escorted by Henry Samuel and Mark who were his ever-present shadows.

  Balian of Sidon had been drinking, “Why have we been summoned here by a whey-faced boy who has barely started shaving?”

  Many of the knights who had been rescued by my father and I objected and began shouting at him, fists, as well as voices, were raised. This could degenerate into a drunken brawl unless I did something. I raised my hand for silence, “Because, my lord, I have reason to believe that our enemies know all of our plans.” That brought silence. “When we began our chevauchée, two days since, it should have come as a complete surprise to our enemies yet I was attacked by a hundred mercenaries serving An-Nasir Dawud and they were waiting for me close to Bethlehem. Others did not even manage to raid and many men were lost.”

  Balian of Sidon bellowed, “What foolishness is this? Of course, there are spies in Acre but the Muslims do not have a leadership which can plan attacks on such a wide front. It is just a coincidence.”

  My father’s voice came from the doorway, “In my experience, Balian of Sidon, such accidents and coincidences always show the hand of man.”

  “I heard that you were wounded, Earl!” It was one thing to insult me but Balian of Sidon knew better than to disparage my father.

  “And I was but luckily that whey-faced boy you mocked had the wit, the courage and the ability to save me and most of not only our men but many who followed the Duke of Burgundy. Today while others brought back wounded men, Sir William of Elsdon brought back horses, goats, sheep, cows, chickens, wheat and weapons so I would suggest, my lords, that when my son speaks, you heed his words.”

  I saw him sway a little and I said, “Mark, Henry Samuel, take my father back to our chambers.” I was angry now and my word
s showed it. “Balian of Sidon, I care not if you and every other foolish knight dies except that it means I will be here longer than I need to be and I want to go home. Keep to the same plan you had and you will find the same result. I agree there are spies and to find them would be almost impossible. We cannot find them so be unpredictable. I will take my conroi raiding tomorrow but I will not even tell my men the direction until we are outside Acre’s walls. I will tell no one how long I will raid. Until the King and the Duke return, we must do all that we can to upset the plans of An-Nasir Dawud.” I stared at him, “And that is the only reason I convened this council, to save lives. Do what you will! I have a great warrior to tend to. Unlike you, he is worth my time and attention.”

  As I left Jean de Joinville, one of the knights of Bar we had rescued took my arm, “Sir William, ignore the blowhard. There are many of us who agree with you.”

  I nodded, “Then adopt my plan and lives will be saved.”

  “We will, Sir William. We will.”

  When I reached our chambers, my father was being tended to by Father Paul. He saw my face and waved an irritated hand at me, “I had not eaten that is all. It is my own fault.”

  “Would you have me confine you to this chamber?”

  “You are my son and I am the Earl of Stockton!”

  “Your doctor left me in charge of you and I will continue to determine how you live. Father Paul will advise me and I will consult with him on every action which you take. You were close to death and I realise how much we need you but we need a well man and not one who staggers after a few steps. Get well and then I will return your power!”

  He glared at me and then burst out laughing, “The cub is a lion grown! I will heed your words until I am well and then watch out, Young William!”

  Despite my words to the council I fully intended to consult with Padraig, Cedric and Jean, our guide. I trusted them. After my father had retired, I sought them out. “We will not leave in the morning as I said but the day after. Instead, Jean, I will ride with my squire and Padraig here and you. We will ride some nearby little-used trails and see if we are followed, for I would have you follow us at some distance and identify those who are curious about our destination. Can you do that?”

  He grinned, “Aye, lord.”

  Padraig persuaded me to take Peter and two archers too. “The thing is, lord, just a couple of us would not arouse interest but four or five would make a spy think we were scouting or perhaps even raiding somewhere small.”

  He was right and I heeded his advice.

  Balian of Sidon had not listened or perhaps he was making a statement. He and his conroi were already saddled and preparing for their chevauchée as my small group of horsemen saddled. Everyone knew where he was going and I feared that few would return alive. I knew, from words I had spoken the night before that some conroi had been so badly handled that they were not ready to ride again while there were others who would heed my advice and spend the day deciding upon a better course of action. The only two groups to leave would be my handful and the one hundred and ten men who rode with Balian of Sidon.

  The knight of Outremer jeeringly called out as we headed towards the stable, “You see I do not fear these heathens! I will fetch back more than the paltry offering you did!”

  Padraig growled, “He brought back less than we did yesterday! Everyone knows that!”

  “Peace, Padraig. He is full of sound and fury; it means nothing. His words are for his men. I would not ride with him this day for all know that he heads towards Nablus and that is a strongly defended place.” I turned to Jean as we mounted. “If no one leaves within an hour then ride after us and fetch us back. There is little point in putting our head above the parapet if our spy is too careful to fall into our trap.”

  “Aye, lord. I will watch.” Jean would remain in the stable where he would groom his horse. His presence would go unnoticed for there were many such servants and grooms in Acre. It was one of the reasons we adopted this strategy. The spy might not be someone important. It could be a groom. The fortress of Acre was so strong that it felt like a bastion against the Muslim world and men spoke openly as though it was a safe environment. It was not.

  Jean had told us of some meandering trails which led due east into the high ground which lay there. The Turkish held enclaves were more than fifteen miles from Acre and we would be safe enough from attack as the farms and small settlements were settled by ex-crusaders. My father had spoken of men he had served alongside who had not returned to England and he had wondered if their children lived here still. It would be unlikely for any of the warriors my father had known to be alive still as he had been a young man when he had gained his fame. When he had spoken of them, he had grown teary-eyed. Apart from those who now lived in Stockton my father was the last of his generation for the rest had died.

  The twisting and climbing nature of the ride made it hard to see if we were being followed. When we stopped for water, we studied the land. Alf Fletcher, one of our archers, rubbed the back of his neck. There was little sun and so the action was not initiated by its heat. He shook his head, “There is little evidence, lord, but I know that there is someone behind, following us and I do not like it!”

  I shaded my hand against the sky to try to find where the sun was hidden, “Aye, you may be right. It is almost noon and Jean would have joined us if there was no one behind. We are being followed.”

  Matthew suddenly lifted his head and said, “Then, Sir William, why not turn and ride back to Jean. The follower will not be expecting that and we can find him out!”

  “A good idea, Matthew, except that would not tell us who he was working with.”

  Padraig said, “Sir William, I have a sharp knife and an hour alone with him will tell us all that we need to know.”

  They were both right. If we had the spy in hand then he might tell us his confederates, if any, and as much as I might abhor torture, sometimes it was necessary and if any followed us then that was a sign of his guilt. I looked around the small huddle of houses. I spied a tiny trail which wound up from them through the rocks towards the ridge. I called over a young shepherd boy, “You there. Where does that trail lead?”

  “Why back down the track you follow, lord. Our sheep sometimes wander up into the rocks and using the trail helps us to gather them.”

  I flicked him a copper coin, “Thank you! Alf and Godfrey, take the trail and try to get behind him. The rest of us will ride hard down the trail.”

  My two archers were all happier to be doing something positive rather than being the bait and we quickly mounted. As soon as Alf and Godfrey had disappeared, I turned Hart and pricked him with my spurs and he leapt down the trail back towards where I hoped that Jean would be waiting. Our spy had to be close and our sudden appearance startled him. It was like a game bird when dogs approach. I saw a cloaked figure mount a horse some two hundred paces from us and gallop down the trail. Jean, of course, was watching and I saw him emerge from the rocks two hundred paces from the spy. Jean had a bow and, as he nocked an arrow, the spy veered left to begin to climb through the scrubby rock covered slope. It would be hard for us to follow but there would be no need for Alf and Godfrey were already above him. He had nowhere to go. When we reached the place he had begun his climb I lifted my hand to halt us.

  “We have him surrounded. Unless he is a better horseman than us, he cannot escape.”

  He was already a hundred and fifty paces up the slope but his horse was clearly struggling. The rider was leaning forward to try to help it but the slippery and crumbling stones beneath its hooves did not help and the inevitable happened, it slipped and threw the rider from its back. The horse did not fall far but the rider did. He was not wearing a helmet nor was he wearing mail. He struck a rock and rolled from it. Beneath the large rock he had struck were scrubby bushes and smaller rocks. He rolled and tumbled down the slope until he landed just ten paces from us on the track. We galloped up to him. He lay on his back. His baldric, sword
and dagger had been torn off on the descent and his cloak was torn and shredded. His face was bloody but his eyes were closed.

  I dismounted and handed my reins to Matthew as Jean rode up. I recognised the spy. He had been one of the Duke of Burgundy’s knights and had arrived at Acre five days after the battle having avoided the Egyptian patrols. I struggled to remember his name but I had spoken to him for he had thanked me for our intervention and had asked after my father. And he was the spy? This made little sense.

  Jean spoke as he dismounted, “He left within moments of you, my lord. He had been waiting in the shadows by the stable. He let Lord Balian leave and then headed out after you. He was very good. He kept far enough back so that had you turned you would not have seen him. Once he was on the trail he would know where it went.” He pointed to a wax tablet which had been attached to his belt but had broken free during his fall and it now lay on the ground. The wax had been smudged and was indecipherable. “Each time you turned from one track to another he made a mark on the tablet.”

  “And now he is dead.”

  Matthew shook his head, “No, lord, I see his chest moving.”

  I knelt down and spoke, I used French, “Can you hear me? Do you live?”

  The eyes opened and he croaked, “I do but I can feel nothing.”

  Padraig said, “Look at the angle of his feet. His back is broken. He is as good as dead.”

  I saw the terror in the young knight’s eyes. “Then I beg you to hear my confession, then kill me lord and send me to heaven.”

  I saw the cross around his neck. I took it and, using my dagger, cut the thong. I prised open his fingers, “Can you feel that?” He shook his head. I placed the cross in the knight’s hand. “The cross is in your hand.”

  He tried to smile and then said, “My horse, Star?”

  I looked up the slope. The horse, a courser, had risen to its feet and was standing forlornly lost halfway up the slope. “Matthew, fetch the knight’s horse and his sword.”