by Griff Hosker
My father walked around the table as did the Emir of Damascus. They clasped hands and then embraced. Thus, was the truce and treaty settled; not with pen and parchment but the handclasp of two warriors. That the treaty was eventually broken was nought to do with the two veterans who bade farewell to each other. That was the work of other men, on both sides, who had ulterior and selfish motives which had nothing to do with the Holy Land.
Chapter 12
While the King was delighted with our news there were many who were not. They were the ones who had hoped that they would have been the ones to bring the crusade to a happy conclusion while others had hoped that the war could continue. To our faces, they were all smiles but my father and I knew that they were false smiles. My father cared not what other lords thought. He had done his duty and served his king, the Pope and the King of Navarre. We prepared to take the castles and lands promised by the Emir. Of course, An-Nasir Dawud would not hand them over without some threat and the Egyptians were still his allies. We gathered our army. We had news that Richard of Cornwall and Simon de Montfort had finally left England. That disappointed my father. They would arrive in Acre too late to have any effect. By the time they reached us then we would have retaken the major towns.
One concession which the Emir of Damascus had made was that he turned over the Templar castle of Beaufort to Balian of Sidon. We were still gathering our armies and so the Emir took his forces and besieged the men of An-Nasir Dawud who refused to hand it over. It was a momentous event. For the first time, crusaders and Turks were acting in concert and it put heart into our whole army. The King divided the army into two. He led one half with the Duke of Brittany and my father’s contingent to Jerusalem, while the rest attacked Nablus, the stronghold of An-Nasir Dawud. It was high summer and the relatively short journey to Jerusalem took its toll. My father was not one who suffered particularly badly but some of the other lords who had spent the last months sitting in Acre found the heat, the roads and the constant attacks by the Turkish horse archers of An-Nasir Dawud something they were so ill prepared for, that I wondered at their ability to fight at all.
When we reached Jerusalem, envoys were sent to ask for the peaceful surrender of the city. We knew, of course, that it would be rejected. If An-Nasir Dawud was to have any credibility with the Egyptians then he had to show that he could attempt to fight the Christians.
The city walls were daunting and beyond them rose the keep like building known as the Tower of David. It was as high as any keep I had seen in England except, perhaps, the White Tower. One advantage we had was that it had been damaged when the Emir of Kerak had captured it and it was not as high as it had been and the buildings which had surrounded it had been destroyed. Even so, it would be hard to take for in places the city wall was less than forty paces from it. The most successful strategy would be to take the city first and cut off the tower. We closed off all traffic from the city and then used the knowledge of the Knights Templar to our advantage. They had spent longer in Jerusalem than any of the other orders and knew the city well. It was they who managed to find a side gate which was unguarded and they slipped in with the Teutonic Knights and the Knights of St. John. The gates were taken with barely a lost man while we captured some one hundred Turkish guards. We would have fewer men to fight once we attacked the tower. When the main gate to Jerusalem was open, we had the city but not the Tower of David and that was where the Turks and their Khwarzamian allies were gathered.
When the city had been taken the Emir of Kerak had cleared buildings around the sides of the tower and that was where we would begin our attack. The uneven nature of the ground precluded the use of a ram. This would need men to scale its walls using either ladders or a siege engine. We had brought wood from Acre and engineers began to build towers and ladders. The Tower of David was a huge edifice and the defenders had not only spears, darts and arrows, they also had Greek Fire. This weapon was seen as the devil’s own for it burned, even on water and was far more dangerous than burning oil or boiling water. They had, on each wall, a projectile thrower for the fire was hurled in a clay pot which would shatter on impact and spread its deadly flames.
In honour of success in Damascus, our contingent was not the first to attack. Nor was it the Bretons. Instead, Walter of Brienne, desperate to garner some glory led his men. Our men attacked before dawn for then it was cooler and their archers would struggle to target our men. Protected by shields his dismounted knights and men at arms marched steadfastly towards the walls carrying their ladders. The arrows and darts were ineffective for every one of those who attacked had a full-face helmet and wore mail. The King of Navarre became quite hopeful when they closed to within twenty paces of the walls and had lost only eight men. It was as they began to raise their ladders that more men died for the defenders hurled, first stones, and then unleashed Greek Fire. It was truly horrible and terrible to behold: the tail of fire that trailed behind it was as big as a great spear; and it made such a noise as it came, that it sounded like the thunder of heaven.
Henry Samuel said, “It looks like a dragon flying through the air.”
He was right and it was such a bright light it cast, that one could see all over the attack camp as though it was the noonday sun which shone. However, the effect was even more dramatic. One pot hit a line of knights and men at arms who were hurrying to the walls with ladders. It ignited when it struck and set alight not only the ladders but the surcoats and very metal of their mail. Their screams were almost unbearable to hear. Even as men who were nearby turned to flee, I watched the second thrower hurl another pot at a second group of knights. These had dropped their ladders and were running. They did not have shields to afford some protection to faces. The sound of the fire hitting them was like thunder and even two hundred paces from the impact we felt the wave of incredibly hot air which followed the impact. The sun was now up and their archers and ours had a better chance to use arrows.
“Cedric, can you hit those operating the machine?”
“We can try, lord, for that is no way for a man to die.” He turned to his archers, “Nock!” The attack had failed and the knights were fleeing. For that reason, I suppose, the defenders did not waste more of the valuable and deadly weapon.
Cedric shook his head, “Stand down lads!” He turned to me. “We could hit them, lord, but there is little point unless they are using the weapon. It looks like two men lift the pot on to the thrower. They appear to be wearing gloves of some kind. If we hit them before they loaded the fire it could set fire to the machine.”
“Is it possible?”
“It would be a difficult hit, lord, for the parapet offers protection but we can try.”
It was decided to launch another attack but after dark. Cedric, when he was told, shook his head, “Sorry, Sir William, we can do nothing for we would not be able to see well enough.”
I nodded, gloomily, for I knew he was right. The night attack was not the complete disaster which had been the attacks at dawn but twenty men at arms died needlessly. We held a council of war that night. Some, especially Walter de Brienne, were keen for a siege rather than an assault. King Thibaut shook his head. “We would look foolish. Much of this is about face. The Emir of Damascus has given us an opportunity here. The Turks captured this quickly with fewer men. We must take it or risk losing all the gains we were given thanks to the Duke of Brittany and the Earl of Stockton.”
Duke Peter said, “To be fair, Your Majesty, when the Muslims attacked, they did not have to contend with Greek Fire.”
“Find a way! Tomorrow we attack again and this time it will be the Bretons and the English who attack.”
I did not point out that the Navarrese had yet to make any kind of assault. There would be little point; they were the King’s own men. My father appeared to be unconcerned as the four of us sat in the house we had commandeered. It had had a good cellar of wine and we were enjoying the bounty while planning the attack.
My father nodded appreciatively as
he sipped the wine, “My own preference is for the wines of La Flèche but the wines from this region are acceptable.”
“Never mind the wine, Earl Thomas, how do we avoid losing all of our men tomorrow when we attack?”
“We attack in daylight and so we have the archers of Cedric with us. Your crossbows are of no use at all because they have a flat trajectory. Secondly, they will have a limited number of pots of this infernal weapon of the devil. They will not use it until they are certain they can kill a large number of men. I noticed that we had captured many cattle when we took the city.”
Raoul nodded, “Aye, my lord. They were to feed the garrison but the Templars captured the walls so quickly that they fell into our hands.”
“Good, then slaughter eight of them. Feed the meat to our men and have the hides soaked in water. You will advance beneath the wetted, fresh hides. It will slow down the effect of the fire. Also, we do not advance with ladders. They encumber the knights and they burn. We send them over with the squires and pages once our knights make the walls.”
The Duke asked, “Make the walls?”
“Have you not noticed that they have to load the projectile in a thrower? It is too risky to lift it and drop it. If we make the walls then the squires can carry the ladders without fear of fire. They will not waste Greek Fire on squires and pages. They wish to hit large numbers of mailed warriors. It is a risk to our squires and pages but an acceptable one for I am certain they will relish the opportunity to contribute to the assault.”
I looked at my father and the shock was clearly written all over my face, “Henry Samuel?”
He looked me in the eye and said, “He will not be hurt. That I believe with all my heart for if I thought the fire would even come close to him then I would not allow it to happen.”
I wondered at his belief. He was my nephew and I would have kept him safe. What did my father know that I did not?
We had much to do. The cattle were slaughtered and skinned. The animals were put on to cook so that the men chosen as the attackers would have a hearty meal before they began. The skins were soaked in water. The squires and pages, as my father had predicted, were honoured to have been chosen to take part in the assault and although they were given the chance to withdraw none did. I saw the fear on the face of my nephew and I admired him more than ever. He was petrified yet he would still risk all.
Before I retired, I went to Cedric and told him the full plan. “If the Earl thinks they will be safe then it will be so but we will do all that we can to slaughter those working the machines, lord. You worry about the squires but it is you who will be making the attack!”
I was concerned but my father’s confidence had transmitted itself to me and I had to believe that we would prevail. We had done so much already that it seemed a small step to climb the walls and defeat the garrison. Before I slept, I prayed as hard as I had ever prayed before. I had a wife I had barely seen and a son whose face I could barely remember. I had to get back to England!
We rose well before dawn and my knights and I met to prepare for the attack. Padraig led my men at arms over to the start line. He seemed the most philosophical of all of us but then he was the oldest and had been doing this for many years. Even my knights listened when he spoke. “Keep your shield before you and hold it high for that way it will cover most of your body and if a stone hits it hard then you might have a broken arm but it will not be a coxcomb! Keep moving and do not run in a straight line. You may still be hit but that will be fortune and if you are virtuous and God wishes you to live then you will. Do not stop until you reach the wall for there, with your shield above you and your helmet on your head, you will be fine.”
“And the climb?”
If Sir Stephen expected similar reassurance he was in for a disappointment. “Why, lord, that is the hardest task of all for you must climb while holding a shield and the ladder. They will use darts, arrows, spears and stones to dislodge you. If you do make the parapet then you will have to draw your sword and fight two or even three men alone! It matters not if they are mailed for they will have the protection of the stone walls. When you make the fighting platform you will, in all likelihood, have to fight three or four men.”
Sir Stephen shook his head, “You do not give us much hope, Sergeant!”
“Hope is for fools. Skill and God are my best allies and before I leave for the assault, I will say my prayers and beg God’s forgiveness.”
We had learned the lesson of an attack in the dark and we would attack at dawn when the first rays of the new day shone in the eyes of the attackers. Cedric and the archers had prepared well and each had twenty perfect arrows selected. Half were bodkins in case the men on the thrower wore mail. My father was there to bid us farewell. His son and grandson were risking all and I saw in his eyes the concern that was belied by his parting words, “Men of Stockton, today you go with the Bretons to take this mighty castle. I have no doubt that you will acquit yourselves with honour. If I thought I would be of any use in the battle then I would attack with you!”
Padraig shouted, “No, lord! You watch us and that will make us fight all the harder!” I had never heard Padraig shout at my father but he did then and showed me how highly he was regarded by my men who were facing death but could not bear the thought of losing the Earl. Would I ever have that sort of loyalty?
The Duke of Brittany would not be leading his men. That honour would go to Raoul de Soissons. We formed up our men with shields above our heads and then the squires draped the dripping hides over them. It was imperative that we all begin to march at the same time for it would split the targets. The wall we attacked had just one machine capable of hurling the Greek Fire projectiles at us. They would have to choose which men to kill, us or the Bretons. A horn sounded three times. I was at the fore between Sir Stephen and Padraig; it should have been another of my knights but Padraig would have none of it. I peered under my shield which was held high and I saw arrows flying towards us. They thudded into our shields but we had shields which were well made and the arrows did not penetrate for we had a thick animal hide above them. I watched men topple from the walls as Cedric and his archers, not to mention the Breton crossbows, killed the men on the walls. The projectile throwers hurled stones. They were aiming at us. I heard one hit the shields at the back and someone groaned.
“Is anyone hurt?”
“They cracked my arm, my lord, but I shall live.” I recognised the voice as one of Sir Stephen’s men. We were now closing with the charred bodies from the previous day’s attack. They had not been removed and the smell turned my stomach. When I saw smoke rising and knew that meant they were fetching the pitcher of Greek Fire, it also told me that we were now within range of the fire. If they loaded and sent it towards us then more than half of us, even with the wet hide, would die.
Even though we were a hundred paces from them I heard Cedric shout, “Loose!”
I glanced up and saw a shower of arrows strike the top of the parapet. Suddenly there was an unearthly scream and then a sound of thunder. I watched a column of flame leap into the sky. Our archers had slain the men working the machine and destroyed it by hitting the men loading the projectile thrower. Its contents would have spilt and the fire destroyed the Turks instead of its intended target, us. Behind us, I heard a cheer. It spurred us on and all that we had to endure were arrows, darts and spears. The wet hide stopped all of them from getting close to hurting us. The stones were the danger and our archers slew those who tried to drop them. We reached the wall and all pressed our backs into the stone. Still holding my shield above my head, I lifted the visor on my helmet and looked along the wall. Apart from Gurt, the man at arms with the injured arm, all appeared to be intact. Above us, I could hear the cries and screams as the enemy’s weapon was turned against them.
I took out my sword and waved it. That was the signal for our squires and pages to make the perilous journey. “Keep your shields in place! Once they have their fire under control then they
will turn their attention to us again!” I sheathed my sword.
Padraig nodded, “Aye, lord, but it will take them some time to manage to do so. The sooner our ladders are here the better.”
I watched as the three ladders were picked up to be carried by the six squires and two pages. While it was true that most of those above us were trying to quell the fire there were archers who were not near to the fire and they would be able to send arrows at the three targets which hurried across the ground towards us. My father must have organised them for they carried the ladders so that there was mutual protection. Half of the squires carried their shields on their right sides. When they reached the charred bodies, I saw hesitation for they did not want to cross the dead who had been burned.
I shouted, “Run or you die!”
Already there were arrows sticking from the shields and the ladders. I heard arrows ping off the well-made helmets. I had seen war arrows penetrate mail. It did not happen often but often enough for me to worry. It was the sheer number of arrows which made it possible. They were just thirty paces from us when disaster struck. Sir James’ squire, Brian, was hit in the knee by an arrow. It did not penetrate but the power of the arrow, sent from a composite, horn bow made his leg buckle and he fell to his other knee. As he did so Henry Samuel pitched forward and he must have struck his head on some object embedded in the ground. I knew not what it was but he did not move.
Padraig shouted, “Pick up the ladder and run!”
They obeyed my Captain’s commanding voice but Henry Samuel lay there. The archers on the walls saw their chance and arrows flew. I left the safety of the wall and with my shield held behind me, I ran to my nephew. Even as I was nearing him four arrows hit his back but, thankfully, none stuck although they would have bruised him. I knelt next to him. I saw that his head had hit a discarded helmet. It was the wide-brimmed type and the edge had caught him in the temple. He was stunned.