Baron's Crusade

by Griff Hosker

  I saw the other of Sir Philip’s men look at his dead friend and I said, “No, Pierre, he is dead. Save yourself.”

  He nodded. We quickly rushed behind the slabs and down the slope. It was as though we entered another world for we could not be seen and the sounds of battle seemed distant. To the Turks, it would appear as though the ground had swallowed us up and we had disappeared. As we headed towards the horses, I saw arrows still flying overhead although the rate was slowing. Cedric and his archers would continue to pin down the enemy. I took the time to don my spurs when I reached Thorn. Pierre took the reins of his friend’s horse and I led us down the trail which would, eventually, begin to rise. Sir Philip had another trail to the north of the ridge. Neither of us would know the other’s fate until we passed the crest and rejoined the main trail. Had my plan worked? We had saved the captives, of that I was sure, but I had also planned on saving Sir Philip’s men and mine. One of Sir Philip’s was already dead and Cedric and the archers’ fate was out of my hands. How had my father endured the worries of leadership for so long? As I picked my way along the trail, I reflected that when he had been a sword for hire, he had just had to worry about himself. Once he had gone to the Baltic his world had changed. Now my world would change. My father would never be able to lead as he had done before. His mind could still plan and he could still watch a battle unfold but it would be me who would lead the men of Stockton and that was a frightening thought.

  As I was picking my way up the slope Peter rode behind me and tugged at my back. I turned and saw that he had a Turkish arrow in his hand. “Your mail will need a link repairing, my lord!”

  “If they ever learn to make bodkin arrows then the time of crusaders in the Holy Land will be over!”

  Ahead of us, the sun was sinking into the west and I urged a weary Thorn towards the main trail. Cedric would not return with his archers until after dark which meant that the trail should be clear of our enemies. We reached the crest when there was still reasonable light and, in the distance, I saw that Jean and the others had reached the road. There was a mass of men and horses. As we turned around a rock I saw, as I neared the camp, Sir Philip and his men. They were approaching the camp having reached it quicker than we. There were two bodies draped over horses; he had lost men. The sun was a pink and orange haze in the west when we plodded into the camp. I saw the relief on the faces of Mark and Matthew. They took my horse and, as I dismounted, I nuzzled her muzzle, “You did well and when we reach Acre your travails will be over until we are home!”

  I saw that Sir Philip and his men were digging graves where the trail met the road and that Pierre had gone to join them. He would tell Sir Philip the fate of his man. I would not impose upon them for I knew the bond between a lord and his men. I could talk to Sir Philip later. The captives were lying and sitting in friendship and national groups. They had been prisoners and were suddenly rescued. I did not expect euphoria. They would be in shock. Until they were in a Christian stronghold, they would fear the enemy. Those crosses at the quarry had served their purpose well. I walked over to Jean. “The plan worked! Well done!”

  He shrugged, “You did the hard work, my lord, but I do not think these captives will be able to move until morning. They were already hungry and we took them away before they could eat their meal. We have cold fare for them but they need to rest here.”

  I nodded, “And the Turks will come.”

  “The fact that you and Sir Philip lost so few men tells me that you hurt the Turk. I counted more than a hundred and fifty of them, for I was at the crest of the hill and could count them. There looked to be more who were following. How many did you account for, Sir William?”

  “That is hard to say but I would expect it to be two score or more and their horses will be weary. It was hard enough for us to pick our way here and we had an idea of the terrain.”

  Jean handed me an ale skin and, as he spoke, I drank, “Whoever was left in command of the castle has lost prisoners. For that, he is likely to lose his head. His only chance for redemption is if he brings the captives' bodies back and the heads of the men who took them. If you managed to kill him then this may be over. If not then, come the dawn, there will be a line of horsemen on the skyline and this time there is nowhere for us to ambush them.”

  The ale was warm but I was parched and I drank deeply. I handed it back. “This is your land. What do you suggest?”

  He pointed north. “Ten miles from here is a half-deserted town, Ein Gedi. The Emperor Justinian destroyed it for it was the centre of Jewish dissension. The mountain you cannot see to the west now is Masada which held out against the Romans. There is a spring at Ein Gedi and there are walls. If we have walls then we can defend ourselves against horsemen better than here.”

  “And are there people there?”

  “We passed by it, lord, on the way here. There were a handful of shepherds and those who still try to extract the balsam resin.”

  I remembered then a ruined place which had been occupied by fearful people who had hidden when we had ridden through. We had not stopped for I had been anxious to get to the ridge. “It is a better plan than any I had. We wait for Cedric and discuss it with him. He may bring news that they have fled back to Kerak!”

  Jean laughed, “Aye, lord, and that ale skin is half full!”

  I nodded, “Then let us speak truly and say that the ale skin is almost empty. We leave before dawn. I would be in Ein Gedi when the sun rises. And now I will speak with the men. They need to know our plans.”

  Sir Philip and his sombre looking men were returning from their sad duty and I waved them over along with my men. “I intend to speak with the captives. Jean and I have a plan for this is not over.”

  Sir Philip nodded, “Pierre told me. What we did was right but I find it hard to reconcile with the loss of three brave men.”

  “I know what you mean.” We had reached the captives and I stood and spoke loudly, “I am Sir William of Elsdon and I was the one who chose to fetch you from captivity. You have all done well but this may not be over. Those who were your captors will want you back. You are weary and your horses are too. You cannot move yet and so I would have you sleep. We leave two hours before the sun rises and ride ten miles to some ruins where we will make it defensible. Some of you have weapons and we have spares. You will be able to defend yourselves.” I spoke in French and then English.

  One voice, English from the words which came from the dark, “I know not about these foreigners but I now have the chance to die with a sword in my hand. I have ‘Black Abdul’s beheader’ and I will use it until they hack it from my dead hands!”

  I heard murmurings from the others. Then a French voice called out, “Whatever happens, Sir William, we are all grateful that someone came for us. I thought that after the disaster that was Gaza, King Thibaut would have come for us.”

  “How many of you were at Gaza?” It was almost completely dark but there were enough hands raised for me to see them. “Did any of you know Geoffrey of Lyon?”

  The French voice which had just spoken said, “Aye, lord, for I am he!”

  The raid had not been in vain. I had done that which I had intended and kept my word to a dying man.

  Chapter 16

  I walked over to Geoffrey of Lyon and said, “A word, if you please.” Matthew followed me with a skin of water and a hunk of dried bread. While we spoke, he waited, discreetly.

  As the French squire came towards me, I saw that he was the image of his brother but Geoffrey was just eighteen or so summer’s old and his beard was not yet fully grown.

  “My lord?” There was worry in his voice.

  There was no easy way to say this and so I stated it as simply as I could, “I knew your brother, Raymond. He is dead.”

  I saw then that he had hoped his brother was alive for when he had last seen him it had been at Gaza and he had been with the lords waiting to be ransomed. “How did he die?”

  That was the question I was dreading. Y
ou do not lie to a dying man nor do you lie to one whose life you have just saved. “I ended his pain for him.”

  He almost recoiled, “You killed him? The last time I saw him he was with the Duke of Burgundy before he was taken away by the Turkish lord who made me a prisoner and Raymond had not a wound on him. What pain did he have?”

  “There is no easy way to tell you this, Geoffrey, but he was suborned by the Lord of Kerak. He was the Turk who took your brother away. He knew you were close and he was told that if he spied for him then your life would be spared and you would be returned to him.”

  “That is a lie! My brother would never do such a thing.” His hands balled into fists and I thought his eyes would burst from his head such was his anger.

  Matthew’s voice was quiet and sympathetic, “I was there, Geoffrey of Lyon, Sir William speaks the truth. He confessed all to Sir William and then asked him to end his pain, my lord only did what your brother asked. I swear.”

  Matthew’s voice oozed honesty and truth; it confused the French squire, “But my life was not safe! I was given no special treatment! I was whipped and starved!”

  “I did not say that the Emir of Kerak spoke the truth just what a brother was forced to do for his only kin. Your brother was not proud of what he did but he had little alternative.”

  Geoffrey had been staring at the ground as though an answer would appear in the desert soil. Suddenly he looked up, “Why did you come for me? You could have let me rot and none would know of my brother’s dishonour!”

  I said, sadly, “Because he asked me to and in my experience where family is concerned then loyalties to kings and causes disappears.”

  I saw realisation sink in, “You risked all these men to save me?”

  “You were the reason we came but we risked all to save every one of these men. I did not know if you were dead or alive.”

  “Yet you came to keep the promise that was made to a dying man. I am sorry, lord, when you said you had killed my brother, I wanted to end your life and I thought you a murderer. I apologise for I was wrong.”

  “There will be time for talk, I hope, when we reach Acre. We have more dangers to face and battles to fight before then.”

  “Then I beg you, lord, give me a sword that I may fight alongside you.”

  “Matthew, go to my saddle and fetch his brother’s sword and scabbard.” As Matthew left, I said, “You shall have your brother’s sword. It is meant to be.”

  Matthew had barely returned when we heard the sound of hooves on rocks. I drew my sword and Peter of York shouted, “Stand to!”

  I heard Cedric’s weary voice coming from the dark, “It is Cedric, lord!”

  I hurried in the direction of his voice. I saw that one man had no horse but all my archers lived. “I was worried.”

  “Leofric’s horse went lame, my lord.”

  “And the Turks?”

  “They are camped on the ridge. We have hurt them, lord, and we slew their three scouts sent to follow you but they have not given up and they have been reinforced by more men who have fresh horses.”

  “It is as Jean said. We have a plan, Cedric.” I explained it to him.

  He nodded when I had spoken, “That is a good plan, lord, but we will need to rest. My shoulders and arms burn still. I am no longer a young man and I fear that this will be my last battle.” He looked at the captives, “But it has been worth it. This piteous group of men is something worth fighting for.”

  I was desperate for sleep. It had been more than a day since I had slept but I could not, for now I had the lives of all these men in my hands. When we reached Jerusalem, I would sleep. Jean and Sir Philip kept me company as did Rafe. I made Peter sleep for I wanted him to take some men ahead of us and to secure the ruins.

  I roused Matthew and Mark first and told them to wake our men, then the captives and finally the archers. The animals had all been well watered and what little grazing there had been was now in their bellies. Cedric’s horses would suffer but that could not be helped. We would have forty miles to travel once we left the ruins if we left the ruins, and that might take us two days. Peter and three of Sir Philip’s men, along with Mark, rode ahead of us. Jean and Matthew led the captives and then the rest of us were the rearguard. We rode in silence. In Cedric and the archers’ case, it was weariness. We were travelling on a Roman Road and that helped us to move faster but the sound of hooves on cobbles carried for miles in the empty valley that was the Dead Sea. The Turks camped on the ridge would hear us and they would follow. Cedric had confirmed the numbers who would be chasing after us. While they had slept Jean and I had been around the camp to count the weapons which our captives had managed to take. Twelve of them were armed. The rest would have to guard the horses and be ready to pick up the weapons dropped by dead and wounded men! We could afford no passengers.

  Peter had secured the ruins although the Jews who lived there appeared grateful that we were Franks and not Turks. I spoke to the headman of the tiny community and gave him silver for cooking pots and food. He had little choice in the matter for the alternative was for us to take them without payment. The men who had no weapons were put to cooking for us. It was more to keep them occupied than anything. Our horses were picketed on the north side of the ruins. While Cedric and his archers found themselves the flat rooves where they would have protection and elevation, the rest of us took to making the southern ruins into our fort. Ruined buildings were robbed of their stone to block all the entrances and broken timber from animal pens was sharpened to make embedded stakes before our walls. Jean organised the captives into making improvised shields from discarded planks and fences. By the time the sun peered from the east we were almost ready.

  When Will Green Arrows shouted, “Horsemen from the south!” I knew that we would either have won by noon or the Turks would be despoiling our bodies.

  “Get your weapons.”

  One of the captives shouted, “What about the food, lord, it is not yet ready!”

  “When it is, bring it and we will eat while we slaughter Turks!”

  That brought a cheer. My words were bravado but when you are outnumbered that is often all that you have.

  “Stand to!” Peter’s commanding voice boomed out.

  We had the captives interspersed between our men at arms and squires. Geoffrey of Lyon was between Matthew and me. He had some planks jammed together to form a rough shield. It would not stop an arrow but it might slow one. I saw the horsemen now. They came, not in a column, but a rough long line. These were horse archers and could loose from the back of a galloping horse. They were not as accurate as Cedric and his men but I only had eight archers and more than a hundred and fifty were galloping towards us. My one consolation was that they would, eventually, have to dismount and use swords to fight us. Horses cannot climb walls! I viewed our lines. The Turks could envelop our flanks but they would have to dismount to get to us. There were ruined walls and buildings all around. We just had the southern line defended but Cedric and his archers could pick off men if they tried to flank us.

  Jean was three men down and, pointing, he said, “You can see the leader. He is the askari with the plumed helmet.” I saw the warrior. His face was open and he had a moustache that I could see. “He has the best horse and does not carry a bow. If we kill him then the rest might lose heart. If not…” he shrugged, “it will be a long and bloody day but I, for one, am happy to be here!”

  The captives all murmured, down the line, “And me.”

  I looked at Geoffrey of Lyon. I doubted that he had ever wielded the family sword. He smiled, “I am ready too, Sir William. One day, and soon, I would have ended my life on one of those crosses you saw. This is better for we have a chance, even though it is slim.”

  I shook my head, “Do not give up hope yet. We have God and right on our side. We do not fight for land we fight for each other!”

  Matthew said, “Fear not, Geoffrey of Lyon, Sir William comes from a long line of great warriors. One day
I shall be a knight and follow his banner with my own!”

  Mark shouted, “And I will too, brother, then the world should shake that we two are unleashed upon them!”

  Rafe War Axe shouted, “Well spoken! Your father, John, would be proud of you! When next I raise a beaker of ale with him I will tell him what fine sons he has raised.”

  Cedric’s voice drew my attention back to the Turks! “They are almost within range, Sir William! Brace!”

  I shouted, “Shields!”

  The captives without weapons took shelter behind walls and the rest of us pressed as close to the wall as we could whilst holding our shields or nailed planks above our heads. Cedric would need no orders and he would aim arrows at the amir if he gave him the chance. I saw that the Turks had halted two hundred paces from us. A line of fifty men had detached themselves. They would race at us and loose arrows both while they charged and when they fell back. I wondered at their range; would they wait until they were close to guarantee hits? They galloped easily and I saw that they controlled their horses with their knees. Of course, they would have to use a hand to turn them. I had faced archers before and trusted in my armour but there was always a part of you which wondered if this time one would defeat the skill of the weaponsmith and plunge through the gambeson and into your body. I lowered my visor and my world shrank to two slits. They waited until they were one hundred paces from us before they loosed. Cedric and his archers had the first strike for the elevation and their war bows gave them greater accuracy at almost twice that range. The horsemen were spread out and so large holes were not punched in their lines but eight arrows each found a mark. One horse pitched its rider forward as it was slain. Four riders fell from their mounts and the other three were wounded.

  I saw the amir, with the other two-thirds of his horsemen, wave his sword and a second line rode at us and then the forty-two Turkish arrows flew at us. Three hit my shield and I heard a crack as one hit Geoffrey of Lyon’s planks. I also heard cries as men without mail were hit. Even as they turned another five horsemen fell from their horses. Thirty Turkish arrows were sent at us as they turned.