[AAR] M2TW: A Sicilian Life

[Viking Prince]

Author: fergusmck
Original thread: [SS AAR] A Sicilian Life [COMPLETED]

A Sicilian Life

Chapter 7: Letters from Home

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Our cumbersome baggage train slowly moved in land. Several days it took us, snaking across the maquis countryside, the bush country. The summer sun steadily rose in intensity, until we were no longer able to travel through the mid afternoon, but had to break and seek shelter in the shadows of our carts. The land, as we crept towards the northern mountains, steadily became more fertile, more verdant. We stopped by babbling streams, who, just descended from the lush peaks, had yet to converge and create the large rivers that watered the land. Our navy, under Admiral Soldini, had won numerous victories up and down the coast. Unburdened by numerous trade lanes which it did not have to protect, Soldini was able to concentrate his ships and galleys and take out the small fleets of Genoese and Venetian ships which patrolled no longer the coast. I was able to receive reinforcements from Sicily, more spear-men and some archers, and along with them, they brought letters from Palermo and Tunis.

My Dear Boemundo,
I have more great news for you. After you left, I discovered I had fallen pregnant again. This is a joyous occasion. Alessandro is growing up strong, and is excited about having a little brother to play with, and to teach. He is certain, as am I, that it is going to be another strong little boy. I cannot wait for you to come home and meet him, when he comes.
Spring has turned to summer here, and the winds has brought numerous sand storms from the interior. I have given up Tunis for now, preferring to live on our estate nearer the coast. The physician says that this will be better for both the unborn and the mother.
Alessandro listen gleefully to stories of his father. When in Tunis he stays near the barracks, and the old soldiers are enamoured with him, though they would never admit it. They tell him stories of his heroic father, first through the gate at Caligari and Tunis, and the small battles you had with the desert people. Afterwards, he goes out with the other young boys and plays soldier. He will grow up into a good fighting Sicilian, I am sure of it.
My father has made arrangements for squireship. He is to be sent to Syracuse, to join the court there, but not for a couple of years, as he is still too young to start his formal training.
Palomino has foaled, it is another colt, but it will be gelded soon. It is too be broken in next season, and it should make a good mount for Alessandro when he is older.
That is all for now my love, I hope that this letter reaches you in good health and safety. I look forward to your return, and pray that it comes soon.
Lady Matilda.

The letter, as doubtless any father could have told you, warmed my heart. It brought my out of the fit of depression I had felt ever since the battle with the Venetians. News from home, especially for a campaigning soldier, is always welcome, as it gives a brief escape from the toil and trouble of a fighting, and let's the recipient, for a brief time, imagine all is normal, and they are at home again. The other letter, from King Roger, was less welcome.

Lord Taormina,
I greet you in the full knowledge that you will not let your King or kingdom down in your current situation. I have heard rumours of a Venetian attack, from my spies around Italy, and warn you to be on your guard. Your main mission shall remain the seizure of Genoese territory, on the mainland, and the ultimate dismantling of their foreign holdings.
To this end, I have sent several fresh bands of spear-men and archers.
However, if open hostilities are declared on you by the Venetians, I give you my full and honest permission to act in any way you see fit, to achieve the aims of destroying our enemies ability to wage war. I have allocated further funds for the recruitment of mercenaries, should you need to hire extra troops.
I wish you well in all your battles, and know that you will serve me well, as you have done many times in the past.
Your lord and king,
King Roger

The letter contained nothing new, but it did allow me the justification to march on Milan, a major city held by the Venetians. I knew that if I could capture this settlement, I would damage, nearly beyond repair, their ability to attack either us Sicilians or the Genoese. Even though we were still at war with the Maritime Republic, as it was known, I had sent some merchants to talk with the local Genoese authorities about a possible peace. With reports coming from these agents suggesting that peace was near, I continued my march north and east, away from Genoese holdings, towards the ancient city of Milan, the Venetian stronghold.

Chapter 8: The Battle of the Lombard Plains

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We snaked through the low fertile hills of Lombardy, along the road from the coast to Milan. It was getting late in the campaigning season, we had entered September and the weather was beginning to turn. No longer did we march under the beating hot sun, but often we were watched by high storm clouds.

We came within sight of Milan around a dozen miles from the rich city, when my scouts came in reporting that a regiment of spear-men were marching from behind us. They had been shadowing us for a while, and it seems that they wanted to stall us until the main garrison from Milan could march out and engage us. Evidently they did not want to fight in the streets, where important businesses could be damaged. Obviously it was a strategy endorsed by the powerful merchants of the city. I knew we had an inferior number of men than the Milanese, who were ruled by the Venetians. I had hoped that we could reach the city, and siege it, but I could not let a force, however small, remain behind us, so I ordered my army to form up and engage.

It was a dark day. There was going to be a storm that night. Though I did not know it then, it was to be a god send. My forces, at this stage, consisted of roughly of half mercenaries and half Sicilians. We had several bands of crossbow-men and archers, with some of mace-men, and the rest of spear-men, excepting my unit of experienced knights. The missile troops quickly peppered the enemy, and then my spear-men engaged. I then brought my knights around to their rear and charged. They broke quickly after that.

Unfortunatley, the time it took for us to dispatch the enemy who had come up behind us, the Milan garrison had taken to the field. There was no time to retreat from the vastly superior force. I only had 800 men, while Marcantonio, the duke of Milan had taken his entire army of 1,400 to the field. I reorganised my force, in the short time available, into a crescent shape. I hoped to lure the vast bulk of the Venetian force into the center, and then close it up, eliminating a lot of their men from the fighting, and nullifying their numeric superior. They sent their crossbow-men out first, and softened up my men. I let my archers return fire, but I did not immeadiatly charge with my knights. This was perhaps the biggest mistake I made that day. They had more archers than me, so, after the initial trade of arrows, they were, by far, the better off. I finally charged, thinking that any chance of the Venetians infantry attacking me, alone, was better than letting the archers continue. The charge broke the archers, but it did bring the bulk of the Venetian infantry into the fray. I retreated behind my line of infantry before the Venetians could catch my fast calvary.

My plan, as I have said, was that the Venetians would charge the centre of my line, allowing the flanks to close and surround them. They did not take the bait, and this was the end of the battle, even though my men were to hold their ground and like lions for an hour or so hence.

I tried to rescue the day by charging the exposed flanks of the Venetians, but they held firm. Out of my many knights who had started the day, many had died through the repeated charges. Me myself had picked up several flesh wounds, but was OK to continue. But soon the line started to break and crumble. Even though I tried to rally my men, my personal presence in the middle of the fighting certainly lifted their spirits, this was not enough. The left flank broke first, and then the Venetians rolled up the. The day was over, and it was lost.

I was in the midst of the fighting when I recognised that it was so. I turned and steered my horse trying for a way out. My heart was pumping, full of the thrill of battle, and that is the only reason I can see that I escaped what surely was to be an inglorious fate, as a bruised and battered corpse on the bloody field.

As it was, I was skewered in the leg by an opportunist spear-man. I managed to flee though, and was helped away by the only surviving member of my retinue, Lucomo.

The storm hid our escape. The heavens opened, and it felt like the second flood had come. Strewn across the country side, I managed to gather some of my men together, and organise the survivors into the semblance of a fighting force. Night fell, or at least it became darker. We camped out that night, our baggage train had fled before the battle was done. I did not mind, if got back to the coast it could send for our fleet. The night in the open air was not good for my wound, which woke me during the night. There was a burning sensation in my thigh, the spear had pierced deep and the bone was visible. It was just above my knee, on my right leg. Without Lucomo I could have never managed to get back to the coast, where, as I thought, the ships were waiting, ready to ferry us back to Sicily. The hundred men, out of the eight hundred, were tired, hungry and bloody. The mercenaries left us, and took their pay, and slipped back among their native people in the countryside. They would rest and recoup over the winter, reconstitute themselves as a fighting force.

I hardly remember the sail back to Sicily. I was delirious with fever, the wound having become infected. Drifting in and out of consciousness I was stretchered ashore. We had apparently made landfall in Palermo, though it was to be a few days, and constant attention from the court physician before I was to know that. I was bed ridden for a month. I can safely say that that was what saved from the rage of Roger. He had risked nearly half his forces, including garrison troops, on this gamble, to take land in Northern Italy. It was his expressed desire to see the peninsula united again. Seven hundred men had perished, and I was nearly among them. It was this perceived commitment that saved me, and allowed me to keep the titles I had earned previously. After a month in Palermo I was fit enough to walk around. I spent a lot of time in the barracks and stables, though I could not ride yet. I wanted nothing more then to sail back to my new home, Tunis, where my family, including one new born, and hopefully healthy baby was. The seas however were not co-operating, and I had to be content to it out the winter in Palermo, where I poured over military treaties and books, imagining what I could have done differently in Lombardy.

Come spring, I was fully fit, as fit as I was ever after my wound anyway. I stood on the dock, watching my possessions being loaded up on the boat. I had one summer back in Tunis, before I was required back in Palermo to lead another expedition against the Northern Italians. But my mind was not on future military conflicts, it was only concerned with seeing my growing family again. I looked out over the sea, and was ready to see it now for what it was, not a monster seeking to swallow me up, but it was something, a potential route that could lead to anything.

Chapter 9: Recuperation and Revenge

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I was at my home in Tunis, enjoying the company of my growing family, when a letter reached me from the king. I had only been back a few months, and only barely able to ride again, so I was sure that it could not be another summons to war. Simone, Roger's son and heir, was more than likely going to lead the next army, after my defeat at the hands of the Venetians, although I was fully expecting, and expected, to take part in any upcoming campaign as well. The news contained within the dispatch was more heart warming that a call to arms. It seems that the Pope, though still loyal to Roger, did not like the war that was going on between the Genoese and ourselves. The Papacy was known to be hostile to Venetian expansion, especially towards Rome and the Vatican, so a war between the two other Italian states would only benefit Venetian aims. Recognising this, he sent a letter to each of the leaders of the Genoese, their Doge, and our King. He urged them to stop this bloodshed, 'of Catholic brothers', and so negotiations were opened, with the Pope as mediator. They were quickly resolved, as both states recognised the growing power of Venice, now not just content with a trading empire, but desiring a territorial one as well. It came as no surprise then that Sicily and Genoa had declared peace. It was a welcome relief, though I thought then that we would surely come into conflict once again. The training of troops continued, as did the forging of weapons, but now their goal was not as murky as it had been. All things pointed to an epic war with the Venetians.

Things continued so for a while. It was roughly four months after that last letter from Palermo, confirming peace with the Genoese, when the sentries spotted a black sailed galley approaching the nearby port of Tunis. I knew it was bad news, something about black sails screams bad news, before the sack clothed, ash strewn haired men disembarked. The news they delivered was grave indeed. King Roger, after a long and successful reign, had died. The bells of churches across Sicily were muffled, and prayers were offered by all the monasteries and abbeys of Roger's kingdom. Prince Simone, now King Simone, was still in Neapolis, at least he had been when the messengers, some minor nobles, had left the port at Palermo. He had been coronated, and had named his heir. Simone only had daughters, and he had no siblings of suitable sex or age, so, in a surprising move, had named me heir. I was honoured, Simone still remembered our friendship, we had not seen each other in several years. I was not expecting to inherit the throne, a suitable member of the royal family would have come of age by then, but this move did show that Simone was a capable ruler. If he died before one of his family was able to become king, he had effectively stopped any in fighting or chance of civil war by naming an heir, or regent. The years in Neapolis must have done him some good.

I took a boat to Neapolis, to meet with Simone. I felt that a king and his heir should at least meet once in their reign. I felt that together we could also formulate a strategy, and make the kingdom of Sicily a great and feared nation, among the many states of Europe. So, it was on a warm, but blustery, day in mid-August when I stepped on board the newly named galley Roger and sailed up over the wine coloured sea, and over the horizon to the metropolitan city of Neapolis.

I arrived a week later, after a horrible journey. I could hardly sleep with the incessant rocking and rolling of the waves on the ship's hull. When I did get to sleep, I was often woken moments later by the creaking of the hull, which I felt must spell doom for my voyage, and that the Roger would surely sink. It was because of this journey that I did not arrive in Neapolis in the best of health. I must have looked like death, pale and sweaty, and I am sure Simone at first feared for my health. I was weak as well, I could hardly keep anything but the plainest meals down. But an good evenings meal on the solid earth would do me the world of good. I excused myself from the king's presence, he had come down to greet me on the docks, having seen my banner far out at sea, and had accompanied me to his residence. I was very tired, and sick, so I did not get a good look at him this time, and I ask that you excuse the exclusion of a description of him. I, nevertheless, retired that night, and only had a small meal in my quarters to regain some strength.

The next day, I was able to talk more with Simone. He was older now, approaching his mid-forties, yet he had kept his blond hair. He stood tall, taller than I, but was still slim and atheltic. His blue eyes did not have that mischevious sparkle anymore, but had settled into a knowing and caring look. He took me around his private gardens, and we caught up on all that had happened since we had last met. We had an enjoyable afternoon, talking and walking around the pleasant gardens. He had laid on a feast for that night, as was expected when such a guest as I, he had said, visited. I blushed, it was not often that I had been praised in such high words, and by such an old friend as well.

The feast that night was attened by all minor and major Sicilian nobles from the Italian mainland. When the wine flowed, and it flowed liberally, we sang songs and tried to one up each other with war and battle stories. There were knights there who I had not seen since my youth, as one of Simone's company. The high ceilings of that wooden hall rang all night with our laughing and shouting. Though I did not often over indulge, that night I did, and I don't remember the half of it. The next morning, afternoon even, I woke up with a ringing headache. That night the discussion was more serious. Simone, me and the few select nobles that made up the king's inner court discussed what his foreign policy was to be. It was decided that night that we should continue our war against the Venetians, and that we should look to expand our holdings in North Africa. I was again tasked with leading the expedition against the Venetians. This time, however, we were going to march up the spine of Italy and take the Venetian holdings before eventually sieging Milan and Venice with a secure supply route back to our holdings. The major town on the Eastern side of the Appenines was Ancona, and it was to be the goal of that second Venetian expedition.

I gathered troops, from Bari, Palermo, Neapolis and Tunis. It took a year for all the troops to assemble, a time I spent training some more in Neapolis and recruiting some local mercenaries. When all was ready, I marched out of Neapolis with nearly 1,300 men at my back. It was the largest army gathered by the Sicilians. The march north was uneventful. There were no bandits or small patrols of Venetians, and we reached the hinterland of Ancona without being troubled. That was when my scouts reported in about the several small armies of Venetians, led by minor captains, that were guarding the area outside of Ancona. I decided that it would be better to drive away these small bands of troops, so that they would not pose a threat when we settled in to siege Ancona. We lined up for battle, but messengers from these small armies must have been sent to Ancona, for Barbus Selvo, brother of Alessandro, marched out with his large garrison to help these men. All in all the forces gathered by the Venetians that day number 1,050 or so. Barbus, however, had a considerable more amount of calvary, especially heavy knights, so that made up for his small disadvantage in numbers.

The Battle of Ancona

The battle was fought on a undulating plain outside the settlement of Ancona. There were no forests or anywhere to spring an ambush from, so I lined up my men in the conventional manner, with archers out in front to pepper the approaching enemy, and then retreating behind the spear-men, where they can continuing menacing the enemy from that relative protection.

The enemy approached under the fire from the Sicilian archers, until they reached the lines of my spear-men. The Venetian infantry engaged along the full line, while their calvary tried to flank, from my right.

I sent extra spear-men to see them off, and supported them with my mailed knights. I did not commit my bodyguard, as I was waiting for the right time. The lines of infantry shifted along the whole front, but overall, my Sicilian infantry were having the better of it.

With the routing of the Venetian calvary, I brought my knights around behind the lines of the Venetians, and charged them in the rear.

This broke their ranks, and the battle was effectively over. The rest of the day was spent mopping up the Venetians, taking them prisonner or dispatching those that did not see sense.

When all was added up, we had put 950 Venetians out of the fighting, either captured or killed, while I lost 350 men. It was a good victory, and one I felt which absolved me from my earlier defeat against the Venetians.

With this victory, Venetian resistance in the area was destroyed. A small remnant of the Venetians, including Barbus Selvo, their commander, managed to make it back to Ancona, but the rest of the Venetians routed, more than likely they returned home to their farms. I marhced my tired army to the gates of Ancona, and surrounded the city. There were only a very few defenders, and I was resolved to capture the key city as soon as possible. However, I wanted to give my men a rest, the spear-men had fought long and hard against the Venetian line, and deserved this respite.

Chapter 10: The Storm Breaks

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After the battle of Ancona, there was little resistance in capturing the city itself. Barbus Selvo was killed in the battle, but his body was sent back to the Venetians to be properly buried. The Anconans, who had been conquered many times over the course of history, again submitted to a new ruler. As conqueror of the city I was again invested as the Duke of Ancona. I was ready to continue up the coast with my army, to press my advantage on Venice, when horrible news came from Palermo. An Islamic Imam, from the North of Africa, a Moor I think, had declared a Jihad on our city of Palermo. I was recalled as quickly as possible, and ordered to bring the bulk of my forces. The defence of the castle, our capital, was of the upmost importance. Reports came trickling in over the course of my march from Ancona to Neapolis of the different factions which had taken up arms against Sicily.

I also sent diplomats out to the Venetians, asking for peace. They accepted, all too happy, as it seems the Genoese were making great gains at their expense, taking Milan according to the Sicilian merchants who were active in that area. It seems that the Moors and the distant Kwarezmian Empire had answered the call of this imbecilic Imam and were apparently marching on Palermo. We decided to strike first, however, at the Moors. My son, Alessandro 'Corrado' de Taormina, who had just turned 14 to capture the badly defended city of Beleb el Anab. When he approached the city with his small force, consisting of a few archers, some spear-men and a regiment of knights, the gates swung open. The Moors had apparently abandoned the city, and the town council had decided to submit to Sicilian rule rather than face the prospect of siege without any guarantee that the Moorish Sultan, or whatever their leader is called, would send help. I, as ruler of all African counties, was proud to bestow the title of Duke onto my son. As well as this, a force was sent by sea to capture the coastal city of Al-Mahdiya, which though sparsely defended put up more of a resistance than Beleb el Anab. It, however, was captured with the help of some Numidian calvary, Negroes from the interior who ride horses and throw javelins, and very skilled they are at it too. The commander, a captain of small repute so you forgive me if I forget his name, was so impressed by the skill of these mercenaries, he sent a band of them to me at Palermo. I was patrolling the hinterland of Palermo, scouring the coast, hoping to see off any potential landing before it happened, when news was sent by Ferrant d'Altaville, the brother of Simone, son of Roger, who was governor of Palermo, that the Moors had landed and were approaching the city.

The Battle of Palermo

I at once took my force around the mountains, we were patrolling the southern shore, and there was a small mountain range in between the city and my position. Due to this, we managed to come up behind the Moors, led by Najih ibn Ulaym I later learnt, and the Crown Prince Qarim.

Ferrante sallied out of the city with his garrison, and we approached from both sides, in front and behind of, the Moors. Together our forces numbered around 850 men, while the Moors had brought 720 for their invasion force.

They retreated into a near by forest, and this allowed my force and Farrante's to meet up. I sent up my archers, ironically the best from Sicily, who were Muslim, and had no qualms about fighting against their own on this day, for Sicily was as much their homeland as it was mine, our only difference being our differing beliefs, and their superior skill with a bow. The skies were black, and this dark omen was blackened still by the arrows of our skilled archers.

The Numidians also performed well, and the whole Moorish force was bloodied before I sent my infantry in. I line my spear-men up for a frontal assault on the forest, a long line, hoping to catch all the Moors, and surround them. The Moors, however, decided not to fight in the forest, but instead came out and engaged my spear-men on the lip of the forest. Their force consisted mainly of desert tribesman, who were not well armoured or armed, and unsuited to anything but the mot basic of warfare, let alone the Western type they were subjected to that day.

The Moorish heavy calvary of the two generals, including the Crown Prince let us not forget, however proved a considerably bigger obstacle to our victory. At both flanks there was fierce fighting between the calvary corps, I was fighting at the right with Najih ibn Ulaym, while Ferrante was facing off against Qarim. I had the better of it at my end, when some spear-men broke off from engaging the main line and came to my aid. Najih also gained some infantry some support when a unit of his militia joined him. However, my troops were superior to him, and he retreated to the rear of his army, while I dealt with the militia. The infantry were doing a fine job, and were beating back the desert tribesmen. Ferrante was not having an easy day of it, the Crown Prince's bodyguard being considerable. I, once the militia routed, came over to help, but too late.

My brother-in-law had fallen to the sword of Qarim. He took several of his guard with him, though, and had exhausted the rest. I charged into their still ranks, and one of my knight's lances unhorsed and killed the Crown Prince. When the army saw that their leader was dead, the battle was over. Whatever resistance they had left, evaporated and they fled as quickly as their feet could carry them. I could not let any escape into the countryside, and menace the population of my homeland, and so all were chased down and slaughtered.

Najih was not captured that day, but was captured some time afterward by some local, very brave, farmers. He was turned in to the local constable, and was swiftly executed. This was the first time since Roger's conquest that Sicily had been invaded, but the matter was quickly dealt with.

The price was dear, with the death of Ferrante, but he would have, and did, gladly died in the protection of his homeland, and his sacrifice did not go uncelebrated.

After this victory, I returned to Palermo to give my troops a rest. Some had been with me since Caligari and Tunis, and seeing their greying hair brought to me the realisation that I too was getting older. I was already forty, but had gained the fame which I had sought as a small lad. Sicily had expanded since my first battle at Bari. Ancona had been conquered from the Venetians, and Cagliari and Tunis I had personally captured. Two provinces after Tunis were also added to our holdings in Africa. Sicily was becoming a large and powerful kingdom, but Simone still wanted further expansion, and an excuse for another push northward was soon to present itself.

I received a letter from my son in Beleb el Anab. He had in turn received a letter from the constable in charge of Cagliari. The Genoese had landed, and had opened hositilites again with the Sicilian Kingdom. The constable did not have enough troops to hold off the Genoese by himself, and had asked for assistance from Corrado. He left a skeleton garrison in Beleb, just enough to allow time for reinforcements to reach it if the Moors tried to attack and claim the city back for themselves. He defeated the forces of the Genoese easily enough, but this was not what was important, for Simone anyway. It gave him the justification, and blessing of the Pope, to invade the North again. There was a new generation of generals, sons of the knights and leaders of my generation, and many of them were looking for glory on the battlefield. I did not expect to lead the expedition, or play a leading role in it. There was, however, another important mission I was sent on.

Chapter 11: Pilgrimage on the Sea

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So it was that we beat back the Moslem invaders. After this attack Simone, with his War Council, devised a two pronged assault. The first, and main prong, was to strike North against the Genoans. This prong was to strike forth from Ancona, and attack Milan and Genoa herself. Ajaccio was also to be seized, being of importance to the trade routes surrounding the coast of Northern Italy. I was not to be involved in this attack. The second prong was far more ambitious but was not as important as the first, main one. The Pope had called a crusade to the Holy Land in response to the Jihad announced against Palermo. Pressure was put on him by the Sicilian cardinals to do this, hoping to deflect Fatimid attention from Sicily to Judea. I was given command of 7,000 or so soldiers, both veteran and green, and money to hire more. In total, I managed to arrange a force of around 10,000 around me, consisting of spear-men, knights, archers and pilgrims. The pilgrims were not be depended on in battle, but I hoped their religious fervour would serve in the stead of any training or equipment, and thought that they could act as a kind of shock troop. I hoped that their tight massed charge would act as the final impetuous to make the Moslems flee.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

I set off from the Palermo docks for the umpteenth time. I had pillaged the garrison, leaving barely enough men to train new troops and to act as a kind of police force. Palermo had been scared into obedience by the ranks of Moslems, and I was assured that if any trouble were to flare up, Syracuse was not too far away with it's garrison, and the King was only a weeks journey by sea from the walled city. Yet, despite their still ingering fear of a Moslem invasion, hundreds turned out to throng the quays and wave their brotehrs, husbands, fathers good bye. Their was a joyous feeling in the air, and it was a welcome relief for most people, I suspect, from the dour mood that had infected the populace prior to this. We were going on the offensive now, punishing the Fatimids for their transgressions. This was God's work, though not many in Palermo were devoted servants of God, judging by their behaviour on most nights. Flags and banners waved from the richer houses, while the poor people throwed flowers and garlands in front of the knights, in full parade armour, as the army snaked through the streets to the many ships assembled to carry the soldiers of Christ.

The Normans had never been much of a seafaring nation, but the Eastern Roman Emperor was not thought to be co-operative with the Crusades aims, hoping not to antagonise the powerful Fatimids, and he, perhaps rightly, stayed firmly on the fence, not allowing the Catholic soldiers to march through his land. The Normans were not a desert tribe, either, and I did not want to march through the North African desert only to be greeted by the many walled and gated cities in between us and Jerusalem. The sea was the only option left. It was quick, but distasteful. It is a journey that I do not wish to remember, like most sea journeys. There was not the anticipation of returning home to lighten my heart, and I spent most of the time in my cramped room. We halted on several islands to take on provisions, Malta, Crete, Rhodes and Cyprus, and these stops were the only time I left that room.

It took us four months to complete the long journey. I came on deck for the final hours, witnessing the growing Holy Land. You would expect something dramatic, a cliff rising sharply out of the dark sea perhaps, but we made land on a gentle beach, whose slope was barely enough to lift the land out of the sea. Feet back firmly on Terra firma, I felt suddenly invigorated. We made our way to a small copse, and made camp beside the brook that watered it. This was the land that Jesus walked, and it told on the many men of my army. All were much more pious than they had been ever in Sicily. Priests were respected, and no ribald jokes were told about them. Prayers were faithfully said, both aloud and quietly. I walked past many tents, seeing their occupants mumble quietly under their breath. A few dozen ships unloading thousands of men would not go unnoticed, so I was determined to keep moving, so as not to be caught by the obviously superiors number of Fatamids. We were a small army in an enemy country. Whats more, that enemy was the most powerful country in the world. I knew I would have to strike fast and hard, to take up a favourable position before troops could be sent from Egypt to defend Judea and Jerusalem.

The army kept moving, creeping and winding it's way in land. I sent scouts out to survey the land, and to search for any sign of a Fatimid army. We were crossing a river, at the only bridge for miles, when I received a report about such an army. Split into three brigades, the Fatimid army numbered nearly 23,000 men, but with no one contingent numbering more than 8,000 men. It was camped on a plain to the north of Jerusalem. There was no commanding general present among these brigades, no royal tent was seen, so I thought that this was to be my best bet to defeat the enemy and so win the lightly defended city. The odds were bad, over 2 to 1, but they were the best I could have expected. With my column of 10,000 stretched behind me, I led the march under the Middle Eastern sun, and over the sonorous river to that fateful plan. On the way I prayed for divine inspiration, hoping God would give me some idea on how to defeat this vast host of the enemy. It is amazing what a Crusade and pilgrimage can do for your faith.

Chapter 12: The Battle of the Judean Crossroads

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We met at the place where three roads meet. The forked road leads to three major cities; Jerusalem, Damascus and Acre. This site must have been sacred to the ancients, since there was a ruin of an old pagan temple. If those gods did exist, I had no doubt that they would have been accepting of the fierce battle my men fought that day to secure their holy place. The battle was to be fought on a plain, with tall grass, and only a few trees. It's verdant scenery was soon, however, to be tinged with blood.

I have given the size of the Sicilian and Fatimid armies, with mine being out numbered roughly 2 to 1. It was lucky that the three brigades of the Fatimids had not assembled together, or else I would have surely been doomed. As it was, I had barely a chance. I knew that the normal Sicilian tactics of absorbing the enemies attack with our powerful defensive spear men, and then positioning our calvary to gain them enough space to unleash a devastating charge, would not work, as the enemy's numbers would simply overwhelm my line. It was to be a tough battle, and one where all would be wagered on a daring attack.

I lined my army up in the traditional manner, hoping to lull the Fatimids into thinking we would adopt our familiar defensive tactics. The first Fatimid force, under a Captain Bashir, approached confidently, lined up in the manner I had expected. They sent their famed javelin men out in front on their main spear line, and my calvary, positioned on my wings, quickly pounced and kill many of the Kurds. When the skirmishers had broken, and with the calvary acting as a screen, my spear men advanced, and charged the Fatimid line. I was still in the back lines, organising the archers to march up behind the spear men. I kept the pilgrims back, seeing that they would be of no use while the Fatimid militias and trained soldiers were still fresh. The Fatimid line was longer, but thinner I thought, than my own spear line.

They quickly enveloped the flanks of the spear men. Ordinarily this would have been a disastrous event, but I had anticipated it, planned for it in fact. The pilgrims were now committed, with their clubs and religious fervour, they quickly plunged into the exposed flank of the Fatimids, which had turned in to envelope my spear men. Myself, I joined my knights in a charge on the Fatimid left. This turned the battle line, with our right overwhelming their left, and turning in on the Fatimid right. With this the first brigade broke, and I reformed my men for the next engagement.

The two other brigades approached from differing angles, one at a right angle to the other. As such, it was hard to position my army to deal with both at the same time, while still maintaining a hope of winning. I had in mind another strategy to deal with this. The brigade coming on the Damascus road was closer, so I decided to use this to bait my trap. I had reformed my line in the same direction, facing Jerusalem, as it had started the battle. Now I turned my left flank, my trained and veteran soldiers, to the left, and made them charge the very right of the Damascan Fatimids. This attack drew in the Jeruslamites, and they attacked these spear men. I close the door on this trap, charging the remainder of my troops into the rear of the Fatimids. There was great confusion here, and the battle could swing either way.

This was a considerable improvement from what I had faced earlier in the day, but still, it was not won. My archers, who had been constantly peppering and harassing the enemy all day long, were now themselves being chased by the Fatimid light calvary. I committed myself to deal with this, distancing myself from the main battle, but if I had succeeded in this gambit, I would have a large, mostly fresh, force to commit to action. The Arabians could not stand against the heavily armoured Norman knights, and they soon broke. I shouted orders to the archer captain, to abandon their bows and unsheathe their swords. The general press of this new force I hoped would add much need morale support to my men, and dismay my opponents.

It was a hard slog. I was nearly unhorsed several times, only to be saved the indignity by an olive club wielding pilgrim. They were dressed only in sack cloth, but fought like regular Achilleses. They, it was my belief, won the battle for us. They were not taught the cautious defensive tactics of the spear men, but instead relied on frenzied wielding on their clubs, and smashed the shields and resolve of the Moslems. The two brigades broke after an intense melee battle, where most of my knights were killed. When they did break, my men were too exhausted to give chase. We had faced an army of 23,000 with 10,000, half of which were untrained irregulars. We had sustained casualties, at the end of battle there were only 4,750 men still fighting. Some, however, recovered from their wounds, and by the time we had marched and sieged Jerusalem, my army had grown to the still meagre size of 6,000 men. The Fatimids, who had started out with 23,000 men, left the field with 5,500, meaning that for our 4,000 killed, 16,000 Moslems were dispatched. It was by no means the end of our war in the Holy Land, but we had landed a decisive blow on the Fatimids.

Chapter 13: The End Approaches

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My army walked into Jerusalem, not a sole in sight. The Jeruslamites had heard the story, I later learned, about our battle. They were expecting horrible, gruesome half men, bent on destruction. What they got were several thousand weary, tired soldiers. We did go half way around the world to destroy our prize, but rather to glorify it. The men were quartered, sometimes with co-operative, sometimes unco-operative citizens. The barracks, like many parts of the city's infrastructure had been looted and partially destroyed by rioters and mobs while the city was ungoverned. With the arrival of my 6,000 troops though, order was restored.

I made my way up to the Citadel. A Mosque sat their, the Dome of the Rock. It was a holy place for Moslems, and there were a lot of Moslems in Jerusalem. I had several of my advisers in tow, and I was dictating orders out to them. First of repair work had to be done, to the barracks, stables and other parts of the city. Secondly, we had to get the men back up to a fresh and fighting standard. They were exhausted by the battle and the resultant march, but I was sure our fighting was not over. The Fatimids held a powerful kingdom. They would surely not tolerate our presence in its midst. We were cut off from Sicily. Even if we had controlled the sea, we were hundreds of miles from help. Effectively, I was ruling a separate kingdom from Jerusalem. Nominally, it was a Duchy, but I was in sole control and command of the army, garrison and building work here. Even if Simone wanted to intervene, he could not. I was approaching fifty, but I began working on building a new province and kingdom for my King, and myself.

It took many months to get Jerusalem back to it's potential, the one it had reached before the mob had looted it. Taxes had to be raised, something the population had expected but were still against. More troops were also raised, mainly from the Christian faction in the city, but the Jews also took up arms and armour. Agents were sent out over the countryside, to gather taxes, but also to look for any sign of a Fatimid counter attack. They controlled the land to the north, east and south. They also controlled the sea to the west, and I was in no place challenge them anywhere, for I had few ships, and not enough men. My strategy was to sit in Jerusalem, strike out against any Fatimid army that came close and try to carve out an enclave in Judea.

We were at the crossroads of the Fatimid empire. To the south troops came up from Egypt, heading to Damascus and beyond, fodder for the bloody war between the Seljuk and Fatimids. My army grew steadily, reaching the number of 10,000 before too long. Many of them were battle hardened, from the Crusade, and the many little battles I led them out to engage in. I knew I could not let a big Fatimid force gather, even if it was intended for Anatolia. As such, I marched out with my army to engage the small brigades that continuously transgressed on our lands. In that way the Fatimids came to fear and respect us. It was this respect which eventually led to a peace between our two states. It was signed at Gaza, and it was an uneasy peace. With trade again allowed to flow from Jerusalem, we began to raise more money. Simone was even able to send some more troops for me, though it took six months for them to come, after I sent my letter reporting what had happened in the past five years. My wife was even able to move to Jerusalem, our boys having grown up.

In that way I lived out the rest of my life, peaceful but only just. I had an estate near Jerusalem. On it I grew almonds and olives. I was the second most powerful Sicilian, some might say even more powerful than the King. Simone eventually had an heir to replace me. I was not a good choice, old and far away. In my stead he chose my son, the Duke of Ajaccio. I learned from my wife, the lovely, elegant Princess Matilda, that he had been waging war on the Genoans. Simone's territory had expanded to incorporate Milan, Ajaccio and a large part of North Africa. He was a well respected king, loved by the people and nobles for his fair and successful reign. Sicily, while not at peace, was at least prosperous and quiet. Merchants made money, and farmers cultivated their land, unmolested. It was a good time for the kingdom. Jerusalem, and it's county had also become more peaceful since the peace had been signed with the Fatimids. War would come again, that was certain, but the Fatimids were tired, and we were weak. Events had conspired to bring about peace.

I was growing old and tired. I had appointed a young calvary commander, Sir Augusto Contadino, a man of humble origin who had embraced the chance of a fresh beginning in Jerusalem where their were no nobles to monopolise the higher positions. He had been a farmers son, but had shown an aptitude for command and leadership, and I appointed him as my lieutenant. He eventually came to take over all of my responsibilities. I retired to my almond and pistachio groves. I was approaching my twilight years, and my health was beginning to suffer. The old in my thigh was beginning to act up again, and I could not walk for long periods. I began my memoirs to past the time, and now I approach the end of my story. I sit here, under the shady trees, in the afternoon sun. The breeze feels good against my face. I am an old man, who has seen much trouble and hardship during his life, but now I am happy. It is not Sicily, but it is a new home, and I will be happy to die here.