The Sultanate of Damascus
1143
The sounds of men walking down the giant halls of the Sultan's palace could be heard throughout the large building. The ground, made out of marble, was one of the envies of foreign king's all around the world. The servants moving thorugh the palace, unseen by the visitors, were trying their best to remain as quiet as possible. For their Sultan had just returned from fighting a vast crusader army in the north. His men had suffered defeat and were resting themselves.
Within the Sultan's bedroom, he lay, trying to heal himself of the wounds he'd sustained. There were multiple physicians and a surgeon trying their best to ensure he would get better. As he lay there, bleeding away, a man by the name of Ahmad Ibn Walid arrived at the door.
"My Sultan," He started as he stood before the man whom he had made an oath to serve only six months before, "I bring word from Hakim. He says that he has suffered defeat in Tripoli after trying to assault the castle holding the Sicilian defenders."
"How far did he manage to go before he was forced to retreat?" Sultan Moussa asked.
"He was able to get right up to the road leading to the center of the castle. However, his men could not hold up the battle. Hundreds were killed and hundreds more were captured."
Sultan Moussa groaned in pain at both his wounds and at the thought of losing those men. He'd already suffered defeat in Antioch, to hear of another only worsened his agony.
"How many were alive after the battle?"
"Under 200 men."
"Has he given any word for what he plans to do now?"
"Currently he is at sea outside of Tripoli. His plan is to move his ships toward Tunis and make a land attack."
"How does he expect to do that with only 200 men?"
"He gave me an answer for that. He said that there is an abundance of African Tribesmen and other mercenaries that would jump at the chance to make some gold. His plan is to take mercenaries and assault the castle of Tunis."
"He has full confidence in himself?"
"When he said this, he seemed very confident. There was something different about him. Suffering this defeat seemed to make him... I don't know, but he has a certain fire in his eyes. Almost as though now after having suffered defeat, he must prove himself to you, the men, and to himself."
"Good. Make sure to keep me informed on this. Thank you. What is your name, by the way, young man?"
"My name is Ahmad Ibn Walid."
Little did the Sultan know, this man would play a much larger role in his life than he could ever expect.
Beaches of Tunisia
The seven ships of the Egyptian fleet gently sloped across the horizon as they approached the beach. As the sun fell, they slowly began to advance toward the shoreline, falling out of the watchful eyes of the Sicilian guards. As they first of the men began to drop down onto the shore, General Hakim stood on the deck watching the general area of the castle they were planning on assaulting. The men now on the ground began to move through the fields, taking out the guards standing foolishly in the open.
As Hakim stood on the deck, he wondered how far Ahmad had gotten by now. He hoped that he would have been in Damascus but it was never a sure shot. Turning now to the beach, he could see the torches of the dead guards being wielded by his own men as they scattered throughout the countryside, hunting for mercenaries to hire.
As Hakim watched this, he smiled, knowing well that there would be victory soon enough if they could recruit enough men. Turning to the area of the castle once more, he laughed and then went below deck to his room. There he would write under candlelite his plans for the assault.
(Will be adding pictures for the upcoming battles)