[SS 6.4] To Change our Fate: Reforging Sicily with Steel and Heart ~Chapter 24, 1/2/13~

[Swaeft]

You guys are too kind.
But to drag this more off topic, part of the reason why the Kievan pictures were quite nice was the incredible Rusichi textures for Kiev and Novgorod. With that I could take close-ups and not lose anything. So I would say the pic quality is 1/3 texture, 1/3 photo editing and 1/3 original photo composition.

Take some pride in your work, Radzeer. You certainly deserve it.

On another note, the MAARC will have a poll commenced on or about January 1st. Remember to go there and vote for all those who deserve it! (Not me. Well, you know what I mean)

Edit: It is my duty to inform you that I have slightly altered the prologue, don't worry it's nothing to worry about, I only changed the last paragraph. (Actually the second last, if you count the last one-liner.) So go over there and have a read! It's not really unnecessary, but I felt that Fallen's (He's not going to be named that soon ) objective in the Middle Ages would be a little blurred with the plot I have in mind, so my apologies if it does cause any discomfort.

I hope to update at least twice before the MAARC commences, but don't fret-the updates are already planned and won't be sketchy, half-hearted attempts to plant content inside. I just need the battle of Tripoli

Happy New Year to all in advance!

[Swaeft]

Character Background Information

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Sir Fallen: A young man from Palermo, recently Knighted at the Chapel of Palermo. He never knew his parents as they abandoned him when he was much younger. He was brought up by a veteran Knight who adopted him, and almost everything our Hero knows about swordsmanship, fighting and the like was taught by his guardian, the Knight. Our Hero enjoys adventuring and freedom, and dislikes authority, especially nobles that rule unfairly with an iron fist. Has good knowledge about swordplay, but other than a wooden spear, our Hero knows nothing about other weapons. Has grasped a slight amount of knowledge about farming after observing the Peasants work in their fields. Has also developed a reputation for defending the Peasantry from unreasonable people of higher status.

Saphirra: A teenager with youthful looks, but behind that face of innocence lies a deadly desire to rule the world as a queen, superseded only by her desire for pleasure. She leads a hitherto unheard of cult, and inherited her position as cult leader from her now deceased mother. Her cult believes in what Sir Fallen believes in-to save the Kingdom of Sicily, Sir Fallen must become King. She is willing to go to any lengths to ensure that happens, but may have her own motives as well...

Prince Ruggero: Eldest and only son of King Ruggero, he is quite young and has recently graduated from the military academy at Naples. Has never participated in any battle before and is eager to impose his authority on his on soldiers. The greenhorn is impetuous and some say bold to the point where he charges into fights foolishly.

Important Logistical References

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

South Sicilian Army: An army under the command of Duke Simone Guiskard of Syracuse. It had been commissioned into service just a month ago. At full strength it numbers almost a thousand and a half men. Its objectives are to make the settlements of Tunis, Al-Mahdiya and Tripoli bow to the rule of the Kingdom of Sicily.

I had to get a new horse in place of Swaeft, so I wasn't in the best of moods when we formed up for battle. I learnt that Prince Ruggero himself had arrived to command us, bringing extra men as reinforcements. I thought that King Ruggero had some nerve to name his son with his exact name, but I kept that to myself. The sky was overcast, just like Al-Mahdiya, but this time there wouldn't be an incompetent commander in charge.

Prince Ruggero, fresh from the military academy, inflicted with scurvy and with no battle experience whatsoever, handed command of the South Sicilian Army to me. Even though I hadn't gone through military school when I was young, I had still fought in more battles in the Prince, and even though we didn't say it, I would have bet all my florins he knew I commanded more respect from the men then he did. He didn't totally give up command to me though, he could technically order me around and instruct me on what to do, but he assured me the latter would suffice for him.

So we discussed the battle plan in his tent, which was suitably larger than what Knights had. Since we had already assembled 3 rams, we would use one to attack the front and two to assault from the sides. Prince Ruggero thought it a sound plan and it was agreed upon. And so under the suffocating blackness of the clouds we marched on Tripoli.

The Battle of Tripoli

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

VS

The rebels were hastening to their defenses like frightened rabbits. Prince Ruggero told me that he had already split our army as per our plan; one company of Urban Spear Militia pushing a ram and one company of Mounted Sergeants to the East, one company of Muslim Archers pushing a ram and a heavily depleted company of Mounted Sergeants to the West Gate, and the rest of our forces in the center. I sent messages to all the company commanders; the rams were to be pushed forwards simultaneously. The rebels could then split their army to defend 3 gates but weaken each defending side's strength, or consolidate their power at one gate but risk being flanked in their own town.

As it turned out, they chose neither. The bulk of their army retreated to the city square, while they sent a company of Spear Militia to defend the East and Main gates. Rain started to pour down on the men, and while it kept us cold I held hope that it would deter the defenders from trying to burn our rams with flaming arrows. For the Main Gate, Prince Ruggero directed Gordon's company of Peasant Infantry to break down the walls.

The big mosque overlooking the main gate was all the rebels could pray to as the Peasants advanced.


I received news that the companies pushing the ram to the West Gate had broken through; it was excellent news for our men.


This was when everything changed. As Gordon's company of Peasant Infantry were about to batter down the main gate, their general arrived and opened the gates himself, taking Gordon's regiment by surprise. The Peasants were outmatched and would not survive long. "Come on, Sir Fallen, let's get them!" Prince Ruggero was eager for battle, and had spurred his mount onwards, eliciting the same enthusiastic response from his bodyguards.

"Blast!" I thought to myself. The Prince was ill, and I wasn't about to let him fall in battle. I rode hard towards him with my company of Knights in close attendance. Here we had an interesting situation; the enemy general was in the open, without any support from his army, but we couldn't just charge in there, our Peasant Infantry were in the way. "My lord, allow me to go and crush the enemy general!" I pleaded. "Your health is not well."

Prince Ruggero shrugged. "It's your choice. But I want them charged down like the idiots they are."

"My lord? Charged down? We don't have the room to charge; the gate only allows two Knights to go in side by side. Furthermore, our Peasant Infantry are fighting in front of-"

"Sir Fallen, are you here to lead or to discuss battle plans? I had assumed we had done the latter in my tent. If you won't charge, I will."

I tried my best to remonstrate with him, to make him see the folly of such a move. "But my lord, our men are in the way! And the enemy captain is surrounded by spearmen, the perfect counter for your cavalry!"

Prince Ruggero failed to heed my warnings, and dismissed them as 'cowardice'. He led his impetuous Knights straight to the gate, and what else could I do but follow? We plowed through friend and foe alike, the Peasants and Spearmen screaming in horror. The enemy captain didn't seem to expect our charge, but then again no one would have expected it. We killed as many of our Sicilians as we did the rebels. The enemy captain was efficiently surrounded and dispatched. I felt no glory or honor killing him.


I even saw many of the Prince's bodyguards ride down the Peasants that got in their way. This gave rise to a bout of anger in me, and I angrily rode up towards the Prince, too enraged to care about the sickening crunch I heard. I must have rode over a body. I heard a gasp but couldn't care less about turning back, something that would haunt me later on.

I didn't get to the Prince as I wanted to, during the chaos of battle he had already charged into the town's streets and was fighting against some Desert Cavalry. This left the majority of the army at the main gate, still unsure of what to do. I took command instinctively, and the feeling that I was about to issue my first orders led to a surge of adrenaline that quickly culminated in a battle-frenzy state of mind. "Forward, brave men of Sicily. Forward, and let the dogs inside know of our courage and bravery!"

I ordered everyone to charge the main street while I took my company of knights to outflank the defenders. A thundering boom marked the end of the East Gate, pummeled into oblivion by our rams. There was heavy fighting at the East Gate, but our men were winning.

As I passed the West Gate, I noticed our Muslim Archers running away from a company of Spearmen. I was treated to an inspiring spectacle of bravery, the last remaining men of the depleted company of Mounted Sergeants were holding back an enemy force fifteen times larger so that the archers could escape from the melee.


I suppressed the urge to help them and instead stuck to the battle plan, but it wasn't easy at all. My apprehension increased with every passing second until my company finally met up with the cavalry at the East Gate. Together, we proceeded to attack the enemy form the rear, just like how I did at Al-Mahdiya, except this time we had greater numbers and a far higher chance of success. The Prince's bodyguard had broken through the enemy lines and joined us in the fight.


I gave in to the primal blood lust in me, and lunged forwards at an enemy man riding a camel. My horse snorted and reared up, almost throwing me off balance. I had forgotten it hated the stench of camels. Swaeft would never have let me down this way.

The Saharan rebel laughed at me and inched his camel closer, his scimitar dancing in a deadly pattern towards me. That was his last mistake. My horse had nowhere to run after being pushed back against the rest of my company, so it made a break for it-straight past the Saharan rebel and his malodorous camel. I took the chance to aim a well-timed blow at his neck, one that he never recovered from. "Who's next?" I yelled.

No one dared to come for me. They were all dead.

We cheered and taunted the remaining defenders from behind-our Urban Spear Militia had pushed them back to the town square. They were apparently so frightened by their desolate and leaderless situation that they forgot to watch their backs. My archers punished them heavily for that blunder.


None of them lived to correct their error.

I had successfully managed a battle that could have gone either way with my casualties less than a third of the enemy's. I led everyone to the town square where a wooden platform was being constructed for Prince Ruggero to give the victory speech.

He never came. One of his bodyguards came to me and told me the Prince wanted to see me, and I found him in a place I least expected to-his tent.

His chest was wrapped in numerous, blood soaked bandages. "My lord, what happened?" I exclaimed in surprise and shock.

Prince Ruggero reached for me and moved his mouth to talk, but the agony was too much for him to bear. One of his bodyguards answered me. "We were riding high and mighty into Tripoli when he took four javelins to the chest. Three bounced off his armor, one went straight through."

At that moment I really had to bite my lip to stifle my laughter. The Prince had actually withdrawn from battle before his men! Instead, my lips moved to appease him. "My lord, our men have captured the settlement by sticking to the plan. What shall we do?"

"S..ack the damn t..own."

I saluted and made to leave, but Prince Ruggero grasped my hand. "No...don't g...go." One of his bodyguards left in my stead to deliver the message. "I'm fini...shed..stay here and listen to me...ACH!" The Prince coughed, and a wad of blood landed on my breastplate. He pulled me closer, his shoulders supported by his loyal bodyguards. His body heaved for a few moments before he regained his composure and ability to speak.

"Your battle plan was flawless, Sir Fallen. You would never have known it, but I...I felt proud of you when you presented your tactics to me...in my tent." He inhaled deeply before continuing. "But I'm not going to make it, I can feel it in my bones."

"My lord, don't be silly. We'll get you the best doctor in the Kingdom."

"And when will he arrive? Two years? No, don't bother, he'll arrive to attend to a pile of bones and dust. Listen to me, I've got something important to tell you." He clutched me by the arm, his grip no less weaker than my own despite his injured state. "You fought well, I heard, and you had a sound set of tactics. Normally this isn't enough to grant you the rank of a family member, but our Kingdom is short of men. We need exceptional, courageous men with leadership qualities. You are one of those that we seek."

Prince Ruggero raised his hand, and one of his bodyguards hurried to his desk and procured a letter. He handed it to Prince Ruggero, who now thrust it onto my hands. "Take this, and g...go to Palermo, show it to the King...and give him my...my..." His eyes fluttered and his face was turning pale.

"My lord, stay with us!" One of his bodyguards yelled. I stuffed the letter into my pocket and shook him hard.

"Give him my..." He was rambling now, his eyes almost closed, his bandages soaked to their limit with the blood pouring out from his wound.

"Give...him..."

"My...regardssss..."

And his head lolled limply to one side, he breathed his last breath and I knew he was gone.


So that was it.

I strode out to the town square to observe the soldiers. Many bodies were strewn around the streets, between houses, and some stuffed in alleys where many unknown struggles had taken place. The cleaning up was going to take a while, and it was made worse by some of the population standing in the streets watching intently. If they had removed the scarves wrapped around their mouths I would probably have seen a glance of their mouths twisted in disgust. I was not obliged to perform the duty of clearing up, but I noticed Donald and Gordon doing their part, so I told myself to chip in.

"There you are." Gordon paused to acknowledge me, the body he was dragging hanging limply in his arms. Donald barely looked up, and Gordon instantly went back to work.

"Come on, what's the problem here?" I knew these two were usually chatty fellows, but I guessed they were saddened by yet another round of deaths. I tried to make conversation, hoping to take their minds off the aura of death surrounding us. "Where's Thorn? Already drinking at the tavern?"

Gordon dropped the body he was carrying to the ground. It landed with a sickening thud.

"He's dead. As a matter of fact, he died ten minutes ago."

"What! How? Did someone back stab him?"

"No, he was wounded at the start of the battle. He was one of the soldiers pushing the ram towards the gates. He was wounded in the midriff by an arrow the moment the ram reached the gate. He had to suffer intense agony until the gate was breached and soldiers could come to his aid. But you know what? Before anyone could help him his chest was staved in by the hoof of a horse."

I mourned silently. Thorn didn't deserve such an untimely death. He was a trained swordsman, and even if he were to die he deserved to have a chance to pit his skills against the enemy, instead of being trampled under before he even had a chance to close with the rebels.

"I was told he was trampled by one of the Knights in your company." I looked up at Gordon's unsmiling face.

"I was told it was you."

"No..." It was happening all over again, the nauseating feeling, the retching, the barfing. It couldn't be possible. But somehow I felt angry. With myself of with Gordon, I didn't know. But I had to release it. Somehow.

"So you're blaming me now, is that it?" I raised my voice, perhaps a little bit louder than I would have liked. Gordon's eyes blazed with anger, a red mist surrounding us mentally. "YES!" He roared. "You and your damned Knights! You're all lies, fakes! You falsify the true meaning of chivalry!"

My fists opened and clenched uncontrollably, but the words I spat out would never have been my own a month ago. "Do you know that this is war? I am a Knight. I saved many more people than you ever can and ever will! I tried my best, and it was unfortunate that I trampled Thorn in the process. Yes, I am remorseful, but don't shout at me like that! The situation at the gate was so panicky I had to lead my company through!"

Gordon would have punched me there and then if Donald hadn't stopped him. "Alright, alright amico, get your hands off him." Gordon's strength slowly faded, his anger giving way to sadness. Tremors wracked his body as he sobbed on the ground.

"Ach, you forget he is a grown man when he does such stuff." Donald was try to reassure me. "Don't worry about Thorn, it's not your fault. It was a...disgrazia. But you didn't need to shout at him either." Donald dragged Gordon away towards a chair, and I turned away, my face burning scarlet in shame as I remembered the cry of agony I had heard...

I stalked away, unwilling to blame myself for Thorn's death. Our Captain had declared four hours of free time for us to sack the town, but I wasn't interested in the florins. Instead, I found myself dragged to a deserted alley, and once again Saphirra was facing me. "By the Gods, Fallen, that was an astonishing display of swordsmanship and heroism!" I smiled at her, her touch warming my heart, and I felt that I had finally received the compliments I felt I deserved. We embraced briefly before I remembered her purpose in following me here.

"So what are we looking for?"

"Well, actually we've already found it. While your army was engaged with the rebels, a small number of the tried to secretly smuggle out a rare amethyst from the rear gate. My accomplices ambushed them and took it. It belongs...here."

She lifted the pendant from underneath her robe and held it up close to our faces. "Watch." In her other hand, she lifted the amethyst and handed it to me. "Your blood is needed for this to work. Just push it close to the pendant." I complied and watched, awestruck, as the pendant seemed to absorb the jewel entirely.

"With this your claim to the throne is all but solidified. This ancient jewel will unlock all of the powers this pendant has to offer. You merely have to discover them, but that alone is no easy feat."

She returned it to me, and it felt good to finally have Princess Maximilla's pendant around my neck once again.

Instantly my mind was swamped with her concerned voice.

Where were you, Fallen? Are you alive? I couldn't contact you for the past seven hours! I could hear here waiting with bated breath for my answer.

Of course I am, Milla. What's wrong?

A few seconds of sobbing ensued, then-Oh, thank God! Come back to Palermo immediately, I need to tell you something.

That's exactly where I'm heading right now. I heard her breath a sigh of relief, but something told me this was more than just simple relief and me surviving three battles. Is your father there?

Yes he is, he just returned, fresh from the victory at Cagliari. That island's now ours, but I must say your army has done a fantastic job on campaign.

Yes, we have. It'll be good to finally return home.

See you back here, Fallen. Make it quick.

I will, Milla. See you soon.

I severed the connection and found Saphirra staring inquisitively at me. "Well, looks like I've gotta go. I've got an important message to deliver to King Ruggero."

"Aww..." Saphirra's hands snaked up to my neck. "You sure you don't want to stay and play first?" I was distracted by her encouragement, but forced myself to focus. The Kingdom come's first. I wanted to see the Princess anyway. It had been an entire year gone without glancing at her beautiful face. So I declined Saphirra's offer. If she was hurt, she didn't show it at all. That's something I have to work on.

I boarded the first ship back to Palermo, and the captain promised to send me there as quickly as possible, especially once I showed him my letter to the King.

I also made extensive use of the 'larger cabins for a young knight like you', below decks.

[Swaeft]

And that's the end of book one! Hooray! There may be another update tomorrow, the chapter's already half finished, and that update has got some twists I dare say . Until then, happy reading!

[Swaeft]

Character background Information

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Sir Fallen: A young man from Palermo, recently Knighted at the Chapel of Palermo. He never knew his parents as they abandoned him when he was much younger. He was brought up by a veteran Knight who adopted him, and almost everything our Hero knows about swordsmanship, fighting and the like was taught by his guardian, the Knight. Our Hero enjoys adventuring and freedom, and dislikes authority, especially nobles that rule unfairly with an iron fist. Has good knowledge about swordplay, but other than a wooden spear, our Hero knows nothing about other weapons. Has grasped a slight amount of knowledge about farming after observing the Peasants work in their fields. Has also developed a reputation for defending the Peasantry from unreasonable people of higher status.

Saphirra: A teenager with youthful looks, but behind that face of innocence lies a deadly desire to rule the world as a queen, superseded only by her desire for pleasure. She leads a hitherto unheard of cult, and inherited her position as cult leader from her now deceased mother. Her cult believes in what Sir Fallen believes in-to save the Kingdom of Sicily, Sir Fallen must become King. She is willing to go to any lengths to ensure that happens, but may have her own motives as well...

Princess Maximilla: Daughter of King Ruggero. A stunning form of beauty said to have been given to the Kingdom of Sicily by God himself as a gift. She is only 15, but carries herself well enough in court so as to avoid embarrassment. Due to her exquisite beauty, she is often hankered after by many Dukes and Barons, and King Ruggero selects her suitors for her. She is confined to the torturous life of a medieval Princess, and her father treats her like how any other King in that time would have; as a political tool. And she absolutely detests her life, and often seeks a way out of it. Has become Fallen's secret love interest.

King Ruggero: The current King of the Kingdom of Sicily. Usually lays back in his throne room and directs the Kingdom from there, but also never seen at important battles. He is pudgy and greedy when it comes to food. He keeps a tight rein on his Royal Family and their behaviors. Generally disliked by the nobility and the knights, but is capable at ruling the Kingdom.

Right before reaching Palermo, I realized with horror that I was not fit for presentation. My hair was a disheveled mess, and there were still bloodstains all over my tunic. I tried to straighten my hair to the best of my ability, and used a blunt razor to shave off any stubble that I happened to have, almost cutting my chin in the process. I decided that I would be garbed in simple clothes, for there was no time to clean my armor. After donning the shirt and pants Princess Maximilla had given me a few years ago, I clasped the pendant of true blood around my neck. After viewing myself through the mirror, I assessed that I was fit to meet the King, and when the ship docked I proceeded towards the Keep, four guards in close attendance.

Halfway there I was interrupted by Princess Maximilla. She ordered the guards to escort me to her room, and for the first time in a year we walked side by side, hand in hand. I could feel her vibrant energy thrumming within her, eager to be unleashed, but she had to wait until we were alone.

And that did not take long. We spent the better part of an hour doing what she and I had yearned for for so long. “I missed you so much, Sir Fallen.” She managed to construct a sentence despite her breathlessness. “You must have learned a trick or two about this.”

That comment brought out an earful of laughter from the both of us, but suddenly I remembered Saphirra and my indiscretions. I turned away, hoping she would not notice the tangible guilt in my eyes. “I’m sorry, my Princess, but I must see your father. I’ve an urgent letter to deliver to him.”

Princess Maximilla was caught off guard. “Is that why you came back?”

“Well, yes...and no. I also came to see you, my Princess.”

Whether she saw through my lies or not I did not know, but she looked down, and her shoulders dropped slightly. I lifted her chin. “What’s wrong, Milla?”

She sniffled softly. “Father has married my sister off to a French noble, Prince Louis. He is well known for being a lazy, pompous ruler, and I can’t believe my sister has to serve him for the rest of her life! He doesn't even seem to care about his sons anymore!"


I was aghast. “I’m not going to let that happen to you.” I promised. “I’m going to speak to the King now.”

She nodded, her tears dripping onto the soft quilt mattress of the bed.

When I finally reached my destination, the King's escorts opened the heavy iron doors for me, then proceeded to their assigned places outside. I entered the throne room alone.

King Ruggero had not changed much since when I first saw him. He was still on the corpulent side, and his demeanor was still slightly arrogant with a touch of authority. His hair had grown ghostly white, a sign of old age. He was staring straight at me, his eyes slightly glassed with the strain of managing a Kingdom. But I sensed something else in those glassy eyes, a certain trepidation of sorts.

I must be mistaken. I brushed off the feeling of apprehension and knelt before King Ruggero. "Your Majesty,

I have arrived to deliver news from our southern campaign."

“Speak, young one.”

“Your Majesty...your younger son is dead.”

“W...What? HOW?”

I remembered the way Prince Ruggero charged ahead of the army, trampling friend and foe alike. I remembered how he abandoned the battle plan in pursit of glory. I remembered the many deaths he caused on our side...

“He died a noble and honorable death, your Majesty. He led his troops from the front and died like a true man.” I spoke through gritted teeth, unable to say aloud how I had glorified his death. King Ruggero mistook my anger for resentment at the Prince’s murderers. He clutched his temples in his hands and massaged them. “So ends the life of my younger son.” The silence lasted for all of five minutes.

“You couldn’t have come all the way here just to deliver me that message, did you? How about the
settlements?”

“Tunis, Al-Mahdiya and Tripoli are all under our control. Public order is being maintained, but we won’t survive an attack. We need reinforcements at Tripoli-its situation is the most desperate.”

King Ruggero nodded and stroked his beard. “All in good time, young one. Is that all?”

“No, your Majesty. I have here a letter from your son, addressed to you.” I took it out from my tunic and handed it to him. King Ruggero immediately unsealed it and began reading.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Father,

I may not have served you to the best of my ability, and I am greatly saddened if this letter ever has to reach your hands. If it does, it means that I am watching you from above. Do not fret, however, for this time I have found a suitable Knight to replace me, to continue serving you. I know you grieve for your loss, father, and as much as I wish to see you again fate may have other designs; other ideas. Forgive my impertinence and early death, but I bring before you someone who can continue serving us, someone who is loyal, smart and brave. He is the bearer of this letter. His name is Sir Fallen, and I wish to accept him into our family as my last act. I know he will do his utmost to serve the Kingdom. However, I have taken the liberty of giving him a new name, I do not wish to have a skilled fighter's name as Fallen. After days of deliberation I have decided to name him...Romano de Corleone.

May you bring our Kingdom to greater heights,
Ruggero

The letter was blotched with the tears King Ruggero shed for his son. "He truly is my son...a shrewd observer with a dash of humor.

Not that the humor or shrewdness saved is life...

I only desire to see the latest commander I have to welcome to our family." King Ruggero didn't give me permission to rise, so I remained there, kneeling on the cold cobblestone floor. It seemed as if he was inspecting me, his eyes piercing, searching for any weakness in me. After what seemed like an eternity, his gaze softened.

So I had a new name. Again.



"Rise, young General." His voice seemed laden with sadness. I did so and stood. King Ruggero was slightly taller than me, his facial expression unreadable. He was good at keeping his emotions to himself, something I admired and lacked at the same time.

"Your Majesty?" I dared to question. "What is it that you require of me?" King Ruggero turned around, but did not face me. Yet again I detected the look of fear the King had on him earlier on.

"Walk with me, young General." He proceeded swiftly towards the iron doors, his silver cape billowing out behind him. I hastened to follow him, and soon I found myself next to the beauties of a garden. It was quite modest by royal standards, but was huge enough for a person to get lost in between all the shrubbery. King Ruggero told his guards to wait at the entrance, then beckoned me in.

He was silent for awhile, simply strolling along the various exquisite smelling flowers, the thick green hedges and the overarching masses of intertwined wall-hanging plants that casted a myriad of various sized oblong shadows on the soft tufts of grass on the ground. I tried to reflect on his purpose on bringing me here. He was in his late sixties at least, possibly into his mid-seventies, but still had time to stroll around? And what of the numerous tasks that managing a Kingdom required? My head buzzed with unanswered questions in the afternoon sun, but I dared not break the silence. However little respect I had for this ruler, he was still my liege, he was still Princess Maximilla's father, and he was still keeping the Kingdom of Sicily robust.

After we had plodded past almost every single variation of the flora in the garden, King Ruggero led me towards a grey stone set of chairs at the end of the garden, directly opposite the entrance. As we approached, King Ruggero made to sit down, so I hastily rushed in front of him and pulled a chair out for him to sit. He muttered his thanks and sat down heavily. I did likewise opposite him, and when he started our conversation with a sigh, I knew it was going to be a long one.

He gestured towards the balcony that I hadn't realized we were on, and I was awestruck as I tilted my head right to witness the breathtaking scene of the Palermo docks. We weren't so far or so high away from the docks, and as such I was treated to a spectacular visage of the docks and its surroundings. I tried to keep my emotions in check, but I knew my cheeks were burning from excitement. Many painters had become affluent overnight due to the selling of majestic, grand panoramic paintings. This scene would fit in any of those I had seen in the marketplace perfectly.

The golden sun was setting, its rays of light temporarily obstructed by the amber-tinted mass of clouds that were streaking across the sky. It was then King Ruggero started to speak.

"Have you seen the glory of Palermo from this angle before, young General?" King Ruggero's eyes never left the docks as he spoke. It was a rhetorical question, as only the nobility were permitted access to the upper levels of the Palace, but I answered anyway. "No, your Majesty."

King Ruggero nodded, seemingly more to himself than to me, and asked another question. "Do you know how much work was needed to create such a thriving dock, and such a flourishing kingdom?" Currently the Kingdom of Sicily didn't seem to be flourishing to me, but I replied with the exact same answer. King Ruggero sighed once more, and his right hand rose to pinch the bridge of his nose, then his forehead. I recalled seeing someone do that before in the future Palermo, but those memories were so foggy I couldn't remember any other detail.

King Ruggero decided to name Duke Guiskard the new heir to his throne. That bothered me incessantly.


"I'd like to appoint you as Royal Historian of the Kingdom." King Ruggero announced. He gave me no time to ask questions. "Your duties are simple-record every important event that happens throughout the years of our Kingdom."

"Why entrust me with such a role, your Majesty?" I was about to ask, when I realized I would be given access to all of the Kingdom's reports and records, something I had dreamed of since I was a boy.

"-be given access to our Kingdom's various materials, reports and the like." King Ruggero was saying. "So what do you say?"

"It will be an honor, your Majesty."

"Good. Let's see how you're going to interpret this." He slid across a stack of parchments to me, they had one title on every page and were in the handwriting of the King.

The Battle of Cagliari

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

20th of the Seventh Month of Year 1101 AD



It was a bright, albeit sweltering day, and I sensed the rebels were in a hurry to get this battle done with, just like we were. They charged out of the gates, brandishing all forms of curved and sharp weapons. This was not really a question of who would win, but a question of how many men we would lose. I led my men by example and charged their leading company. As we drew close I saw one of the rebels throw up his arms to ward of the sunlight our helmets and shields were reflecting towards them.


They were vanquished, the weight of our charge crushing many below us before they could even point a finger at us. The man with his arms up enjoyed a 'higher' death than the rest. He would have a longer trip to Hell to endure.


By now the rest of the North Sicilian Army were pushing hard against the remnants of the defeners, and once again I charged them, and our horses never once balked at the sight of so many men running away.


Their Spearmen tried to hold the line and protect their captain, but they couldn't do both at the same time-they spectacularly failed to do either job well.


The entire army started to retreat towards the towns square-when they realized the gates had been controlled and locked shut by our Mounted Sergeants. They had nowhere to go and surrendered. We lost only 14 men.

"That's an incredible victory, your Majesty."

"Yes, it is. You'll need to learn how to mastermind one of those in future. For now, store that in the archives and take a look at these diplomatic reports instead."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

"With the signing of three new pacts in the last year, our Kingdom now boasts six allies in total, no one should dare to openly declare war against us."


"The Moorish and Seljuk leaders have also perished, but that is of little concern to us now."




"The Portugese-Spanish Alliance will be a formidable test for the Moorish Caliphate in Iberia, and although it is interesting news, it has really no effect on us."

"Do you know now how to interpret and store the reports accordingly?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

King Ruggero proceeded to instruct me on how to behave in court, how one should dress to impress, how one should conduct himself in speech and so on. My tutelage took the greater part of the afternoon, until at last the Sun was starting to give way to the freezing moon, the sky emitting one last salmon-pink glow from the horizons, and the King made to stand up. It was then the Sun, parallel to our position, blazed its final rays straight at us. In doing so, it bathed our bodies in the crimson sunshine, illuminating every single piece of our apparel. The pendant around my neck glowed the brightest underneath my shirt, it's amethysts reflecting the rays like a chromium mirror, scintillating in the phosphorescent sunlight.

It was then I noticed King Ruggero glaring at it, his mouth agape in the utmost consternation, his face ablaze with the weirdest expression amid the fluorescent flare of my pendant. His eyes locked with mine, and there it was again, the look of trepidation I had first seen when I met him hours ago.

"W...where did you get that?" He asked, his panic unable to mask his prurient prying. He seemed to gag, then croaked out, "Never mind, it's not important." I didn't even begin to perceive what was going on. What was the King so terrified of? To him, it was supposedly a mere pendant, and according to Saphirra he had no knowledge of the pendant of true blood yet. It now seems that her intelligence was flawed.

The King grasped me by the shoulder, and dragged my down under the table by the scruff of my neck.

There we hid, under the stone table, while the King panted furiously. "You...you..."

"Your Majesty, what exactly has come over you? Are you ill, or is it something more...spiritual?" The thought that God had contacted King Ruggero had only crossed my mind for a fleeting instant, but the situation now was so absurd I was ready to believe anything. The King continued panting raggedly, and he cupped my face in his hands. "You...you are just as Timothy described. Your eyes...they glimmer like he said they would."

All this talk of a man named Timothy was unnerving me. I was feeling extremely light-headed now, and suddenly a bolt of pain seared through me, blasting me into an unknown realm.

I was so small, so brittle and fragile. Liquid was spilling all over me. "Father, where are we going?" I heard myself utter. But it wasn't me. I seemed to be in another dimension, devoid of a body and soul. Normally this would have frightened me, but I curiosity was peeling at me, leeching off my emotions, so I followed the father and his tiny son.

I didn't recognize the man, but an odd spark of familiarity and deja vu coursed through me. I know this guy... The son was in his arms, and they were running away from something. My vision veered uncontrollably to the left, and I saw houses and farmyards burning. It was pretty dark as it was evening, and the burning of the buildings provided the occasional flicker of light I needed to see in the blackness. Then I heard a ear-splitting howl, and my vision shifted involuntarily to the right.

"Prince Ruggero is coming, he has defied the terms! Run for your lives! Protect Timothy!" My field of vision lurched further right before I could contemplate the meaning of the scream. I saw an army of a thousand, torching houses and burning bodies. No one was spared. My view quickly flickered towards the man named Timothy, and saw that he had reached the safety of a house I presumed was his. There was another boy there, older than the one Timothy was carrying in his arms. He was crying, sobbing pitifully as he knelt beside a crumpled body.

It was a woman. Timothy was shouting instructions to the two boys, and the older one took hold of the younger one while he exchanged pained words with Timothy. Suddenly, and without any warning of sorts, my field of vision jolted backwards, and I was accelerating away from the scene of destruction. The two boys now entered a...trapdoor? I couldn't tell. It looked to me as if the young boy was crawling away from the older one. By now my field of vision was getting darker and darker, to the point that the last thing I was able to make out was Timothy duelling a few men at the same time. Then my vision turned murky, but one thing was crystal clear.

The young boy was gone.

I snapped back to reality, eyes fixated on King Ruggero. If the vision was to be believed, King Ruggero had destroyed and sacked a village without mercy. And he had 'violated the terms'. We stared at each other, King Ruggero still cupping my face, murmuring unintelligible words. His facial expression was completely transformed , oddly enough he now bore a smile on his face. His fingers slowly caressed my cheek lightly, until I shifted my hands to stop him. I spat out the words I knew he hoped no one would ever ask him, and waited cautiously for his response. "What did you do as a Prince? What village did you raze to the ground?"

King Ruggero uttered a choked cry, spittle flying from his mouth. "So you do know!" He pulled me out from under the table, and we both sat down again on the stone chairs. My hands we ready; any wrong move he made would result in a sword fight, one I was sure I could win due to his old age. "You really are one of true blood." His last sentence confirmed my suspicions that Saphirra was wrong about the King's knowledge. He grasped my hands and spoke gravely. "Listen to me, young General. What you just saw was not a vision. It was true." The shock I felt jarred me to the bone. This King was a murderer. I turned and faced King Ruggero, looking at him, the flames of anger stirring in my heart. Surprisingly, he didn't fear me, in fact I was sure I detected a small hint of a smile on his grey lips. He let go of my hand and reached beneath his shirt, pulling out a pendant almost similar to mine, except that its color was grey. Startled, I subconsciously reached for my own.

"There are three of these pendants throughout our Kingdom, and they hold immense, unimaginable power together. Even alone, these pendants are bestowed with enormous power. They hold secrets that we have only just began to uncover. What you just experienced was a flashback of something related to your childhood." I sat stock still, riveted by the story the King was weaving, and did not notice his expression turn mournful.

"I'll tell you the truth, since I owe it to you. The scene you just witnessed, yes, the havoc was created by me, I needed to find the other two pendants." He ran his fingers through mine while speaking. "Timothy is my brother, and a long time ago we were great friends. We always told each other we'd stick together no matter what happened. In the end, my father, the previous King of Sicily, couldn't decide which one of us to pass the crown on to, so in order to determine which one of us he would name his faction heir, he threw down a gauntlet to us; he wanted us to compete against each other. He had hidden three of these pendants, one each in Naples, Syracuse and Palermo. Whoever found them first would be named the faction heir. Desperate to win, I turned Naples upside down, until I finally found the pendant in one of the tombs of the previous Kings."

"Unfortunately for me, Timothy had found the other two pendants, and came over to Naples to tell me. I knew that he would be named the faction heir, so I told him to wait for me at Syracuse, while I gathered my retinue to prepare to follow him. I took my time, gathering as many men as I could to follow me." A tear manifested in King Ruggero's old, tired eyes. "I had grown jealous of Timothy, our father always treated him better than me, he had a family and two sons, but I had nothing as I had slogged my guts out for the Kingdom. And now he was going to succeed me to the throne after I had done so much work."

"So...you..." I couldn't say anymore.

"Yes...I did. My army razed the village of Syracuse, and I spared no one. Anyone who knew what happened would have to die." He paused for a few minutes to wipe the many cold tears that had formed around the rim of his eyes.


"I told my father that a large group of organized bandits had sacked and pillaged Syracuse, but unfortunately when the news reached his ears, he fainted. It was later on discovered that he had suffered a stroke." I too was starting to sob now, listening to the tragic tale of a King revered by his people, while he hated himself.

"My father never woke up."

"So I naturally assumed the throne, and took over as King. But then after I read my father's journal I realized that the pendants were treasures that belonged to the Royal Vault. There were immensely important to the Kingdom and its people, as they signified prosperity, longevity and glory for the Kingdom.

To lose them was considered to be a stinging slap on the face of the current King. So I silenced everyone who knew that the pendants were missing. But Timothy got away."

"I've never found him since."

At this point, King Ruggero was looking at me with downcast, doleful eyes. Even though I sympathized with the King, I was still bamboozled by the whole thing. "Why are you even telling me all this? Why do I need to know what cruelty you have done in the past? How does it benefit you in any way?"
I was never prepared for the bombshell he dropped in my face. "Because I feel guilty. Because I need to confide in someone, to tell someone of my past misdeeds and wrongdoings." King Ruggero took a deep breath, his breathing no less slower than my own.

"And what better person to tell, than Timothy's own son?"

"No..." In a flash, I understood why the King had smiled at me after seeing the pendant. I comprehended why he recounted the past to me, and for that I admired him. At least he dared to own up to what he did. Not many people I knew would have done that. But then a greater realization shook me. "If I'm Timothy's son, and you're his brother, doesn't that make you my...uncle?" For the first time this afternoon, the King's face lit up in a radiant smile while he nodded.

"I'm sorry, young general, I really am. I know this may be folly, and may offend you even more, but I must know this...will you forgive me for what I have done?"

I was torn apart between two worlds. Heaven and Hell had come together, binding me to both worlds. I couldn't simply forget the horror and crimes King Ruggero had committed, and I didn't even know if I could ever find my father and brother again. But this man was my uncle, and probably the only family I would ever have left in this world. In the end, I choose to forgive the King. Blood was really thicker than water. I reasoned that I could eventually find the whereabouts of Timothy and my elder brother with the King's help.

"You don't know how much this means to me. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Now let's go inside for some hot tea. It's a Norman specialty, passed down for many generations." I prudently accepted, not entirely ready to trust this family traitor.

There was an old adage my guardian knight had told me many times in Palermo. 'To let your guard down is to trifle with misfortune.' He had drilled it onto in my mind ever since our first sparring lesson, and it had been etched firmly, unerringly in my head ever since then. Perhaps it was because I had been listening to the King ramble on for so long, or perhaps it was because I was elated I finally had family, or perhaps it was because the disappearance of the Sun had addled my brain somehow. In any case, I foolishly let my guard down.

"What a touching story." The knife struck the King clean through the sides of his stomach, its bite only worsened as the King wasn't wearing any armor, and his shock showed in his scream.

"NO!" My scream joined his, fate couldn't be so cruel, to take away a family member I just met. "Guards!" I yelled, searching for the assassin who had so boldly attempted to take the King's life.

I found the assailant sitting on the parapet overlooking the view of the docks where I had been sitting barely a minute ago with the King, clad in a red robe. From her voice, I judged that she was female. She wielded two jagged daggers in both hands, a wicked glint reflecting off them into my eyes. I risked a glance back to the King, he was just wounded. I peered towards the entrance, the four guards were already on their way here. "You'll never get away with this." I hissed, my fury mounting every second.

"Oh, but I will." The assassin proudly proclaimed. She removed her mask, and I was in for my second shock of the day.

"Saphirra?" A small small spurt of shock overcame me before I realized it all clicked; the red robe and the daggers. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, as if stabbing kings was a daily part of her life. "He needs to die." She remarked, pointing to the King, who was still writhing on the floor in pain.

"He's not going to." I countered. "You merely wounded him, and I know you won't kill me just to kill him." I drew my sword, hoping that Saphirra knew I couldn't bear to hurt her. A part of my heart still hated the King, but I couldn't abandon him like this to cold blooded assassination. "You need me just as much as I need you, and for all your skill, you just can't defeat four of the King's guards alone."

Her laughter sent chills down my spine. "I'm not going to fight you." Saphirra revealed. "And neither do I have to fight the guards."

It seemed that this day would never run out of surprises. I turned around, facing exactly what I had dreaded; the 'guards'. They stopped short of me, their halberds lowered, and surrounded me. "Remember what I said about our organization's infiltration skills?" Saphirra smirked. The 'guards' inched ever closer, and I turned desperately to face Saphirra. "Why must he die?" I asked. "Please don't kill him! He's my uncle!"

Saphirra looked at me with disdain, her head shaking slowly from side to side. Even though she was younger than me, her age belied her knowledge of politics and maturity. She appeared to have realized the hollowness of my words. "So what? What has he done for you as your uncle? What did he do to deserve your forgiveness? What guarantee does he give you that he won't try to kill you just like he tried many years ago?"

My heart sank, not just because I knew Saphirra was right, but also because I knew I had to accept the truth. I knew deep down in my heart that I had forgiven King Ruggero only because I needed his help to find Timothy. Saphirra had already promised to help me find him, and now that I knew the truth about the pendants, I knew she wouldn't betray me. At least I could count on her help for sure, unlike the insecurity of my uncle's. But I couldn't bear to kill him. Not me.

So Saphirra did. So in the end a combination of hatred, other options and a choice forced upon me made me allow the kill.



I was shocked by the way she did it. She was merciless, ruthless, and even though she gave him a quick death, I would never forget the look of shock and horror on his face.

But even more shocking was what I said to myself after the whole affair.

That traitor deserved it.

[Tigellinus]

SWAEFT! You spoil us

Another great chapter!

Keep them up mate!

[Swaeft]

SWAEFT! You spoil us

Another great chapter!

Keep them up mate!

Explain yourself...or taste steel!

[Tigellinus]

Explain yourself...or taste steel!

Haha I'll taste steal thanks

[Swaeft]

Haha I'll taste steal thanks

I'll rip off yer head and spit on yer neck!

[Tigellinus]

NO YOU WON'T! You won't touch me before my sword enter's your chest!

[Swaeft]

Character Background Information

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Sir Fallen/Romano de Corleone: A young man from Palermo, recently Knighted at the Chapel of Palermo. He never knew his parents as they abandoned him when he was much younger. He was brought up by a veteran Knight who adopted him, and almost everything our Hero knows about swordsmanship, fighting and the like was taught by his guardian, the Knight. Our Hero enjoys adventuring and freedom, and dislikes authority, especially nobles that rule unfairly with an iron fist. Has good knowledge about swordplay, but other than a wooden spear, our Hero knows nothing about other weapons. Has grasped a slight amount of knowledge about farming after observing the Peasants work in their fields. Has also developed a reputation for defending the Peasantry from unreasonable people of higher status. Has joined the Royal Family of Sicily as a result of the now deceased Prince Ruggero’s decision to allow him in. He has also married Princess Maximilla, but had to change his name because Prince Ruggero would not tolerate a person in the family named ‘Fallen’.

Saphirra: A teenager with youthful looks, but behind that face of innocence lies a deadly desire to rule the world as a queen, superseded only by her desire for pleasure. She leads a hitherto unheard of cult, and inherited her position as cult leader from her now deceased mother. Her cult believes in what Sir Fallen believes in-to save the Kingdom of Sicily, Sir Fallen must become King. She is willing to go to any lengths to ensure that happens, but may have her own motives as well...

Princess Maximilla: Daughter of King Ruggero. A stunning form of beauty said to have been given to the Kingdom of Sicily by God himself as a gift. She is only 15, but carries herself well enough in court so as to avoid embarrassment. Due to her exquisite beauty, she is often hankered after by many Dukes and Barons, and King Ruggero selects her suitors for her. She is confined to the torturous life of a medieval Princess, and her father treats her like how any other King in that time would have; as a political tool. And she absolutely detests her life, and often seeks a way out of it. Has married Sir Fallen, or more accurately Romano de Corleone.

The previous year was a busy one. Saphirra wanted to keep news of the King's death hidden to only us and the four 'guards' present. She told me she would handle everything but it would take her time. I did my part as Royal Historian and didn't mark his death just yet. So for a short period of time I could at last have a break. The Kingdom wasn't at war with anyone, and was allies with six other nations-The Republic of Genoa, the Kingdom of Hungary, the Byzantine Empire, the Papal States, the Crusader States and we even had a marriage alliance with the Kingdom of France. All was well and I had much time to work with.

I had a relatively peaceful and quiet period of time to reflect on my actions and the impact I had made in this world.

Did I make one?

Militarily the Kingdom of Sicily had expanded. It now encompasses double the settlements it had five years ago. The campaign to the south had been successful, Tunis, Al-Mahdiya and Tripoli now follow the King of Sicily's wishes. The island settlement of Cagliari was captured just a month ago by the now deceased King Ruggero. I had spent a year following the South Sicilian Army, and many days shaking the sands of the Saharan Desert off my armor. Perhaps I have learnt many things about life.

Financially we were also doing quite well. The Kingdom's coffers weren't anywhere close to being full, but it was a far cry from a decade ago, when people struggled to make ends meet. Our diplomats have successfully negotiated and opened trading routes for our sailors, merchant caravan groups and the occasional trade company. Naples didn't import silk from Constantinople half a year ago.

Politically...

Duke Guiskard had risen to Prince, but not yet King as he didn't know the current King is dead. He had also recently accepted one of his younger brothers into the Royal Family. His name was Ferrante d'Irno. Prince Simone made him the Duke of Tunis. He would make a powerful enemy of mine if not handled correctly.


During one of the many months I spent brooding, I realized that one of my ambitions could now be fulfilled. King Ruggero was dead, and no one would dare court Princess Maximilla without his permission. No one would be able to marry her unless she consented. And there was only one person she would consent to marry.


Our wedding was by no means a grandiose, extravagant affair. It was simple, and took place at the Chapel of Palermo where she had knighted me a year ago. Although we served only simple fare, many people still came to attend the wedding, more so to catch one last glimpse of her beautiful face before I took her for myself. Of course, that was what they thought was going to happen, and it never did. They still got to watch her at speeches, public celebrations and the like.

Prince Guiskard had no say in the matter, but I actually wanted to make amends with him. There was no use having a royal pain in the butt when it was time to focus our energies on ruling the Kingdom. It was there I suffered my first real scare, while simultaneously rebuilding my friendship with the Prince.

He had asked for the King to arrive so as to better bless us, but I declined for I wanted it to be a simple affair. He stood, numb, facing the floor when I told him so. I could tell he was thinking it through, trying to weed out any skeptical details, but in the end he acquiesced.

As the custom, Prince Simone bestowed on me the title of Duke of Naples. He also made me the Lord High Chancellor. No one was going to mess up the Kingdom I had painfully expanded.


I had approached him after the wedding, and sitting in a corner we talked about past deeds and friendships. I offered my hand to him, to bridge the gaps that had formed between us because of the Princess. She was now my beloved wife and he had nothing to fight for.

"Why should I trust you, Romano?"

"Well, you're not dead yet are you?"

That answer finally moved him to grasp my hand firmly and shake it. I confessed to him that he was never poisoned and I had no intention of killing him in the first place. He in turn revealed that he was glad he didn't kill me at Tunis, but he made it very clear that he could never forgive me for stealing the woman he had lusted after for so long. Our past struggles were history, but we were not friends. All was quiet for another few weeks, and the administrative side of me awoke to deal with all the paperwork and whatnot. Until two big events happened.

"Sir Fallen, look what I've got!" I heard the cheery voice of my wife, dropped my quill back into the ink pot and set down the report I was archiving.

I ran over to hug her, but I couldn't due to her round belly. I stifled a gasp. "Is that-"

"Yes, it is." Maximilla revealed. "It's a boy!"

We embraced lovingly, and my heart soared. I was going to be a father! I immediately added the new born to the family tree potrait I was drawing.


Excitement had never overcome me like it did that day. I left the archives untouched for one week. One whole week! Instead I spent time at the Keep taking care of her and feeding her nutritious foods. It was here I learned to appreciate the different cultures in the Kingdom. Even though majority of the population were catholic, the Muslims and other minorities worked hard and were treated fairly, especially in Naples, where I was the Duke.

Then it happened.

One day at a council meeting the subject of our next targets were raised. We had conquered all the nearby settlements that there was to conquer.

To the East lay the Byzantine Empire, our new allies. They held the important coastal town of Bari that was on our peninsular, and it perhaps is a show of strength. It was agreed that we would not violate the alliance unless the Byzantines did. However I noticed Prince Simone gritting his teeth at the decision. He would not let the matter rest so soon-Bari was an important settlement to us.


To the North, Italy was relatively peaceful, and we had no intentions of disturbing that status quo. The Republic of Genoa, the Holy Roman Empire, the Republic of Venice and the Papal States all held neighboring territories. The council was confident that no one would be audacious enough to attack the Papal States and risk excommunication, so given that the Papal States held Ancona and Rome, we were considered to be 'safe from any land attack from the North'.

To the West, the Iberian Peninsular was a mess. There were no less than four factions vying for power there, and the council knew very soon that the sands would be stained with blood. They declared that it would not have been wise to interfere.


But that was two weeks ago. The Moorish Caliphate has inched steadily towards our lands, and are one settlement away from bordering our southern settlements.


Their power is far greater than we could ever hope to match now or in the near future, so it was imperative we halted, delayed or at least redirected their advance. The peaceful Iberian Peninsular had to erupt in open war for us to take advantage of, and the council was keen for that to happen. And they would have their way.


Whether by extreme luck or skillful bartering, the Pope had agreed to call a crusade on Granada, close to the heart of the Moorish Caliphate. Soon the armies of Europe and Christendom will join them. Very soon.

The council was interracial, so there was some controversy involved when the matter of the Holy crusade was raised. As expected, the Muslim nobles objected to any and all participation in the crusade, but what was surprising was that the other Catholic nobles seemed to agree with them.

"It's not our war!"

"We don't have to fight the Moors! They aren't even at war with us!"

"So do you want to wait for them to strike the first blow?" What possessed me at that moment I do not know, but the words that tumbled from my mouth could hardly have been more surprising. The council stopped squabbling for a moment, digesting the notion. I took that time to act before the inevitable arguing would seize control of the council. A fire raged through me, the words I spoke next were not my own. I felt the same feeling I experienced in the Chapel of Palermo-the Holy Father shining brightly on me. I was never a spiritual man, but maybe, just maybe that would change.

"Men of Sicily. You all know we have been successful militarily in the past year." A spattering of applause went up for this speech. I continued boldly.

"Our Kingdom has enjoyed peace and prosperity for a long time!" Another smattering of applause.

"But we have enjoyed it for far too long." Silence. Dead silence greeted this statement.

"We relax and sit in our chambers, while our enemies make their moves! We sit here and remain stagnant, while our enemies seize more lands!" A gasp escaped from one of the nobility-they clearly did not expect such blatant insults.

"Our soldiers have grown fat and lazy on the butter from the Holy Roman Empire! The common man sleeps in beds of silk from the Byzantines! And in the end, who profits from all these trade? The people WHO USE THE MONEY WELL! AND IT MOST CERTAINLY ISN'T US!" I roared.

No one spoke. A rustling of papers could be heard in the room; eighty pairs of eyes were staring at me. Waiting.

"If we do not strike now, our enemies will take that time to prepare. You say this isn't our war. Do you want to wait until it is? You say this isn't our fight, but shall we stand idly by while the enemy consolidates his absolute power? Shall we wait until they crush us like the ants we are?"

"NO!" Someone stood up. A supporter. At last.

"THEN WE FIGHT!" A vociferous roar erupted, but I could still see some nobles looking totally unconvinced. I addressed them.

"My Muslim brothers. I know your concerns. You fear the slaughter of your kin." Many of them nodded, while the room quietened down to listen to me again. Prince Simone was staring at me, an odd expression in his eyes.

"But are they really your kin? You noble Muslims are able to live and eat together with Catholics like us. We do not denounce each other, do we? We live in harmony!" Some of them started to nod.

"But look at the Muslims to the West! You simply can't take five steps in Southern Iberia peacefully while wearing a cross on your tunic before someone insults you. Can we tolerate such affront? Are we men?" Another clamorous roar erupted, but some nobles still needed to be convinced.

"And finally...consider this: You live here. You eat here. And if God is willing, you will be buried here. When the time comes, will you fight for Sicily or fight against Her? I hope you make the right decisions."

Exhausted, I slumped to the ground to the boisterous cheers.

"He's been sent by God himself!" One of the more pious nobles proclaimed. "Let him lead the crusading army, and free our land of infidels!"

"ORDER! There will be order in the council chambers." Prince Simone took my place and announced. Amid the 'ssh' and 'hush, the Prince is speaking', Prince Simone helped me up. By the time my grogginess wore off, the room was silent, just like when I first spoke.

"That speech was marvelous, it stirred the depths of my heart." Prince Simone began. Some of the nobles voiced their agreement. "As King Ruggero cannot be present here today, the final decision lies with me."

The lull in the speech continued for five whole minutes. Not even a cockroach could have crawled unheard in the room.

"We'll join the call to arms."

"YES!!!!!" "Long Live God! Long Live the Kingdom!"

Prince Simone waved his hands, and announced one more, final surprise. "And Romano here shall be the one to lead it." No one disagreed-it was I who after all roused their hearts and won their minds. However, I silently wondered if this Prince had any hidden motives or agendas.

Preparations were being made at once, I was to join the crusade and depart immediately to Tunis to meet up with other forces there, and start a long and bloody conflict with the Moors.

It took another half-year to gather all the willing and able-bodied men, but in the end it was enough. We set out under the promise of more reinforcements to come.

But just how many would eventually return?

[Swaeft]

Character Background Information

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Sir Fallen/ Romano de Corleone: A young man from Palermo, Knighted at the Chapel of Palermo. He never knew his parents as they abandoned him when he was much younger. He was brought up by a veteran Knight who adopted him, and almost everything he knows about swordsmanship, fighting and the like was taught by his guardian, the Knight. He enjoys adventuring and freedom, and dislikes authority, especially nobles that rule unfairly with an iron fist. Has good knowledge about swordplay, but other than a wooden spear, he knows nothing about other weapons. Has grasped a slight amount of knowledge about farming after observing the Peasants work in their fields. Has also developed a reputation for defending the Peasantry from unreasonable people of higher status. Was recently adopted into the Royal Family and granted the title of Duke of Naples and has been promoted to Lord High Chancellor. He also serves as the Royal Historian of the Kingdom, recording down important events and battles that happen into the archives.

Saphirra: A teenager with youthful looks, but behind that face of innocence lies a deadly desire to rule the world as a queen, superseded only by her desire for pleasure. She leads a hitherto unheard of cult, and inherited her position as cult leader from her now deceased mother. Her cult believes in what Sir Fallen believes in-to save the Kingdom of Sicily, Sir Fallen must become King. She is willing to go to any lengths to ensure that happens, but may have her own motives as well...

Princess Maximilla: Daughter of King Ruggero. A stunning form of beauty said to have been given to the Kingdom of Sicily by God himself as a gift. She is only 15, but carries herself well enough in court so as to avoid embarrassment. Due to her exquisite beauty, she is often hankered after by many Dukes and Barons, and King Ruggero selects her suitors for her. She is confined to the torturous life of a medieval Princess, and her father treats her like how any other King in that time would have; as a political tool. And she absolutely detests her life, and often seeks a way out of it. Has married Sir Fallen, now known as Romano de Corleone, and has recently given birth to a child.

King Simone: Currently is Duke of Al-Mahdiya. The first nobleman in the Royal Family Fallen meets. His facade is now broken, and Sir Fallen realizes that this man is a true wolf in sheep's clothing, a man driven by his own greed and lust for power and success. He cares naught for the population of Sicily, much like the House of Bourbon's ruling style in the 1840s. He later agrees to stop plotting to attack Romano through shady means, but continues to be Romano’s mortal arch enemy in politics. Has recently been awarded the title of Saint by the local population for lowering taxes across the entire Kingdom and constructing useful buildings.

Landolfo the Saint: Duke of Syracuse. He owns Syracuse and all the outlying fiefs and hamlets around it. He is lauded for protecting Syracuse and its coasts from raiders and slaughtering them to the point that no more bandits dare set their sights on Syracuse, and this has prompted the population to call him a Saint, something approved of by King Simone.

I had to wait a year before the actual declaration of war was sent to the Moorish Caliphate. During that time I gathered all available men from Syracuse, Palermo and Tunis. I also had to get used to the feeling of being part of 'royalty'. I still remember the first time I met my bodyguards.

I was exiting a tavern at Palermo, when I saw thirty well armed and well armored knights standing outside. I had initially thought they were the King's men coming for revenge, so I ran back inside and hid behind the tavern keeper's bar table. When I was brave enough to emerge trembling from the bar table, I realized that those men were actually my bodyguards. Thankfully there weren't many people in the bar to witness my faux pas, but for the tavern keeper, it was definitely a novelty.

I also acquired new armor for myself. My breastplate was now much heavier, but from the sparring with my own men I recognized the additional protection it gave. Normally I would have flinched backwards at a slash to my chest, but with this armor only the hardest of thrusts and the most powerful of stabs would cause it to be penetrated. For the first time in my life, I actually felt confident about going into battle.

There was also the matter of getting me a new, more permanent steed. Although I had a special connection with Swaeft I would eventually need a tougher mount. I didn't name the new horse, but I did pause to admire its color before putting some light armor on him. He was very white, almost pale even. His brown eyes always reminded me of Swaeft's. He had a much thicker mane, but it wouldn't be a problem after fitting on some armor.

I even had time to 'ensure the continuity of my bloodline'! Maximilla had given birth to another baby, and this time it was a girl.

When it was finally discovered that King Ruggero was dead, it was kept hushed and news was confined within the royal court. An investigation committee was formed, but thanks to Saphirra's skills they never found or suspected a thing. It was only after the committee reported its findings to Prince Simone did he announce the death of the King to the public. The cause? Old age. He told me to record that down in the archives which I gleefully did.


Prince Simone wasted no time in ascending to the throne. I wondered if he really cared about the cause of his father's death.


He also found a new ally in court, and adopted him as a younger brother. The man's name was Landolfo, and he was considered a Saint in his hometown of Syracuse as he had constantly defended the town from bandits and the like. I do not know how many bandits he slayed, but I know for a fact since we left Syracuse no more bandit parties had dared come within a hundred miles of it. For this accolade, King Simone granted him the title 'Duke of Syracuse', relinquishing his hold on his hometown in exchange for another title.


His title of Saint was approved by the new King Simone as his first decree-something that would most certainly solidify their friendship. That could be dangerous for me.


However it seems that my trust in the new King Simone was not misplaced after all. Seconds before departing an envoy had come up to me, heavily guarded by a hundred men. He handed me a very important seal and a letter, which meant that I had the King's blessings. In the attached letter he wished me a safe journey and a successful conquest. I hoped that came from the bottom of his heart.


King Simone wasted no time consolidating his power on the throne. He quickly won over most of the nobles in the court with his eloquent speeches and subtle bribery. Thankfully I had some supporters in the court who relayed to me information of his dishonest acts, but just like the act of corruption committed by Captain Bartolomeo at Al-Mahdiya, there was nothing I could do, for I had no evidence of his misdeeds.

He also revolutionized the government, and introduced many changes, the most notable of them being the lowering of all taxes across the Kingdom, and the building of many trade structures. This was greeted with fervor by the local population, and many were already hailing him as another Saint.


So here I was in Tunis, marching an army across an endless sea of sand while he claimed credit and glory for the deeds he performed.


I spat in disgust. I had been tricked. I now knew why King Simone had sent me on this crusade-it was to get me out of his way. He had probably accumulated a vast sum of money and was now spending it on improving the Kingdom's living standards. The only thing he had to worry about was powerful opposition, removed by bribery and sending me to this desolate place. I had been tricked.

The march towards the Moorish lands was long and tiring, but at least we had adequate supplies from merchant trading ships that provided water, and the province of Tunis that regularly sent food to our army.
We could have covered so much more distance by sea, but the darned King Simone recalled the navy on the pretext of attacking notorious pirates along the coast of Naples. I had a sinking feeling he recalled the ships for his own benefit. The only positive we could take from this march was that we had no siege equipment to slow us down. However, that meant we needed to construct siege machinery whenever we decided to besiege a province.

When finally the settlement of Beleb El Anab entered our field of vision, the men let out a long and weary sigh. I let them rest for a week, before surrounded the settlement and besieging it. Our army was eager, ready to shed the blood of the many infidels who resided in the settlement after so many months of marching.

"Men, unpack the materials and get ready to construct the rams!" Our scouts had reported that only a general resided in this isolated settlement; his army had been recalled to Iberia to combat the threat of the crusades. This would be an easy battle. After this, I could finally push further West and-

"My lord! Where are the materials?" Someone I didn't recognize rode up to me, judging by his armor he was a knight.

"What do you mean? We unloaded the wooden trunks from the ships at Tunis! They were supposed to be at the rear of our convoy!"

"But...we've searched all over. It's not anywhere in this camp!" The knight protested. My brow furrowed in dismay. "Maybe we left them behind on the ships?" The knight suggested. He got an earful for his 'helpfulness'.

"And maybe the Saharan Sand Monster gobbled them up! Go find them!" I yelled. This couldn't be happening.

"But..."

"No Buts! Where on Earth are we going to find trees in this godforsaken desert? FIND ME THE WOOD!" My outburst convinced the knight to organize a search party and turn the camp upside down. I sighed heavily. This was a mess. I imagined the Moorish general laughing inside his settlement and reddened in anger. Where were those damned trunks?

After hours of fruitless searching, I called off the search. Our campaign had barely started, yet we could not assault a single settlement with a single company inside it because we didn't have the materials to build siege equipment. Now we would have to march all the way back to Tunis, write a letter explaining what had gone wrong, and perhaps even the men might desert the army to find a better commander!

NO! That would not happen. NEVER!

Then he arrived. His convoy of ships was first spotted in the morning, and they reached by midday. "The King is here! Take heart, the King is here!" I stiffened, my mortal enemy was here. I rode out of the camp with my personal bodyguards to meet him.

I held back an oncoming wave of irritation to greet him. Now I would have to explain this mess to him. "Hail, my King! You honor us with your presence here."

"Yes, I do. How are the army's preparations for assault?"

This was it. "We're preparing to attack the walls, my King." I replied. His answer caught me off guard.

"Really? Well how are you doing it without these?" I swore I saw him snicker behind his visor as he gestured to some companies of men behind him. I was glad my visor was shut, for my face became more crimson than blood. The men were pushing rams off the ships.

There. King Simone had humiliated me in front of his bodyguards and mine. I said nothing all the way back to the siege camp. The silence was deafening. Shame was written all over my face, and I was relieved no one would see it.

At the camp, the men had already gathered in front of the gate to welcome the King. "He's here! King Simone the Saint is here! Long live the King!" They chanted. It sickened me. I had truly underestimated the political power of King Simone. I should have killed him five years ago. I regretted.

He hailed them, and with a wave of his hand silenced the cheering. "We attack tomorrow at dawn!" Groans of despair wafted towards us. "Take a well deserved break now, for tomorrow we strike!" The men dispersed back to their tents, and as our bodyguards followed, King Simone nudged his horse towards me.

"I told you I'd never forgive you for what you did." He breathed into my ear, laughing madly as he galloped away.

"I should have killed you at Tunis back then." I hissed into empty air. I hustled towards my tent and lay down to rest. I vowed to lead from the front tomorrow morning. I wasn't about to let the King steal all the glory after almost a year of long marching.

But he did. I was awoken at night by the clash of steel on steel. It was almost pitch black, but as I exited my tent I saw torches being thrown around at the town. The attack had already begun.



"Damnit!" I cursed. "Where's my bodyguards?"

They came running to me. "My lord, the attack commenced half an hour ago. Where were you?"

"I was sleeping! Why didn't you tell me about the attack? Didn't the King say he would attack at dawn?"

"He changed his mind, my lord." A loud 'boom' resounded throughout the night sky, and I mounted my horse. My bodyguards did likewise.

"We're already late to the party. Lets ride!" I spurred my horse forwards, and made a beeline for the gate. It was already shattered by our rams. To my horror and dismay, I rode inside to noisy cheers. The fight was over, and the town was taken. I didn't even get to see the enemy commander fall.


"Long live the King!" Those chants again. I rode back to the camp, disconsolate. I had been tricked. Again.

The following morning we marched to counter a relief force sent by the Moors. They were unaware that the settlement had already fallen, so we were able to surprise them and engage them while they had split up.

The Second Battle of Beleb El Anab

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

VS AND

Together the army would have been a threat, but split apart they were much easier to handle. The first army led by a man named Attiyah had two companies of Peasants Crossbowmen, one company of Bedouin Infantry and one company of Nubian Spearmen. They would have been much more effective when coupled with their other army that consisted of two companies of Spear Militia and one company of Desert Archers. With the Spear Militia holding the fort, their ranged units could have inflicted many casualties among us. Perhaps captain Attiyah was leading a scouting force?

We formed up, the bulk of the army led me my on a hill West of the enemy's position. I was to lead them into battle while King Simone led an all-cavalry army to crush the reinforcements from a hill on the right.


My forces were raring to let themselves upon the heathens that opposed us, but I was supposed to wait for King Simone's signal before engaging. So my army waited. And waited. And waited.


The signal never came. When I finally rode to the crest of the hill I realized with anger that King Simone had already begun to engage the first wave of enemies, who were MY TARGET.


I could tell he wanted all the glory for himself, and our enemies were stupid enough to provide him with that glory. One company of Peasant Crossbowmen detached themselves from their initial formation and ran into range of King Simone's cavalry to fire. King Simone responded by veering off his original route and charging the crossbowmen.


Even from my position on the hill I could tell that the charge was effective. Almost all the crossbowmen were floored, and most did not get up again.


"Come on, move it! Get those spearmen before they get our cavalry!" I ordered my men. They began rushing downhill, but I knew they would never make it in time to support the King.

As it turned out, they didn't have to. King Simone was pathetically using his bodyguards as meat shields while he charged down a company of Spear Militia. All that was left of the company of peasant Crossbowmen were routing.


When finally his bodyguard unit was down to half its size, he withdrew. My army arrived just in time to crush the spearmen chasing him. Our cavalry formed up on a small hill to regroup for a charge, and it was there I met his company side by side. He didn't see me or didn't want to, and hastily led another charge downhill into the reinforcements arriving. It seemed he couldn't stand me charging with him.


My sword slashed this way and that as we engaged one of the reinforcing companies. The sun had started to rise already, and we were cooking in our own armor. It was imperative we finished the fight as quickly as possible. I let out a mighty roar, slashing towards the nearest enemy. He didn't even see the blow coming. Someone managed to stab me from behind with a spear, but it clanged off much to his shock. I turned around, and saw two militia hesitating.

"Fight me, you cowards! Don't you pigs have any guts? Or have our horses eaten them up?" I taunted, laughing at my armor's superiority over their mediocre weapons. This prompted them to charge at me, but before they even reached me someone yelled out that the enemy general had fallen.


They hesitated again, but it was for the last time as I spurred my mount onwards and thrust towards one of the spearmen's chest. He gurgled and his body spasm, then he was no more. The othe one tried to bash me with his shield, and he nearly succeeded in stunning me. I fell off my horse, and by virtue of luck the weight of my armor crushed him. I stabbed him a few times just to make sure, and when I pulled my bloody sword out of his chest the battle was won.

My men continued chasing down the routers.


It was to be another clear victory added to our burgeoning books of history.

I had initially wanted to release the prisoners, seeing that they were a poor relief force and were unaware that their objective was already taken. However, King Simone overruled me and sent back a note for ransom.

"But my King, these men are peasants! Their Caliph will never pay for rabble such as them!"

"So why should we give them back to him, free of charge? No, Romano, you will follow my lead this time. That is an order."

I panted heavily. This man was nuts. How could the people revere him and call him a saint? He was treating prisoners worse than the dogs at the Royal courts?

A day later, as expected, the Moorish government refused to ransom our paltry collection of prisoners. The men begged not to be executed, saying that they would never take up arms again, but King Simone had none of it.


We marched immediately, the sand still fresh with the blood from the gallows. I had to get away from King Simone, who had decided to stay behind at Beneb El Anab, probably to chase more women like he did at Tunis the first time round.

The Gods were not with us. As we approached a hill my scouts spotted a sizable Moorish army on the other side of the river bank. I grimly told my men to hold position and set up a defensive perimeter around the bridge. No one was going to get past.

Sitting there silently, I waited for their attack. How ironic that I was also indirectly defending King Simone by blocking the road to Beneb El Anab.


Until finally some good news arrived. King Simone was needed back at Syracuse where a force of Venetians had landed.


Finally I could get some peace. Finally I could rid myself of his shadow. But the darker shadow of war still looms above my head, above the army's head, and above the Kingdom of Sicily.

[Swaeft]

The New Year is fast approaching, and it is my duty to tell you now that there will be a poll for the MAARC this coming January, on the 1st. Please go there and read the AARs of those who have submitted-then vote for them when the time comes! WE NEED YOUR SUPPORT! A very big thank you for all those who intend to support the MAARC. There are some really good AARs there, do check them out!

I would like to wish all of you a Happy New Year in advance (I may not be able to use the computer on that day )

I had already reminded you guys about the MAARC a few posts back, but because I uploaded no less than 4 chapters from that period of time till now, I'm ing this to show it to you guys again.

Happy reading and good luck to all those in the MAARC! (Did I mention I'm in as well?)

On another note, the MAARC will have a poll commenced on or about January 1st. Remember to go there and vote for all those who deserve it! (Not me. Well, you know what I mean)

Edit: My 202th post that coincides with the 2002th view of this AAR! Swaeft! Sweet!

[Swaeft]

NO YOU WON'T! You won't touch me before my sword enter's your chest!

Really? We'll see about that...:sparta::sparta:

[Robin de Bodemloze]

Just caught up with the last few updates. Your workrate is plenty impressive I must say.

Tunis... t'is the wrong way to Granada. Look forward to seeing how you plough through Moorish territory the long way.

[Swaeft]

Just caught up with the last few updates. Your workrate is plenty impressive I must say.

Why thank you! I hope that's not all I'm lauded for though

Tunis... t'is the wrong way to Granada. Look forward to seeing how you plough through Moorish territory the long way.

You may be disappointed on this one...remember that our objective is to weaken to Moors, not weaken ourselves by committing to the crusade...

Sicily is not too common for AARs

I see what you mean now. I've gotta say I'm a little disappointed at the number of viewers (not the number of views, but actual viewers) but that's just a minor annoyance. There is also the question of choosing the right faction, it seems that some are just more 'pop' than others.

Well, I guess I'll have to live with that. When's the MAARC starting, by the way? Its already 1st of Jan here

I'd also like to thank YOU. Yes, I'm talking to YOU, the many faceless readers who have read through my humble story. Even though you don't register and read from the shadows, know that I thank you from the bottom of my heart, because any viewer is welcome here

To all those in the MAARC: Best of luck!

[Tigellinus]

MAARC has started mate! I've already voted!

[Swaeft]

Character Background Information

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Sir Fallen/ Romano de Corleone: A young man from Palermo, Knighted at the Chapel of Palermo. He never knew his parents as they abandoned him when he was much younger. He was brought up by a veteran Knight who adopted him, and almost everything he knows about swordsmanship, fighting and the like was taught by his guardian, the Knight. He enjoys adventuring and freedom, and dislikes authority, especially nobles that rule unfairly with an iron fist. Has good knowledge about swordplay, but other than a wooden spear, he knows nothing about other weapons. Has grasped a slight amount of knowledge about farming after observing the Peasants work in their fields. Has also developed a reputation for defending the Peasantry from unreasonable people of higher status. Was recently adopted into the Royal Family and granted the title of Duke of Naples and has been promoted to Lord High Chancellor. He also serves as the Royal Historian of the Kingdom, recording down important events and battles that happen into the archives.

The attack did not come. The Moorish army was recalled further to the West, and I sighed in relief. This would not be the last of them, though. I checked our supplies and found that we had enough food and water to last us for another seven years. I wondered if we needed that much time to succeed.

The message came just as we were about to move on.


Well that was something new for me. It seemed as if religion would prove to be a powerful tool in these times, I had barely fought any real battle!

"Who conquered it?" I asked. My guess was not very far off. The French had stormed through Aragonese lands and blitzed to Granada, proudly announcing their capture of the settlement to the whole world.


I felt irritated. Was God toying with me from above? King Simone had already gained much recognition back home for his projects, so the only way I could hope to compete with him was to be successful militarily. And yet before I had even conquered a single settlement the crusade was over. Rage burned deep inside me, and I made a decision.

"Go to King Simone and tell him we are going to continue or march against the Moorish Caliphate. We must take this chance to strike, to weaken them even further before withdrawing." I dismissed the messenger with a wave of my hand. "We march!" I hollered across to the whole army, and we plodded in the direction of Algiers.

It was not long before we sighted another Moorish army in the distance. They too were heading for Algiers. Amid the rolling hills of the desert we trudged forwards. At least there weren't any sandstorms or flash floods to deter us. "Forward!" I urged. Our army had to reach the Moors' before they entered the castle-that would make our task much harder. I recalled the disastrous siege of Tunis, the first ever siege I had participated in, that resulted in a huge loss of lives. I vowed to be different, to show King Simone that sound tactics and courage overpowers headlong charges and mindless ferocity.

Our armies met slightly after midday. We had arrived in time to prevent the larger Moorish army from reinforcing Algiers. It was time to get the other half of the job done.

The Battle of Algiers

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

VS

I had initially expected a straightforward fight, but when I saw the enemy General I knew we were in for a long battle.


I didn't care much for his name, it was his talents I admired. He certainly fit onto the shoes of a Lord High Marshall nicely, but one wonders what he was doing all the way here. Weren't Marshall's supposed to lead the majority of their army in the center of conflict? Or did the Moorish Caliph prioritize the war against our Kingdom so highly? It mattered little what the Caliph thought, what really mattered was the here and the now.

The enemy however, were not in an advantageous situation. We had split their army into two, with the main force on one end and the Moorish Marshall on the other. I therefore split my army into two as well. Anyone who could ride a horse and swing a sword followed me, while the rest would stay back to delay the main enemy army.

I hastened to face the Moorish Marshall, my cavalry with following closely. We were truly a sight to behold, armor shining gloriously in the midday Sun. Our Crusader Knights had under my instructions painted the Holy Cross on their shields, and they now brandished them confidently to face the Moorish Marshall. I could only begin to imagine what was going on in his mind, what fleeting thoughts and hopes he could be harboring.


His bodyguards' mail armor shone brightly too, but my mind was free of worries. God was with us, we would surely win. Our horses hooves thudded on the ground, and I felt a rhythm sink slowly into my head. Thump. Thump. Thump. The sweltering heat didn't favor either army, we needed to get this done quick. We quickened our pace and soon the faces of the bodyguards were visible.


It was then I ordered the charge. Our brave Crusaders valiantly rode forwards, and being the vanguard of our attack they clashed with the Moorish Marshall's bodyguards first. It was time to see how many hits these desert dogs would suffer before perishing.


I positioned my bodyguard unit exactly where the Moorish Marshall was minutes earlier, at the top of a hill, the Sun at my back. Then I waited. Two more companies of Mounted Sergeants joined the fray enthusiastically, and when the Marshall's focus began to waver I led the charge into the back of his company.


Our charge was swift, decisive and effective all at once. No amount of armor would protect our enemies from God's wrath, no amount of skill could be substituted for heretical faith. I managed to squeeze my mount into striking range of the enemy. I triumphantly raised my sword and with all the strength I could muster, slashed at the back of an enemy bodyguard.

My sword pinged off his battle armor. "What the?" He turned around, spittle flying out of his mouth. "That the best you can do?" Even as he looked at me he sliced to death of one the squires who had come to assist me. The squire's heart-wrenching scream seemed to echo between my ears. I ordered the Mounted Sergeants to retreat-this was not a fight they could handle. It was my bodyguard company and the Crusader Knights against the Marshall's company. My opponent raised his sword and thrust it towards me, and I barely managed to deflect the blow. I reeled from the strength of his attack and retreated a few paces. Immediately someone took my place. My adversary would have unleashed a torrent of insults at me had he had the time to do so.

The fight was not difficult, it was merely exhausting. The skill of emirs guarding the Marshall matched our own perfectly, so much that it took at least ten minutes for someone to fall. My shoulders ached with pain, and my hands were shaking from exhaustion, but I pressed onward. This Marshall would not be leaving this place. Actually he would. In body bags.

The battle had raged on for half an hour at least, and I had no idea what was going on on the other side of the battle. Had their main army been crushed?

The Marshall fought like a tiger, but his end was never in doubt. "Allah protect me!" He shouted.


His prayers were not answered, but he obeyed the call to Hell, and eternal damnation.


After he fell, his bodyguards stopped fighting. They raised their swords as one and plunged them into their chests. "You'll never take me!" One of them spat at me.

"Why would ? You're a waste of space anyway." At that, the surrounding men cheered and pounded their fists against their shields, a long and physically draining fight was over.


After resting for awhile I led my men back, only to see that my earlier assumption was right. The enemy army was in full flight, but my heavier armored men lacked the speed to chase them down. That was a job for us, which we gleefully did. Blood soon engulfed my sword, I did not know how many men I had hacked down.

I stopped and let the Crusader Knights satiate their blood thirst. Every infidel they killed was a redemption of their sins, and they gladly performed the gruesome deeds. "We've found Captain A'id!" The shout rang out for all to hear.

"Captain A'id requires Aid, men! Anyone of you willing to give it to him?" I yelled. Shaken by exhaustion as they were, some of the men stopped to laugh. "He's dead, my lord!" Someone hollered back.

"Well that's too bad then." I stated. Some of my bodyguards snickered.

Come on ladies, let's get this done." I spurred my horse onward and continued the chase. Only 4 escaped-our men were too tired to continue the chase.

With the job done, we settled down for the day. "Anyone wants meat for dinner?" I shouted. Some of the more vocal squires signaled their consent.

"Then you'll have to get it from the corpses!" I replied to mock jeers and groans. The men were happy with my rule.

"The live un's or the dead un's, my lord?" One of my bodyguards inquired. It was then I remembered we had prisoners to deal with.

The prisoners were quiet when they were brought in front of my army. "Well, I'm in a good mood tonight, so I guess I'll give you lot a quick death." I intoned. I watched with satisfaction as some of the prisoners began trembling in fear.

"My lord, please don't! We were forced-"

"I've been joking, Bob." Chuckles were heard at this statement. "Release them and set them free! Anyone who harms them will be punished according to military law!" My orders were carried out to the letter and the prisoners disappeared faster than specters in the night. One of them however looked back at me and shouted, "Remember my name, it is Djoch! I shall kill you the next time we meet, infidel!"

"Why that little-" One of my bodyguards arched his back as if to throw his sword. I stopped him. "Let him enjoy his life while he can. We'll never see him again anyway."

I was wrong.

We besieged our target, the castle of Algiers the very next day.


While pondering whether to wait for the enemy to sally forth or to seize the initiative and engage, a host of diplomatic reports reached me. I was about to stuff them into my haversack when something caught my eye.


"An alliance with the Republic of Novgorod? Who in the blazes signed that?"

The messenger replied. "King Simone did, my lord. He has married the Republic of Novgorod's daughter, a sign of friendship. Their wedding was held just two days ago."

"A sign of friendship? How does the King expect to help them when they're in trouble? They're hundreds of miles away!" I exclaimed. The messenger shrugged. "I'm just here to deliver the message, my lord."

No, this was not the time to trade banter with a messenger. Another Moorish host had been spotted in the distance and it was imperative we strike now. But before we could muster our forces another report came in-a small army had been spotted at our flanks, but they didn't appear hostile.

They had come to fight for us. Their Captain demanded a meeting with me.

"Firstly, Captain, let me tell you that I am amazed you would fight for us for a couple hundred of florins. Are all Muslims' loyalty as fickle as yours?"


The captain fixated his eyes on mine, and his dreadful mouth twisted to utter words I never expected to hear. "We are not mercenaries, your lordship, but we are trained warriors. Warriors who have become dismayed with the way our population have been treated." I listened as the captain started waving his arms about expressively.

"Our women are used as slaves, and our children taken from us. We are forced to suffer in the most incorrigible of living conditions while our emir leeches off our productivity! We cannot take this any longer, and are willing to crush the heads of those who once oppressed us. But to do that we need to serve under a lord with that exact purpose. We have identified you as one such lord. Will you accept our service?"

I took his hand, and gave him a bag of florins in the other. It was agreed.

The Second Battle of Algiers

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Our talk had caused us to be late, though. By the time the siege equipment was assembled and every man in his position, the reinforcing army had arrived at our rear. We would have to deal with them first.

VS AND

We first faced the walls of Algiers.


"Any man who dares come out here will be guaranteed a quick death!" I half-jested, half-yelled towards the settlement. Not one of the heathen dared poke their noses out. I smiled and turned my army around to meet the bigger threat.

I ordered my men to form a double line, with the mercenaries in front. They were the most bloodthirsty and would hold the line well. I waited for the Moorish's first move.

They sent their cavalry to attack us first. It was a wise tactical move, considering our apparent lack of archers or crossbowmen. But it was also foolishly risky, as we had more maneuverable cavalry which we sent in to combat the threat.


Their skirmishers were swiftly surrounded and dispatched. It had taken all of three minutes. Possibly dismayed by this, the Moorish captain ordered an all out assault on our position.


Wave after wave of Moorish soldiers charged towards our double line, but they did something very strange. They ran straight through our lines, as if racing each other to the settlement. Our bemused army was no less efficient than in a straight fight, and eradicated the stragglers. When our cavalry charged in from the side, it was effectively over.


It was a massacre. I felt sorry for the men, they were led by such an incompetent and impertinent commander, and he was responsible for their slaughter. I could hear a disconsolate yell from the walls of Algiers-the garrison must have seen the slaughter as well. My sword weaved this way and that as I sought to seek out the enemy commander. I swore he would pay for causing the deaths of so many.

It did not take me long to find him, for he was actually not partaking in the bloody melee. I cursed him, he was the exact sort of man I hated, cowardly, stupid and too stubborn to listen to reason. He noticed me charging to him and retaliated. I aimed a downward slash at his knee, but he blocked. I feinted to the right, then at the last moment flicked my wrist and stabbed his left arm. He cried out in pain and dropped his shield. Scenting victory, I thrust at his unprotected chest. He seemed to ignore the burning sensation in his left arm to parry my strike. It took a couple more slashes and stabs to take him out of the fight.


By then I was covered from head to toe with the blood of the fallen. I turned around to redirect my men to focus their attention on the castle.


Only one man had gotten away, and was running helter-skelter for the safety of the walls.


For too long the garrison had stood unperturbed inside the walls. "Men!" I began, raising my sword. "The enemies inside are heartless creatures. They sit upon the battlements and watch as their kin are slaughtered. We shall do their dead kinsmen a favor and sent them to Hell or worse! If you die by the hand of one, rest assured you will be avenged, this I swear upon my name as a Crusader!" A great cheer erupted from the ranks our my army, and once more I spurred them onward, leaving a messy, grisly sight behind.


The rams breached the gate as ordered, sending piles of wood tumbling to the ground, that in turn kicked up clouds of dust.


Our Crusader Knights charged forwards bravely yet again. These men were truly seeking forgiveness for their sins by slaying the enemy, something I respected immensely. They accompanied our mercenaries as the vanguard into the settlement.


Some resistance was met, but whatever enemy we fought could not hope to hold long against us. Perhaps it was because of this, or perhaps it was because they had seen the eradication of an entire army, but whatever the cause, they fought half-heartedly. The only resistance worthy of note was performed by a group of uncompromising, heroic, armored, hardened...Spear Militia.


When their captain fell their resolve was destroyed, and they routed towards the town square seeking some form of solace. They did not get it.


First upon the scene was the Crusader Knights. They cut to bits any enemy who opposed them. As a result, they were also the last unit to leave the scene.


We had scored another well planned and well deserved victory, weakening the Moorish Caliphate further.

I had the prisoners chained up and brought to the city square. Our men bickered about who should kill who first. There was quite a lot more prisoners this time, and I was tempted to execute or at least ransom the lot of them, but in the end I stuck to my virtues and released them, much to the ire of my army.


"My lord, you should have killed them." One of my bodyguards suggested.

"Nah, I bet they were forced to fight against us by their commanders. Besides, its not like they are going to immediately regroup and threaten us again."

SURPRISE! They did.


"Oh come on! Do those maggot headed, rotten intestine, spleen eating fools ever learn?" I spat out in disgust. They had marched all of five miles away, regrouped and came back to threaten us. "This would be their last mistake." I growled. I assembled the army and marched out to slaughter them.

The Third Battle of Algiers

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

VS

My army was exactly the same as it was half an hour ago. The number of prisoners was also exactly the same it was half an hour ago. The only difference was, in half an hour from now, one of these forces would be ground to dust.

As usual I aligned our mercenaries in front to vent their anger against their fellow kin, and to save the lives of brave Sicilians. The fierce masks the mercenaries wore frightened a few of the Sicilians anyway, and I doubted they would agree to fight side by side.


This battle was the easiest I fought. The battle lasted for twenty minutes. The highlight of the battle was my charge into the back of their line, ploughing past many many infidels.


Our frontline had fought ferociously enough to undermine their confidence, and when they started thinking twice about coming back to face us we finished them off with vengeance. I made sure I castrated their leader, captain Badr, who had instigated them to return to try their luck. Fate was not so easily tempted.


We rounded up our men and counted our losses. Peanuts compared to what the enemy suffered, but it could have all been avoided in the first place. I only had myself to blame. My soldiers looked at me expectantly, and this time I listened. "Kill them all, their yours to finish!" I shouted. My army descended on the prisoners with gusto, tearing them apart. It was a shocking display of violence.

The Muslim mercenaries in my army finally came to me and bowed. "You have done us a great service, your lordship. We thank you for allowing us to take our revenge. We shall leave now and bother you no more."

I released them from service, along with many of the remaining crusaders and mercenaries. They had had their fill of blood lust. It was time to ensure no riots would break our in Algiers.

"Lets see the Moors throw something at us now! One of the squires cried out.

I agreed.

[pandras82]

Hey

Great update. It is so hard to stay noble and chivalrous at the front line. And yes, the enemy is not grateful, they come back for retribution. Russian alliance? Might we see a great campaign in the endless russian countryside to help them against steppe nomads? That would be a great challenge, even greater with BGR

Happy New Year Sir and keep up the good work

[Swaeft]

Hey

Great update. It is so hard to stay noble and chivalrous at the front line. And yes, the enemy is not grateful, they come back for retribution. Russian alliance? Might we see a great campaign in the endless russian countryside to help them against steppe nomads? That would be a great challenge, even greater with BGR

Happy New Year Sir and keep up the good work

Unfortunately I do not have BGR, and it is already hard enough to find mercenaries to hire. I don't even have a full stack of troops at any one place So if there are enough men then yes I will launch a campaign. But priorities like home defense and the Moorish War comes first.

Happy New Year to all and remember to vote for the MAARC here!

[Paladin94610]

Great updates...Mr.Swaeft Fallen....

looks like pumping out chapters you had written ahead... I'm still 4 updates behind

BTW, I voted for you in the AARC. Good luck!! dude