Medieval - Blood of the Cross

by Kevin Ashman

  ‘Yes Sire,’ said the man and ran to the castle behind them.

  Najaar climbed the winding staircase of one of the small towers and exited onto the ramparts. His men were already there, each sat with their backs against the wall passing a goatskin water bag between them.

  ‘You did well, men,’ said Najaar, ‘but know that the worst is yet to come.’

  ‘We lost the outer palisade,’ said one.

  ‘It was but a temporary defence designed to hold him up,’ said Najaar, ‘and today his army is weaker by several hundred souls. It has not been a wasted day.’

  ----

  The expected follow up assault never materialised that day, nor the day after, but any thoughts of a reprieve were cut short on the third day, when the look-outs reported activity at the remains of the palisade.

  ‘Something’s happening,’ one called and every man on the ramparts stood to gaze across the open ground.

  At first the brow of the slope meant the actions of the Mamluks were hidden from their eyes but eventually they saw teams of horses dragging something up onto the plateau.

  ‘What are they?’ asked a page, peering over the battlements.

  ‘Siege engines,’ said a Knight, ‘and if I am not mistaken, they have built Mangonels.’

  ‘I count ten,’ said the page. ‘Is that bad?’

  The Knight glanced over at a comrade who returned the worried look in silence.

  ‘Think of the most destructive catapult you have seen, boy,’ said the Knight, ‘and then multiply its force by ten. A Mangonel is capable of sending rocks the size of a man through the walls of most castle defences. Ten of them will drop this wall within hours.’

  ----

  ‘Since when has Baibaars had Mangonels?’ snapped Sir Khoury half an hour later.

  ‘He must have picked up the knowledge during his campaign,’ said Najaar. ‘Perhaps he has captured engineers who make them for him.’

  ‘Wherever the source, this is not good,’ said Khoury. ‘Are they already set up?’

  ‘The bases are in place and the workmen construct them as we speak,’ said Najaar. ‘The component parts were already made and need only be fitted. I estimate they will be complete before the day is out.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘At least ten,’ said Najaar.

  ‘Even the stone of the outer wall will struggle against ten Mangonels,’ said Khoury. ‘We must do something to lessen their impact and we must do it tonight.’

  ‘Understood,’ said Najaar and they spent the next few hours making their plans.

  ----

  The sky was at its darkest when Khoury made his move. Twenty men slipped silently out of the gate and along the edge of the escarpment toward the fully assembled Mangonels. As they neared they dropped to their knees before crawling as close as they could to the campfires of the unsuspecting Mamluk guards.

  During battle the main role of the archers was to supply cover to the men at arms with their bows but during the battle itself they had a secondary role. When the use of arrows was impossible due to the close quarter battle, many were often called upon to despatch the enemy wounded with their knives and all archers were skilled with the smaller blade. It was this skill that was needed this night and finally the first two archers crawled forward to begin the silent assault.

  They approached the looming shape of the first Mangonel keeping low to the ground as they neared the guards’ fire. Two of the Mamluk were asleep, wrapped in their thawbs while the two others talked quietly, keeping themselves warm by the flames.

  The two archers made their way around the back of the siege engine and inch by inch, closed in on their enemy. Finally they were in range and with a nod of agreement, both silently ran the last few paces to reach the guards. At the last moment the Mamluks heard the approach and turned in confusion but it was too late, the blades sliced deep through their throats and their cries of alarm were silenced by hands across their mouths.

  The archers lowered their victims gently to the floor and stared into the darkness for any sign they had been seen but the night remained silent. Quickly they slit the throats of the two sleeping guards before signalling those behind them it was safe to continue. The remaining men crawled past to carry out their part in the sabotage and as they passed, they handed over leather water skins full of flammable oil similar to that used by the Mamluks earlier that day.

  Slowly the Mangonel guards were overcome and one by one the war machines were smeared with the oil. The Sergeant in charge of the assault started to hope they would complete their task unnoticed but it wasn’t to be and the night silence was torn apart as a guard raised the alarm. Down on the slopes the enemy camp burst into life as the Mamluks raced to arms. The Hospitaller Sergeant gave up any pretence at subterfuge and shouted toward his own command.

  ‘We are discovered,’ he shouted, ‘give the signal, the rest of you, set the fires.’

  A flaming arrow cut through the darkness high above and at each of the seven Mangonels already captured, the archers dipped prepared brands into the Mamluk fires before setting light to the oil sodden timbers of the catapults. The oil took a few moments to catch but when it did, the flames licked quickly up the ropes.

  ‘Make haste,’ roared the Sergeant to his men, ‘make sure they are well alight.’ The machines were now lit by the flames of their own fires but the Sergeant knew they could be easily extinguished. Below them, hundreds of men had started to run up the hill and the few defending archers re-strung their bows in anticipation.

  Within moments twenty arrows flew through the air but the darkness and the spread out nature of the counter attack meant few found their mark.

  ----

  ‘There’s the signal,’ shouted Khoury back at the outer wall, ‘open the gates.’

  The wooden doors swung inward and the drawbridge crashed down to span the spike filled ditch. Within seconds, a hundred mounted Knights led by Khoury himself thundered across to support the archers on the front line.

  ‘Make way,’ shouted Khoury and the archers stepped aside to allow the Knights through. Within moments the horses smashed into the disorganised Mamluks on the slopes and the Hospitallers slashed their swords through unprotected flesh and bone, taking advantage of the confusion and darkness.

  Khoury reigned in his horse and looked around the mayhem. The surprise was total but though the Knights’ domination caused havoc, he knew it would be only minutes before the slopes were swarming with Mamluk reinforcements.

  ‘Enough,’ he roared, ‘back to the outers.’ The Knights turned their horses and galloped back up the hill past the now blazing siege engines. The archers were already racing back to safety, their job done as behind them, the shouts of thousands of Mamluk warriors filled the night sky.

  Minutes later all the attackers raced across the ditch to safety.

  ‘Raise the drawbridge,’ shouted Khoury,’ every man to the ramparts. Squires secure the horses, Sergeants in arms, prepare to defend the walls.’

  Men ran everywhere to their stations, fully expecting a full assault in retribution but apart from a flurry of arrows, the attack never came. Najaar and Khoury stared across the open ground toward the blazing siege engines.

  ‘Seven Mangonels destroyed,’ said Najaar, removing his helmet, ‘a task well done, Brother.’

  ‘Three yet remain,’ said Khoury and we will surely hear their voice before this thing is done.’

  ‘We have done what we can,’ said Najaar, ‘the rest is in the hands of God.’

  ----

  ‘How did they manage this?’ demanded Baibaars, ‘where were the guards?’

  ‘Sire, there were four guards on each machine,’ said the commander. ‘They were taken by surprise.’

  ‘Four only?’ shouted Baibaars, ‘the importance of these machines warranted four hundred. Who is responsible for this?’

  The commander nodded to a man at the entrance and moments later, two guards dragged in a tethered warrior.


  ‘This is the man.’ said the commander.’ Shall I have him beaten?’

  ‘You will have him disembowelled,’ spat Baibaars, ‘along with the rest of his unit and you, commander, you will be staked out in the sun. This man failed in his duty but you failed my trust completely. Guards, take them away, I have no use for imbeciles.’

  The guards fell on the two men and dragged them away to their fate, as Baibaars turned to Hassam.

  ‘What damage has been caused?’ he asked.

  ‘We have lost seven Mangonels,’ said Hassam, ‘and another is damaged. That can be repaired but the others will take weeks.’

  ‘Weeks we do not have,’ said Baibaars. ‘Set the remainder upon their task at first light and do not stop until the outer wall is breached.’

  ‘Yes, Majesty,’ said Hassam and left the tent. As he climbed the slope to the Plateau, the first screams of the condemned men echoed through the night. It was to be the first of many.

  ----

  Chapter Ten

  The Castle of the King’s Constable

  Jennifer of Orange sat before a mirror in her room. Her handmaiden, Lucy, sat alongside her cradling a bowl of cold water as Jennifer bathed her split lip with a piece of clean linen.

  ‘My Lady,’ said Lucy, ‘it looks so painful, why do you put up with it?’

  ‘I have no choice,’ sighed Jennifer, turning her head to better see her blackened eye, ‘if I run, then my father will suffer.’

  ‘But you cannot go on like this,’ said Lucy. ‘He will surely kill you.’

  Jennifer sighed again and examined the bruising on her face.

  ‘You are probably right,’ she said. ‘What life is this to be no more than a piece of meat to a man I loathe?’

  ‘Then end it, My Lady,’ said Lucy. ‘Flee for England as quickly as possible and tell your father of this man’s treatment. Even if he hasn’t resolved his debts, he can petition the King for leniency. Anything but this, I implore you.’

  Jennifer turned to face her.

  ‘You are wise beyond your years, Lucy,’ she said, ‘but how can I find a berth aboard any ship in Acre. Sir John would know about it within hours and I would be dragged through the city in chains. He would take great pleasure in setting me to the stocks and I would die of shame.’

  ‘Then leave from another port,’ said Lucy. ‘There are many fishing villages along the coast. Flee from Acre in the night and seek passage to Cyprus. From there, you can make your way to Italy and then back to England.’

  ‘And how do you see two lone women undertaking such a treacherous trip, Lucy? We would last but hours on our own.’

  ‘There are many Mercenaries within Acre who have no allegiance to Sir John,’ said Lucy. ‘If you can find the money, we need escort as far as Cyprus only. There we can throw ourselves under protection of the church.’

  ‘Your plan may have merit,’ said Jennifer. ‘I have some funds of my own and my jewellery alone could pay for at least two protectors for a month but how do we find such men?’

  ‘Leave that to me, My Lady,’ said Lucy, ‘I will make discreet enquiries.’ She started to brush Jennifer’s hair as they talked about their plan, completely unaware that their conversation had been overheard by a servant outside of the door.

  The following morning, Jennifer woke in alarm as her bed chamber door flung open and two soldiers marched in, along with a priest.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she asked, ‘what are you doing in here? Get out at once.’

  ‘They are here at my command,’ said Sir John following them in. ‘Get dressed, wife, you are going on a trip.’

  ‘To where?’ demanded Jennifer, ‘I have agreed to no such arrangements.’

  ‘No, but I have,’ said Sir John. ‘You are going to Tripoli for a few months. With the Father’s help,’ he nodded toward the priest, ‘I have arranged chambers there for you in a secured compound. Unfortunately you will not be able to come and go as you please, as it is a convent and closed to the world but at least you will be safe.’

  ‘Safe from what?’ asked Jennifer.

  ‘From yourself,’ said Sir John, ‘get dressed, you leave within the hour.’

  ‘But, what about my maid?’ she asked.

  ‘She won’t be joining you,’ he said. ‘In fact, she won’t be joining you ever again.’ He turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘Wait,’ shouted Jennifer, ‘what do you mean? What have you done with her?’ She ran toward the door but the two soldiers stepped across to bar her way.

  ‘Let me past,’ she screamed but they did not move.

  ‘Better do as he says, My Lady,’ said the priest, ‘or you will be travelling as you are.’

  ----

  An hour later, Lady Jennifer of Orange sat alone in the back of a covered cart. An armed guard of eight mercenaries rode alongside and she peered out of the cover as the cart rumbled through the gates leaving the castle behind them. On the walls above she could see Sir John staring coldly down but any feelings toward him, good or bad were immediately swept aside as they turned a corner and the site of three bodies hanging from a gibbet swung into view. The first two men were obviously Mamluk and had signs around their necks proclaiming the word, ‘Assassin’ but the third made her gasp in shock and she had to stifle a scream of horror.

  Swinging gently in the wind was the naked and beaten body of Lucy and around her neck she also had a sign. ‘Traitor.’

  ----

  A few days later, Sir John stood on top of the castle walls once again, though this time he wasn’t sending a treacherous wife into captivity, but watching a relief fleet jostle for position in Acre’s harbour. Prince Edward, son of the King of England, Henry Winchester had arrived at last and with him, he had brought an army of a thousand men. Rumour had it that he also had at least two hundred Knights and Sir John knew that these alone would send messages of fear to the Mamluk hoard. He turned to one of the servant’s.

  ‘Is everything ready?’ he asked.

  ‘It is, Sire,’ said the man. ‘We have prepared a feast for the Knights in the main hall while the rest of the soldiers will be fed in their quarters. Prince Edward will not find us wanting.’

  ‘Good,’ said Sir John, ‘see that he doesn’t. With his sponsorship, I may yet find a route to the court of Henry when we return to England. Set out my equipment, I will greet him in full colours.’

  ‘Yes, Sire,’ said the servant and hurried away to prepare the polished armour. It had been a long time since Sir John had struck a blow against any enemy capable of fighting back, unless of course, you counted his wife.

  ----

  Longshanks stayed aboard the ship as the fleet unloaded. The cargo ships had already arrived and supplies were being carried on carts up to the castle. One of his Knights approached.

  ‘Sire, the ships with the horses wait their turn to dock. Do you want to wait?’

  ‘No, we have been too long without meaningful exercise,’ said Longshanks, ‘assemble the men, we will march through the city. Have the horses brought up when they arrive.’

  ‘Yes Sire.’ said the Knight and left to make the arrangements.

  An hour later, Edward Longshanks marched at the head of his Knights toward the castle. His heart swelled at the thought of following in Lionheart’s footsteps and though privately he dreamed of capturing Jerusalem, he knew that his army of only a thousand, even including two hundred Knights, were there mainly to aid Acre and without the support of the neighbouring countries, Jerusalem would remain but a dream.

  ----

  Jennifer of Orange walked beside her cart, taking the opportunity to exercise her legs. They had been travelling for three days and the incessant rocking of the cart made her feel sick.

  Four of the mounted Mercenaries rode alongside but the other four were somewhere over the horizon, checking the way forward was clear. Jennifer stumbled on, desperate to reach wherever it was she was being sent. Her initial anger had been replaced with a de
speration for civilisation, no matter what the restrictions. The cart drew to a halt and the driver stood on his seat to peer further into the distance.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked one of the soldiers, ‘why have you stopped?’

  ‘Something is wrong,’ said the driver and pointed to the horizon.

  Everyone followed his gaze and saw a lone rider coming slowly toward them, his body slumped across his saddle.

  ‘It’s Momani,’ said the soldier, referring to one of the horsemen who had ridden forward, ‘and he is wounded.’

  Two of the men spurred their horses but had not gone a hundred strides before they reined them in once more.

  ‘In the name of God,’ said one, ‘this cannot be.’ Before them the whole horizon seemed to come alive as untold numbers of Mamluk horsemen crested the hill. For a few moments, both guards just stared in astonishment, they had never seen such an army.

  ‘Come on,’ shouted the soldier to his comrade, ‘we have to get out of here.’

  ‘What about Momani?’ shouted the other rider.

  ‘Leave him, he is already dead.’

  Both soldiers turned and galloped back the way they had come. As they passed the wagon, they pulled up alongside the other two horsemen.

  ‘Turn your steed, Brother,’ shouted one, ‘and escape this place. A whole Mamluk Halqa rides this way, the others are already dead.’

  ‘What about her?’ asked one of the riders.

  ‘Leave her,’ came the answer, ‘we were paid to protect her from brigands, not the entire Islamic state.’

  ‘Wait,’ shouted Jennifer, ‘what’s happening? ‘You can’t leave me here?’

  ‘He is right, My Lady,’ said one of the horsemen, ‘the cart will slow us up. This way we may survive.’

  ‘Take me with you,’ she shouted, ‘I can ride behind you on your horse.’