East of Ashes

by Gideon Nieuwoudt

  "Aubré has another interesting theory," Lamech joked, feeling slightly light-headed from the adrenaline.

  Othniel laughed. "Yes, it's Harim," he conceded.

  Aubré merely smiled in victory.

  "So why do we get to go?" Lamech asked.

  "Because I was asked to go and I think I can trust you," he answered, at which Aubré snorted in mock indignation.

  "And because Aubré here is very useful at times like this," Othniel added teasingly.

  "Naturally," Aubré grunted.

  When they reached the centre of the camp, they were met by about 50 Crusaders, some of them tending the horses they saw being rounded up earlier while the rest stood in a circle.

  Lamech glanced at the Crusaders and was instantly impressed by what he saw. The group of men all had that confident but serious manner that comes from extensive experience, which helped fill Lamech with a little more confidence.

  It was also immediately apparent which one of them was Bohemond of Taranto.

  He had a theatrical air about him, which immediately put Lamech off. But there was no denying that he struck a very impressive figure: almost a head taller than anyone else around him, his muscular frame moved about with grace.

  Attention gravitated towards him by the sheer force of his presence - and the man clearly enjoyed basking in it.

  "Don't worry about that now," Othniel whispered into his ear, having noticed the look of dislike on Lamech's face. "He's even more useful than Aubré in times like these," he added wryly.

  Bohemond was talking quietly with some of the Crusaders around him, smiling and slapping one of them on the back. Noticing the new arrivals, he turned towards them and the other Crusaders immediately gathered around to hear his orders.

  Lamech was impressed by the way he transformed in a blink from a laughing, jovial man into a calculated commander.

  "Good morning men," he began.

  "As most of you no doubt have guessed by now, we're heading out to find where that Caracen garrison is encamped," he continued, looking each of them straight in the eye, one after the other, as he spoke. Not used to feeling intimidated, Lamech had to force himself to meet his gaze and not look away.

  "The rumours seem to be true: they are coming from Harim. Our job is to find out exactly where they camp on their way here to attack us. Now, normally a scouting mission will do just that: scout. But I'm of the mind to show this filth what we can do."

  His words sent a slight shiver of uneasiness through the group, but Bohemond had clearly anticipated it.

  "Yes, we'll be outnumbered, which is why I want you to follow my orders very carefully. If you don't, we'll be annihilated. If you do, we'll kill every last one of them and send a very powerful message to the other Caracen garrisons in the area."

  "The Caracen nations are a fractured bunch as it stands," he continued, "but it's no secret that Antioch has called for help, and as a result, there are Caracen commanders out there trying to rally together an army big enough to take us out. If we annihilate this garrison, the rest of them will think twice before coming to Antioch's aid. And we can - just make sure you follow my instructions to the letter."

  Bohemond paused to make sure they all got the message. He watched them carefully the men nodded their agreement. Had it not been for Othniel's forewarning, Lamech would have thought him boastful and walked off - refusing to die for another man's arrogance. But he decided to hear him out, and so also nodded with the rest.

  "Now," Bohemond continued, "as you know, the Caracens are very fond of one particular tactic: draw the enemy away from a defendable position with a small force and into an ambush where a second, larger force will attack on horseback."

  A shiver of anger went through the group at Bohemond's words, the soldiers intimately familiar with the devastating effects of this Caracen tactic.

  "Which is exactly what we're going to do with them," Bohemond said.

  "I've already sent out advance scouts to determine where the Caracens are likely to be," he continued and began drawing in the sand with a stick. "We've managed to narrow it down to somewhere in the Jabal Talat slopes," he said, indicating the area on his make-shift map, "So we'll send out a party on horseback into that area, while our reserve will wait here and here."

  Bohemond looked up from his map: "I need 10 volunteers."

  Othniel and Aubré's hands shot up immediately, followed by a number of other Crusaders. Lamech was the last volunteer to reluctantly raise his hand, bringing the group to ten.

  "Excellent," Bohemond beamed, and turned once more to his map. "You will proceed down this path here until you reach the slope here. From there you'll have to make your way up the slope cautiously until you make contact with the Caracens."

  He then looked at them with his steely light blue eyes, making Lamech flinch inwardly.

  "Now listen to me very carefully: Do not, I repeat, do not engage the enemy for longer than a few minutes. I want you to attack them, but flee shortly afterwards. Sting them hard enough to get them riled up and then retreat to our position. When you reach us, circle around this hilly outcrop here and then attack their flank," he said, pointing at the ground once more. "We'll attack their other sides and surround them."

  "Everyone clear?" he asked. When he was happy that they did, he concluded: "Good. Load your gear; we're heading out in 10 minutes."

  Lamech was impressed. This might just work, he thought to himself. It's risky and bold, but extremely calculated. Othniel slapped him on the back in silent agreement and then went to pick out a horse.

  -------

  "Over there, on the left," Lamech pointed out the movement he had noticed to Othniel. Shielding his eyes from the sun with his hands and squinting at the horizon, Othniel looked in the direction Lamech had pointed.

  "You're right, I see them," he answered and quickly issued orders: "Aubré, take four men and approach them from the left. Try to keep in the shadow of the slope as much as you can and then wait for us to make contact. Lamech and the rest of you, come with me."

  They gave Aubré and his men a few minutes to get into position and then began to ride in the open towards the Caracen camp. The idea was to get noticed after all, Lamech thought grimly as the first warning shouts were raised by the Caracen sentries.

  At the sound of their voices Othniel's group spurred their horses into a full gallop.

  Their battle-hardened horses heaved forwards, eager to reach the enemy, breathing heavily in anticipation. Lamech focussed his attention on matching the pace of the riders on either side of him to hold formation.

  Almost there, Lamech thought, and stole a glance to the slopes on their left where Aubré and his men were concealed. He hoped their timing wouldn't be off. He turned his attention back towards the fast approaching enemy camp and watched as the Caracen soldiers hurried to get into position.

  With a shout Aubré and his men charged down the side slope, heading straight for the enemy flank. Bewildered, the soldiers scurried around to face them too.

  Aubré's battle cry triggered the rage inside Lamech, which he had kept locked up for the past few weeks. But now, here in the imminent fury of battle, he allowed it to pour from him in a torrent and ignite with hellish violence.

  At the last moment, just before reaching the enemy lines, their group veered to the left, and joined forces with Aubré's group, forming an arrow head that aimed for the edge of the encampment.

  Lamech braced himself for the impact, willing his eyes to stay open.

  They connected with the first line of men with a thudding impact, trampling them underfoot and cleaving the edge of their line in two. Lamech screamed in fury and hacked and sliced at anything coming close to him as they continued pounding forward. To either side of him Crusaders were cutting their way through soldiers, lopping off arms and heads in a crimson display.

  Lamech was vaguely aware of two of the Crusaders crashing to the ground as their horses were cut down. He stole a glance their way, only to see t
hem disappearing beneath a rain of Caracen sword blows. He urged his horse forward, desperate to keep moving. To come to a standstill now would mean certain death.

  At last they broke through the edge of the camp and just kept riding, spurring their horses forward. They had to reach the others before the Caracens caught up to them.

  The world suddenly collapsed around him and he crashed to the ground in a billowing storm of dust. As if in slow motion, he saw the spear sticking out the side of his horse - and then Aubré charging towards him, holding out his arm. He grabbed it automatically and the force of the movement swung him through the air and landed him on the back of Aubré's horse.

  Time sped up again, pummelling Lamech with sensation. He shook his head to try and clear the ringing in his ears. By some miracle he still had his sword in his one hand. He desperately clung to Aubré's waist with his free arm.

  Aubré's horse was already sweating profusely and Lamech knew his extra weight was making matters worse. Behind them he could hear the enemy horses pursuing in a full gallop. I hope Bohemond is in place, he thought desperately as they entered a narrow gulley.

  An arrow whirred past his left ear and slammed into Aubré's back. The force of the impact momentarily unbalanced Aubré but he quickly righted and urged his horse forward.

  Lamech stole a quick glance over his shoulder. The Caracen pursuers were a lot closer than he had anticipated. The next arrow was going to strike him in the back and he wasn't so sure he could stay upright the way Aubré had.

  He involuntarily pulled closer to Aubré, as if to make himself a smaller target. With his cheek pressed against Aubré's back, he was alarmed to feel him easing the pace. Is he going to...

  Aubré slumped sideways. Even though their pace had slacked, they were still travelling at a blistering speed. Aubré's movement at that speed sent both of them tumbling to the ground while the horse sped away down the gulley.

  Lamech managed to roll free of Aubré without getting tangled. He was on his feet in a flash, sword still in hand. But even as he faced the oncoming Caracen soldiers he knew there was no way he could survive on foot against a cavalry charge.

  One Caracen soldier was leading the pack, a good couple of metres ahead of the others, charging relentlessly towards Lamech. It took him mere seconds to reach Lamech where he stood with raised sword to protect Aubré, who lay motionless on the ground.

  Out of options, Lamech braced for the inevitable impact. But it never came.

  Screaming in rage, Othniel suddenly appeared next to him on horseback, parrying the Caracen soldier's downwards stroke aimed at Lamech. Bewildered, the soldier swung around to face the new threat, sealing his own fate as Lamech took the gap and sprung to action.

  He viciously struck out at the horse's hind legs, half severing one of them. The horse neighed painfully as its legs buckled underneath it. Crashing to the ground, it pinned the soldier underneath it. Lamech was on him in a split second, his vision blurred as adrenaline and rage pumped through his veins. With one clean stroke he decapitated the soldier.

  Putting the screaming horse between him and the rest of the cavalry, he watched as Othniel engaged another soldier. As they fought it out on horseback, Lamech saw an enemy soldier riding towards Aubré. The burly Crusader had come to and was now trying to push himself up from the ground.

  Where are the others? Lamech thought desperately as he ran towards Aubré. The Caracen rider slowed down as he reached the fallen man, relishing the opportunity of an easy kill. As he circled Aubré, he turned his back to Lamech, not noticing the Crusader charging towards him.

  Lamech vaulted into the air, his raised sword gripped in both hands, and furiously slashed into the back of the soldier. Screaming in pain, the man dropped his own sword and clawed at his back.

  Lamech landed on the ground, spun around and thrust his sword into the soldier's stomach. He grabbed the dying rider's tunic with his left hand, pulled him from the horse and threw him to the ground. He paused only to spit in his face and then turned to see how Othniel was faring.

  Othniel was grappling with a soldier on the ground, having fallen off his horse while pulling his opponent down with him. Lamech dashed over to lend him a hand, but was thrown to the side as an arrow slammed into his left shoulder. He barely had time to register the wound before he had to roll out of the way to avoid being trampled by more Caracen riders.

  He struggled to get up and winced as the pain flared through his body. He clawed his way to the side of the gully, desperate to gain an elevated position as Caracen soldiers dismounted and began walking towards him, the now dead horse and their fallen comrades making it difficult to manoeuvre in the narrow space.

  As he propped himself up on one knee with his sword, two of the soldiers broke free from the group and began running towards him, eager to finish him off quickly. He straightened up, his left hand hanging limp at his side, and readied for the assault.

  To the right of the oncoming soldiers Lamech glimpsed Aubré being decapitated by the Caracens before the two attackers were on him.

  He parried the first blow and ducked under the second, grimacing as the pain in his shoulder almost made him fall backwards. But seeing Aubré's lifeless body slumping to the ground drove him to the edge of insanity and fury exploded through his mind.

  He screamed and drove his sword upward and through the one attacker's throat. He moved it to the side as he pulled it free, partially severing his head. Turning, Lamech faced the second soldier, who was staring at him with bulging eyes and an open mouth.

  Lamech swore at him and cut him down with a single stroke.

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Othniel engaging more dismounted Caracens while three others came running towards him. In the distance he could see more riders approaching fast.

  Where is Bohemond? Lamech's thoughts screamed at him, and then ran toward the soldiers. He met them in a blurring storm, cutting off the arm of the first, slicing the second across his chest and diving to the right to avoid the wild swing of the third. He wasn't quick enough though, and his thigh exploded with pain as the Caracen's sword cut him.

  He almost blacked out from the pain, but anger propelled him onwards and he plunged his sword through the stomach of the soldier standing over him. As the man dropped on top of him, Lamech screamed in agony as his arm was wrenched at a wrong angle, breaking with a loud pop.

  The darkness came crashing in from all sides now. His mind desperately clawed at consciousness, but he could feel his strength draining rapidly. The pain momentarily helped to fight back the writhing darkness, but it didn't last and he found himself slipping away.

  So this is it, he thought as he began easing into the darkness. Peace suddenly flooded him as time seemed to slow down. Dying violently was always going to be the way he would go out, he had thought. He welcomed it, wanted it.

  But then, just before losing consciousness, a soft voice whispered into his very being: Not yet, my son. Not yet.

  CHAPTER 9

  --- Avignon, January 1098 ---

  --- Joash and Leala ---

  The shore of the Rhône River that snaked through Avignon, was draped in thick clouds of white. Crystal flakes drifted lazily to the ground, further adding to the soft blanket.

  Two figures huddled in thick coats were strolling along the eastern shore, arms interlocked to ward off the chill.

  Joash kept his eyes on the ground, his mind swamped by pressing matters.

  Sensing his pensive mood, Leala sought to lighten it: "So you enjoy freezing to death?" she teased.

  Joash laughed nervously. If he could have talked to her in private where it wasn't so cold, he probably wouldn't have dragged her out in this weather. Still, the gentle snow had a calming effect.

  "I'll admit, I didn't think it would be this cold."

  "I'm just teasing - I actually love it when it's like this," Leala smiled.

  "Yes, but that's because you're a little strange," Joash shot back with a mischievous grin. />
  Leala's bright laughter rang out in the otherwise quiet morning, the sound of it filling Joash with warmth.

  Leala dropped her head on his shoulder as she leaned in to wrap her arms tightly against his as they continued walking on, lost in silent enjoyment of one another.

  "I wonder what happened to Lamech?" she said, finally breaking the silence. Joash stiffened at her words before he could stop himself, but quickly sought to hide his inner turmoil.

  "What do you mean?" he asked, and then cringed inside at his stupid question. Leala lifted her head and studied him for a second before answering.

  "He left so suddenly after the attack - almost as if he had something to hide," she finally answered. Joash frowned at her words and then came to an abrupt halt.