East of Ashes
Page 13
Upon riding into the camp, some of the soldiers immediately rushed towards him and helped him to the medical tent. Others tended to the horse, which was heaving deep, ragged breaths of air, its flanks saturated with foamy sweat.
It didn't take long for word to reach Bohemond that the messenger had returned, minus the mailbag. The news made him sad, for he knew how much the men looked forward to news from back home and how much of a motivating factor it would have been in the assault. For all their zeal and pious ambition, some of them still had wives and children back home.
He was careful not to show his disappointment in front of the troops though. It wouldn't serve to put them more on edge than they already were.
Instead he asked one of his closest advisors to investigate the matter and report back as soon as possible. The advisor knew without being told that his commander expected him to come back with solid information before the attack on Antioch commenced. He also knew that if it was possible to retrieve the mailbag, he had to do so without even asking. It wouldn't serve him to disappoint.
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From where he stood on the fortified walls of Antioch, Firuz had a clear view of the entire Crusader camp. Even though they were far away - out of catapult and arrow range - he could clearly make out what they were doing: packing up camp.
Rumours had been circulating all day within the city that the Crusaders were preparing to retreat, apparently because of the imminent arrival of the vast Caracen army. As a result the entire city was filled with a festive atmosphere as the inhabitants eagerly waited for the siege to be over.
Firuz knew better.
He couldn't help but marvel at the simplicity - and audacity - of Bohemond's plan. Anyone who had studied even a little of history should have expected a ruse, but the Antiochian defenders seemed desperate to believe the months of gruelling siege were about to finally come to an end.
They were badly mistaken, Firuz thought. Before sunrise they would wish they had treated him better.
Glancing at his younger brother standing next to him, Firuz was momentarily filled with doubt. It had taken considerable effort to convince his idealistic sibling of the necessity of treason. Of course, he hadn't put it that way. Instead he had convinced his brother that siding with the Crusaders would be the only way to escape inevitable death. The zeal of the army before them was simply too great for any other outcome to be likely, he had told him.
He was not sure that his brother would be able to see things through though. He had agreed to follow his plan - even though Firuz hadn't told him exactly what would be required - but looking at him now he could see the anticipation and fear was getting to him. He hoped his brother could keep it together well enough not to alert anyone. And yet, he couldn't blame him.
It was true that he longed to take revenge against the city's commander for treating him so unfairly, but he also knew the Crusaders would show no mercy to the city's inhabitants. He struggled to picture the horrors that awaited the city clearly, but the little he could imagine was frightfully unsettling.
Doubt gnawed at him. Did the city really deserve what was about to happen to it? Did he really want to be the instrument of its fall? No, he didn't, but it wasn't his fault.
He dismissed his doubts forcefully. The governor of Antioch, Yaghi Siyan, shouldn't have confiscated all his wealth and possessions. It was an utterly disproportionate punishment to his crime.
Yes, he did steal coins from the city coffers over the years. Being a tax collector lent itself to that kind of crime. But not everything he owned had come through fraud - and he certainly didn't deserve to be treated the way he was by Yaghi Siyan.
He had been publicly humiliated, flogged and finally stripped of all his possessions. Yaghi Siyan must have felt guilty because after all of that he had sought to make the punishment less severe by giving him command of one of the watchtowers on the wall.
Yaghi Siyan must have thought he would be grateful to be given some semblance of honour again, but Firuz only felt bitterness. Yaghi Siyan had treated him unfairly but then made an even bigger mistake.
It was an act that would cost him dearly.
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By Lamech's reckoning there was about an hour left before dawn. He was part of a small group of soldiers who were huddled together in front of the traitor's watchtower. The largest part of the army was concentrated in front of the St. George gate, with the rest placed a few hundred meters behind them - ready to reinforce wherever they were needed.
Looking to his left and right, he could barely make out the pockets of soldiers as they huddled in their positions in front of the gate. Their deathly silence further enhanced their ghostlike appearance.
Lamech was as nervous as could be. If the princes hadn't issued strict orders not to make a sound, he would probably have been chatting to Othniel to take his mind off things. But he didn't fancy being executed on the spot for breaking the silence.
To keep his shield from rattling against his armour, he had momentarily placed it on the ground behind him. His hands tremored slightly from the anticipation and he didn't trust himself to hold the shield tightly without making a sound.
"Oh Lord, I'm afraid," Lamech prayed without thinking. He realised with a shock what he was doing, but for some reason he didn't want to stop. So he closed his eyes and continued, every fibre of his being focussed on the quiet words in his mind.
"It's been a very long time since I've felt anything but rage. But these last few months I've begun to rediscover a range of emotions that I had thought long gone. Fear is one of them - fear of dying. And that's as startling to me as anything."
"I guess what I'm trying to say, Lord, is that I no longer wish to die - at least not like this. I know this is the first time I've spoken to You like this, so forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but I want to ask that You'll protect me today. Please bring me through this safely."
As the last quiet words lost form in his mind, what felt like a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Lamech opened his eyes and looked around, but there was nobody there. Huddled next to him, Othniel's eyes were also closed, no doubt praying himself.
The sensation was very brief, but somehow Lamech knew what it had been. The realisation sent shivers through him, but he also experienced immense peace. The anticipation was still there, but it no longer felt like his heart was being clenched in an iron grip.
He looked up at the walls of Antioch as the sun began to stain the edges of the mountain with crimson. He had known the previous morning that he was standing on the edge of something extraordinary. In what way, he was still not entirely sure. But he instinctively knew that after this day, he would never be the same again.
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Firuz was still standing on the wall just outside of the tower, his brother at his side. The moment the dawn began, he sprang into action. He beckoned his brother to follow him and began walking to the tower where the rest of his team was sleeping.
Right now there were five of them snoring away in drunken stupors. Normally they would have been keeping extremely vigilant watch over the Crusader camp, always expecting a dawn attack. But as their commander, Firuz had told them to celebrate as much as they had wanted.
Firuz positioned himself next to one of the best of his soldiers and pointed his brother to one of the others. His brother was trembling, his eyes glistening in the faint light, but he obeyed. For a moment Firuz was filled with doubt again, but then pushed it away. It's too late to turn away now, he thought grimly.
He looked down at the snoring soldier, then took out his knife and slit his throat in one quick move. The man's eyes popped open in terror and he clawed at his gurgling throat. But his death throes went unobserved as Firuz promptly moved on to the next soldier.
After finishing off the third soldier, he turned around and saw his brother standing, waiting for him, his eyes now clearly filled with tears. In his hand he held his knife, glistening red as gurgling sounds slowly died down behind him.
/> Firuz walked over to him, gave his shoulder a squeeze and then went to check whether the soldiers were indeed dead. Satisfied that none of them would ever move again, he lifted the coverings off a crate in the corner and took out a long coil of rope that he had hidden there earlier.
Despite the shock that he must have been in, his brother had already taken his place at the tower door, looking for signs that their treasonous act had been noticed by the others. After a few moments he turned around and nodded to Firuz.
Firuz leaped into motion and walked out onto the wall. He tied the rope around a sturdy flagpole and then threw the rest over the edge.
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Lamech had watched the Caracen soldier securing the rope to the wall, wondering what could drive a man to commit treason. Surely he must know what will happen to him? Whatever his reasons, Lamech hoped they were good ones.
The moment the soldier dropped the rope over the wall, Lamech and the rest of the advance party began moving. Each of them grabbed part of the ladder and in unison they ran towards the wall.
Unbeknownst to them, in the small bushes behind them a shield lay forgotten.
They had to move quickly because they were inevitably making a noise now. Keeping absolutely quiet wasn't a priority anymore. Instead the key was to get onto that wall, clear the ramparts and open the gate before the majority of the Caracen army could mobilise.
Lamech and Othniel were in the front of their column. As they ran towards the wall they were the most exposed. Their job was to secure the ladder to the rope and, once it had been pulled up, to then anchor it in the ground while the rest climbed up.
Reaching the wall they grabbed the rope, quickly tied it to the ladder and gave the rope a tug. Immediately the Antiochian traitor began pulling it up. When finished, Lamech and Othniel grabbed the sides of the ladder and held on tightly as the others scrambled up.
In their nervous haste, the Crusaders didn't give each other enough spacing and the ladder was quickly overloaded. Looking up Lamech could see the ladder shaking violently with the soldiers' movement.
Before he could hiss a word of warning though, the ladder toppled. To their credit, the Crusaders didn't scream as they plummeted to their deaths. Lamech closed his eyes involuntarily as they crashed to the ground in a broken pile.
That would wake the Caracens up, Lamech thought and dashed to grab the ladder. Othniel clearly had the same thought as he was at Lamech's side in an instant and together they shook the ladder free from the dead bodies and lifted it up against the wall. We'll mourn the dead later, Lamech thought, as they strained to get the heavy ladder in place.
The moment the ladder was propped up again, one of the remaining soldiers began climbing up. Lamech didn't wait for the others but began following him the moment he had cleared the bottom ranks. Four soldiers grabbed the bottom of the ladder and held it steady as they climbed.
Above him Lamech could hear commotion as Caracen soldiers ran towards them. Fortunately the alarm bells hadn't rung yet which meant they still had time, but only just.
The soldier above him disappeared over the wall. In moments Lamech reached the top, just in time to see the Crusader being cut down by a Caracen defender, who turned around and began shouting for help. Lamech climbed onto the edge of the wall and flung himself at the soldier, bearing him to the ground. He rolled onto his feet and drove his sword through the soldier's belly.
Reaching for his shield on his back, it was only then that he realised it was not there. He swore loudly and then had to step back to parry the blow from another defender. Without his shield he had to move twice as quickly to use his sword as both a defensive and offensive tool, but he managed to get the upper hand over his opponent. As he dispatched him, he could see a column of soldiers charging towards them from the other tower.
Behind him, Othniel and two other soldiers had already cleared the ladder and took their places next to him. Together they braced to keep the Caracens away from the ladder as the rest of the Crusader party climbed over the wall and dashed towards the gate.
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Things were not going well for Firuz. After pulling up the ladder, he and his brother had dashed back to the tower, waiting for the inevitable alarm to sound. But then the Crusaders had overloaded the ladder, causing it to crash to the ground with a resounding noise.
There was nothing else they could do but to rush back to the rope and help pull the ladder back up again. By the time the ladder was secured, he could hear some of the city's defenders calling out to each other and rushing to this part of the wall.
He couldn't very well stay where he was though, as only Bohemond knew him to be a friend to the Crusaders. The rest of them would cut him and his brother to pieces before he had time to explain.
He had to find some place for them to hide.
Grabbing his brother by the arm, he ran back to the tower. Where could they hide? Should they play dead and wait for it to all be over? Although cowardly, that would probably be the best.
"We have to play dead!" he shouted at his brother, frantically looking for the best place.
"Help me move these bodies away from the wall! We can hide behind them."
He grabbed one of the soldiers by the leg and started heaving at the dead weight. After a few moments of struggling alone, he stopped and turned around. His brother was staring at him with horror in his eyes.
"Come on! Help me or we're dead!"
His brother didn't say anything, but slowly started backing away from him. Firuz gaped at him - he was heading back towards where the Crusaders were piling over the wall. Already he could hear them fighting furiously. Looking over his brother's shoulder he could see four soldiers holding off a column of city defenders while the rest headed their way.
"No!" he screamed as his brother turned around and fled, straight into the oncoming Crusaders. Thinking he was attacking them, the Crusaders didn't even stop but simply cut him to pieces and continued onwards.
Firuz fell to his knees, sobbing. He looked up as the first Crusader reached him. In the man's eyes a mad fire was burning, bloodlust etched in his face. The soldier lifted his sword up and swung it down in one powerful stroke.
Firuz registered an infinitely brief flash of pain - and then darkness crushed him.
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Lamech ducked as an enemy sword whirled over his head. It was getting increasingly difficult to fight without a shield, requiring him to sidestep, duck and roll to miss blows that he would otherwise have easily blocked with his shield. The effort was tiring him very quickly and he could feel his concentration waning.
The only thing counting in his favour was that the number of enemy combatants that he had to face was becoming less, thanks to the focus of the fight moving to the gate. Realising what the Crusaders were up to, the Caracen forces had made for the gates where the fighting had quickly erupted into a frenzy.
Crusaders were still pouring over the wall though, compelling the city's defenders to head their way too. The walkway on the wall was very narrow; allowing a small number of Crusaders to take up position next to where their comrades were pouring over the wall and keep the Caracens at bay.
The two soldiers who had helped Lamech and Othniel were down - one killed and the other in the foetal position, clutching a stump of an arm where his hand had been moments before. Othniel was still standing, while three more soldiers had taken their fallen friends' places.
Lamech was fighting desperately to not end up like the two on the ground, but he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.
Behind him a cheer suddenly went up near the gate, followed by a grinding noise as the heavy doors slowly swung open. Good news, Lamech thought as he parried a blow and struck the enemy soldier with his fist, crushing his nose.
And then the air was filled with a thundering sound, and the ground trembled as the remaining Crusader cavalry charged for the gate.
While he was engaging a beast of a soldier with a huge shield and spear, Lamec
h could see the rest of the Caracen troops behind the man forego attacking them and heading to the gate instead. They were desperate to close the gate before the cavalry got there.
Focus! Lamech shouted at himself as his massive opponent took a quick step backwards to balance before striking. Lamech instantly recognised the danger and watched his opponent's shoulders to see where the strike would be aimed.
For I know the plans I have for you...
The voice spoke from deep within his being, but Lamech barely had time to register it when the enemy soldier stabbed at his chest with a blurring spear. Lamech almost landed on his back from the sudden backwards whiplash to get out of the way.
... to give you a hope...