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Authors: Gideon Nieuwoudt

East of Ashes (21 page)

BOOK: East of Ashes
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Time had finally run out.

 

"So here we are, all dressed up," Lamech commented dryly. The others merely smiled at his words.

 

"We won't have to wait much longer," Othniel replied. "They'll issue orders soon."

 

"Do we have to wait for that?" Lamech asked. "Can't we volunteer again?"

 

The others grinned.

 

"Quite right. Why wait?" Othniel answered.

 

At his words the others quickly gulped down their breakfast and together they all set off to Bohemond's part of the camp. If there was going to be any action taking place today, he would no doubt be smack in the middle of it.

 

 

 

-------

 

 

 

On the dusty road between St Simeon and Antioch, a horse was galloping at full blast. Its rider was huddled close to the horse's back, desperately trying to minimise the wind resistance, helping the horse gain more speed, and reducing his size as a target for the Caracen archers who were pursuing him on horseback.

 

Why me!
His thoughts screamed for the hundredth time. He was nobody, just a simple messenger with a bag of mail for the Crusaders. But his pursuers were chasing him down with single-minded ruthlessness.

 

The only thing he c
ould
think of
wa
s that the Caracens were hoping to glean some intelligence from the mail. In which case he
’ll
probably have to protect it, he thought in panic.

 

A sharp pain exploded in his ear. He caught a glimpse of an arrow as it slammed into the side of the road.

 

That was way too close
, he grimaced through the pain.

 

About a hundred metres further on the road made a turn to the left. On the turn, a huge boulder obscured the view of the rest of the road. That's the place, he thought, as another arrow narrowly missed his shoulder.

 

Don't stand up, he ordered himself, his hand grasping the bag tightly.

 

The moment he rounded the bend and was briefly out of sight, he flung the bag as hard as he could to the side and watched as it landed in a puff of dust behind the boulder.
Anyone not looking for it won't see it lying there amid the rocks and bushes
, he thought.

 

Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the road, feeling the horse gain speed thanks to its lighter load.
See if you can catch me now you heathens
, he thought angrily and spurred his horse on even more, driving it to the limit.

 

 

 

-------

 

 

 

Whatever they might have thought before, Lamech realised the moment he saw Bohemond that it would be no easy task capturing Antioch, despite having an inside man.

 

Bohemond was standing at the edge of the camp, as close as he could get to the city walls without being hit by an archer or a catapult.

 

He was staring at the city walls. His eyes seemed to be trained on one specific place, though from Lamech's position it was unclear what it was. A number of soldiers were dotting the wall - maybe he was looking at them?

 

Whatever it was, it had Bohemond's undivided attention.

 

From where Lamech and his friends were getting their marching orders from one of Bohemond's adjutants, he could see the Crusader prince was worried by the slightly forward hunch of his shoulders.

 

For all the man's military brilliance, it was still a massively dangerous undertaking that they were about to embark on and their commander was clearly feeling the pressure.

 

"We'll attack just before dawn," the adjutant told them. Lamech was only half listening. Othniel, who was standing next to him,
c
ould fill him in later.

 

"Our army will pack up camp and march tonight, tricking the Caracens into believing we've given up. In the middle of the night, we'll turn around and march back quietly, taking in our predetermined positions in front of the walls. Just before dawn our man inside will lower a rope over the wall. We'll attach a ladder to this rope and he'll pull it up. A few men will then climb up the wall, secure the tower on that part of the wall and open the gate for the rest of us."

 

The adjutant then turned and looked at Lamech and Othniel. "Bohemond specifically asked for the two of you to be part of that team," he concluded.

 

That got Lamech's attention. He looked at the soldier questioningly.

 

"You must have made a good impression at Harim," the adjutant shrugged.

 

"Fine," Lamech answered, but it was everything but. He might not have valued his life much a year ago, but in these last few months a desire to live had been kindled in his inner being and the small flame was getting stronger with each passing week.

 

It was s
trange that in the midst of so much death, he had begun to value life again. The mere realisation of this brought hope with it. He felt hopeful that life might have meaning after all and desire
d
to spend the remainder of his days looking for it.

 

But as he and Othniel walked back to their team to beg
in
their preparation for the evening's attack, he was plagued by a very dark thought.

 

What if he didn't survive the night?

 

 

 

-------

 

 

 

The messenger arrived at the Crusader camp - wounded, but alive. An arrow had lodged itself in his thigh and another had cut deeply into his arm, but he was in much better condition than he had any right to, considering what he had faced.

 

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.

 

 

 

-------

 

 

 

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 w
ould
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 await
ed
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 coin
s
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.

 

 

 

-------

 

 

 

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.

BOOK: East of Ashes
5.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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