The Sands of Blood - Chapter Two: Acre

[Kalnia]

Leinad had sped past moments before the Saracens had encircled the group, dumped Giuseppe rather unelegantly into the midst of his allies and sped off. Not one of the saracens followed him, instead pursuing his supposed retreat by insults and shouted taunts. It was a blessing that they had not followed him, but these men were tired and travel-weary, Leinad thought as he circled wide, and prefered to focus on the non-moving party then chase a solitary horseman for another horizon or two.

Gripping his oaken spear tight in his mail and leather covered hand, the sergeant openly laughed as he slammed his heels back lightly and held on tight onto the stirrupless saddle and horse's underbelly. Racing forward onto the saracens, the distance dissapeared in a flurry of dust and hooves and Leinad's savagely scarred face lit up in a grin that looked almost friendly. Aiming the thick bladed steel at the end of the staff at the first saracen's shoulder. The steel glanced off the mail but the force jarred the rider to lie flat on the back of his saddle, one of his feet coming out of the stirrups and hands yanking on the horse's reigns so that the rider fell witht the sudden rearing of the horse. The spear was past the falling rider and stuck fast in the belly of a rider armoured only in thick cloth. Blood welled at his mouth and Leinad's short arming sword was slashing left and right in lithe movements that hammered into mail-collars and helmets, aiming at the rider's eyes that came within the range.

Atop the added height and a head above the smaller Saracen men and their smaller mounts, Leinad could easily aim at the eyes and faces. He wasnt trying to kill, but even a helmeted man would back off before he lost his eyes and the chaos he was causing to the few horseman that had stopped presented the stationary allies to take a horseman or two out with a well timed thrust or swing.

 

[Corndawg]

Corey jabbed at any Saracens that tried to close in on the group. He scratched one mans horse, but it didn't seem to notice. One of the Saracens approached Sir Joseph, who was busy fending off another, and Corey quickly stabbed at him. His spear collided with the Saracen's armor. The man was wearing what looked like an incomplete or torn coat of chainmail and some leather. Corey's spear hit the leather and it went through all the way to the other side, coming out the Saracen's back. Corey tried to pull his spear back, but it was stuck on the leather. His spear wasn't made to pierce backwards, so he let go and drew his falchion. He took out his shield as well.

"We can do this, these men are fools."

 

[Úlfheðinn]

Vilogt watched as three of the Saracens fell to his new found comrades. Fortunate it was indeed to find himself amongst a group of soldiers, the other brothers would have been far less useful in similar circumstances.

Looking up he could see the grim faced sergeant had managed to engage a couple of the Saracen riders. Silently, muttering a prayer he ran towards them. The warrior was fighting ferociously, striking high towards his foe, but regardless he was still a man outnumbered.

Shouting, he came within range of one of the bandits, who having just avoided the swing of Leinad, was unprepared. There was a loud thud as the cudgel caught the man in the back, tumbling forward slightly he fell off his horse. A stream of curses erupted from him, vaguely Vilgot could understand it. Smiling he gestured with his club at the man. “You may yet leave, we have no quarrel with you.” Doubtlessly, his Arabic was rusty but perhaps the general point would be conveyed. The roar of the bandit as he charged convinced Vilgot this was not the case, he drew a deep breath as the swings of the sword rushed passed his head. Stepping backward, he continued avoid the blows of his now raging foe, it appeared as if he was almost reluctant to strike. Suddenly, the footwork of the unassuming scholar appeared to falter and he reeled backwards, regaining his balance only at the last moment.    With a cruel smile gracing his face the Saracen raised the his curved scimitar above his head with bow hands, prepared to deliver the final blow.

A strange event unfolded as the sword sped downwards towards its target. Perhaps, stumbling anew, Vilgot lurched forward and the moved towards the right. The blade of the sword passing him by the most minuscule of distances. Stepping in, he swung his cudgel striking the now surprised man in the temple. The sound of bone breaking followed, as the bandit fell limply to the ground. 

If it was skill or simply the favor of the divine that had aided the scholar was not apparent.

 

[RalliX]

Stabbing into the skull of a horse with his spear, Joseph made the horse reel back, and land on top of it's rider, preventing him from moving. Joseph looked over to his left in time to watch the monk kill a Saracen with a deft counter-blow.
"So the Brother knows how to crack some pates!" He shouted aloud. Joseph walked over to the downed horseman, and drew his dagger. His enemy still fighting back with desperate cuts from his scimitar, Joseph blocked a low cut with his shield, knocking back the man's sword, Joseph stomped his enemy's forearm down with an iron boot, and held it there. The knight held his dagger close to the Saracen's throat, as the only two remaining enemies chased their defaced sergeant.

"I have a prisoner!" Joseph yelled to the others.

 

[Kalnia]

Taking one of the remaining two attackers under the armpit and shoving his short iron sword hard into the tangle of arteries under his ribs, Leinad lost the blade as the man fell and saw swayed back in his saddle just in time to avoid the half hearted scimitar blow. The last remaining enemy wore his fear on his face, and the blow had lacked any real resolve behind it. Knowing that even a disheartened blow could be his last, the mounted sergeant waited till the Saracen's horse was near his and physically leapt out of his saddle onto the saracen.

Leinad, for all his good nature and fighting capabilities, was a big man, and made more so by his mail and plate. The sergeant impacted with the saracen with his shoulder first and lunged out to grasp the man with both hands and rip him from the saddle. Both men landed with a heavy thump and angry curses, both in arabic and english. Leinad was kneeling on the man and thumping his fists into his face to subdue him, before grabing the arab's hand which held a drik and squeezed till he let go. Making sure the horse was blocking them from sight, Leinad broke the man's neck in a swift gesture before standing again and dusting the grime and blood off of his mail and plate. He did not need a prisonor trailing after him and always presenting the danger of sticking a knife in his back whilst he slept.

Retrieving his iron arming sword and broad-bladed spear, wiping the blood off both with the cloth ripped from the dead men, Leinad soothed Lyamrai and looked at the others, before mounting up and galloping off. A few minutes later, he had rounded up half a dozen of the Arab mounts and held them by the reins, trotting to the group with a scar-spoiled grin.

"Not to question the Almighty's great and generous gift of two legs, but I always found the possession of four beneath the two He gave us a true blessing."

 

[corey43]

John was thourghly shocked at this encounter, it had happened so fast. When the riders came John stood his ground, he knew he would be no use in a fight such as this. But by God, if one of the saracens came close he would hack his Horse's head off and soon the riders aswell. Luckily it did not come to that and the combat was soon over, soon a thought came to his head, arrows.

''Sir, i request permission to search the corpses if i may. If God wills it, any arrows will greatly increase my life expectancy and combat usefullness.'' John asked.

 

[RalliX]

"Go ahead Archer, just means I have to buy less for you." He said whilst holding down his prisoner.
"How many of you speak Arabic? We need to know where we are, and where to go."

 

[Kalnia]

Throwing the reins of the small Arab mounts to the others, Leinad patted Lyamrai's neck affectionetly and looked at the knight.
"No Arabic passes my tongue, good sir, only minor latin and God's own language that is English. But my mailed gauntlets and the tip of my blade speak the universal language of violence, if you so wish me to translate to this godless heathen."
The mounted sergeant chuckled and ran a cloth over his spear's head to wipe the remnants of one man's guts off of its tip.

 

[The Mercenary]

Alys shrugged at the knight dismissively. She outranked him militarily, and probably in status as well, and felt no need to answer his question.

She casually walked over to the prisoner, cleaning her blade on his shirt while questioning him in Arabic, keeping her face right up against his, almost kissing him, and teasingly sliding her blade up towards his throat. After a few minutes, she nodded, straightening, then decapitated the prisoner with a single flash of her blade, ignoring his frantic cry and the raising of his hands as she raised the blade.

"No mercy for the heathens."

She cleaned the blade coldly, slid it into the scabbard at her hip, and mounted up, soothing the spooked horse with murmured words and a few soft strokes along its mane.

"Let's go. Acre is to the south, many leagues, as is King Richard's army."

 

[Úlfheðinn]

A slight frown crept across the face of Vilgot. He could never quite bring himself to support the killing of "heathens", if it could be helped. Vilgot would kill if he had too, that was no issue, rather if possible he felt it best to avoid bloodshed. Death and suffering went around aplenty without him contributing to it. Approaching the dead Saracens he offered quick prayer for each of them.  There was hope for all but the worst of men he reasoned. True, these bandits were no good men, but life was never simply black or white. Rather, it seemed a shade of gray.

Vilgot, sighed. It was strange the world had to be so cruel, so very often.

 

[corey43]

John searched the body's of the dead Saracens, he did not enjoy it, but it was necessary. To his delight he indeed found 5 arrows on one of them, He shoved them in his quiver and continued to search. Nothing else was found except a few silver coins, which he dutifully handed over to the Knight. I must not lose these arrows, John told himself. He sat down and looked over the arrows and his Precious Longbow while he awaited orders.

 

[Kalnia]

Watching with an expression tinged with amusement and half-hidden by the quart of flesh missing from his face, Leinad shook his head and trotted on several steps behind the Templars. He never did display the perfect honours according to nobility or to the priesthood, but his praise and success had normally kept him out of trouble. Curious after the strictness of the Templar Order, particularly that demonstrated by that of the lass, the mounted sergeant looked innocently up at the sky for signs of any birds as he rode beside Alys.

"Not to question the ways of the devout, nor do I harbor qualm with the death of helpless men who bore arms against good Christians, but I am curious. Was it God's vengeance on the heathen that took your blade back then, or was it necessasity of knowing we can not keep a prisoner on this march that guided your sword-arm?"

Keeping his voice as if he were merely inquiring about the weather, Leinad knew that questioning the Templar's methods was tantimount to heresy in some nations, but he was always one to tempt danger. Feeling happy under the midday sun and after the fairly easy victory, the young man decided to push his luck. All he had to lose was his head, after all.

"And, forgive a sinner's ignorance to the goings-on of the devout, but do you hold a station that requires me to call you by anything other then you're name? And on that chord, I dont think I have had the honour of your name, if you choose to bestow it upon me."

Leinad kept a friendly smile on his face, his features innocent and his voice calm, but kept a decent foot or two between his mount and that of Alys, keeping his mailed bracer ready to block a close range blow. He never did understand Templars, and moreso he never understood women. Best to be safe, he thought.

 

[The Mercenary]

Alys kept her eyes forward and her posture perfect as she rode the mare gracefully, as the insolent soldier spoke. She finally turned, her cool green eyes locking with the man's eyes, boring into them implacably, her expression fully blank.

"Lady Alys will do fine. Only other Templars may call me sister. And watch your tone, cur, for it borders on heresy."

She returned her eyes forward.

 

[Kalnia]

The sergeant returned the teenager's harsh stare with the same feigned naivity as before. Hiding the smile beneath a mask of humility, Leinad bowed his head and kept his voice as innocently content as it had been before.

"Then I shall call thee Lady Alys and no other. And heresy is but the end result of sin, and sin is forever the soldier's sorry companion. I shall burn for it, in the brimstone of the next life, but so is the cost of breaking the Commandments in doing the Lord's work."

With a bow of his head, Leinad kicked Lyamrai into a gallop and down the road, finally letting his grin show to be hidden by the dust. It was a good day, a victory behind him and the prospect of battle ahead fresh in his soul, as Leinad slowed Lyamrai to a trot a good distance ahead of the group to resume his scouting, a safe distance away from a Templar blade.

 

[Corndawg]

As the sergeant galloped ahead, Corey turned to Alys, "Sister Alys, don't waste your time with him. We have more important things to worry about. I hope there's at least a small town on the way, we need food, unless we can make it to Acre in three days."

Corey looked ahead and sighed. He quickly muttered the Lord's Prayer and began walking.

"Come along, let's move."

 

[Boomie]

"I have been travelling the land for a few days," Giuseppe said to the group, removing the unused bolt from his crossbow. "I can recall a small oasis near here, it has no food, but if God wills it, there will be a stray camel for food." He opened his waterskin to drink, but it was empty. An hour of running through the desert can make even the hardiest men weary. But surviving for days on end with barely any water or food in the forests of Faido has given Giuseppe unnatural endurance in the heat. But he was still human, he still feels the thirst for water and the hunger for food.

"We can reach the oasis by dark, just proper. Ironically nights here are as cold as nights in the mountains, and days seem hotter than the sun underneath heavy armour." Giuseppe suddenly noticed he said the last statement in Italian, and said it again in proper English. "I'll have to warn you that it's a very common spot here in the desert, many people - Saracens, Turks, Crusaders - come there for rest, I doubt we'll be alone."

 

[Serann]

//I'm just gonna say that the Saracens came from the south in which direction you're heading now, if that's ok with everyone.

"Sand, Sand, nichts als Sand! (Sand, sand, nothing but sand!)" Bernard was cursing in german and kicked a broken bow aside. About an hour ago he had woken up on the shores of what he hoped was their destination. Or at least anywhere near it. The ship... gone. His brothers... gone. Or at least he couldn't see them anywhere. Luckily he was still wearing his armor, it was a wonder he hadn't drowned with it or maybe a sign by god? He looked around, not too far away a kite shield with the teutonic cross on it was lying in the sand. This was too obvious to miss. He got on his knees, prayed and thanked god for his help in this troubled times and then picked up his shield. He looked around. There was broken equipment and a few corpses around him but no sign of any other survivors. And so, he decided to search the beach for any other survivors, now about an hour later he stopped as he stumbled over something. "... Mein Helm? (My helmet?)" He kneeled down and picked up the horned helmet... it wasn't his, it was one of his brother's but it would do, he put the helmet under his arm and moved on.

As he kept going he found something interesting. Now, he wasn't a ranger or heathen, but he recognized tracks when he saw them. A few riders had passed here and their tracks were fresh. He stood there thinking for a moment what he should do next. "Whoever passed by here, probably knew where he was heading, and he was probably heading somewhere, where he could find water. Hm, maybe a heathen or maybe a crusader? But it doesn't matter. Either I will die fighting with honor, or I'll find brothers and water. But aimlessly crossing the desert will kill me in days. And so it was he decided and he followed the tracks to wherever they were heading. As he followed them to the north, he saw a group of riders heading towards him. He stopped. Strange... are they following the tracks as well? Just in case he put his helmet on and raised his shield, his hand at his sword's hilt. But as he came closer he saw the red crosses and breathed out in relief. He lowered his shield again and walked towards what he believed to be scouts of the crusaders.

 

[RalliX]

Once again at the head of the group, Sir Joseph looked about on his new grey Arabian horse.
Joseph saw a dark figure in the way of the evening sun, it glimmering at the tip of one of the horns on the figure's head.
Quickening his pace slightly, Joseph looked at the knight with mild enthusiasm, "Hail!" He shouted as he approached the now apparent Teuton.

 

[The Mercenary]

Alyssa wheeled her horse, rearing it and turning to look at the newcomer, her blade half drawn. She nodded, recognizing the black cross of the Teutonic Order, and resheathed her blade. There was no love lost between the Templars or the Teutonic Knights - there was no love lost between the Templars and any of the crusading orders - but they tolerated each other and respected each others' skill at arms, if nothing else. She rode forward at a canter, pausing far enough from the knight to avoid kicking sand on it.

"Welcome, brother. Who are you?"

 

[Hietala]

The sun was burning on her neck through her tagelmust. Her arrow quiver was nearly empty but 5 arrows. She lost her horse during a skirmish with some bandits... or were it rogue soldiers?, and had been walking from yesterday afternoon. When she reached the top of a sand dune, she spotted some shiny spots in a distance. Crusaders? She reckoned at least one templar knight among the party, who just rode towards a knight whose coat of arms was nearly similar to that one of the templar. She wondered if she could explain her situation, or would they react hostile? After a minute or two she made up her mind and walked towards the party with a steady pace.