The Secret of the Templar Knights - A M.E.S. story

[Lucius Sulla]

THE SECRETS OF THE TEMPLAR KNIGHTS

A three books epic of historic fantasy and fantastic history of the heroic struggles of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, from the aftermath of the Second Crusade to the First Jubilee in 1300.

Magic, blood, djinns, the grial, and more than one thousand elephants! (ok, maybe not the elephants)

[Lucius Sulla]

Greetings to my second big AAR project. Hi, I'm Lucius McLure and you may remember me from other translation projects such as "History and Stories of Spain" and the failed "Shadows over Berlin"...

For quite some time I have been writing in the Spanish AAR Forum this story. Slowly, and after 32 chapters, it has taken life of its own, developing is something more than I expected. Thus, after having finished two thirds of the story, I decided it was time to take a read back, taking the chance to translate it to English.

So, I hope you will excuse my occasional English typo and enjoy the storytelling.

But.

First of all, some friendly warnings.

The prologue may be considered quite offensive, since it lightly narrates a possible development of the Israel-Palestine problem. Please, rest assured, it's only used in this way out of narrative license, and no political value is really intended. I don't want to see any political comment in this thread, please.

My second warning goes to Tim Powers fans. Yes, I'm stealing (rather assaulting) a good part of the arguments of some of his books. I love those books and I would rather like to see this as a homage rather than any other thing.

Please, accept my apologies in these two matters, but I yet hope any of the affected by them will still enjoy the story.

[Lucius Sulla]

PROLOGUE

Prologue: King David Hotel, Jerusalem, 13:00, August 17th 2007


Heat was asphyxiating... The rays of the sun fell in a straight vertical and merciless way, punishing the naked bones of the milennary city. And indeed asphyxiating was the current political situation. All plans, routes or treaties for peace had failed. Premier Ariel Sharon, though, seemed as near victory over the palestinians as he had ever been, his outright policies covered internationally by his North American allies. Yasir Arafat had finally died among the rubble of the former headquarters of his ephemeral autonomous palestinian government, after a long siege by Israel's army tanks..

"... it was damn clear that Sharon was going to use the nervous gas terrorist attack as a bloody good excuse to crush them... I sometimes frankly doubt the palestinian leaders mental balance..."

The man talking like that was a journalist. Spanish. Short, barely past 1.65 metres, his tanned face clean of any hair, with a relatively youngish appearance that hid well his long experience and years. He was thin and fibrous... of a nervous build. In a way, only his paler face could separate him from the native semitical population.

"God... that was a bloody massacre. Do you remember the images? The deformed faces... the agony surely was tremendous for those poor people..."

"Tony... dead is dead. And those died truly well"

The american journalist he was sharing a pair of cups with opened his eyes with horror.

"Died... well?! It was a horrible way to die"

David, since that was the Spanish journalist's name, smiled suddenly, with that special smile that made his face turn from a teenager dreamer to that of a old wolf, with sharp fangs.

"A dead corpse that gives me such good photos, and so well paid, has died in a most excellent manner, at least for me. Those images sold incredibly well."

"For the love of god, I don't know when you got so cynical. When did the killings stopped affecting you?"

"From the very moment I understood each one has exactly what each one desserve. Yes... everybody, even the so called innocent... a lesson everybody must understand and accept or suffer."

He took the first pull at his vodka with lemonade and stood up suddenly "I'm going now to the mosques... today the troops are assaulting the Dome of the Rock, and that will be surely a impressive sight. I think Sharon's tanks are starting to be heard right now, if I'm not mistaken, heading there. If we don't ran fast enough, they will have killed all the palestinians" he added with sarcasm, winking his eye.

Jerusalem, 20:00

Dusk was sliding the last rays over the bloodied plain. The muslims had fought with fierceness during the last hours for their holy place. A completley useless ressistance. The mosques were not a fortress and were not easily defensible, after all.

Israel's troops had finally defeated them. With the Middle and Near East gripped by American intervention with an iron fist, with their new bases in Afghanistan, Syria, Iran and Iraq, the Sharon government had slowly but relentlessly adding more pressure until finally being able to achieve the unthinkable, assaulting without true international consequences the third most holy place of the Islam.

Muslim pride laid on the ground, broken, and only Turkey, traditional ally and member of the NATO dared uttering faint menaces in the United Nation council. The rest of the muslim countries could barely protest, all of them in great inner turmoil. From the monarchies in Jordan and Saudi Arabia to the new regime in Egypt, civil war was practically raging before the push of the new fanatics and extremists.

Corpses were being piled up over the sacred plains. The weak remaining ressistance was crused with grenades and automatic weapons. David knew, of course, he was risking his life to take good photos. With a dirty white shirt and a bracer with the word 'PRESS' on it (completely useless to dodge a bullet, he liked to say), he crawled up through a ragged way up that would allow him to climb over the edge of the mosques mesa, to a slightly raised rock that he discovered some time ago, that would allow him to take the best photos... well, good enough to pay for enough vodka with lemon for around two years or so.

"Of course I will have to keep the most espectacular ones..." he reminded himself as he crawled again to better a bit the shooting angle. The dismembered bodies usually sold well some time after the action, his newspaper would not publish too violent photos... at least not the first day. And while he was still crawling, he heard the whistle of a mortar projectile, heading directly towards him...

[mfigueras]

Congratulations, Lucius, for beginning the translation of your AAR.

To all the readers I must say that the original spanish version of this AAR is truly wonderful, and knowing Lucius Sulla, I can assure that his english translation will be equally excellent.

So, my advise is: don't miss a single chapter of this wondrous AAR!

[Lucius Sulla]

BOOK 1: BLOOD OVER THE GRASS

CHAPTER 1: The Secret Library


Coughing the dust from his mouth, David slowly rose up to a painful awakening. All his body was in pain. Slowly, in the darkness, he felt himself, stretching his muscles. Well, everything seemed to be in place. Only very minor damage... if something, some small cuts on his face and hands, that made some blood drops slide down and make him taste the iron taste of his own ichor. Everything was too dark... maybe he had gone blind? Slowly, he remembered.

One of the mortar shots from the Israel army had flown directly towards him, towards his possition. He had tried to dodge it... somehow... letting himself slide quickly from his elevated possition. But all had been useless. A crack, and he felt himself falling... suddenly a explosion of light... and the bliss of unconsciousness.

Mmm... falling could have been before the explosion. And he was not blind. He fumbled a bit with his backpack to finally managing to extract his lantern. The cone of light lightened a wall. And the firsst thing he saw was a cross.

The Beaussant! Yes, certainly the cross and ensign of the templas, sown on a half unwoven tapestry. Quicly he moved around the light of his lantern. There were not more tapestries... but the Cross of Lorraine was everywhere! In every ornament, over each ensign...

There were few doubts this place had belonged to the Poor Knights of Christ and the Temple of Solomon. The Templar Knights. The Templars, the legendary warrior order that had terrorized the holy land with their violence and their fanatic religious zeal. When his light reached the next engravements, he had no doubts...

The founders of the order, with the misterious Hugo de Payns at its head. The engravement was three meters over the ground, so he followed with his light down... to reveal boards and boards with skin parchments, documents piled carefully.

Of course... the Al-Aqsa mosque had been the administrative center in Jerusalem for the Order of the Temple, given to them by one of the Crusader Kings. An irony that no doubt modern muslims appreciated... at least those with historic studies. The most famous crusading order had been in the third most sacred place of the Islam.

But... how was it possible that this archeological treasure had not been discovered yet? A terrible suspicion grew in David's mind. With his lantern frenetically searched around... only debris... there was no exit... he waws trapped. He felt his legs weaken in dismay. There was only a small hole, in one of the corners of the ceiling, too high to reach. Surely, the hole that had swallowed him as he tried to slide down... and which had practically collapsed again on itself after the mortar explosion... now only big enough to allow him to see it was already night time. This room had been a library, or maybe a secret refuge. At some moment in history it had been blocked and hidden to the muslim conquest of Jerusalem. And only by sheer coincidence he had found it.

But he was not a man who would remain in sadness too long. He had found an archeological found of awesome value, that no doubt would give him a suculent fee... maybe even a long report for the National Geographic. With his lantern he walked towards the documents, extremely carefully displaying and spreading the first scroll at his reach, a care acquired during his years of archeological studies in the university (studies that at one point of his life he merely considered a passtime). It seemed a collection of letters, chronicles and maps.

In fact it was a map of Jerusalem the first thing he saw among them... Jerusalem in 1150, Anno Domini...

Slowly he read the first parchment, a letter. Everything had been written in latin or in middle ages french, tongues that he was able to read with certain difficulty.

"To the Great Master Bernard de Tremelai, in the year of the Birth of Our Lord of 1149,

The flags of the crusaders lay humiliated, the siege of Damascus defeated by the heathen..."

[Lucius Sulla]

Chapter 2: The First Letter

David read slowly and with a big deal of effort could translate what seemed a letter from Jerusalem to Sicily, which had come back to be filed somehow to the templar archives. Ah, here it was the reference: Letter from Knight Heirich von Klütznay to the Grand Master of the Order of the Temple, Bernard du Tremelai.


"To the Grand Master Bernard du Tremelai, in the day of the Birth of Our Lord of 1149,

The flags of the crusaders lay humiliated, the siege of Damascus defeated. Just few months ago the last ship of Emperor Conrad III left the harbour of Saint John of Acre , despaired and exhausted after his long siege before the syrian capital.

You were right and I was wrong, as you noticed the seeds of discord between the French king and His Imperial Majesty. Our armies were already defeated before they could unsheath a single sword because of the hate our two monarchs profess to each other. The syrian leader, Nur-al-Din, profitted greatly from our troubles. The friendship each of our kings profess to such enemies as the king of Sicily and the Roman Emperor only brought division to our ranks.

(Conrad III and Louis VII in the Second Crusade)

When reconciliation finally arrived, it was too late. The sieges of Damascus and Ascalon were defeated with great ease by the new Lord of Syria. A very skillful and cunning turk, if you allow me to say so, not unlike his seljuk liege.

Such defeats disheartened our troops, shook the very fighting soul of our monarchs, and far from the influence of the good Bernard of Claraval, they decided to leave our coasts, defeated.

But, evil usually turns upon itself. If we are not right now besieged ourselves, our army destroyed, our flags captured, is because the victorious Nur-al-Din has provoked with his expert and succesful command the envy of the Seljuk sultan. Syrian power is growing just too much for the taste of Abul Harith Sanjar. With his current trouble with the Hamadan sultans, he can't just allow other rogue vassal... and so, Nur-al-Din has lost the main part of the troops that so many victories achieved for him, ceded by his liege and now recalled.

But again, my lord, our situation is far from good at the current moment. The Principality of Antioch is in deep chaos. When Raymond I of Antioch died, his wife decided to get married with Reynald of Chatillôn, a brave man, yes, but incredible savage and lacking any basic discipline or respect to his betters. His band of 'knights' or rather brigands, terrorize and sack the defenseless country.

The count of Tripoli, Raymond II keeps at least nominal friendly ties with Jerusalem, but after the defeat of the last crusade, he keeps a careful wait for any new event, ready to grab any chance to better his possition, even against the King of Jerusalem.

But among this times of weak hope, new and firm promises appear.

Young Balduin, third of his name he will be, is a valiant young man, strong and skillful. Only 19 years old, he commands his men like an expert and veteran general, and it has been him the one who has secured our northern borders, before the first saracen probings into our defenses. Still, it is rumoured that the regent, his own mother, feels reluctant to release her power and confirm the majority of our brave king.

It's for this reason I write you, my lord, so you will hasten your return from Sicily. The order, and all the brave crusader knights that remain here, need your guide, hoping your friendship and counsel to King Balduin will give wings to his greatness and will force a peaceful agreement with his mother..."

Things were looking grim for the templars, that seemed sure. Christians lords that should have guided their knights, were divided by hate, envy or ambition. Leaving the pile of letters, most of which seemed unsubstantial, he picked up a big volume that seemed to be a chronicle of those years. Ah... there it was...

[Lord G. Q. White]

Wow It's simply magnificant. You've got me hooked. I'm also glad to hear that you've allready gotten most of it written and therefore should updat quite frequently.

Thanks,

GW

[Storey]

Very impressive Lucius Sulla. I'll be reading.

Joe

[Lucius Sulla]

Wooot... somebody is actually reading (and MFigueras does not count, he has already read the Spanish version).

I have 2 of 3 whole 'books' already finished in Spanish, in the Spanish AAR forums, and that would be 33 chapters + the prologue, going from 1150 to 1204.

I will be posting one chapter each weekday (not on weekends), if work is not too bad. If I have to skip one day, I will try my best to recover the schedule.

Well, I hope you enjoy

[Lucius Sulla]

Chapter 3: A New Alliance

David, first, felt quite surprised at the heterogeneous mix that this 'book' pressented. It was rather a pile of documents, trapped and pressed within the volume covers. The first page was marked with a beautiful miniature, sorrounding a big and beautifully drawn 'B'. For Balduin III, he guessed, the young king mentioned on the first letter he found, just before. The first document seemed a writ of alliance, a treaty with notes at the margins, probably a copy given to the order, since the Grand Master itself appeard as witness to it. With care, he read the difficult words in medieval latin, and the french margin notes in medieval French.

"We, Knights of the Cross, Lords of our Domain, stand toguether before the unfaithful, declaring we are brothers in blood and steel. We declare that no one will menace one of our own, without menacing all of us. We declare that when one would call to arms, the other will rush to help with all their strength and will.

Balduin III, King of Jerusalem
Joscelin II, Count of Edessa
Reynald du Chatillôn, chancellor of Constance, Princess of Antioch
Raymond I, count of Tripoli

And we sign this treaty as witness to this sacred pact.

Raimond du Puy, Grand Master of the Order of the Hospital and Saint John
Bernard du Tremelai, Grand Master of the Order of the Poor Knights of the Temple of Salomon."

David frowned. He thought all the mess of the second crusade had been organized because of the fall of Edessa... Did that make sense? And, the Second Crusade had not been a success... ah, here it was... the notes just below the treaty.

"... and despite the desperate pleads for help of Count Joscelin to recover one of the first and most important fortresses of Christendom, not even the usually bold king Balduin could give any help. Desperated, the count left Jerusalem furious, tearing up his copy of the treaty, the very same week after it was signed. Out of his mind, he swore before god vengeance over Syrians and Christians equally, riding to his fateful end..."

Among the notes, there were several changes in the writing style and even the language style... and it was a pity, since he felt the spidery letters in the margin were somehow spoiling the beauty of the document, even if the French Academy would probably go mad with joy before such a good found of french medieval language.

"...In a cold October night, alone in the road to Antioch, in his way to recruit volunteers to conquer back Edessa, Count Joscelin was captured by bandits. Nur-Al-Din, the wicked saracen lord, having news of this, attacked the bandit camp to take the christian count, a perfect target of chance, for himself. Joscelin was thrown then to a dungeon, not before having been blinded. Before such offense, such insult, and despite the pleadings of Joscelin's family to save the tragic count to the King of Jerusalem for a rescue, be it using gold or steel, nothing was done. The King was just too busy solving the trouble with his mother, and Reynald of Chatillôn took the chance, in his usual unashamed fashion, to proclaim himself heir to the County... and then seel its rights to the Byzantine emperor... that who names himself unjustly Emperor of the Romans."

David snickered. Such a good blood and steel brothers... so much for the Christian alliance, leaving to his fate like that poor Count Josceling. Well, people are people...in 2007 or 1150... no matter how high purpouses, how loftly alliance might be declared. They were sealing the fate of Christian Outremer with their selfishness, David thought with a tired smile.

After the alliance, the chronicle itself continued in a more standard way, with the crowning and the first years of the reign of Balduin III. He looked at the small hole and the few stars that could be seen through it's width. He switched off the lantern and had a pair of cookies. But, unable to sleep, he used the lantern again to look at the parchment. The rescue, if it ever arrived, would take quite some time to do so, and he had nothing better to do...

[Lucius Sulla]

Chapter 4: The Making of a Great King

This volume was covered in luxurious and obviously expensive covers, even for the time, and thus it had ressisted extremely well the pass of the ages. It was called something in the lines of "Chronicles of the Kingdom of Balduin III, King of Jerusalem", but with the usual adorned medieval latin style.

"... and in that cold winter morning, while a strong and dry wind from the east was hitting on the Castle of Saint John of Acre, the principals of the Kingdom arrived. The count of Tripoli, the Princess of Antioch and the Grand Masters of all the chivalry orders, all of them proud of their armours, flags and symbols, their crosses visible all over their ceremony outfits..."

"...that our Good Lord Balduin had got the crown despite trickery and lies, and because of the ressistance of her lady mother, the regent, had to cede to her the cities of the South, including the holy city of Jerusalem..."

"... but during the night, when dealinges are darker and more secret, king Balduin met Grand Master Bernard of Tremelai, to forge the secret conspiracy that would give wings to the ambition of such a wary young King. The Holy Land stood divided, both in the Christian and in the Muslim side, but the heather were meany and found themselves always behind strong walls, while the valiant crusaders were few, and only had the inspiration from Our Lord Jesus Christ to defend themselves and their cause..."

"... a secret pact was thus signed between the Crown of Jerusalem and the Templar order. For the support of our order, and the economic support from our network in Europe, the king would give us men and authority to build new fortresses in Judea and Tripoli and Antioch, and would favour our order over others..."

"... the first mission the order would carry out would be the capture of the queen mother, that so ambitious and selfishly was retaining fortress that would be needed for the future projection of the kingdom, and the porpouses the king harboured. The templar knights would capture and hold prisoner the mother of our Queen in the citadel of King David, and they would cut down any of her allies that would dare oppose them or the King. Many of those being of the orthodox heresy, to whom no mercy would be spared, since a strong king would be the thing they most fear."

As usual the caligraphy changed after that, as if written in a more rushed manner, but showing a lot more energy and style. The letter of a warrior, no doubt, not so charged with linguistic ornaments, and with a more direct and concise Latin. Not only the personality of the new writer showed up behind this new letter, but also the very nature of the events described... like if this pages had been slipped into the byzantine style chronicle.

"My Lord, King's David Citadel has fallen to our men, and your mother is now our prisoner in the cells of the Temple, where she is treated with respect and honour, but with prudence. Our swords mowed down all ressistance, without giving any chance to the faction that supported the regent to ressist. The Templar Kinghts have assured for you each one of the gates of the Holy City, and the rest of the fortresses that you ceded to your mother are surrendering before the sudden news of our coup. We await for your arrival in triumph to Jerusalem, where your enemies will bow down to your glory, so their very hopes will die and their loyalty will be surrendered to your glory.

Bernard du Treville, Marshall Knight of the Order of the Temple"

Conspiracy had triumphed thus, and in a sudden, lethal and absolute fashion. What is more, the pact had been succesfully kept secret, and thus all the glory had been given to the bold and able king Balduin, that finally had managed to centralize all the power of the kingdom in his hands. Finally, with an obediente realm, he could create the war machine he wished, always aided by the order of the Temple.

And so, the chronicles went on with the battles of such a stormy monarch...

[Sapphire]

Nice!!

Like the the style and structures of the update...

I will follow this AAR with great expection

Thanks

Joe (Sapphire)

[Storey]

Very enjoyable to read. I'm in the beginning stages of an AAR about the KoJ so it will be interesting to see how you played them. Maybe I'll get some tips.

Joe

[Lucius Sulla]

Chapter 5: Onward to Ascalon!

"Secret message from Bernard du Treville, Marshall Knight, to Bernard du Tremelai, Grand Master of the Order of the Temple:

A new and grave hit has been striken upon Christian Outremer. Count Raymond II of Tripoli, our faithful ally, has been murdered in the most vile of the ways by hooded heathen, when he was headed to the crowning ceremony of His Royal Majesty King Balduin, our new and young king. We could not even interrogate the muslims, since they somehow killed themselves with poison before we could even act.

Our new troops await at Jerusalem, holding the remains of the rebel nobles that supported the queen mother. They can no longer offer a real threat to our interests.

Nur-al-Din has taken profit of the relaxation in our frontiers, given our inner turmoil, and has occupied the Orontes Valley. If we should take a decisive action it should be now or never. I plead the Grand Master to decide where should I lead our valiant knights."


Ah, David thought, the misterious sect of the assassins and their even more cryptic leader, the old man of the mountain, who would strike on both christians and muslims during the crusades. It could be said it was the first true pure terrorist organization ever. And in the Middle Orient, no less. Saladin himself nearly fell to their knives, if he recalled correctly... ah yes... they were Shiites, and the he was Sunni. The typical crap.

Outremer had many enemies. North and East, the syrian sultanate, with Nur-al-Din nearly on the verge of procclaming himself sultan, as soon as he would fully control Damascus, making himself equal in rank to his nominal Seljuk masters. To the South, the decadent Fatimid Caliphate. If anything saved the Christians, heavily outnumbered in both directions, was the fact that both muslim nations hated each other in a ravenous fashion, and they even where adamant enemies in the religious field, being Syria followers of the Sunna, and being Egypt Shiite.

But even despite such duality they usually clamped onto the borders of the christian kingdoms with tenacity, as it had been proved during the second crusade. The German Emperor and the French King had tried to assault Damascus to the East and Ascalon to the South. Both sieges ressulting in sound and expensive failures. The inability to conquer Ascalon was particularly damaging to Balduin's kingdom, since that would be the only natural frontier able to protect the southern frontier.

"To the Grand Master Bernard du Tremelai, to all the Templar Fortresses and Chapters in Outremer:

Rejoice, brothers of the Temple, since our Lord and Monarch Balduin III of Anjoy, son of the Great Fulk, King of Jerusalem, has called us to arms!

We are in grave danger, and only a quick and strong action, with the guide and help of Our Lord Jesus Christ, will guide our swords. The Knights of the Hospital have been kept from this glorious task, and have been given the task of holding the evil syrians in the Orontes river. Over our shoulders the heavy task of guiding this enterprise to success have fallen. And we will not fail!

To the arms, Brothers of the Temple!

Since it's not the cruel Turks the ones that shall feel our righteous wrath, but that thorn that has been scratching oun our flank too much time, forcing us to keep an ever vigilant watch over the southern frontier. Bold King Balduin knows of the great riches that the fortress of Ascalon holds, ready for the taking. But as Poor Knights, the temporal riches should not be in our minds, but impose the true religion now and forever in the Holy Land.

I know all of you will act with bravery beyond any bounds, faith and honour! Egypt may seem exhausted, but we should remind ourselves that the powerful kings of France and Germany nothing could do. But we will succeed were they failed, since our cause is pure, and so each of our men is worth one hundred, guided by the divine providence.

Onward to Ascalon! May the heathen tremble with the rumble of our horses charging towards them and raising dust in the dry land! May their heart falter them when the Beaussant, our sacred cross, will appear in front of their walls!"

The chronicle, at least the compilation of messages, letters and documents, was indeed interesting. Indeed, he remembered that the dinasty of Fulk would be remembered as good times for the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Even if they would be the last good times...

"Description of the Fortress of Ascalon for the military plans of the order, as dictated by Marshall Knight Bernard du Treville.

My Lord and Grand Master, the city of Ascalon was one of the famous five philistean cities of the Bible, and has always been a great and heavily protected fortress from the beggining of the times. Far than letting it crumble, its owners have tended and improved well and expertly its defenses, reinforced each very century.

Ascalon is placed on a mesa before the sea raised by steep natural heights, that have been taken profit for great walls to be carved directly upon them. As such, the walls have been built on the very same stone of the plain, and even further reinforced. It will be impossible so to mine them and make them fall. In each of the corners of the four walls, nearly one hundred year ago tall towers were built, giving great advantage to any number of archers taht would place themselves into them. Even if the towers are not esculpted in the live stone of the walls, its construction is of modern design and will be nearly impossible to defeat with siege weaponry.

Four walls, four towers and four gates.

The first gate is the Jerusalem one, and it looks towards the road that leads to the holiest of the cities, being the main and bigger door of the fortress. It's the wider and the most vulnerable, but as such has been reinforced by men appropiatedly, with barbicans in each of its flanks. What is more... it has been elevated, only a highened and narrow pass leading up to it.

The other three gates are far inferior in size to this one, being called the Sea Gate, the Gaza Gate and the Jaffa Gate, built in such a way that only 6 armed men could cross them at the same time, and not witout great difficulties.

We have, though, a great advantage. Ascalan, even placed so near the coast is not a harbour. We can encircle the city completely, and even counting with their huge food resserves and weapon caches, they will not be able to receive help directly by sea without defeating our army, something I estimate unlikely given the fact our knights are greatly superior in land close combat to the Egyptians.

But the last and most importante defense of Ascalon are its citizens. During fifty years this has been the true reason Ascalon has ressisted every assault. All of them are skillful and trained in the practice of weapons, and they love with passion their city. The Fatimid Caliph, knowing this, pays each one of the citizens a salary, just for living in the city and being able to defend it at every moment. As such, the fortress is always filled with expert defenders, in any circumstance.

The terrain that surrounds Ascalon is sandy and dry, completely improductive, so our troops will have to supply itself from afar. Still I trust our admiral Gerard du Sidon, an able and valiant man who commands our fleet, composed of 15 galleys, five of which completely manned by Templar Knights. Our fleet will protect our land and sea supply lines from any egyptian attack.

We should press, thus, each day, each hour, trying to find a breach in such a magnificent construction, since should the Hospitallers fail in the Orontes valley or any successful attack into our supply lines would make us surrender and forsake the siege."

The Siege of Ascalon

The next letter, a long one at that, was directed also to the Grand Master of the Templars. But it seemed this was not the already familiar Beranrd du Tremelai... Had the leader of the crusader knights fallen in combat in the siege of Ascalon?

[Lucius Sulla]

Thanks for your kind words, Storey and Sapphire, I hope you enjoy the read. The first chapters, as you will see later are the, I feel, the most dry and historic ones. In the feature I will try to develop a metaplot of its own, with the promised adventures, emotion, magic and the secrets themselves that are announced in the tittle of this story.

[Lucius Sulla]

Chapter 6: The Blood of Christ

Ah, perhaps these new letters will hold the answers he was looking for.

David felt, for the first time in ages, a true researcher, tracking histori, observing the processes that made current middle east be what it was now. The stories he was reading might be eight centuries old, but the words, the passion that these men displayed before such dramatic and moving events, broke the barriers of time.

"From Andre du Montbard, Fifth Grand Master of the Order of the Temple to Bernard du Treville, Marshall of the Knights:

My good Bernard, it was years ago we last saw each other, after our good Lord Everard sent me in mission of escort of King Louis of France, after his bitter journey back to his demesnes from Acre. Since then I have tried to be a good counselor and I have also tried to make him help the holy land efforts. My efforts were futile, the king having a great deal of trouble after the surprising developments that have occured after the anullation of his marriage to Duchess Leonor of Aquitaine.

I felt quite surprised then, given the scarce success of my task, when I received the news that I was to be the new Grand Master, and thus my pressence would be needed with urgency in Outremer.

But not only I did felt surprised, but also deeply worried, since with these news other arrived with the circumstances of the death of former Grand Master Bernard du Tremelai, may God hold him in his Glory. The name of the order has been stained by corruption and avarice, and everybody in the French court is commenting his horrible and well desserved, or so they say, end in the walls of Ascalon.

I knew Bernard, and I supported him to be Grand Master of our Sacred Order. He was never an ambitious man, but humble and fearful of God, so I can't understand how the events I have been told can be true."

By sheer coincidence, David remembered the history of the end of the Templar command in Ascalon. When the first breach could be achieved in the walls of the fortress, the templar knights throw themselves into it, blocking the pass to the rest of the army, not letting them pass to help.

If he recalled correctly, they behaved in such a despicable way to secure the sacking rights in what seemed the beggining of the end for the Ascalon siege. But it was not like that... the warlike citizens of Ascalon throw themselves fiercely to block the breach... and since the Templars had not allowed nobody but themselves to pass through, they were pushed away by the superior number of defenders. Because of such avarice the Grand Master and all his honour guard died, and the siege of the city, the breach secured and repaired, still would hold for three additional months.

But the following document, a scroll, made him open wide his eyes. To start with, it was sealed with a still enduring red wax seal and a 'top secret' like warning on it. Perhaps, as it was just after the other letter, the one from the new Grand Master, meant it was its reply, the explanation of Tremalai's death.

Breaking a seal was something that would perhaps bother greatly the authorities when he managed to get out of this mess and this archeological treasure he had found was revealed.

What the hell, David thought... Curiosity was too big a temptation for him and he was not going to wait...

"From Bernard du Blanquefort, Marshall of the Knights, to the Grand Master..."

Ah, not only the Grand Master had changed, but the militar leader of the order too.

"... so it will be registered what really happened during the siege of Ascalon...

...During the frist assaults to the walls of Ascalon, one knight in our own ranks distinguised himself out of bravery and daring, a Templar Brother coming from northeastern Iberia, second son of an aragonese noble, sent to our order since he was a child..."

David cursed. The ink with which the name of said knight, or that is what he supposed it was, had been scratched from the parchment, that was clearly damaged in that section ¿Why seal a document and mark it as secret, if it had been previously censored?

"... dark faced, eagle nosed, his masters and teachers always felt ill for him, since it was clear that through his veins muslim or jew blood was flowing, specially knowing that in Iberia the Christian kingdoms not always kept a good enough distance with the enemies of our Faith."

What a bloody eufemism... so, it was clear the knight in question was the bastard soon of one local baron who had an affair with a moorish woman, and later was brave enough to recognize his offspring. It was quite curious that he had decided to dedicate his child to the most fanatical crusading order of knights.

"... but his dark and intelligent eyes and his hooked nose made him perfect to disguise himself as jew or sarracen, and he had been the eyes of the order in enemy lands even from tender age."

"... he left then the besieged fortress at night with great agitation and haste, holding secret council with Grand Baster Tremelai, and with the rest of his high command.

He said to us he had found a strange and old jewish merchant, trapped in the city because of the sudden arrival of the crusaders, who had affirmed he knew of the location of a powerful relic, the cup that Our Lord used during his Last Supper..."

David nearly dropped the scroll. The holy Grail. The Grail, no less! What the merchant jew knew was nothing less that the Grail itself!

"... the Grand Master and our knight..." again the scratched name "...made then a plan to be able to get out of the city the old jew and his books. But the plan would be kept in absolute secret, since nobody should know of the true porpouse of the Order..."

The rest of the document was clear. The Grand Master and his most valiant knights had sacrificed their lives so the misterious aragonese knight and the old jew could pass secretly through the breach. All for an absurd history. A chimera. He did not bet for the poor jew's life when the Templars would discover the obvious deception. Ah, he had no time, it seemed...

"... unfortunately, an arrow hit the jew in the belly, injuring him deeply, and he died of this wound in our camp, but managed to give us some clues of the location of the holy chalice. With his books, we thought we had enough information.

Disgracefully, when we later checked the old man's books, we found them in very old hebrew characters, and even then in what seemed an unbreakable cypher. According to " Again the scratched name " the only man able to translate and break those texts was muslim soothsayer called Omar-al-Nasr... who lived in Damascus, far from our reach.

It is of great importance that we get this man, by any means necessary."

And that was the end of the secret document. Bah. It was not that important... the traffic of false relics happened often in Outremer, specially given the flow of credule christian pilgrims to Jerusalem, ignorant and superstitious people eager to accept that a donkey's bone was no less than the holy finger of Saint Mary...

The following documents narrated in a quick manner the fall of Ascalon before the skillful strategy of King Balduin, despite the desperate attempts of the Egyptians to break his siege. The crusaders were soldiers much more expert than the Fatimid mercenaries, and all the attempts were broken with few difficulties and deaths.

When Ascalon finally fell, king Balduin III showed a surprising but well calculated mercy, allowing the remaining defenders to go alive from the city after a rich ransom, and a treaty promising the Fatimids he would not keep on pushing south. All was ready to go back to Syria... and take revenge against Nur-al-Din! The riches captured in Ascalon, adding the ransom to them, were many... enough to pay for an army big enough to take said campaign.

But the templars were now disgraced by their apparent avarice and because having put the siege in danger. They were casted away from the king's favour. Balduin, unable to know the true aim of the reckless templar action during the siege, decided the Order could not be counted upon in his future attack to Syria, leaving them with garrison duties in Jerusalem. All efforts had been for nothing fof the Templars, or so it seemed. Trying to catch a dream, not only they had not got it, but also had lost the royal favour. Anyway, David remainded himself, the crusaders never conquered Damascus.

[Voivode]

World would be an emptier place without excellent MES AARs such as this. You Spaniards seem to be spiritually linked to the Medievals (eh, MFigueras?).

[Lucius Sulla]

Chapter 7: Montgisard

So that is how the Templar Order, dishonoured before such apparent avarice, but in fact absolutely credulity and stupidity befero such an impossible myth, had fallen from royal grace. But they still retained many of their contacts, it seemed.

"From Jean Luc du Soissons, royal confessor and Abbot of the Order of the Temple, to André du Montbard, Grand Master:

Allow me, my Lord, to tell you of the battle of Montgisard, may its name last in Christemdom's memory for ever.

We left from Ascalon, once the King established his far cousin as the new castelan of the mighty fortress, the knight Pierre d'Auvergne, left with the duty of stablish good christian knights in Ascalon, help the new colonizers find a good house and good lands, and made sure all the heathen would find a peaceful return to Egypt.

With great pain in my side I saw how I was the only templar admitted to his royal pressence, since His Majesty was still furious with the order with the events that transpired during the first breaching of Ascalon. And then, only given my possition as his personal confessor. We do have a strongwilled king, My Lord, completely willing to enforce his personal power over the traditional dependence from the orders, and he has surrounded himself of valiant knights only faithful to his crown and not to the most holy catholic church. Certainly, with the Hospitallers defending the syrian frontier and our own templar brothers defending Jerusalem and the inner fortresses, victory and glory would be only his. Ambition for glory... a flaw that has damaged many valiant and proud kings before him, but that has provoked his success.

I tried everything, my Lord, to make him reconsider his possition with the Order, given our past good relation... He was anxious for the attack against Nur-al-Din, and would not have even time to hear me. With Nur-al-Din practically reviled and forsaken by his Seljuk masters, jelous from his success in the peaceful conquest of Damascus, and his victories over our forces during the second and ill-fated crusade, this was the moment to rush an attack.

These are the reasons we did not ride through the Jerusalem route, to reach the weakened Hospitaller possitions, but that of the East, bordering our souther frontiers. Never this route was taken before, Damascus always having been reached in our previous attacks from the norther route of Antioch, or the direct routh from Tripoli and Jerusalem... but this rushed and brave ride to the north will be remembered for a long time. I was there riding with the king, and the sound of the hooves of the heavy war horses, galloping north and making the very ground tremble like an earthquake through the Jordan Valley is a remembrance I will take to my tomb.

The escarce garrisons in Jordan, turks that were not too loved by the local arab tribes, were completely destroyed in lightly attacked, since they were ill-prepared for such a powerful invasion, and their camps were burnt as dry wheat fields before the devoring fire of the young king. The rocky fortresses in the muslim side of our frontier were ignored completely, leaving the hospitallers to press onto their garrisons from the other side of the frontier. Not that they could press too much. Their possition was getting more desperate, and the old Grand Master of the order of the Hospital was nearly surrounded by superior troops lead by Nur-al-Din himself. Should he retire he would have let the road to Acre free, and the control of the pass of the Orontes to the muslims.

But the king arrived in time. From the south the christian flags were displayed before the attack, and all the hears of the faithful raised in happiness when the very pressence of the king from such an unexpected flank was announced by his trumpeteers and drummers. Nobody could have awaited such a quick arrival from Ascalon and Jerusalen, and even less from such a long and unused route. Nur-al-Din, greatly allarmed and fearing the heavy christian knights, disposed his saracens in the forested hills of Montgisard, his archers and lancers alligning themselves in the edge of the thick forests that went allong the thin Orontes river.

But nothing could the trees do against the fury of our king. Without regard to his own safety, with his usual reckless abandon, he directed a tremendous charge against the syrian infantry, who could not mantain order in their ranks as they saw the impressive image of thousands of heavy warhorses crushing the ground towards them. In few moments, Nur-al-Din could only count with his most faithful troops, who only pressented a last and desperated defense with our well armed (with the gold of Ascalon) knights, buying time for his lord to reach Damascus and prepare himself there.

As dusk fell, the field was ours, and after the Grand Master of the Hospital joined us, we directed our victorious steeds over the corpses of the heathen, taking the road towards Damascus. There I await further instructions."

David opened his eyes again with surprise and then frowned. Montgisard... Montgisard... Ah, but that battle was not to be fought decades after this date... and not by Balduin III, but by Richard the Lionhearted of England. Perhaps there was a previous Christian victory in such a location, lost in the known chronicles? Or maybe the Abbot of the Temple was greatly exaggerating the importance of a quick victory, not regarded as a battle by other writters?

He was not too sure of that theory. Such a victory would have been known and registered in all Europe. Since, according to the chronicle that was before his very eyes, the whole syrian army had been trapped and destroyed, opening completely the road to Nur-al-Din's new capital. He proceeded with the read and when he managed to translate correctly the next paragraph he was even more surprised.

"... And Reynald of Chatillôn took by surprise the fortresses of Nuysabbin and Aleppo and Edessa, with the troops of her wife, the princess of Antioch, giving signals that he was not behind King Balduin in bravery and recklesness, giving proofs of valour so great that some said it neared madness. While King Balduin desperated himself against the thick walls of Damascus, worried before the possible change of mind of the Seljuk Sultan, Reynald of Chatillôn reclaimed for himself the tittle of Count of Edessa, by right of conquest, ignoring the rights of the son of the ill-fated Josceling, dead long time ago in a turk prison and blinded cruelly, and the rights he had sold himself to the Byzantine emperor."

That confirmed it! Balduin DID arrive to Damascus! But... that was just not possible. And when he reached to the next document, another precious parchment, gracefully adorned with complex and coloured miniatures, a treaty signed by king Balduin and Reynald of Chatillôn themselves, he noticed his hands trembled...

[Lucius Sulla]

World would be an emptier place without excellent MES AARs such as this. You Spaniards seem to be spiritually linked to the Medievals (eh, MFigueras?).

Well, we try our best If I ever manage to help repairing the Iberian situation in CK, I will feel then truly happy with myself

Certainly Obelixeke and MFigueras, among many others, have managed to do the very best mod for EU2. The Mongolian Empire Scenario is certainly one of the most carefully and precisely prepared piece of fan work (and very hard work at that) I have ever seen. And certainly one of the most inspiring.

[Anzu]

*Drool*

Give me more!