It was a strange feeling. He was a stranger in a strange place. And the berbers, people who in the past were alien to him, now were almost the closest he had to kin. As he slowly rode down the valley, he thought of the past. He was only 17, and his past was more colourful and exciting than that of many men. Even nobles. Born as a bastard child to someone very important, he received education that was reserved only for the best. Later he was rejected, and forced to the streets. There he made a career as a thief and rogue, they called him λευκό λύκο. Clad in white arabian silks he roamed the Thieves highway, as the rooftops of Athens were known. Already, the capital of the Greek empire was bigger than Constantinople before it's fall to the Turks. And so, the city was filled with riches. For those who knew where to look.
He brought his horse to a halt as something alerted his senses. Years of depending only on yourself make you notice things you normally wouldn't. And so it was now. He could see silhoutes of men running between the rocks even though it was almost pitch black. He slowly drew his sword, making sure he didn't make any noise and whispered into his horses ears. "Slowly
Roach*. Slowly." As his horse started to move forward he looked about. It seemed the men, whoever they were, have taken their places as there was no movement whatsoever.
An ordinary man wouldn't even see the attacker. But he was far from ordinary. The man that leapt on him from above ended his journey impaled on the simple lenghtened Xiphos of the lone rider. The sword was one of the most common in the Empires. The attacker was not. Clad in a black tunic, the word
saracen beemed from him. Another thing that put him out of place in that desolate place was the fact that he had no ring finger, and in it's place was a long sharp blade covered in what appeared to be poison. He threw the man off himself along with the sword and put his horse into a gallop. Short shouts from around him confirmed that the attackers were arabian. Following the shouts, 4 bolts missed him by a few centimetres. He desperately tried to make the horse go quicker, he valued his life pretty much, and wasn't keen on giving it up to the Hashishins.
Fortunately for him, the assassins didn't have horses with them, they probably didn't thought much of their target and thought they didn't need them. It turned out they were wrong. As he and Roach left the valley behind, he thought of the man that ordered the assassination. It was clear who did it. There were only one people who had enough money and knowledge to employ the Hashishin and know of his existence at the same time. It was sad they didn't understand he wanted nothing to do with them anymore. A sigh of relief came out of him as he saw lights. He finally arived at his destination. Now that he reached Murcia he could rest, and hopefully have some fun while the assassins runned around in search of him.
He slowed the horse to a walk and continued onwards while the lights of the city shone in front of him and the Roman banners flutered on the wind.
=This narrative took place a few years after the rest of the update=
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Even thought the future of the invasion looked bleak, the romans prevailed. This was caused by what for them was Gods help, for the castillians an unthinkable betrayal, and for the franks a simple example of their foreign politics. Grabbing occasions as they went by.
In 1164 A.D. the Franks invaded the rocky north of Spain, the castillian forces split which was their biggest mistake. The northern half was swept away by the massive veteran armies of the French empire, while the southern half was harrased by the moors while the romans used their old strategies and cut off their supply lines. The spaniards were destroyed by the moors which were later destroyed by the romans. Castille was pretty much split into half in a few years.
It was in 1167 A.D. that the kingdom of Castille and León signed peace with both of the attackers. The treaty of Córdoba "relieved" them of all but the northern-west of the peninsula. The french were once again victorious, while the romans could recreate the bureaucracy and intrigue they so much loved in a new
Basileia ton Romaion.
Iberian Peninsula
1167 Anno Domini
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*
Roach
*λευκό λύκο - White Wolf (According to translators. Would be nice to have confirmation about grammar and such.)