NavAARra: A little kingdom modestly refusing to go down

@ AllmyJames, Luis thinks he's continuing Sancho's work. And they're suddenly finding that poor Sancho was "sneaky" as hell, so the sneakiness has just begun.

Re the queen. She's a young, overly-capable Irishwoman cooped in frozen, dry Burgos while her husband goes gallivanting around after vengeance and cryptic master plans. As Sancho would have said, What can go wrong?

Re the Pope... no comment .

@ Enewald, hmmm. Well, we have until 1115 more or less to see if the event crops up . It hasn't cropped up by 1111.

@ Kurt, it's the good genes . And the haircut. Grandson Juan gets rid of it. Sadly.

Haven't been able to try it out yet , but I will. He's getting nastier and nastier... I'm not sure he'll be happy with the trade, but then, that's half the point

July 1090
On board the Royal Navarran Ship “Subjugator”, Mediterranean Sea

Hello, my Queen,

How’s things back home? Did you have a good time at the Sanfermines? I hope you remembered my counsel. Don’t stand downwind from the peñas in the bull ring. It’s bad for the hair. And I hope you didn’t let Garcenda dance in the streets after midnight. You know what I mean.

Anyhow, I’ve had a lot of time to talk with the team on ship. Even Amat, before sending him on as vanguard. I’m coming to some conclusions regarding Dad’s secret master plan.

First, I think we’re doing what he would have wanted. He was clearly preparing the ground for this, even if he chose to do it in an unorthodox way. “Punishment expedition”, sure… but he got the arabs weakened.

The question is, why? OK, so the Pope had managed to push him to crusade. But he could crusade closer to home. Why the buildup? Why Sicilia? Well, I think I understand that part, but what was he trying to achieve with this?

Can’t help thinking it was this crusading that killed him, too. He was no warrior, least of all at his age. If the Pope wants Jerusalem, let him come and get it himself, I say.

And second, I think the key to the plan is in his writings: “There can only be one”. He scribbled it everywhere, but especially on copies of treaties. It seems to have been almost obsessive. And I don’t know what it means. Nobody does. Only one of what?

I used to think it meant “one Jimenez king”. But he kept writing it in later years, after the second French war and even while he was whittling away at the Central European duchies.

Well… anyhow, keep thinking about it. I’m sure your bright mind can throw some light on this.

The sailor on the top mast has already sighted land, so the fleet will probably land soon. It’s been a long trip, but we’re here at last.

It’s been five months since we launched the “Spearhead Regiment” from Palermo. Dad would have loved Amat’s phrase, don’t you think? This time the Marshall led it himself. And the arabs thought it quite funny.



Up until we declared war on every sheikdom in the Emirate of Jerusalem. That’s when all their allies jumped in, including the King of Egypt. Not a bad kick at the hornets’ nest. But Amat was already within striking distance by then, and Egypt wasn’t.



The Second Battle of Acre didn’t go exactly like the last one. Amat smashed the gathered sheiks.



Amat had instructions to hold Acre and make it fast, and so he did against all comers in the following months.





His little Spearhead Regiment must have kicked every sheikdom’s posterior in those months.



And he did it with remarkable economy of troops, bleeding the arabs dry. Those Palermitans fought very hard, and very dirty… and then Amat is no slouch either.



Picture it if you can. That band of Sicilians, in their forts around Acre, assaulted on every side by never-ending troops from every sheikdom in the Emirate of Jerusalem. With no way to retreat and the sea on their back. Knowing that the legions of the King of Egypt are on the way. And yet, here’s the message I received at the start of July:




Well, after all this battering, any enemy would be going more than a bit soft, I gather.



I’m almost sorry to spoil the fun by crowding their beaches.



But then, at least we're bringing him some presents from Navarra.

Well, Cris, I should go up and don my armour. We’ll be landing in Acre in a matter of hours. It won’t be easy, but I hope to be writing next year from Jerusalem.

Best,

Luis

Year of the Hégira 482, month of Shawwal
Given in the desert of Tharasset, near Azougui

Asalaamu alaykum, al-Malik al-Hadeed Luis ibn Sancho of the Navarrans. I write to you from my tent in the Berber desert to warn you.

I am not a Berber, but an Arab. My people come from Yemen, and we have crossed Africa to conquer in the name of Allah the Merciful. We conquered the dark Ghanans, we submitted the nomad Berbers, and we would have conquered the degenerate al-Andalusians if your father had not come to fulfill the prophecy. What prophecy, you ask? The one I write to tell you about, I answer.

When my own father arrived in the lands of Ghana and defeated the heathen, he took to him all the magicians and witches of the land, and had them slayed as the Prophet prescribes. For my father was harsh and faithful, and a bit on the testy side. Only one woman stood his hand, for she spoke words that he respected. Those words were heeded by the tribes, even if we their Arab rulers didn’t believe them.

Then your father came, and you after him. And now I hear that your new flag is heading to the sacred Al-Quds, the Bayt ul-Maqdis, the old Īlyā. And I fear the prophecy may be true, as the one I made to you last year. For thus spake Sarah al-Tustrah in the days of my father:

The sands will turn, and the hour will come,
And the first Iron King will ride into you,
And by killing him, you will be defeated.
The sands will turn, and the hour will come,
And the second Iron King will ride into you,
And the iron in your chains will be iron in his soul.
He will brook no rival in all the world,
And build a new one in his dreams.
He will try to unite the Franks and put the Northmen under yoke,
He will ride from the West to usurp the seat of al-Abbas,
And the paynim of the land will bend, if not break, before him.
He will follow the ways of the Maseehi, he will bring the rule of Yasou Al-Maseeh,
But he will drive the Maseehi Caliph from Rum.
The sands will turn, and the hour will come,
To take or break your desert crown.
And the year your son dies
Will be a year before the Last.


Those are the words of Sarah. Our marabitum and mullahs are worried, thinking that something that you will do will cause the End of the World. The Q’ran tells us that it will be a time of huge strife, countless death, when the Sun rises red in the West, and in Arabia the false Djall will fight the Mehdi until Yasou Al-Maseeh descends in Al-Qus, to cleanse the land and rule our people. All the believers will then die, and only then will Allah destroy the world.

Your red flag is riding into Al-Quds from the West, and in Arabia the one-eyed evil Shi’ite Old Man of the Hashishin has risen in his fortress of Alamut to mislead the righteous. But the rest of the signs have not yet come to pass, so it is not yet a sure thing.

So my marabitum and mullahs believe I should warn you, and stay your hand.

Myself, I don’t much care if the world ends or not (the will of Allah be done), but since they must be preceded by wars in which the muslim and you maseehi fight side by side, I ask you please to remember me and send for me, for I would like to be at that battle. It sounds like enormous fun.

Salaam, Iron King Luis, al-Malik al-Hadeed. Peace be unto you. Or not. But be warned.

Ali, King of the Fighters, whom you call al-Murabitids.

@ AllmyJames, thanks . I'm thinking of featuring Ali a bit more, if I can. So expect more Wikipedia-cooked Arab . Re the "palermitans", they're the bunch of Sicilians from Palermo. The ones in the dark hats and menacing looks.

@ Enewald, well, Luis is not technically a crusader (hasn't taken up the Pope's cross, he's freelancing a bit), so who knows . And since half his domain is muslim and prospering, one may hope. Remember his father believed more in taxes than in conversions.

And that is supposing he wins . He could lose.

@ enf91, you just earned Ali a reprieve for as many years as I can . Or until the sands turn.

Indeed a certain (pagan) vassal who was Duke of Finland just became High Chief of Finland through inheritance. And remained a vassal. I used to think High Chiefs were like Kings and there were only three tiers of titles, but it seems there can be four if you mix pagans and christians (count/chief, duke/high chief, high chief, king/high chief with knobs on). In other words, a duke can be vassalized to a high chief who is in turn vassalized to a king. I wonder if there's a way to do that to the Sultan .

July 1090
Given at the Royal Palace of Burgos

My King,

I hope you enjoyed the boat trip and are enjoying your time in Outremer with Amat by now. Since you ask (you insensitive lout), things over here have been rather intense too. At the end of April, as expected, my time came and I gave birth safely to a daughter.

She’s so frail and so delicate. Not like our sons at all (even Garcenda is afraid of them). Probably the cold Burgos climate does not quite agree with her. Or maybe it’s the responsibility of being a princess and not just the daughter of a duke.

Anyway, in your absence I consulted Dowager Queen Agnes and she’s been christened Justa. That’s Castilian for “Just”, and your mother says she hopes it will be an omen for her character.



What I hope is that she’ll start getting stronger soon. And that you will be back home with us soon too. The rest of the family is positively fawning on her, but it's not the same.

By the way, a heavy package arrived yesterday marked from “Dowager Queen Doña Muña Mayor”. It seems it had been left in deposit with some monks at Schwyz, to be delivered to “the heir of Sancho Jimenez the Third of Navarra, if he has any who wear a crown”. We had a hard time prying the package from Garcenda when she found out who Doña Muña was. And from the court bishop. Seems he wanted to dump the package in holy water just in case, or at least to put a stake through it.

Come back soon. Preferably in one piece.

Yours,

Cristina

took a while till I got it.

Next is the last update that I have scripted. The following years are still a mess of screen captures, so the update speed may go down.

Suggestions as to the Plan, the Plot, the Prophecy, the revenge, and any of the protagonists welcome .

November 1090
Jaffa Castle, Outremer

Hello, my Queen,

I know I’m late, but things have not quite worked as I expected. We are making headway over here, but the cost of it…

It all started as a lot of fun. We arrived when Amat and his boys were besieging Acre, and he really appreciated the presents we brought from Navarra. Indeed he put them to a most innovative use.



I mean, putting the bulls on the catapults was probably nothing the defenders were expecting. The ones that got on top of the walls made a fine show, running along it around the city, with the arabs jumping off in front of them, left and right.



The ones that fell short of the walls started chasing our own soldiers, to the merriment of the defenders.



The ones that fell inside the city probably ended up as kebab themselves. We were all having so much fun that we forgot to follow the assault.

On the following morning we had a different sort of laugh, though. I received a Papal bull. Not the horned kind, but almost as scary: he’s gone and decided to call the Crusades off.



Yes, that’s right. After all these years, the first serious expedition gets within catapult range of the Holy City, and he calls the Crusades off. I was dumbfounded.

So I left the troops to play with the locals on their own, and called the Council to session to discuss it.



Chancellor Simonis, Sozzo’s wife, said it was the logical result of the international situation, where the implosion of the Holy Roman Empire was causing nobles to think of expansion closer to home. Steward Jimena, my second cousin, added that it was understandable in the light of global financial restructuring brought about by the changes in international commerce routes in Africa and Southern Europe. Amat just said something unprintable and went on carving his name in the table with a curved knife.

Then spymaster Laura, the one that Dad had a sweet spot for, coughed and said: “It was to be expected, Sire. He’s probably got wind of the Plan and wants to stop you.”

“The Plan?”, says I, caught unawares.

“Yes, the Plan”, she continues, lowering her voice. The rest of the Council draw forward on their chairs to listen and look furtively around them. Even Amat looks up from cutting his toenails with the knife. “The one that the good King Sancho hatched and you are carrying forward.”

“Ah!”, I say, “you mean the Plan”, and nod sagely, to gain time.

“Yes, Sire. The one that calls for the conquest of Jerusalem and the control of the Papacy, before you-know-what.”

“Oh! Ahem. I mean, sure, yes, before you-know-what. So… and the Pope doesn’t want you-know-what to happen, does he?”

She smiles a knowing smile. I copy her fast. Soon everyone around the table is nodding knowingly at each other and smirking in a silly way.

“So”, says Amat, putting his boots back on, “we ignore the blooming bishop and get on with it, is that it?”

I glance at Laura, who smiles slightly, and manage to put a brave face. “That’s it, Amat”.

And we went back to work. Mind you, I’m still trying to figure out a way to get Laura to explain the matter without letting out that I don’t know what the hell she was talking about.

By August, once we had rounded up the stray bulls, we conquered Acre.



And spent September happily trouncing sheiks around Jaffa and Tiberias,while the reinforcements arrive at the secured port of Acre. Our forces concentrate on the coastal sheikdoms, although we also put a diversionary force to harry Jerusalem.



On the night of September 16th, Amat’s Sicilian boys mysteriously slipped a horse’s head in the bed of the Sheik of Jaffa, and he surrendered. Of course, while they were at it they also secured the rest of his castle, looted the town, raided his secret wine stash, relieved his treasury, and took all his wives and daughters for a ride, so he may have been a bit demoralized.



About then, I received the news that you had married cousin Alfonso to the daughter of the Sheik of Albarracin. Smart move. Jamila brought the news herself, and Jimena left in the same ship.



But by October we had worse news. Two of the ex-Murabitid vassals had become really enthusiastic with us; they'd converted to Christianity, with their whole families, and (this was less smart) declared war on our enemies. On Egypt, for instance. So while my forces were besieging Tiberias, Ascalon and Jerusalem, the King of Egypt was putting all his weight on the two little counts.



He was not subtle about it. When he overran Irbid, he sent me the count and his family. In a sack. Minced.



We started November much better. We have taken Tiberias, and liberated Ascalon. Indeed Jerusalem looks within reach.



The Egyptian army is worrying me, though. Their King has gathered most of his regiments in a single force and they can crush any of our divisions if caught separate. Not to mention those war-crazy ex-Murabitid counts.

So, considering that the enemy has left his homeland without any garrison, I've mobilized our Venice troops and sent them to visit Alexandria. They will take a time, but hopefully we can hold the fort.



I'll write again as soon as I can. Give Justa a hug for me. And box the boys about the ears, just in case.

Please send over that package of great-granny Muña. It may come interesting while we're sieging some place or other. In return, I'm enclosing a very amusing letter that our old friend Ali of the al-Murabitids sent earlier in the year.

Oh, and don't think I didn't notice the way you handled the rebellion of the Count of Sens. It's good to know I can leave the home government in your hands.

Best,

Luis