Outremer: the Syrian Crusade

Now that I think about it, the backstory to this one will be very important. So make it 1417-1422 (big improvement, I'm sure).

It'll take me a little while to prepare the first part. Be patient, but expect it late today or afternoon tomorrow.

[Note: I'm absolutely sure you've never played this country, since it is a user defined one.]

INTRODUCTION

A crusade was a medieval king’s most useful tool for support. Enemies would leave him alone, vassals would maintain fealty, sins would be absolved, land would be taken without repercussion because infidels owned it. Two hundred years of these both limited Europe’s power by killing off knights and introduced the catalysts of change.

By 1417, Europe was on the brink of the modern age. France, England, and Spain, three of the most important European countries had developed national identities, while Germany and Italy remained divided into a thousand different parts. Infidels threatened the last remnants of the Roman Empire. In Milan, Rome, Florence, and Venice, great thinkers developed a new way of thinking called the Renaissance.

But old ways remained. Dynastic wars plagued France and England. Armies marched back and forth across the countryside, devastating the land. Henry V slaughtered the French nobility at Agincourt, while a young child named Joan was still growing up in France, destined for greatness.

Many knights tired of this interminable series of wars, already eighty years old. Ten thousand banded together on 5 January 1417 to call for a new Crusade. Pope Martinus V gave it his blessing. Genoa supplied the ships. Twenty thousand of all countries, but mostly French, joined them.

Our story begins: Jean de Clermont, leader of the Crusaders, stands on the docks of Genoa, along with his second-in-command, Louis Mollier, and prepares to address the Crusaders.

[NOTE: Once I get into the Holy Lands (very end of this post), posts will likely become longer.]

CHAPTER 1

“Our Holy Father has given us the blessing to reconquer the Holy Lands. Thirty thousand of you now stand on the docks. With God’s help, that shall be more than enough! I have few words for you today, but I shall have more when we arrive. Pour Dieu et le Roi!”

“Pour Dieu et le Roi!” the knights repeated.

De Clermont stepped down. “Such enthusiasm. Such courage. Let us hope that it is enough,” he spoke to his second in command, Louis Mollier.

“It will be. As you said, God is on our side.”

“Was He on our side in the Second Crusade? The Third?”

“He was in 1099. Let us seek, then, to repeat the work we made then. We will win.”

“I can only hope that is not overconfidence.”

“I can only hope what you speak is not pessimism. With that kind of leadership, then we will lose.”

“Let us see what they can do. Thirty thousand is a great host. We may need every one of them.”

The knights began to load onto the ships. Genoese sailors prepared them for the journey. Stores were prepared, men filed on, and a cardinal from Rome came to bless the ships. Once the ships were completely ready, de Clermont put a horn to his lips and gave one loud, powerful blast. The church bells in the town rang out. People lined the harbor and cheered. The sailors put oars to water, and the boats shot out into the Mediterranean Sea.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“There it is. Ascalon, the great citadel. Ruins now, but we can build it back up. Giovanni, do you have the building supplies ready?”

Giovanni Fossano nodded. He was charged with building wooden palisades to keep the enemy out until the knights were ready.

Mollier came up. “Are you sure about getting rid of the horses back in Nicosia? Without cavalry, we will be at a disadvantage.”

“Horses eat. Horses drink. We cannot afford to waste supplies on them. We may be able to pick up camels, which are used to the deserts. The men won’t like them, but they’ll understand. Prepare the first landing party.”

“Yes, sir. Come along, Fossano.”

The two left, to round up those chosen to land first. They realized that if they ran into any reasonably large force (they didn’t expect to, but there was always the minor possibility), they were done for.

An hour later, when everything was ready, ten boats splashed into the water. Nine of them carried fifty knights each, plus rowers. The last was taken up by some of the Italian engineers hired to build makeshift fortifications. The knights wouldn’t stay here for long. Jerusalem was fairly close to where they were. This was their main goal. As the boats touched land, the knights and engineers piled out.

The crusade had begun.

The knights found the ruins empty, at least at first. As they began to explore the destroyed city, one of the knights fell down, an arrow having struck him in the head.

“Quick, quick, back to the ships!” Mollier shouted. “Get some more men!”

The rowers gladly did so, eager to leave the field before they could be in real danger. As they did so, five hundred Saracens left their hiding-places and charged the knights. Two hundred arrows flew through the sky; a hundred knights fell. The remainder began to shout for retreat.

“Retreat?” cried Mollier. “Where? We have no place to go!”

They made their stand in a tower that still had walls up to four feet high. Saracens came at them from all sides. Mollier jabbed a sword at one, who doubled over as he gained a cut through his stomach. Another jumped on the wall, only to lose a foot, fall over, then get a sword through the heart.

This lasted for quite a while. Finally, after losing fifty of their own number, they succeeded in getting a sizable group into the tower.

Numbers took their toll. Knights began falling fast. Guillame d’Toulon, a personal friend of Mollier’s, fell with a slice in the neck. One of the Italian engineers had a nose and ear cut off, lost an eye, and suffered a nasty wound between the legs before a Saracen split his head in two. In an hour’s time, all that remained was Fossano, Mollier, and three other knights.

The Saracen commander called something out in Arabic. The enemy stopped. He said something else. One of the Saracens, who knew Italian, called out, “He asks that you surrender!”

When Fossano translated for the rest, Mollier grudgingly gave a nod. There was no need for further blood to be spilled. Fossano relayed this sentiment to the Saracen, who translated for the rest.

The five were grabbed by Saracens, knocked out, and carried away. The entire group got on camels and rode off.

Five minutes later, twenty boats carrying a thousand knights total landed. They were too late.

- - - - - - - -

Jean de Clermont was furious. “How could we lose four hundred and fifty knights? We have God on our side! Perhaps Mollier was not being cautious enough.”

“He was cautious enough,” one of the knights replied. “Not even Godfrey de Bouillon could have gotten out of that situation.”

“Godfrey would never have gotten into that situation!”

“There was no way of knowing. Had you been in—had any man been in—that same situation, the same result would have been achieved.”

“I don’t believe it. I would have been far more cautious. I would have sent away for more knights—“

“So did Louis. When the boats were away, the Saracens would have attacked, and you would have suffered no better a fate than Louis did. And we need you far more than him.”

De Clermont growled, but nodded. “What shall we do now?”

“Without the Italians, we can forget about rebuilding the city. We need engineers for that, and we have none. We need to start moving. Land all the knights, with their supplies, and strike directly for Jerusalem. They won’t expect us to make so quick a move. We can take the city without too much trouble.”

“Not without those engineers. We may be able to take some port town where we can ferry supplies in or out. Are there any nearby?”

“None large enough to service any reasonably sized fleet. We may be able to take some town for a base, however. Gaza is none too far. We can get there within a week without tiring the men overmuch.”

“We shall do so! Get the men ready to move in two days.”

A screenshot, while you wait for the next part:



The Middle east in 1419

[A little bit of a short addition to this one. For those of you who are following The Catholic King, don't worry, I'm working on that one.]

“There it is. Gaza. Doesn’t look like much, sir, does it?”

“It will be enough, Charles,” de Clermont replied. “Do you see any soldiers around?”

“Fifty, sir. With camels. They don’t seem too interested in the town, though—only their own camp.”

“Odd. Well, we can get the town fairly easily, then. Once we have that, the camels should flee. And if they don’t, we kill them. Easy enough.”

“Yes, sir. The men are ready now.” Charles smiled. “This’ll certainly be fun, sir, won’t it? Killing infidels, looting--”

“Don’t get carried away, Charles. We don’t want to alienate them too much. Do what you must, but don’t kill every Muslim you come across. We’re here to conquer, not murder.”

“This here’s a war, sir. There’s going to be murder no matter what. Might as well not attempt to contain it.”

“Keep saying that, Charles,” said another soldier, “and you’ll find a rope around your neck—or, more likely for around here, some steel in your stomach.”

Charles flushed. “Sorry, sir. I’ll try to keep the men from killing everybody on sight. God be with us!”

“Yes. God will be with us.”

Soon, the knights were running down towards the city. The crusade was now a war in its own right instead of an isolated battle.