A warrior's end for a warrior.
The last years of the life of Balian d'Ibelin were far from quiet. The unquenchable greed of both Muslim and Christian for the Holy Land ensured that wars broke out aplenty. With this came the strong desire for able commanders to lead the armies of Jerusalem. Balian would have been in a prime position to exploit this desire, had it not been for the death of King Baldwin, who passed away as a result of losing his hand in battle. While Baldwin lost his life, Jerusalem lost its King, Balian also lost his position as the King's Marshal. To add insult to injury, the Muslim Emir of Ascalon, Sa'id, had been able to exert enough control over his demense to declare himself the true ruler of Ascalon, leaving Balian with just the title of Count of Beersheb.
Ascalon was no longer seen as a Christian Duchy, instead seen as a Muslim Emirate.
With the sobering realization of how tenious the position of his family was in the Holy Land, Balian began to arrange dynastic marriages for his sons and daughters. His son Baudoin married the Duchess of Tripoli, and his first son Hugues married twice. The first was to Yolande, the baroness of Ibelin, who gave him a son, but died on the birthing bed. The child died soon after, and the title of Baron of Ibelin passed to Balian. Hugues second wife was Peronelle, the Countess of Irbid, another landholder in the Holy Land.
Baudoin and Hugues marriages ensured that the d'Ibelin family would inherit further lands in Jerusalem.
While his children set about rasing families, Balian threw himself into fighting, as it was all he knew. His service in the wars against the petty Emirate to the north of the Kingdom of Jerusalem went largely unnoticed. The day Balian was captured came at a shock to him. He had been leading a troop of horse to reinforce the seige of Appelo when Arab camel-riders had descended upon them. The horses had panicked, and Balian was thrown from the saddle and captured.
Balian had been lucky in that he could raise the funds for his ransom. Other lords could not, and quickly died imprisoned.
He was able to meet his ransom by the fact he had been diligent in ensuring Beersheb was ran efficently, and the taxes paid and tarrifs collected. He returned to Beersheb two months later, somewhat poorer, but somewhat more smarter.
During this time the Kingdom of Jerusalem underwent significant turmoil. King Baldwin had been succeeded by Queen Plaisance, who hardly reigned for a month before taking ill and passing on. Her sucessor, King Guillaume, was a excellent leader for the Kingdom. He moved swiftly to strengthen crown authority, which earned him the dislike of many vassals, but needed if the Kingdom was to endure the constant wars it embroiled itself in.
It was hoped the Guillaume would prove the strong King that the Crusader state needed.
It was around nine years into Guillaume reign when Balian, a much older and wiser man, heard word of another Crusade, again for Ascalon. The old man grew the dream of being able to reclaim his dukedom, returning to his previous prosperity. At once, the old man returned to Beersheb, and raised every man he could from Beersheb, and sent word to the Barrony of Ibelin to march at once for the city of Ascalon.
The Third Crusade was what Balian hoped would propell him to regain the title of the Duke of Ascalon.
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23rd of Febuary, 1170 AD
Outside the walls of Ascalon
"God, I am too old for this Henri." Balian complained to his marshal. "I once fought a great battle here many years ago. God, I doubt you were even born then..."
"And may you win many more, my lord." Henri was as typical a crusader as you could find. Third son of some minor French lord, he hoped to make a name for himself, like his lord Balian.
The two sat ahorse, as the two great armies crashed together. Two armies, two religons, but only one victor. The entire might of Egypt had been roused against this crusade, and twelve thousand men made for a impressive sight. The Crusader army was about the same size, a patchwork quilt of the banners of all of Europe.
The battle joined. Balian sat to the rear of the right flank, his own host only around eight hundred men was detailed to act as to screen the far right flank.
"My lord, over there. Dust." Henri pointed to a cloud of dirt being raised some distance off, caused by movement of horse through the dry landscape.
Balian had not even seen it, age had not been kind to his eyes. "Very well. Form up! Form up men! FORM ON ME!"
The troops rearanged themselves as commanded. Balian gave simple curt instructions. He would lead the horse to cut off the enemy attack, while Henri led the infantry around to envelop the enemy horse. The troops set off, Henri leading the troops on the direct path, with Balian swinging around in a wide movement to get ahead of the Muslim horse.
The heat, the dust and this confounded helmet, thought Balian as he rode. Sweat stung his eyes, bluring his already poor eyesight. He was ahead of the enemy now, and he turned his horse to face them. When he was content, he simply drew his sword and lowered it, as he had a thousand times before.
Funny horses, they have, thought Balian, as the two groups closed. Oh God, camel riders! The two groups crashed together in a horrible crunch of men, beasts and mail.
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When Henri brought the infantry to fall on the Muslim flankers, most of Balian's horse had been cut apart. The Muslims were so intent on looting and cutting down the surivors that the infantry took them unawares, and slaughtered most of them, though most managed to escape.
Henri walked through the carnage, as his men looted the dead and granted mercy to man and beast alike. The stench of blood filled the air. Lord Balian could not be found, he was not one of the group of horsemen that had banded together in a group to win free of the Muslim host. He must be around here, somewhere, he thought. Then he caught sight of him.
He had not went alone. A dozen of his men lay around him, three times as many enemy lay around them. Old Balian, it was a fitting end, at least, he thought. He was made for battle. Henri prised his sword from his lords hand, knowing that it was his duty to present it to Hugues, his son. Henri looked up, gazing away at the center of the battle.
He swore. The Crusader center was broken. The battle was lost. With at best a few minuites before Muslim troops were upon him, Henri ordered his men to carry the wounded that could walk, kill those who could not, and to sling his lord over the back of a stray Arab horse.
Balian d'Ibelin, first of his name. Warrior, Crusader, Father.