Chapter XX: The Siege of Alexandretta
April 1219
Osmond's plan was simple but risky; Yasir, being a known merchant around the region, travelled to Alexandretta with a few dozen men disguised as a caravan bringing in goods and started trading with what little they had managed to loot from the bandit's village. Three days later Osmond laid siege on the city, bombarding it with trebuchets from nearby hills. There were two primary gates to the city – one in the north and another situated in the south, and a smaller entrance at the eastern wall, mainly used by nearby farmers for bringing their goods to the market.
While the Hetoumis were to launch an assault against the northern wall and its main gate, Yasir and his small band of infiltrators were supposed to take over the small eastern gate and open it for Osmond's men, hidden around the countryside and the mountains nearby. If it would succeed, the Armenian forces could surround the city's defenders and proceed towards the castle, which was heavily fortified on its own and might require full concentration of forces. Besieging the city until it would run out of supplies was out of question, as it relied heavily on trade and the Cypriot navy was far too small to effectively lay a blockade on the city state.
***
“Who is it?” a man guarding the door inquired.
“It's us, let us in, quick!”
The door was opened and three men entered the small and dilapidated house, closing the door behind them with a haste.
“Sir, we believe the assault has begun”, one of the men gave his report, “there's a sense of panic in the streets and crowds are on the move, fleeing towards the safety of the castle walls.”
Yasir raised his eyes from a table full of papers, parchments and a large map he and his men had drawn of the city: “Just in time then. Tell rest of the men to get prepared, we will move out in a moment.”
After the siege had begun, Yasir and his group of 'merchants' had had to find a safe place to hide in as their presence was obviously suspicious. As a boulder from the Armenian trebuchets had crushed half of a local merchant's home, he had decided it was better to relocate inside the castle walls for the duration of the siege. His abandoned house provided excellent location for the reconnaissance force. They were 22 men in total and the merchant's home was large enough to accommodate them all, albeit it was quite cramped inside.
“Are you sure you can convince the guards to join our side, Nikephoros?” Yasir inquired the Greek they had saved from the bandits.
After returning to their camp, the man was given his own tent where he was looked after by an Armenian priest. He regained his strengths in a matter of days and revealed that he, Nikephoros Petraliphas, had been a high-ranking official in the Frankish court controlling Alexandretta, but had ran to conflict with the ruling dynasty over matters of religion.
The city had experienced a great influx of pilgrims and fortune seekers during its Catholic occupation, and as its economy became less and less reliable of the native Greek population, the crusaders started gradually instituting laws that gave benefits and privileges to the Catholic migrants.
As a devoted member of the Eastern Church, Nikephoros staunchly opposed the oppressive laws which made him popular among the commoners, but also gave him plenty of enemies inside the court.
One day he was sent on a diplomatic mission to the Armenian principality. He was told to use the dangerous coastal roads instead of travelling by sea as was customary, which made him suspicious. Yet, there was little he could have done to protest if he wished to keep his position. Nikepohoros suspects the bandits were paid to capture him as the guards fled as if they knew what would happen some time before the ruffians caught him. Now he had been freed, and was more than grateful to be able to help the Cypriot forces capture his home town and liberate it from the crusaders.
“Don't worry, Saracen”, Nikephoros answered to Yasir's question, “Just leave it to me. Security of the eastern gate is left to the militias, local men who hate the Franks almost as much as they hate the heathens.”
He had been cleaning a sword given to him and put it back to its sheath: “Believe me, most of the men in this city will be happy about a Greek takeover.”
He rose up and pointed towards the door: “Let's move.”
The men attracted little attention on the panic-filled streets and alleys as they headed towards the eastern wall. Although Osmond's army wasn't intentionally bombarding buildings inside the walls, plenty of rocks missed the walls and spread destruction upon hitting homes and businesses.
The gate was quite small; just wide enough for a carriage to ride through. It had been tightly sealed in case of the attackers trying to brake through it. There were no guards or soldiers on the ground level, and Yasir's men suspected they were staying in the safety of the gatehouse's small barracks.
They proceeded to the high stonewalls and opened an unlocked wooden door to the barracks. There were two sets of stars; one leading straight to the wall above them and another, windy one, to the living quarters and its small mess hall. The group of infiltrators sneaked silently up the stairs until they came to another door.
“Wait here and let me handle this”, Nikephoros told them and knocked the door.
Someone came to the door and tried asking something from the other side, but the heavy door effectively silenced him. The Greek knocked louder and again someone tried talking to them. Frustrated Nikephoros started banging the door loudly until it was suddenly opened. A man, apparently a cook judging from the stains of blood and grease on his clothes, was standing in front of them with his eyes wide open and a shocked look on his face. Without hesitation Nikephoros grabbed the poor man and knocked him unconscious.
“I thought you were going to lure them to help us?!” baffled Yasir barked.
“I don't want to take any risks. Let us first see if we can win the soldiers to our side.”
There were three floors in the gatehouse. First one acted as a storage and entrance to the building while the barracks were situated on the second floor. As the living quarters were empty the men headed towards the third floor which acted as a guard tower. It was also where the gate's opening mechanism was situated.
There were a few dozen guards at the top who were taken by surprise and quickly laid down their weapons as Yasir's men surrounded them. Apart from their commander, most of the men were local commoners who had joined the militia and town guards for relief in tax or that little extra income and were easily convinced by Nikephoros to abandon their duties and go home.
The gate was opened hastily and a cloth burned on top of the gatehouse – a sign for Osmond's troops to begin their assault. At instant armed Armenians revealed themselves from their hiding places and rushed through the tiny gate into the city.
The defenders at the northern wall were completely surrounded, but didn't abandon their positions immediately; partly out of bravery and partly because they seemed to have no way of escaping. The battle turned ugly as the two armies clashed in the streets and on the wall. The Franks were squeezed into an ever-shrinking space and the ground along the walls was littered with blood and bodies. But not until the main gate had been tore open by the invaders did the outnumbered crusader army surrender.
Osmond led his men towards the castle which was surrounded by people who had been trying to get in, but denied entrance due to lack of space. The defenceless families were ready to submit to any fate imposed upon them by the Armenians.
The Catholic court knew the castle's defenders would rather risk their own lives in an uprising than that of their families in a desperate attempt to break the siege. After a restless night of quarrelling the castle gates were finally opened early the next morning and the soldiers laid down their weapons.
The crusader commanders were waiting for Osmond and his accompanies in the throne room and symbolically threw their swords to the ground as the victorious stepped inside. The emotions could be easily read from their faces; confusion, despair and anger over betrayal.
“My father always warned me not to trust you Greeks”, said Nikephoros I, the Duke of Antioch and head of the Poitou family, pointing out they had been allies just weeks ago.
“I'm not a Greek”, Osmond answered with a smirk, “and you can't blame us for seeking justice after the treacherous murder of my sister.”
The Duke opened his eyes wider and you could sense a glimmer of hope on his face as he responded: “But... but that is... We didn't... This is just a big mistake! A misunderstanding! We never...”
Osmond silenced the old man with a swift blow with a fist against his face and forced him on his knees.
“Enough of your pathetic lies!” he yelled and ordered two men to hold the Duke still.
“This will be the trial for your crimes against our family and state and I am the law”, he took off his gloves, “the judge”, his sword was unsheathed, “and the executioner – you are hereby sentenced to death!”
The Duke's head was separated from his body with a single strike from the Norman's blade.
Yasir wasn't happy with the swift delivery of justice and the whole situation seemed fishy to him. The Duke's innocent reaction to Osmond's mention of his murdered sister was convincing, but he knew better than to question the marshal's decisions.
The heir of de Poitou's, Frédéric, who was framed as the true villain, managed to flee and wasn't seen in all of Christendom ever again – at least by his true identity. It is probable that he fled south-east to the deserts and either malnourished or was caught by hostile forces. Rumours say he converted and settled somewhere near Baghdad as a farmhand.
***
Feasts were arranged around the city to mark the victory over the crusaders. The Orthodox denomination and its institutions regained their dominant position and the numerous pilgrims were driven from the city by a popular demand.
But alarming news soon arose when the officers found an interesting piece of document from the vast collection of letters, orders and messages seized from the Poitous.
Apparently the Franks had managed to send a plea for help to their Serbian allies as the siege began, calling for immediate offensive against the Principality of Cyprus-Cilicia. Although Serbia was a relatively small kingdom, it could match Cyprus-Cilicia when it came down to raw power. The king of Serbs, Braslav, was a greedy man and even the numerous failed attempts to expand into their neighbours' lands, especially Bosnia, hadn't curbed his ambition – it was probable his army was already on the move towards the realm of the Komnenoi.
Osmond's orders were clear; Yasir was to travel back to Cyprus by sea and report on their success, as well as warn of the new, looming threat in the horizon – ships would be sent to scout the waters to the west. The marshal himself would continue back to Seleucia by land and could afford to leave only a small portion of his men to secure the newly-captured city.
The Norman decided to hand the governorship of Alexandretta to Nikephoros Petraliphas due to his popularity in order to avoid possible uprisings and the chaos, common during the months after a siege.
The Hetoumis' were angered by this move; both had been promised spoils of war which they would never see. In order to calm them down, Osmond allowed them to pull their armies from the campaign and return home, radically shrinking the men available to counter the possible Serbian offensive.
