It was a dreary, cold evening in the wastes of the Holy Land.
Alan’s army was battered, bleeding, and worse – defeated. Though the sight of man aiding man through the arid grounds of Palestine filled the Duke with some cheer, nothing could erase the terrible defeat they had suffered.
The Sheik of Beirut had proved a fearsome foe. The Duke was fooled like a naive animal into every conceivable disadvantage. Despite superior numbers, the Crusader army was easily routed – something Alan had never witnessed. At least, Alan thought, there were some friends to be had in this land. The Bretons were fleeing north to Tripoli. Luckily for them, the Sheik of Tripoli was an ardent Shiite and hated enemy of the Sunni Sheik of Beirut. With cautious but open arms, the Sheik of Tripoli fed and tended to the Crusader army.
The Sheik Lewis Isa awaited the Crusaders outside the city of Tripoli – whether in victory or defeat. Though he knew that in the event of triumph, only a messenger would be have been sent. Encamped outside Tripoli, the Crusaders were humbled and uncharacteristically quiet. As the leaders of the Crusade and Sheikdom met around a campfire, Lewis Isa finally garnered some nerve to inquire about the campaign. With rough and thickly accented Latin, the Sheik asked-
“How can Turki Yaseen achieve such a victory? There are so many Crusaders here, more than I could possible field.”
While Alan simply stared into the fire, Count Louis de Rennes jumped at the opportunity to answer for him-
“I suppose, we are not yet use to the ways of desert combat.”
The Sheik of Tripoli was visibly unsatisfied-
“Allah does not favor this expedition, it is clear.”
The Sheik rose with all the grace of a Saracen-
“My home will still be yours, Christians, just know that I have begun to lose heart in your objectives.”
Lewnis Isa then left the camp, his heavily armored guards in quick pursuit.
Unmoved by the exit of the Sheik, Louis turned to Alan with unsettling humor. After a few moments, the Duke finally answered the question everyone was wondering-
“We will just have to wait for Jermen and Daniel. Hopefully, all has gone well.”
“Certainly.” Louis replied, before taking a vigorous bite out of Arabic bread.
Nikolaz, being adept at blending in, timidly emerged and asked the Duke his thoughts-
“Father, how do you think Count Daniel is fairing in Cyprus?”
Alan’s lips pursed in thought-
“I have no idea – I only know that Jermen is a fine commander. It is why I sent him there.”
Nikolaz’s spirits seemed to be dampened.
“If only Brient were with us today,” Alan added solemnly.