The Free Company and the Last Bastion of Empire: Book IV

[Craig Ashley]

December 6, Rhodes - Morning

The pacing was getting to Yusuf. He and Huran Shur'tu were waiting for the Greek to return from his meeting with the Hospitallers. Biting his tongue and deciding to tolerate the Mongol's nerve racking movements, Yusuf sat down on the grass and waited. At least he's here. Where are the Bedouins?

The Bedouins were the farthest thing Shur'tu's mind. Like a song you can't stop humming, the muscular balding man could not stop thinking about the meeting. Strategy, it was the only possible reason for the meeting. A noticeable tightening of his jaw meet this thought. He, Huran Shur'tu, had not been invited. The politics of the situation dictated so. It did not matter that he and many of his men stopped practicing their faith years ago. The Hospitallers were as famed for their intolerance as their skills upon the battlefield. How much of this famed reputation is myth and past lore, he wondered.

Worse yet, there was the simple fact his presence was not needed. His command was down to a mere 90 men. A far cry from ten years ago, on the Russian plains. He looked over at the Moor sitting quietly. There was little doubt he was also acustomed to a larger command. Perhaps that was why they waited here, seeking to know the exact plans, and the Arabs slept in their tents.

Rising to his feet, Yusuf walked over a small ways to watch the men practice the new formations. Joining him, Shur'tu grunted. “They have improved much.”

“Yes. I was just thinking how strange it is to see a Moor ride with a Mongol.” Yusuf turned curious to see the steppelander's reaction.

Laughing sharply, Shur'tu turned to Moorish leader. “I was just thinking how strange it was to see a Mongol ride with a Moor.”

 

[unmerged(9600)]

Noon, December 6th, 1438. Rhodes

Antonio was feeling much better. Who would have thought that a simple common cold could have him laid up for a month? He had been fortunate to catch the ship to Rhodes. As always though, once on the sea, he felt much better.

Sergio had gathered the Swordsmen and they were exchanging techniques with the defenders of Rhodes as they spoke. Most of the men had never been to Rhodes before, although Antonio and Sergio had, back when they were still in the employ of Venice. Now that he was feeling better, he had better start moving around and getting caught up...

 

[unmerged(4007)]

Strategy Meeting-December 6, Rhodes

"A very intriguing analysis. But I find it unlikely the Turks will let go of Constantinople for Teke's sake. to say that the Ottomans would desire nothing more than the destruction of the Empire would be an understatement.

Besides which, even with our combined strength, we would hardly be more than a nuisance to the Ottoman horde. It is said he has more than 50,000 Janisarries alone. They could swamp us in the blood of their strength alone. Let alone the elite forces he has at his control.

On the other hand, knocking Teke out of the war is a wise idea. And in any case, if we cannot save the Empire, we will need the seas to be kept clear, so your plan is of value, Captain."

"And what can you spare, Grand Master?" Captain asked.

"I will spare all we can that is not absolutely necessary to defend Rhodes. I can spare about 400 knights and 5000 men-at-arms." The Grand Master could sense his own men shifting with unease at this, but it had been his predecessor's idea--and in fact, one he had agreed with, if they were to hold Rhodes even, this was their last chance to turn back the Turks, and he knew it. "You will have to forgive my men, being knights, they have some difficulty with 'mercenaries,' and of course, your own, shall we say, 'colorful' past goes before you Captain.

Not to mention the past betrayals we in the east have had from Western 'allies.' No Turk has taken Constantinople yet, but others have. Forgive us the trepidation at such a fate befalling us. But we have no choice but to risk at this point. We are too small to stand on our own, we must unite with Byzantium, yourselves, and all others who would fight the infidel. You will have the men I mentioned, and all the ships not necessary to keep the sea approaches to Rhodes clear. That is what I can spare Captain, I hope it is sufficient."

 

[The_Hawk]

December 6, Morning

"That is what I can spare Captain, I hope it is sufficient."

The Cyprian leaned forward on his stick, clearing his throat as he did. "For what it's worth, Jean, I'll come to yer aid if Constantinople falls. Anything to give this lot a better chance." The familiarity he used when speaking to the Grandmaster surprised those who had not heard it before -- the Company men included.

The Grandmaster considered the old man's words briefly. "Your offer is a good one, Jonasz," he said, "but I do not see how I can spare more ships or men because of it. Your offer does not go into effect for months if not years, whereas our need here is immediate."

"Perhaps this'll 'elp convince you?" The Cyprian produced a sheaf of parchment which was passed down to the Grandmaster. "A thorough listing of every Turkish ship we could find. Cost me a few favors, but..." He shrugged.

While de Lastic looked over the documents, an uncomfortable silence descended over the room. Though the Company had already secured the aid of the Knights -- something of a triumph in itself -- the forces promised were far from a guarantee of victory, especially if the Turk ran to defend Teke. Finally, the Grandmaster looked up.

"Messieur LeClerc speaks truly -- the Turks seem to be drawing their ships toward Constantinople, with just a few keeping their sea supply lines secure. But Rhodes may yet be threatened. Begging your pardon, my friend" -- he nodded to the Cyprian -- "but there are no shortage of pirates in these seas."

The Cyprian slowly cracked a bent grin. "Ah, now, pirates... those I can take care of. Might cost me a few more favors, of course..."

 

[driftwood]

December 6th, Morning, Free Company camp

Annette reached over in her sleep, then groggily came awake as she realized there was no one next to her. Oh, that's right, the big meeting, she thought as she slowly opened her eyes.

As she chewed a hard biscuit, she mentally reviewed all the tasks she had to do today, not to mention the ones that didn't get done last night, plus the ones that were done incorrectly last night and would have to be redone today.

"Maybe I should just take up embroidery after all," she muttered as she left the tent.

"Whuzzat?" Milo asked as he nearly collided with her.

"Milo, how many times have I told you not to spy on me in the morning?" Annette asked with a smile.

Milo looked at her in befuddlement. "Never, madam," he said in confusion.

Annette sighed. "Never mind. Let's get our most unpleasant task done first - checking the Moor's possessions."

Milo nodded and they headed for the latrines, which Omar and his men were still working on in a most desultory fashion.

Omar took a break from "supervising" when she arrived. "Aw, look, if it ain't lil Miss Annette! You're all grown up too - in all the right places, if you know what I mean," he added with what was supposed to be a winning smile and wink.

Annette mentally counted to five. "Milo and I are here to take the inventory of your things, so if we could just go do that ... ?"

Omar nodded agreeably. "Ah, you men keep working. No slacking off now!" There were snickers from the trenches. The three walked off.

Picking up his earlier thread of musings, after a few moments he told Annette, "I mean, sure, you've put on a few pounds here and there, but it looks like most of 'em ended up in the right places ... maybe a few too many in the back, but, y'know, alot of men go for that, myself included..."

Annette came to a halt and she knew that counting all the way to a thousand wouldn't help.

"Omar," she said sweetly, "that's very kind. You know, Milo and I can handle this. But I do have a task that just begs for a man of your mental acumen."

Omar tried to hide his look of surprise and motioned for her to continue.

"We're a bit low on meat and I have the name of a butcher in town. He has a load all ready for us - you just need to go pay him and bring it back."

Omar nodded slowly. He didn't see how his intelligence and wit were required, but it beat digging latrines. "How much are you paying? I'll save you a few coins," he said generously.

Annette smiled again. "35 gold for the whole lot."

Omar almost choked. "35! But even in Venice you wouldn't pay more than 30! And even if *you* would, *I* could get it for 25!"

Annette's expression didn't change. "Oh, but he's a nice old man, and a friend, so I don't mind paying more than I have to." She took out a pouch and began deliberately counting out the coins.

Omar began to sweat. "T-That's lunacy! Look, after I talk to him, I'm *sure* he'll lower---"

"No, no," Annette cut him off. "Give him all 35. I'll be talking to him later, so I'll find out if you give him less. After all, I did make a promise, and once something is said, it's impossible to take back." She looked at him hard, the smile gone now. "Off on your way now."

Omar stomped off miserably, the unnecessary gold clinging against his belt. Was she angry at him for something he'd said? It's not like he'd lied or even stretched the truth. That much. Omar, Omar, he reprimanded himself, You should know better than to speak the unvarnished truth to a woman...

 

[Norgesvenn]

Morning, December 6th 1438. Rhodes.

Vincent and Enrico nodded as Alv sketched his rudimentary plan for following The Bear.
“So we stalk him… and find out who he meets… then what?”, Vincent asked.
“Then we go for them. Catch them. Bring them back here. And force some compensation out of them”
“We’re three, Alv”, Enrico said.
“No. We’re three. Plus Hendrik Johan with six men and Fyrsil with six. They’ll follow us, and when we move in, they’ll block their chance of running away!”
“Sound thinking for being you”, Enrico said. Vincent grinned. Alv rolled his eyes, and found himself a hood. He would need that as his blonde hair was instantly recognisable in the city.

“Okay, lads. Make sure your swords aren’t too obvious. Use the capes to cover them. And follow about fifty or sixty paces behind us, okay?”

Reinaud watched as the patrol got ready.
“Going for the gusto, eh?”
“Not really. But I don’t want any unpleasant surprises today. Has The Bear gone?”
“A moment ago… you’ll catch up with him easily. Nice hood, by the way”, Reinaud said.
Alv just smiled back, and motioned for Enrico and Vincent to follow him.

The Bear was easy to follow. His huge back was instantly recognisable even in the markets they were crossing. Alv looked over his shoulder to make sure that Fyrsil and Hendrik Johan were following them. They were.

The Bear entered what looked like an office of a merchant of some sort. The three stalkers went to the door as well. The door was too thick for them to hear anything, so they looked for another entrance. The back of the house provided them with what they needed, and through a huge window, the three entered the building. It was some sort of kitchen, and Vincent picked up a meat cutter. He grinned at Alv, who shrugged and waved for the two to follow him. The door creaked, but they heard no footsteps or other indications that someone knew of their presence.

They skulked along a corridor, and soon they could hear voices.

“… you’re completely useless! I gave you money to hire help. And what do you do? You spend it in some tavern, and try to do it all by yourself. You…”
“I’m sorry, signore… but I did my best. I know I should’ve…”
“You’re sorry? What do you think I am? I have orders to stop the Free Company from leaving Rhodes, and you screw this up like some… ah… my benefactors in Venice won’t be pleased, Alex, that much I can tell you. This could get Sforza on our back…”

At this point Alv, Vincent and Enrico stormed through the door. The two men inside the office were caught completely unawares, and soon they were facing the floor with Vincent grinning above them and poking his sword at them every once in a while.

“Go through the papers, Enrico… I’ll have a chit-chat with the Venetian here…”

The Venetian was a balding man in his late forties. He was perhaps a usually staunch man with an aristocratic look. Right now, he was a snivelling man on the verge of a breakdown.
“Hey, Alv… the men outside have arrested a few other fools as well!”, Enrico said, looking through the window.

“Ah, Good. Well, well…”. Alv sat himself in front of the Venetian. “Care to enlighten a simpleton like myself as to why you are trying to sabotage the Free Company?”

The Venetian said nothing.

“No? Sad. I hate using violence…”
“Say something, signore!”. Alex The Bear shrieked, and Vincent quickly prodded him with the sword. “They’ll torture us. He’s using some bloody eagle. And there’s a Byzantine with them… I don’t…”
“Shut up!”, Alv said sternly. “Your boss is refusing to tell us what he knows… I have to make him”. Alv unsheathed his sword, and let his fingers stroke the edge. “Nice and sharp. Useful for decapitating people. Say, Enrico, remember that Moroccan that wouldn’t talk? Even after we cut off his tongue, he kept shouting… hehe… well, well. What do you say? That pinky finger with the ring looks nice, doesn’t it Vincent? I’ll start with that. Raise the bugger and move him to the desk. Oh, wait… perhaps we shall use the meat cutter instead?”

Vincent grinned, and nodded.
“That’d be good. Those rings sure look valuable…”
“And I’ve found several thousand florins here. Along with a letter from one ‘Signore Don Martino Severelli’. That wouldn’t be the Severelli of the Council of Ten, would it?”, Enrico said viciously.

Finally, the Venetian broke down.

“I’ll talk… certainly I’ll talk. If you spare my fingers. And my life”
“Fair enough. I think. I’m not sure about them fingers yet, but… I think we’ll spare your life. You don’t look like you’d taste good anyway. You know, we Northerners eat people after we kill them”, Alv said, winking at Vincent, who seemed to have a hard time not bursting into a laughing fit.

“Severelli and some other merchants in Venice feel that trade with Byzantium is too difficult. And that the Byzantine cause is lost anyway. So, they want to trade with the Turks instead. The Free Company’s arrival in these waters weren’t to their liking. So I was instructed to make sure you didn’t leave the island. And then…”. The Venetian shot a vengeful glance towards Alex The Bear. “And then this nincompoop managed to screw it all up!”.

“Right. We’ll take you both to see Captain. I am fairly sure he’ll be pleased to see your ugly mugs”

Outside, Hendrik Johan’s men held two other Venetians.
“They tried to flee… but we stopped them. Searched them as well. Knives, daggers and swords”, Hendrik Johan said.
“Good job, young man… where’s Fyrsil?”
“At the back of the house”
“Get him Enrico. Now, let’s go before some nosy Knight comes along!"

 

[unmerged(6528)]

December 6th, Morning - Strategy Meeting

"Messieur LeClerc speaks truly -- the Turks seem to be drawing their ships toward Constantinople, with just a few keeping their sea supply lines secure. But Rhodes may yet be threatened. Begging your pardon, my friend" -- he nodded to the Cyprian -- "but there are no shortage of pirates in these seas."

The Cyprian slowly cracked a bent grin. "Ah, now, pirates... those I can take care of. Might cost me a few more favors, of course..." The ol Captain leaned back and smiled, while everyone else shifted in their seats, not sure where to take the conversation next.

Lochlan kept a bland expression on his face, but behind it, thoughts were racing back and forth. 5400 men, 400 of whom would be knights? How was that going to work,? Who was going to take orders from who? This was like that odd situation the company had had with Sforza's army, one that made everybody somewhat uncomfortable.

Stifling a sigh, the Lieutenant instead watched the men around the room, it wasn't going to be as easy to get this started as it seemed, not a chance.

 

[J. Passepartout]

"You know, Hussein, I would have liked to go after those people who stole the weapons." "Why? You are trying the same thing: to sabotage the Free Company." "No. I am not. I am trying to sabotage Harry Seldon. Beyond that, is is in my best interests to reach the Turks, and the same for the Free Company, and the same for the Turks."

"Hussein, I have a letter concerning the business I had the last time we were in Turkey. Do you think I should deliver it myself, or use a courier?" "What is in the letter?' "None of your business." "You have been leaving me in the dark on this matter." "That is my right. But out of the kindness of my soul, I tell it will get us money even without being employed by the Free Company." "Hmph"

 

[TheF]

Morning, December 6th 1438. Rhodes.

Fyrsil stood behind the house, two people were waiting out-of sight, two others beside the door and yet two more were sitting behind some shrubs aiming their arrows at the door.

Fyrsil stood in front of the door with his hand on his sword.

The door opened.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" exclaimed the man that came out, as he drew a small knife.

Fyrsil drew his sword, the man tried to stab Fyrsil in a rather clumsy way. Fyrsil stepped aside, turned around, grabbed the man by his arm and put his sword at the man's throat.

"Drop your knife!"

The man complied.

Enrico came around the corner and told him to come with him since the business was finished.

"You can hand him over to Sgt. Alv, provided that he's hungry!"

Fyrsil and Enrico laughed as the man turned pale.

 

[Valdemar]

The Night between the 5th and the 6th, The sea south of Rhodes

Frederik was sitting on the deck of his hired galley looking up on the big sail and the dark night sky above. The ship was quit, it was well past midnight and only the gentle rhythm of the oars and the swishing of the sea along the hull could be heard.
They had caught a good breeze once they had cleared the island and only a third of the oars where manned, the rest of the crew fast asleep on the deck or on their benches.

Frederik was thinking of the last few months and his encounters with the mercenary leader. It was a rare luxury to have all this time to think, usually he was to busy to sit and reflect on anything that didn’t concern his enterprises directly.

He was wondering if he should have stayed on the island and offered his service on a more permanent basis. He had been asked and paid to help when he could. That was why he had gone out of his way to go to Lucca and taken the detour to Rhodes on his way to Alexandria.

Frederik made an inward shrug, there wasn’t much he could do about it now and he would have missed this opportunity had he chosen to stay on the island. He leaned back and looked at the stars.

After a while he went below and fetched one of his bags and sat down on the deck again. He couldn’t quite shake the thought that there was something he should have done to help Captain. The Company is a small army on an island, going to a hostile shore, no matter what their final destination was. They are dependent on both the Knights and the Venetians, two basic ingredients of a conspiracy that can easily spell disaster for the mercenary band.

Frederik pulled an oiled rag and a whetstone out of his bag. If he couldn’t sleep he might as well do something useful.
He pulled his throwing knife out of his right sleeve and inspected the edge. Being born left-handed he had trained his whole life to use his right hand like everybody else, but being left-handed had its advantages. More than one adversary had been taken by surprise when the knife came from the left hand and some didn’t even bother to search the right sleeve.

Frederik started using the whetstone on the knife.
It wasn’t that he really cared for the soldiers, it was their lot in life to die on foreign soil, but he was beginning to like Captain and that Annette had made some really nice moves in the market. Besides having a mercenary band owing you favors wasn’t the worst thing a man could have.

Frederik finished with the knife and replaced it in the sleeve. He looked at his sword. It usually hung on his left side, but he didn’t use it very often, his fights usually took place in confined spaces where even a sword as short as his was more of a hindrance than a help. He put the sword back down and picked up the knife that hung on the right side of his belt.

He looked at the knife and first a scowl then a sad look crossed his face.

The knife was relatively large and heavy, of a style that had gone out of date several generations ago. It was sturdy enough to ward of a sword blow, yet light enough to switch back and forth between hands and different positions and it was his favorite weapon in a close fight.

The knife was the only heirloom his noble father had left for him aside for money enough to get him a proper education. He toyed a bit with the knife lost in old memories, his fingers tracing the ornaments on the handle. Frederik found it ironic that the only gift from his father had been a knife so suited for his present occupation, the handle carrying one final surprise for him to use in a fight. It was as if his absent father had know what the most useful tool his bastard son would need in the future.

As the night wore on and the ship continued through the black sea the watch crew could see Frederik sitting on the deck lost in thoughts toying with a heavy knife.

 

[unmerged(9046)]

December 6th, Morning - barracks

After breakfast and morning drills, Tomas had some time to himself. He came back to his bedding and took out his weapons. He cleaned and oiled the already immaculately conditioned weapons. It was finally starting to seem real. for years, he had lived on tales of the glory of the FC expounded by his father. Now here he was in the FC, preparing for battle. He had no idea what to expect. He wasn't worried about the fighting. He wasn't worried about the conditions. He wasn't even worried about death. He was realy only worried about living the wrong way. What if he was unable to live up to the high standards of his father and his fellow soldiers?

He sharpened his weapons with renewed purpose and mentally went over the drills in his mind again.

This was the hard part, waiting for them to actually be heading off to confilct, to war, to their destiny....

 

[unmerged(4007)]

"Jonasz, I appreciate your offer. But I'm not basing the estimates of what we can spare on Pirates. You will already have more than enough ships to transport us to Teke or anywhere we might desire to go. And enough ships to ensure that the Turks could not try to harass us even if they desired.

As for men. I do not know what you were told our strength was, but if you did not notice by the way my Knights reacted, let me explain. I am offering every man who would not be absolutely necessary to keep up the appearance of presence upon our island home. We simply have no more to spare. I'd be leaving a tithe of our strength here--if that even--to maintain the security of Rhodes and to ensure our adequate supply. To increase the number of men I offer anymore would be to leave the citadel of the Knights empty. I could not even assure order could be kept here then.

Captain, I have to believe you knew that when I said that, you are a man well-versed in the military matters of our day. I am not holding back. You will simply have to trust me on that. Just as we have to trust you that no one will take advantage of the weakness of the Citadel while we are away.

So what say you, Captain. Do you like our offer or not? Because if you do, I must name our price in this bargain. We will aid you in your fight against the infidel. But we need to have an enemy of our own removed."

"And what might that be?" The Captain asked.

"We want the Company's assistance in the removal of the Pirates from the coasts of Teke," the Grand Master said firmly, "that is our price. No more, no less."

 

[EmprorCoopinius]

"And what might that be?" The Captain asked.

"We want the Company's assistance in the removal of the Pirates from the coasts of Teke," the Grand Master said firmly, "that is our price. No more, no less."

Severus stirred slightly, but said nothing. Bargaining. He felt like spitting to get the bad taste out of his mouth. Captain had said nothing about going to Teke, and while Severus could certainly see the military reasons for such a move....it ate at him.

The City. His City was in mortal danger, worse danger than ever before. It's light was about to be extinguished, and instead of being there, he was adventuring in the Mediterranean, talking of landing hundreds of miles from Constantinople. He had practically jumped at the opportunity to bring the Free Company east, but now....

The crux of the problem was one of motivation. All the men of the Company, good and noble though the majority may be, were mercenaries. To them, this was simply another contract, another payday. But for him, this was the last battle, the battle to save everything he held dear. Thirty one years of war and fighting, and his Empire needed him, and he wasn't there. He was fighting not only for himself, but for a thousand years of the Severus line, a thousand years of Roman rule.

Not here.

Silently, his face set impassively, he pushed his thoughts away and tried to return his focus to the present. This plan may very well save his City, perhaps had an even better chance of doing so than if he were standing on the walls of Constantinople right now. Still, he had his doubts.

 

[Faeelin]

Noon, December the 6th

Omar grumbled. “Alright, I’m here to pick up meat for the Company.” Surely here, on this little rock which was the hole of backward, fundamentalist, Christians, they’d heard of the company.

“Oh, alright. We have a few sides of dried beef, and,” the butcher leered, “some nice, juicy, pork for you.”

”Pork? For 35 gold coins, you can carry it down to the ship.”

“it’s very good pork,” replied the butcher. Gesturing to a side that was hanging from his shop, he asked, “would you care to try some?”

The two glared at each other, stuck at an impasse.

****************
Yusuf grinned, watching his men behind him. He released his spear, and it flew through the air, sailing into the target. Then he turned, and took his horse over towards Shur’tu.

“This formation might just work,” he said. “But should we run into heavy armor,” he trailed off.

Shur’tu laughed. “We’ll outrun it. I fail to see a problem. You Moors worry too much.”

”If you lived next to the Spanish for hundreds of years, you’d be nervous too.’

The banter went back and forth, and talk turned toward their past wars. Finally, Yusuf said, “I don’t know. I wonder what’s happening at the meeting with the knights?”

Shur’tu pondered. “For all their proclaimed holiness, the knights are warriors of gold, like us. They’re giving the captain their price, and he’s trying to figure out how to pay it.” Shar’tu laughed for a moment. “Unlike the wages the Captain gives us, of course, the Captain will pay the knights in blood.”

 

[Lord Durham]

December 6th, Morning - Strategy Meeting

"So what say you, Captain. Do you like our offer or not? Because if you do, I must name our price in this bargain. We will aid you in your fight against the infidel. But we need to have an enemy of our own removed."

"And what might that be?" The Captain asked.

"We want the Company's assistance in the removal of the Pirates from the coasts of Teke," the Grand Master said firmly, "that is our price. No more, no less."

Captain leaned back in his chair. From the corner of his eye he saw Severus stiffen. He could imagine the thoughts of the others. He continued to look at de Lastic. The man had assumed an air of quiet confidence. Captain leaned forward and tapped on the map, "How much time will this consume? That coastline is well known for its rocky inlets and bays."

The Grand Master's eye flitted from Captain to Jonasz. "We have spent much of our resources locating their main bases. They are at Kas, Kale, Simena and Kekova Island. Kas is furthest, while the other three are situated close together. We'll concentrate on Kale, Simena and Kekova Island. I envision using the combined fleets to sweep the pirate ships landward, like a closing net. We will land three separate forces at each location, kill as many as we can find, burn their ships and supplies and remove their capability to raid for as long as possible."

"Years, we hope." Another knight put in.

"I see. And where do you want us?"

The Grand Master grabbed a quill and placed it on a narrow strip of land laying just off the coast of Lycia. "Kekova Island. There are a couple of villages on the south coast and a series of caves on the north."

"Caves."

De Lastic nodded. "We feel that may be their main depot."

The Company men all leaned forward to eye the island. Jacques asked, "These caves, they face the mainland?"

"Yes."

"So their entrance should be easy to seal with ships."

The Cyprian grunted. "That will be no problem. These pirates use small light drafted boats that will be no match for our galleys. It will be like herding sheep. Of course, that's the easy part."

Lochlan glanced at Jacques. "Here it comes. What's the hard part?"

The Grand Master shrugged, "I'm certain it's no problem for your men. The island is very rocky, tough to climb and filled with lots of hiding places."

Severus still said nothing. Roos commented, "Our Moslem cavalry will love this."

Captain was in planning mode. He mumbled, "They'll have to leave their mounts behind. Where's the safest place to land?"

Jonasz pointed, "That would be the south beach." He shrugged when all eyes turned on him. "I was there - years ago. If you land on the south beach and sweep inland I can close off all the island escape routes for you."

Captain pursed his lips. "And what of you, Sir Jean?"

"We shall attack Kale and Simena."

"I see. And who shall led this expedition?"

"The Grand Master sat straight. "Why, I will, of course. The Knights do not shirk their responsibility."

"Of course not." Captain regarded his men. "Very well. We shall help you rid the pirates in return for your help with Teke. You, Sir Jean de Lastic, will lead this campaign. However, the Teke campaign will be led by me."

There was a collective gasp from the Knights as they broke into sharp discussion. One of them stated loudly, "The Knights of St. John will never submit to mercenaries!"

Captain ignored the man, and caught the Grand Master's eye. "Sir Jean, we have already established that the conquest of Constantinople will not be in the best interests of the Knights. I have assembled a force that comprises people from many countries. With all due respect, I don't think they will follow your orders as well as they would mine. I have been drilling my men with some new tactics to counter the horse-archer, and I don't necessarily have the time to pass the knowledge onto you. Nor do I think you would want that knowledge. Much of it has to do with crossbows."

The noise from the Knight's side of the table rose again, until the Grand Master slammed his fist down, hard. He caught Captain's eye and held it for some time. Finally he nodded, sharply. "Agreed."

* * *

The Knight's Way

December 6th, Noon - Company Camp

The officers entered the camp. As they strode toward Captain's tent they could feel all eyes in their direction. Lochlan chuckled, "When do you tell them the good news?"

Captain sighed. "Ah, hell. The rumours will fly soon enough." They reached the entrance to Captain's tent and stopped. Captain turned to face the growing crowd. He held his arms up. "Today we have secured the aid of the Knights of Saint John!"

There was a short cheer that died away as Captain kept his arms up. "Our price for that aid is a bargain. The Knights have asked us to help them clear out some pirates! We'll leave in two days!" The officers entered the tent to yet more cheers. Outside, the men developed an extra spring to their step. They were going to fight - finally.

 

[driftwood]

December 6th, Lunchtime

Annette had personally prepared a sandwich for Jacques. This was so unusual that Jacques simply sat there, staring at his wife in confusion.

"You will be leading men into these .... deathtraps of the pirates?" she asked trepidatiously.

She had known her entire life that Jacques would be in danger as a member of the Free Company, but somehow, this seemed to be the first time it really hit home. It was the first large-scale action the Company had seen since Jacques had become an adult.

"Yes, well, I command the reserve, but I expect to see action in such difficult circumstances," Jacques answered in confusion.

Annette tried to smile and blink back her tears. "But, you'll be careful, right?" Without waiting for an answer, she hurried off.

Jacques looked at the other officers, who had been studiously avoiding the appearance of eavesdropping.

"I would go talk to her," Severus muttered, looking embarassed.

Jacques flushed. Probably right, he thought, as he hurried after her.

 

[unmerged(4007)]

"Grand Master, how can you agree for us to work with--no, FOR, mercenaries ? This smacks of folly," Sir Robert de Tocquville had at least the civility to wait for the Company members to leave before launching his tirade. But now nothing would stop him.

"Very simple, we need their aid, and he is right, how do you expect me to command men I do not know with tactics I am unaware of?"

"Bah. We know you, what tactic are you unaware of? You have friends of your own in Florence, you know what they have in mind."

"I actually do not know entirely, and piecemeal is a bad way to teach tactics. I'm sure in the end, we will have considerable tactical freedom."

"Really, 'tactical freedom.' Why does that not sound truthful to me? And then you have left no more than 50 knights and 500 men to guard Rhodes while we are on this fool venture!"

"Actually a little less than that of each." Jean said with a bemused smirk. "The Turks will not be coming while we are away. They have their mind set on Constantinople. Nothing will dissuade them from it while the Emperor still defies them. All we need do is maintain the semblance of a defence and to protect against any spies."

"And he uses infidel soldiers. Did you hear that?"

"Of course I did, so what, if the infidel want to kill one another, let them. You think there are no Christian mercenaries killing for Turkish gold right now? Sadly, you would be mistaken. Just because we are true to our faith does not mean everyone else is. The decision is made. I've allowed you to question it long enough. Thank you for having the courtesy to do so in private. But it is finished."

"Very well, Grand Master."

May the Lord forgive me if these mercenaries betray us, for the Order never shall, Jean Le Clerc thought to himself as he gazed out over the harbor. Then he turned on his heel and went back to his study, he had a campaign to prepare.

 

[HJ Tulp]

December 6th, evening, Free Company Camp

Baron Hendrik Johan was walking through the camp when he saw Serg. Alv, Hendrik Johan walked to Alv and asked:
"Sergant, I would like to request a transfer to the heavy or light cavalry, Frysil told me that I could borrow his horse. So may i transfer?"

 

[Norgesvenn]

December 6th, Evening. Free Company Camp

Alv was taking in the events of the day. A lot had happened. The Venetian connection was established, and they even knew who was behind it. Alv rubbed his chin, and tried to empty his head, as Baron Hendrik Johan walked up to him.

"Sergant, I would like to request a transfer to the heavy or light cavalry, Frysil told me that I could borrow his horse. So may I transfer?", the young Baron asked.

"Uh... yes, I have no objections. I'll inform Captain of the changes. May I ask why?"

"It's just that I'm more comfortable on a horse, Sergeant", Hendrik Johan smiled.

"Ah... well, me too, really. But I'll stick with the infantry".

"I bid you a good night, Sergeant!", the Baron said and walked away.

"An ale or two would've been nice now...", Alv mused. But, he'd be damned if he was to walk into the city again.

 

[The_Hawk]

December 6th, late afternoon

Maria came upon the Cyprian as he sat on the dock, polishing his old falchion. It came as something of surprise; while he always wore it, she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen his sword drawn.

"So, did the Company manage to gain the support of the Knights?" she queried.

Jonasz nodded, slowly. "They did, but at a price, and one which we must largely pay." He looked up. "The pirates of Kekova, they want them removed."

Maria eyed her adopted father. "They will have just light skiffs..."

"...yes..."

"...but you suspect there may be something more you haven't heard about."

"Exactly."

They shared a long glance before the Cyprian turned back to his blade. "Get in touch with MacManus," he said, "and tell him to meet us there. If the pirates prove more formidable than expected, we may have need for his... unique talents."