Ye Allah Al-Akhbar Tournement for the noble. Egypt

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Ye FIELD OF HONOUR​

The Jousting world champion, Sir Rowan Andrews, peered through his open visor at his protege. His squire was due to try for his spurs, but he wasn't very quick. He had better explain the Tourney procedure again.

"Now listen boy!. And try not to get snot on your visor!"

"You....... and your horse, go to the Judges table and sign in. It's the table with the three men and shields adorning the rack behind them...... Got it?"

The youth nods.

"You tell 'em your name, nation and position. All right? If you see any shields above the judges' heads of those you hate, you may knock their displayed shield and inform the judges, to be matched against them."

The youth looks doubtful and takes a gulp of air.

"Then boy, you will retire to the pavilions to prepare and converse with other contenders."

"Clear enough? If you learn nothing else in your pitiful life remember this. The judges' word is final! Conduct yourself as a noble and according to the code of chivalry!"

"If a mount is knocked from under you, you only have one spare. For others, you need to ask another contender to lend you one. SO DON'T LET YOUR MOUNT GET HURT!"

"IF............. Heaven forbid, you ever want to wear a ladies favour, it is a minor matter."

"Either bring a lady to champion, or, if you enter and win the 'Tip' at the beginning of the tourney, give the crown to any maid here that takes your eye. But if you want to do that, wait until you grow up a bit. You'll never remember to enter her name as you sign in, and you'll never enter or win a 'Tip'."

"If you ever do, you'll get to crown the 'Queen of Love and Beauty' who bestows the laurel wreath of victory on the champion. If you ever manage that you will have a great advantage over the lady and her father, and I will eat my lance........ Sideways"

By now, the youth's knees are trembling and a sweat has broken out on his pale brow.

"The Lord Master Herald runs the whole show. So respect him or be removed. His word is law upon any jousting field of honour. Even the host would do well to remember that."

"Oh. And keep your "poker" in the rack. No 'off-field' duels are allowed as this is viewed as bad form; an insult to both the host and chivalry.... Clear?"

"Here's the points system. Take it away and read it"

The boy stares at the lists and nods. Taking the parchment to peruse he goes to suit up. Today he was to become a man.

 

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Championship History​

Nation/Date/City/Host/Ultimate Champion (+?)/QoLaB.

England/June 1432/Warwick/King Henry/Sir Jauffrey de l'Espallier Knight Hospitaler(+1)/Princess Royal Annabelle of England

Gelre/April1433/Zuthpen/ Duke Willem of Gelre/ Sir Basilerius of Eastern Rome (+1) /Marije the maid
(Due to injury he no longer holds this title. From July1437)

England /April 1437 / Launceston/ Edmund, Duke of Cornwal/Jonker Jeroen van Barel of Gelre (+1)/Maia, princess of Moldovi

Jonker Jeroen van Barel died leading the 1st Mounted Gelran regiment in Prussia fighting the Russians in sept 1441.

Byzantium/ 1440/ Sparta/ Despot Theodore/ Sir Magnus von Grünenwald (+1) / Zoe Paleologus

Sir Magnus von Grünenwald died in challenge of personal combat at the Pskov Tournament

Pskov/ 1443/ Izborsk Fortress/ Prince Pavyel Andreyevitch Polotovski/ Sir Vladimir Eevanivich Melnikov(+1) named knave knight/ Princess Yekaterina Polotovskaya.

Portugal/1446/Oporto/Duke Alfonso of Viseu/Sir Hans Rokycana(+1)/Lady Nanci Nunes

Moldavia/1450/Izmayil/Voivode Petru II/Sir Hans Rokycana(+2)/Lady Cinnia


Champion levels of station.

Champion Knight. (No effect) Has won and lost a title.
(+1) Champion of Renown
(+2) Champion of Exemption
(+3) Legendary Champion (+1 morale in battles as HoS)

- JOUST RULES APPENDIX -​

NEXT PARAGRAPH NOT RELEVANT THIS TOURNEY​

Lord Master Herald: Sir Paul Rebelodicus
Deputy Master Herald: Sir Harold De Fallennite (Previous: Sir Eric. Head presently on pike preceeding tourney vanguard)
Castelan /Constable: Thomas of Hookton
Tournament resident champion: Viscount Sir Mordain Blackcloak. The Black knight. Only ever seen when at the lists.
Officer of the Watch Sir Rowan Andrews.
Tounament priest: Friar Pete Afile.

Misc.:

Osteller of the "Riders of a golden age" social pavilion: Goodman Torric Brothbreath

Madam of entertainment tent: (Cat'o'nine tails) Elizibeth Rumride

Girls: (9) Foremost whores..... Jasmine and her girlfriend Annalise.



A record of those injured in the past:

Sir Guillaume d'Arsac -1 to all future rolls
Sir György of Trnava -1 to all future rolls
Sir Manuel de la Braga -1 to all future rolls

Misc.

Muslim Lord Ali A'ku, Turncoat Hospitaler, reward offered for murder and mayhem. (In England)

 

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- JOUST RULES APPENDIX -​

Ye Allah Al-Akhbar Tournement for the noble. Egypt

​

Lord Master Herald: Sir Ali A'ku

Deputy Master Herald: Tashufin Nazir ad dir


Constable: Ali ibn Hassan

Tournament resident champion: Asad ad-Din Shirkuh said to be desended from (Salah al-Din Yusuf Ibn Ayyub). The Black knight. (+3 champion of renown.) Only ever seen when at the lists.

Officer of the Watch Ali Khalid ibn Sharaf.

Tounament priest: as Salih al Mustali.

Misc.:

Osteller of the social pavilion: Ben Al din


========================================

Ye Allah Al-Akhbar Tournement for the noble. Egypt

​

Realm: Abbasid Caliphate (Egypt)

City: Cairo

Host: Calipah Hakim bin Kamal Al-Abbaci, and General Ali Al-Mahdi

Local Contending Champion: General Ali Al-Mahdi

Lady Present: Lady Zomoroda, wife of the Calipah, and princess Sarah, neice of lady Zomoroda
Venue and Prize Description: Grand Abbasid fort outside of Cairo, Saladins crescent star palace.

The prize is the favour of the Calipah of the Abbasid Caliphate,The hand of lady Sarah (if the knight wishes), a 500 Golden Dinar chest, and a small mansion in Alexandria.

Prerequisites: Contenders must be of noble birth, any faith is accepted, however sunhia who spread their scriptures (convert) will be banned, same applies to christians and other faiths.That he who can respect these, will be accepted

Description of Venue:

Built in the Ayybid times under Saladin, the Palace still kept some of its old splendor in the times of the crusaders.The castle was built in 1193, one year after the victorious armies of Egypt captured Jeruslem from crusader hands.At first glance, one would think it serves no martial purpose except a mansion for a high noble, or an armoury for outdated weapons.

Yet it truth, the fort is manned with several powerful towers, and was one of the only forts to stand in the face of the crusaders in their later invasions of Egypt.The surrounding plains, green and blessful from the always bountful Nile, add a sense of Romance.The Caliphate chose the fort for its distance from the bustling cities of Cairo, so as the citizens wouldnt be startled by the fights which would eventually ensue in her courtyard.

To many perhaps, the Castle would intimidate her christian onlookers, but rest assured, Egypt only wishes friendship.For the Abbasids have established a small chapel for the christian knights , in the spirit of tolerance.

In the horizon, one could almost make out the city of Cairo, with her towering minarets, and her Abbasid black flags flirting the winds.The occasional caravan or traveller would bustle into the fort, but fear not, all is peaceful in Egypt.

On the Eastern bound, is a small oasis, surrounded by tender palm trees, in full bloom , heavy from the load of dates dangling from her Yems.

Farther away is the small town of Keylok, an old Arab town, with a small coptic community.They greet you with jubilation, happy of your presence.

Know this guest of Egypt, our geusts are the children of Egypt, fear nothing of this good land, and enjoy the fruits she bears.

 

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Ye Allah Al-Akhbar Tournement for the noble. Egypt

​

Sir Ali A'ku was once a knight of the Order of St. John. Captured by Arab pirates in an action near Constantine, he was held for ransom. During his captivity, Antaios as he was then known, eventually became convinced that God and his catholic liege had forsaken him. Turning to the religion of his captors, the knight realized that Jesus had been followed by a third prophet, Mohammed, and that his understanding of God had been incomplete. Accepting Allah as his true god, Antaois took the name Ali A'ku. His ransom was paid by a young emir of Tlemcen and Ali was made in to a hero. Most recently, he shocked the Christian world by appearing at a tourney in England and narrowly escaped arrest. He has pledged an oath to defend the new Sultan, at the request of the Abu'l-Abbas Ahmad II who originally he planned to accompany to the Hedjaz. However; his duties for god and his lord have brought him to an interesting point.

A month ago he was un officialy released from his duties to run a jousting tournament for the Muslim world that was to be hosted in Egypt. A strange thing..... But Inshallah. His honour and faith would be stretched to thier limits. The only thing that was a match for how he was feeling before this great venture was the senese of foreboding that had acompanied his circumbsition. Being christian in his youth he had not had that small flap of skin "tampered with". As his old nurse had stated. But in manhood he had stood before the Imrams and other preists and had the ceremony witnessed by the nessasary parties. He winced even now at the memory......... A prayer, a firm grasp of the offending membrane, stretching and pulling....then a flashing blade, blinding light of thought and sight acompanied by a fountain of quickly staunched blood. A week later he was able to walk ... Walk as one of the true faith. A month later he was permited a woman..... In wedlock "naturaly". The screams were not from the woman, the first time.

Having sent ahead to find out the alocated sight Sir Ali arrives below the castle in the green valley at it's foot and instructs Tashufin Nazir ad dir to oversee the disposition of the camps and lists. He then sends a letter to Calipah Hakim bin Kamal Al-Abbaci sending Ali Khalid ibn Sharaf to do the job properly.

Revered Calipah Hakim bin Kamal Al-Abbaci son of Allah, Salam Alehkum.

The tournement has arrived and is humbled by your hospitality and fine land. It is with regret I must decline the offer of using the courtyard of the castle. It would meen more wear on the mounts and un nessasary damage to falling knights. Also the tourney field comes under my juristiction alone and to use this wonderfull castle it would meen you giving up it's soverignty to me, which we both know to be un acceptable. I have therefore taken the liberty of setting the feild below your fine bastions to the south.
It is with admiration that we hail you as the first nation of the one true faith to hold a tournament in the western style so we can show these infidel the true chivalry and might of Islam. Inshallah.

I shall await you and your champion upon the field, great lord

Sir Ali A'ku, Lord Master Herald, Inshallah

Sir Ali rides to the high table and awaits the construction of the lists and adresses the early arrivals

"I am Sir Ali A'ku. The Lord Master Herald of this tourney. Needs must that I be refered to as either Sir Ali or Lord Master Herald. Step forward to this table to apply for the lists. Western Frankish rules shall be adhered to but allchristian acts of fath are to be kept to the confines of the chapel provided."





.

 

[HJ Tulp]

"I don't like it."
Sir Richard van Barel sighed and turned to his uncle.
"My dear uncle, haven't we pledged to uphold the honour of Gelre and our House?"
"Yes we did" Sir Raymond said, his face was red because of the hot sun "but while we are melting here in this godforsaken land we are missing one hell of party in Gelre."
Richard shrugged and said nothing.

The two knights and there small entourage had left Moldavia after concluding the diplomatic talks with the Voivode and the recovery of Sir Raymond. In Illyria they met with Commander Link van Oldenzaal of the Ducal Guards of Link who was on his way to paying a visit to Duchess Anna van Egmondt escorted by a group of fifty guards. The van Balers decided join the party. In Ragusa they were caught in a web of intriges. Perpatrators of a palace coup murdered the Duke and the Gelrans had a hard time saving the Duchess. While resting at Venice news reached them that the Egyptian muslims planned to hold a tourney. Richard van Barel persuaded his uncle to go with hum to Egypt but that didn't mean the old veteran liked it.

So here they were at the high table.

"Look Richard! That's Sir Ali A'ku, the traitor!" Raymond said to Richard in Dutch.
"I can see that uncle! It seems like he is the Lord Master Herald."
"He?! He is a traitor! We should go." Sir Raymond said.
"No" Richard said resolutely "we have come this far. Besides, maybe I can challenge the bastard." Then to the Lord Master Herald.

"Sir Ali, I would like to compete in this Tourney. I am Sir Richard van Barel."

 

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A congregation of Egyptian nobles arrived to the tournament, accompanied by a strangely large number of Andalusian servents and citizens of burguiese birth.Immediatly the servents set up several podiums and tents for the guests, while a Greek bard began to sing under the delightful music of Egyptian instruments.Refreshments were then provided to all those who seek to quench there thirst and drown their hunger.Among the nobles, was Sayif Id-Din El-Abbasi, a minor official in the Abbasid upper government, with a good tongue and ability to speak an array of languages.He noticed the two Frankish knights from Oroba and called out to them "You there!Welcome to Egypt oh followers of Christ, I am Sayif Id-Din, please come join us!"

 

[Voshkod]

The man matched the horse - huge, shaggy, unkempt, odiferous. Both were covered in laquered leather armor. The man's mustache and beard, and the horse's mane, were long and intricately braided. He had a fine-looking bow - a doubled recurve composite bow, to those who knew - over his back, a short stabbing sword at one hip, and a short spear with a wicked hook on the back on the other. He carried a banner made of a Yak's tail, and bore no shield. They rode alone, out of the desert, into the tourney grounds.

He dismounted before Ali Ak'u. His Arabic was harsh, full of strange sounds. "I am Mongke. My tumen on the border with Persia heard of this contest. We battled to see who would go, bearing the tumen's banner. I defeated all comers. I am Mongke, and I am here to fight." He paused. "And drink. Fight and drink."

 

[Elias Tarfarius]

An Oriental Tourney - The Strongman and the Sarecens

Herr Keztler von Shillech, Lord of Augsburg, had journeyed far in the last month. Instead of riding over the Alps and down to Venice, he has taken a barge from Munchen all the way down to the mouth of the Danube and from there took a ship to Alexandria, from whence he and his party had rode to Cairo. Herr von Shillech was no stranger to the East, having served in among the Knights of St. John at Rhodes for a few years during his youth. He appearently, though, had forgotten about the heat... why had he wore a black tunic this day. It was fashionable, even to the eyes of the Sarecen women, but it was making him sweat like a pig. That would not be so attractive.

There were the Sarecens, especially one who looked to be a man of rank, welcoming all the knights. Herr von Shillech took a glass of wine from one of his servants and thanked the man in Arabic, something which surprised his companions (the priest most of all). He had learned a little of the tongue on Rhodes from sone of the captives and slaves there. Although he saw these people as any man of Europe would see them, he had a respect for them and their religion and even a desire to know more. Not to the extent that the now Lord Master Herald had, mind you, but still it was there. Coming up to the table, the Bavarian did a small bow and gave a letter to the scribe.

I am Herr Keztler von Shillech of Bavaria, Lord of Augsburg, and this is my nephew Odo to my right and my squire Gunther to my left. I have also brought my priest, Father Grunwald, if that is allowed. I wish to enter this grand contest and let it be known to any man that challenges me that I can throw a stone the size of a sow with ease. That is all! *big laugh*

 

[HJ Tulp]

The Gelrans rurned to the Egyptian nobles and Richard said
"Thank you sirs, my dear uncle and myself would more then honoured to join you as soon as we are accepted into the Tourney. Maybe you could inform me about the lands of the Prester John. Do they exist as is rumoured in Western Europe?"

 

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Abbasid Podium - Rumors and chats

The Abbasid noblility broke out in laughter as they saw the Frank from Bavaria arrive.
"Look at him!like a chicken with unkept feathers, oh these Franks truly amuse me!" one of the women from the house of Abu Khaldiram's house spoke.
"Why is he wearing all that cloth?for godsake he must be new to these lands, heh sweating like a dog in Cairo.Must have taken the hot desert for a Cold land like those of the Rus"the women bursted out in giggles.
"Look at the grace they move their legs, more like women though*She gave out a slight laugh* They brought women and not Men to fight!"
"What would you expect?the Franks are idiots, they do not have the grace and culture of our people, nor the innovativeness of Allah's followers" remarked one of the more religiously inclined women.
"Oh well, let us see what *skills* these Franks have, perhaps they may dazzle us with their stupidty".One of them pointed at a rugged man "Oh Allah!look girls, a dog ridding a horse?Oh how Ugly and abhorent!"
"And rugged and dirty and filthy, the mongols have ruled Persians and Arabs for two centuries, and still they dont take any baths, I could almost smell him from here"

 

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Sayef Id-Din looked at the Frankish Knights in bewilderment "Aye he exists, in backwater Nubia.I heard the tales some christians brought that hes a powerful king of a powerful kingdom, but that is untrue.Our poor southern towns have more wealth than all of Nubia put together, heh powerful indeed, your good names please?"

 

[HJ Tulp]

Sir Raymond looked to the south and muttered
"So it is true....interesting..." Then he turned towards Sayef Id-Din.

"Offcourse sir, our apologies for not introducing ourselves. I am Sir Raymond van Barel and this is my nephew Sir Richard van Barel."

 

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"Barel, Barel...I heard that before, wait for a second "Sayef Id-Din turned to the other nobles and began to speak in Arabic.He quickly returned to his guests "Gelere am I correct?from the small Oroba Kingdom of Gelere?well after you sign in, please do join us in the podium, it would be refreshing to see new faces if you know what I mean, now I wont be here to pester you"He left waving his hand, and walking to the podium of the Nobility.

 

[Lord E]

Egypt

It had been a long journey. When they had been in Moldavia for the tourney there France had been at war, suffering a terrible defeat at the Battle of Piedmont. After that peace had once again returned to the world. And they had been able to get a ship to travel across the Mediterranean to Montpellier. The city at the time under personal control of Louis of Lotharingia had been a much quicker way back to France than sailing round the entire Iberia to Vendee. Jacques had been ill the most of the time of their journey, suffering from his wounds at the last tourney, but he had been better and better for every day, and after some months back home he had felt great and ready to once again tour the world. But his mother and father had complained that they had seen so little of him the last years, so he had decided to stay home for some time. But then when a rumour started circulating about a tourney in Egypt Jacques once again headed for the world. Having travelled out of Nimes this time, since the King and Louis of Lotharingia was in a small conflict over Montpellier they had crossed the Mediterranean to arrive in Cairo. The voyage had been a pleasant one, though the heath and the smell had become very bad when they started to reach Egypt. And now they had arrived there.

The sun was boiling, and as Jacques sat on his horse looking out on the city of Cairo, looking a little further he could see only desert, at least that was what it looked like Jacques though, he could feel that he was sweating.

“Hmm what an evil land plagued by such a heath. And the heath, damn I can’t stand it!”

”Maybe it was a mistake to come here my Lord?”

“Nonsense, Rene, nonsense! When I fought at the tourney in Moldavia the area was even worse, after all it was all like a big swamp!
And remember I had to withdraw because of that silly injury last time, so now it is time to take revenge. And who knows maybe we will be able to show some of them Heathens a good lesion about Chivalry as well!”

”Very well my lord. Still I can’t really see what sort of men would be showing up to a tourney down here in this heath!”

“Well we are here now aren’t we? And besides that is my cunning plan, if that silly Bohemia doesn’t show maybe the rest of us will stand a chance!”

”Ah very cunning my lord, very cunning indeed!”

They ride on towards the tourney grounds ahead.

Tourney ground

Jacques stood waiting for Rene to return just on the outskirts of the tourney grounds.

“Now what did you find out?”

”Well my Lord it seems like the Lord master Herald is once Sir Ali A'ku, it might be the wanted criminal of the murder in England, but I don’t know really. Also I understood that a knight from Gelre and also a knight from Bavaria have already arrived at the tourney.”

“Hmm Sir Ali A'ku, you say. Well this might be interesting. Well hearing that the Gelreans have already arrived wasn’t the biggest shock, they seem to be at every tourney no matter what how deserted and evil the place is.
He he he!

Now let us ride and meet Sir Ali.”

They ride into the tourney grounds and Jacques dismounts, Rene stays to guards the horses, because there is no good telling what those Heathens might think of, Jacques tells him, before walking over to the Lord Master Herald.
Jacques looked around and saw a lot of strange looking people watching him as he walked over.
-I guess they have never seen the latest fashion from Paris before! He told him self, while laughing a little of the strange clothes they wore.
-He he he silly locals….

He then arrives before the Lord Master Herald, bows and then he speaks.

“Noble Lord Master Herald I am Jaques de Voluceau, baron d Yvelines. I have arrived to this tourney with hopes of bringing great glory to France and my self in the noble art of Chivalry!
I hope I will be accepted at the tourney?
Maybe you also could inform me if there are any possibilities to get anything to drink here? I am thirsting to death in this heath! I could really need some wine now.”

 

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Sayef Id-Din overheard the Knight speak of thirst, and quickly clapped his hands for the servents to provide refreshments to the knight "Sorry my lord for this inconvinience, it is a wounded honor for an Arab not to have his guests well provided"Sayed bowed "I am Sayef Id-Din of the High Abbasid Caliphate, a minor noble and a servent to the Calipah.I represent him here, may I ask good sir, from which land do you hail?I am also sorry but our wine has no alcahol, for we muslims abstain from such drink, but perhaps I could instead provide you with Mez?an Andalusian delicasy from Iberia which flocked in with the refugees?"

 

[Lord E]

Tourney ground

Jacques smiled at the man that wanted to bring him something to drink.

“I thank you very much for the drink good sir. Well after this travel I will drink anything as long as it helps against my thirst. So please good sir bring me some of your choice, I trust it will work against my thirst. This Mez you talk about sounds good!
I must say I need this after the long voyage to get here, and this country of yours are really hot as well.

Allow me to introduce my self. My name is Jacques de Voluceau, baron d Yvelines, and I come from the Kingdom of France. You might have heard about it before sir Sayef?”

 

[Elias Tarfarius]

On the Tourney Ground

Odo tugged on his uncle's sleve and pointed out the giggling women on the dais. Herr von Shillech heard only a little of what they were saying, but he was not used to women laughing at him, to say the least. He decided to walk over and say a few words as best he could, using his charm perhaps on the veiled beauties.

God's grace be with you, fair dames of Egypt! I am Herr Keztler von Shillech, Lord of Augsburg, from the far away land of Bavaria. It is in the Holy Roman Empire... that is not to be confused with the late Eastern Empire, now the lands of the Turk. *laughs nervously* But enough geography, I find this country quite warm, but I am sure you are use to it. I fear I shall have to change soon into something lighter... silk I suppose. I know that I am strange unto you dames, but we shall be better aquainted soon enough. Presently, I and my party do leave for our rooms in the castle. Till we meet again. *bows and walks back to his men* Come, come... let us get settled.

Looking around at the arrivals, Herr von Shillech felt very good about his chances, except for one worry. Sir Ali... he would have to find out more about him.

 

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Tourney Ground

Sayef nodded to one of the servents to bring a refreshing Mez glass with a topping of honey "Lord Jacques de Voluceau, baron d Yvelines, you may take Egyptians or "saracens" as lost on the matter of your lands, but we are the fathers of geography, Our ancestors lost the battle of Tours against the Gauls in the Frankish lands, or what you today call Gaul, though I doubt your Kingdom is united from what I hear" Sayef asked one of the servents to quickly bring a map from the small fort "Yes Egypt has a most unpleasent weather Im afraid, but Cairo fairs much better, but as you can see my lord, this tournament would greatly add to the tension of our capital, escpecially since our army is on the move to help our North African brothers, though I hope this conflict wont interfere in creating understanding between us eh?"
The servent returned carrying a Mez and a map.He handed the glass piece to the Frankish knight while the Map was given to Sayef who snatched it "Lets see...see what I mean?"

"Of course our ancestors always believed that South was North and vica versa, thus you see everything upside down, but geographly its correct, see theres the Gaul lands"He pointed at the right.

****************************************************************

Abbasid Podium

"Hah!the audacity of this man, how does he view us?Whores for the taking?Meat!Uh thank god for Islam!"one of the women said aloaftly.
"Hes an idiot habibati, let him amuse us with his stupidty"
"You know....you just gave me an idea...."
"What?"
She laughed "Listen girls, lets flirt and make him BELIEVE we like him"
"What!?"
"Listen, we shall also tell our husbands of this prank, and so after several days, our spouses will arrive, and he will believe he broke their honor, and thusly theyll attack him and hell run for his life, I'll pay any amount of dinars to see that" She snickered.
The women laughed "Oh your such a witch!"
"I know"

 

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The winding trip across Europe may have weakened the steed upon which he rides, but Ansgar himself is still bursting with energy. After a rough period of travel from the duchy of Hessen he has almost come upon his goal, the newly begun tournament. Thinking back over the past weeks the young man can not help, but feel exuberant. After rallying for his position to represent the house of Hesse-Kassel it feels spectacular to finally end the first leg of his quest.

Pacing towards an official the German prods a local man whom he has had hired to speak on his behalf. Speaking in German the servant translates for the officials…

“Good Sir Ali or Lord Master Herald I am Ansgar Freidheich. I hail from the duchy of Hessen in northern Germany. My roots are noble enough and I pray let me compete for glory in this honorable tourney.”

 

[Voshkod]

While waiting for Ali Ak'u to deal with his matters, Mongke looked about the field. Some pretty Arab women were giving him the eye, but more amazing to him were the white and red men. Their skins were pale, in some cases, bright red in others.

One came near him, also to speak to the Lord Master Herald. He spoke to an Arab in some gibberish tongue, and the Arab translated. Mongke smiled, showing a field of black and ravaged teeth, then opened his cow-skin sack of airag - fermented mare's milk. The desert heat had made it almost chewy, and he took a swallow (or bite), then held it out to the knight from Hessen. He spoke to the Arab translator. "Tell the pale man he is welcome to some airag! He looks thirsty." Look more than a bit disgusted, both by Mongke and the airag, the Arab spoke gibberish (to Mongke) back to the knight.