Chapter 62: Varangian Guards
Jorgklusburg, within the Lord’s Hall.
The main doors were suddenly thrown open. Castellan Leonard hurried in and took his seat, the evening breeze he brought in causing the lamplights to flicker, casting elongated, distorted shadows from the long benches behind each person qualified to be present.
On a long rectangular table in the center of the hall, a feast of fine food and wine was already laid out. Lothar sat upon the lord’s throne at the head, a giant single-headed eagle escutcheon above him, the eagle’s wings spread perfectly behind him.
The aroma of roast lamb, cheese, and wine was tantalizingly tempting. But no one raised their knives or forks; they were all watching Lothar.
Lothar, seated on his lord’s throne, held up a paper bearing a red wax seal, displaying the King’s insignia to the assembly. "His Majesty the King’s summons has been issued. Everyone must arrive in Jerusalem within the stipulated ti."
Hans’s expression was sowhat grim. "Milord, during this period, the developnt of our fief has gotten on track, and our strength is growing daily. But this is clearly not enough. As far as I know, Saladin commands an army of hundreds of thousands. With our current strength, it will be difficult to play a significant role in this battle."
The faces of the n were etched with worry. They couldn’t even imagine what hundreds of thousands looked like; it already surpassed their understanding of warfare.
Lothar shook his head. "It’s not as exaggerated as hundreds of thousands. Although Saladin has many troops, most are untrained conscripts. His elite core army numbers only ten to twenty thousand. What is claid and what is actually possessed are two entirely different things. He also cannot possibly deploy his entire force to attack Jerusalem. The climate of the Holy Land cannot support an army of such a scale on a long expedition."
Facts had proven his initial thinking of training armored sergeants to be correct. If he had truly started training cavalry from scratch, two weeks would have at most produced a batch of mounted infantry, which would have been more expensive and even more useless. Though, even if this line of thinking was correct, it didn’t make much difference now. His current strength was still too weak.
Ryan spoke up, "Milord, Jorgklusburg is not on the frontier; it won’t be easily threatened by the enemy. Therefore, I suggest we take all the soldiers we can. This would also be a considerable force. Even if the battle is lost, they can cover your retreat from the battlefield."
Leonard quickly chid in with agreent. "Exactly, Milord! In Jerusalem, you need a strong army to support you, so those arrogant noble lords won’t look down on you!"
Lothar pondered for a mont, then still shook his head. "A professional army of over a hundred n is indeed not weak for a lord, but on a battlefield of tens of thousands, it’s as insignificant as a grain of sand in the Jordan River. Once a battle is lost and a tide of routed soldiers cos flooding back, they would easily be scattered. So, whether we take them or not doesn’t make much difference. Leaving them in the fief will, instead, ensure its safety."
Lothar thought for a mont more, then decided, "All armored sergeants will remain to guard Jorgklusburg. I will only take the Axe Guards and the Winged Hussars; that will be enough."
’Axe Guards’ was the local term for his ’Varangian Guard,’ as the Eastern Empire still had its official Varangian Guard, making it inappropriate to use the sa na. Though, one look at their equipnt would reveal they were heavy infantry modeled after the Varangian Guard.
"Moder, you will stay behind to manage the overall situation, including the daily recruitnt of Winged Hussars and Axe Guards. The original plan to recruit only ten of each is cancelled."
"Yes, Milord."
"Leonard, what have you found out about the matter? The assassination of the Sasanian King’s vassal by Saladin’s n—was it just left unresolved like that?"
Leonard lowered his head and said, "It is said that not long ago, Saladin t with the Sasanian Shahanshah on the border. He admitted that his subordinate acted alone in killing Kaukab and expressed willingness to pay compensation.
He also acknowledged the Sasanian King’s sacred status as the Grand Patriarch of the Zoroastrian faith and delivered many cartloads of gold, silver, treasures, beautiful won, and fine steeds as tribute. After two days of negotiations, the Sasanian King withdrew his troops."
"Saladin... is truly a formidable figure." Lothar sighed deeply.
If Saladin hadn’t admitted to it, it would have given the Sasanian King an opportunity to make an issue of it and cause trouble.
On the contrary, Saladin admitted it, adopted a humble posture, and presented gifts to the Sasanian King as compensation. Forced by the Zoroastrian world’s desire for internal unity, the Sasanian King instead lost his opportunity to exploit the situation.
"Marlus, you will also remain in the fort. Step up the production of armants and improve the crafting techniques for armor and weapons."
Marlus nodded. "Understood. Also, Milord, the armor I forged for you is complete. That specially made arming sword only lacks the final quenching."
"Good, excellent!" Lothar nodded and said, "Let the feast begin. We will depart for Jerusalem tomorrow morning."
The new armor Marlus had forged for him was a brand-new suit of half-plate. This new plate armor, with an arming doublet underneath that had chainmail specially added to reinforce weak points, had its defensive capability only slightly improved and better than his previous chainmail.
But its flexibility on the other hand was vastly increased. Wearing this half-plate armor, Lothar could even mount his horse unassisted.
The helt was a bascinet-style helt with a bird-beak visor. This type of helt had ventilation holes at the mouth and was much more suitable for combat in the scorching heat of the Holy Land than an airless great helm.
The liftable visor design provided Lothar with a wider field of vision when engaged in close combat or fighting on foot, while the rounded faceplate was also more advantageous for buffering heavy blows. Clearly, Lothar was very satisfied with Marlus’s craftsmanship.
***
The next morning, Jerusalem’s royal palace was hosting a grand event. Sunlight stread through the high, arched windows, illuminating the intricate mosaics that adorned the walls. Nobles of all ranks from within the city, clad in vibrant silks and velvets, were present. This banquet was to welco Count Thierry of Flanders, who was related to the Baldwin family; both belonged to the esteed House of Anjou, a branch of the Plantagenet dynasty.
At the banquet, the atmosphere was lively with the hum of conversation and the music of lutes. Count Thierry, both astonished and envious, enjoyed the luxurious Eastern lifestyle that seed a world away from the damp castles of Europe.
When it ca to sheer enjoynt, one still had to look to the Eastern nobles. Having been in the East for just over a hundred years, these Crusader nobles were already entirely different from their comparatively poor relatives in the West.
On this trip, he had brought thirty knights and over a hundred sergeants and squires. So were his sworn vassals, but the vast majority were opportunistic Crusader knights who were rely traveling the sa route and, due to his higher rank, temporarily acknowledged him as their leader. Before long, they would pledge their service to other local nobles for coin and glory.
Count Thierry didn’t mind this, as he couldn’t afford to support so many soldiers either.
He had just swallowed a piece of ticulously roasted lamb, succulent and sprinkled with several precious peppercorns, when a handso, tall knight strode towards him. The knight’s face was flushed red from excessive drinking. "Count Thierry, when exactly will His Majesty the King’s crusaders arrive in the Holy Land?"
The surrounding volu imdiately dropped. The light chatter and clinking of goblets ceased. Clearly, everyone was concerned about this issue, rely holding back from asking directly due to noble decorum.
"And who might you be?"
The drunken knight was not in the least afraid of him, the potent sll of wine from his mouth almost reaching Count Thierry’s face. "I am Guy of Lusignan! Answer my question, Count Thierry!"
Count Thierry’s face darkened slightly. He hesitated for a mont, choosing his words carefully, then said sowhat vaguely, "Soon. His Majesty the King is currently mobilizing."
"Mobilizing, mobilizing!" Guy of Lusignan shouted agitatedly, his voice echoing in the sudden quiet. "Two months ago, when I was preparing to set out for the Holy Land, I already heard that several princes were ready to depart with their armies, but there’s still no news! That bastard Philip, has he forgotten the sacred duty he should fulfill as a king chosen by the Heavenly Father?"
Count Thierry’s face flushed crimson, and he slamd his cup onto the table, saying angrily, "Insolence! How dare you insult my liege lord, the great Augustus, King of France!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)