The Crusaders

It was the year of the Lord 1148. On through the golden sand, past the sea in which Moses had once buried the armies of Pharaoh, four holy knights and their steeds rode westward. They left behind them their own armies, fighting a losing battle around the walls of Damasco with the forces of Nur ad-Din. Yet let it not be said that this was a sign of cowardice or weakness. Alas, it was with great sadness in their hearts that these braves left their comrades; nor would they have done it if not to face another, greater duty, a thousand times more bitter. Their tale I shall recount, so that it may not be forgotten.

It was at the edge of the land of Egypt, in a rare oasis of green, that they met a foreigner, covered from head to toe. The man rose from the rock where he sat and walked towards them, as the knights came to a stop.

"Peace be unto you." he greeted. "Joseph, the Hermit King. I have been waiting for you."

One of the knights dismounted and hugged him dearly. He was an old man, with burnt skin and a wild beard, yet his eyes were lit with fire.

"Peace, Avdol, my friend!" he said. "As you see, we have come. I have brought the best allies you could hope for."

The other three knights politely nodded. They were completely covered in armour, one silver, one green, one deep black; but the insignia on their shields, alone, were enough to reassure their allies, and strike fear in their enemies.

"The Knight of the Star, the Knight of the Hierophant, and the Knight of the Chariot." explained Joseph. "You will not find faster swords, or stronger hearts."

"Or flashier armour." said Avdol. "I believe those are better left here. The enemy has many eyes."

"If you want to see our face, stranger," said the Chariot, "perhaps you should show us yours."

Without a word, Avdol unfurled his turban and took off the covers from his face. At the sight of his face, the Chariot cursed. The Hierophant drew his sword.

"Are we to fight side to side with an infidel?" he shouted.

"As we say in my country, Sir Hierophant," said Joseph, "calm thine tits. You are still green. Had you spent more time here in the Holy Land, you would know compromise often serves our interests better than strife."

"Let us discuss matters of war." the voice of the knight of the Star was deep and unmoved. "What are we up against? Joseph called us here, but did not explain us the details."

"A scourge, Sir Star." said Avdol, his penetrating eyes fixated on his helm's armet. "We may worship our own God in different ways; but we both do, I believe, know the danger posed by the Devil. I can tell you, we are up against no less than Satan himself."

"The bane of my family." whispered Joseph, and his stare already pierced the horizon, aimed like a dart at the mortal enemy. "The heretic sorcerer that has taken upon himself the name of our Lord in great pride, Brando. It is up to us to free the world of his taint! On my life I swear, I shall avenge my ancestor!"

"Sounds like a holy task." uttered the Hierophant. "I humbly submit to what the Lord demands of me."

"And one ripe for glory!" the Chariot drew his sword and twirled it in a flourish. "And the love of dames that it brings."

"Let's hurry, then." Avdol cracked a thin smile. "It would be two hours with camels, but your horses will need more."

They left. The knight of the Star, in silence, lingered behind for a moment. Among the bushes of the oasis he had seen something. When he walked to one of them and dove in with his hand, he found a beast - a dog, a stray mutt with a black and white mantle, perhaps abandoned there by a passing caravan.

"Good grief." he said, putting the dog on his saddle behind him. Then on he rode, towards battle, and fate, and duty.