Sorry for taking so long to update but I've been busy with college and other stories and stuff. And another thing! How many dicks does a guy gotta suck to get some reviews around here!? On with the story.

Disclaimer- Don't own anything blah blah.

It had been several hours since the army had stricken camp and begun the march to the coast where Rufus hoped they would be able to hire out some galleys for transport at least as far Ephesus in what was left of the Byzantine Empire.

"It's like hell twice out here!" a young knight complained behind him, eliciting a tired laugh from many of the men. It was indeed an unusually hot summer day in the Milanese countryside.

Captain James rode up beside him, "The Milanese are shadowing the column sir. They outnumber us two to one," he reported gravely.

Huffing angrily, Rufus said, "If they can muster twenty-thousand men just to harass us then they have plenty of manpower to join the crusade. And it's not like they're trying to hide themselves. Look there," the prince pointed to a ridge in the distance where several horsemen dressed in green observed the traveling army. Turning back to his captain Rufus ordered, "Reform the army into the box formation with the baggage train in the center."

Nodding, James turned and rode off at speed towards the rear of the column shouting his lord's command. The box formation would enable them to protect their supplies and non-combatants no matter which direction the enemy attacked from.

For the next several hours the army marched in tense silence, keeping a wary eye glued to the horsemen following along the ridge. They were trying to conceal their numbers but the amount of dust kicked up by all the men and horses gave away the scale and positions of the Milanese forces. It was obvious to the prince that they were looking for the perfect opportunity to attack, and with their current strength it wouldn't be much of a battle. The grim truth sank in. If he didn't think of something soon he'd pay for his sins a little sooner than he would like. He thought deeply a while before an idea came to him.

"Captain, let me see the map."

The young officer fished the parchment scroll from his satchel and handed it to him, giving him a questioning look. They had bought it from a hunter as they passed through a small village. He had guaranteed its accuracy on his life, a good enough assurance in Rufus' opinion. Unrolling it, he traced their path to where they now were. The Tanaro River wasn't far from their present position. The river wasn't very wide but it formed the border between Milan and the Holy Roman Empire. The Emperor Henry had married Rufus's sister Adela a few years ago and was a close ally of England. If they could make it to the river they could link up with the Imperial crusaders and continue the journey.

"We'll stop here for now. Have the men make camp," ordered Rufus, looking to see how much daylight was left, perhaps three or four hours.

"My lord? Here?" questioned his second in command.

"Yes. Have the men dig some ditches around the camp. Keep it tight."

"You have a plan, lord?"

The prince nodded, "Gather the officers for a council in one hour and have the crossbowman stand watch."

James rode off to do his bidding. There were several murmurs as the soldiers received his orders. It was ludicrous, he knew that. To camp in the middle of the afternoon with a hostile force so nearby was downright stupid, but he had a plan. Other than the ridge which the Milanese occupied it was a relatively flat area with a nasty bog on the left flank, protecting that side from a cavalry charge. They had that much going for them at least.

The baggage train was quickly unloaded as the tents were handed out. Rufus' own command tent was brought over and set up in no time at all with the officers arriving shortly after. They numbered about twenty in all, each in charge of their own company. Rufus took a seat at the head of a long table, his officers sitting after him.

"Alright gentlemen. We are deep behind enemy lines and are outnumbered two to one. The men are growing restless and desertion is becoming a problem. It's time to turn things around," Rufus began as an assistant unfurled a larger version of the map from earlier, a copy done by one of the scribes trailing the army.

"My plan is to strike camp in a few hours and march through the night to the bridge here," Rufus pointed to a spot on the map, "Here we can make our stand against the Milanese. The narrowness of the bridge will make their numbers count for nothing!"

It was silent for a moment before a short stocky man asked, "My lord, what if they attack before we can leave? Or what if they don't attack us at all when we reach the bridge?"

"If they attack before we can withdraw then we will be defeated. But if we can make it to the bridge they will have no choice but to attack. They've been following us for over a week, they hate us, they have the advantage in numbers, and Milanese knights are notoriously undisciplined. Remember Dijon? How they charged without orders and were massacred?"

"My lord's words carry weight. What would you have us do?" asked James.

"Have the men stay in their armor but let them get some food and shut eye while they can after the defenses are set up. Start some camp fires so we keep up the illusion."

There was some commotion outside, gaining the attention of everyone in the tent. One of the guards from the doorway entered.

"My lord, there is a messenger from the Milanese who wishes to speak to you."

There were some gasps and more than a few curses. Did they come to deliver an ultimatum? Probably a demand for surrender. Haughty as they were, Rufus had to admit that the Milanese were shrewd diplomats, using their silver tongues to swindle what they couldn't take through force.

"I'll meet with him," he told the guard.

The sentry turned and left. Soon a tall, lanky man entered, dressed in a green tunic and trousers.

"Prince Rufus, I have come to tell you that my master, Martino della Torre, wishes to meet with you," he spoke with a superiority that grated on the young prince's nerves.

"What does he wish to discuss?"

"Your surrender."

There was an instant uproar. All the men standing from their seats, ready to draw blood. Rufus silenced them all with a slam of his fist on the table. All were quiet as their eyes turned to their leader.

"I'll meet with him."

Rufus stood at the spot indicated by the messenger, flanked by two guards, Captain James and veteran knight. They had fought together many times but Rufus was embarrassed to admit that he had never learned the middle-aged man's name. Before long Martino and his escort came into view. They stopped about fifty paces away and dismounted. Martino started walking to meet him halfway.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, sir?" the older knight asked.

"I hadn't expected this. Let's just play it by ear, shall we?" This elicited a sigh from the older man as Rufus walked to meet his enemy.

Rufus knew a little of the man before him. He was the nephew of Giovanni, the Doge or king or Milan. He was inexperienced in the ways of war but apparently was an able administrator. Rumor also had it that he preferred men in his bed. Rufus came to a stop in front of Martino. He was a very feminine looking young man with pale skin a delicate features. He was about a head shorter than Rufus with green eyes and close cut black hair. His armor was clearly for show as it was heavily ornamented with intricate designs and precious metals. Both men were silent for a while before Martino broke the silence.

"I wish for you to surrender. There is no need for you and your soldiers to die."

"We are a crusading army marching under the banner of the cross. For you to impede our march is in direct violation of the Treaty of London that ended the war two years ago. Not only that, but by the Pope's decree, any nation who attacks an army fighting for God is to be excommunicated."

"I'm just following orders," the Millanian countered.

"And you would lose your soul in the process?

Martino remained silent at that.

"My army will not surrender. If you wish to do battle all I ask is that you let my men prepare themselves. Let them make their peace, and tomorrow we can fight it out to our hearts content," Rufus said, praying that he would accept.

Martino gauged him for a moment, "Very well. We will do battle tomorrow at dawn. Be ready."

And with that, he turned around and strode back to his escorts. Rufus did the same, trying to suppress the grin threatening to break out across his face. James noticed the corners of his prince's mouth turning up in a small smile.

"What happened?"

"If he keeps his word they won't attack until morning. As soon as the night is at its darkest we'll begin the march. If everything goes as planned we'll be eating bratwurst for lunch tomorrow!"

It's been a long time since I updated so I forget where I was going with the story. I still don't really know but I'll manage somehow. Cool people leave reviews. Will NOT update until I get some reviews.