The Crusader's Duty

Leon awoke upon instinct. He had slept in many army encampments in his time. There was always noise and activity. One's ears grew accustomed to certain sounds and thus screened them out, as they were deemed "acceptable." Barring any unusual sound that might stir him, Leon would almost always awaken at the seventh hour of the morning.

He knew from the short briefing he had received at Constantinople that the man he had saved yesterday was Mathias Cronqvist. He was a noble from these eastern parts. Supposedly he was as skilled a warrior as he was a tactician. He pondered on why such a man would want to speak to him. He seemed not to be the usual run of the mill noble with an army. Leon had met very few people who could speak more than Latin and their own language let alone someone of noble blood. Only scholarly men seemed to find the time or the inclination to study another tongue. This Mathias seemed to have all the marks of both warrior and scholar. Despite his foolhardy choice that led him straight into a trap, Leon had heard of the great battles won by Lord Mathias Cronqvist.

Leon reached for his cross-emblem breastplate. The cross he wore was painted on like all the other Crusaders but the armor itself was slightly different. Underneath the ornate cross was the engraving of a stallion's head. His lord, Gaston De Croix chose the stallion head as his symbol. It was with good reason. The horses from De Croix's stables were of the best quality in all of Gaul. Leon's own horse, Strider, was probably the fastest in camp.

Walking out of his tent, Leon saw the bustle of army life. Knights, squires, and soldiers all in the infinite process of preparation for the next battle. Mathias' tent was situated inside the walls of Sarn. It was tradition for the leader of an army to sleep inside his conquest, to do otherwise would be bad luck. It also helped that the town was dead. Whatever few inhabitants remained were not likely to strike up trouble now.

Outside the tent were two knights standing guard. Leon noted the two flags flying above the tent. One was the traditional red cross, the other was the dragon encircled one that Mathias bore on his armor. It was a curious combination. For some reason, Leon found it troublesome. The guards parted and allowed Leon to pass between them. He was expected after all.

The inside of Mathias' tent was scarcely occupied. The most prominent item was a large map supported by two posts buried in the sand. The map showed the Holy Land and marked those areas that the Moslem Turks currently held as well as the position of the Crusader armies. Apart from the map, there was a simple low lying bed, an ornate chest, and small table with wooden figurines lying across it. Seeing that Mathias was nowhere in sight, Leon made a closer inspection of the small table. It was a square table a forearms length and width. Etched into the top of the table were various squares. Standing upon these square were small figurines of different shapes and sizes. Looking at the manner in which the figures were placed, Leon perceived it to be a battle between two sets of wood figures. One was made of a dark wood and the other more lightly colored one. He looked more closely at the figures and tried to decipher their secrets. Suddenly he heard a low chorus of whispers. The ghostly nature of the whispers made Leon freeze. His eyes scanned the tent and finally set themselves on the ornate chest. Sitting in a corner of the tent Leon saw the image of a dragon engraved into the gold frame of the chest. It seemed to Leon that the golden dragon served more as warning than a temptation to greedy hands. Leon felt himself mesmerized by the engraving. It was beautiful craftsmanship. Yet something about it made Leon feel cold. The world around him seemed to stop. The desert wind which had been blowing against the walls of the tent ceased. His gaze was locked onto the lid; he could not break away from it. Leon's eyes began to deceive him. He saw the dragon's head begin to turn and face him. Its snout opened slowly and a golden tongue emerged from behind its fangs. Then, in the blink of an eye, the dragon was back in its proper place. A voice cut through the air and snapped Leon back to reality.

"Shatranj." Mathias had caught Leon still hunched over the small table. "It is a game," he continued and walked around to stand opposite from Leon's side of the board. "The small pieces are called pawns. They are essentially the foot soldiers. Then we also have Ruhks, Firz, and Faras'. They make up the higher ranks of the army. Finally we have the crowned figure. They call him the Shah. He is basically the king." Mathias reached and moved one of the pawns on the board. His eyes then locked with Leon's. "Which are you? Which do you want to be? Pawn or Faras?"

There was silence between the two for several moments. Mathias walked away from the board and began to place some items that he had brought on the bed. One of them was a large jug of what Leon thought to be drink. He also seemed to have brought several more glasses than he would seem to need if he were the only person who planned on drinking. Mathias took the jug and the various glasses and placed them on a small table near the map.

"You don't have to answer that," Mathias said. He poured some drink into a glass and held it out for Leon to take. "I sometimes stare at the board and ponder on the very same questions. The answer I found is that we are all pawns in the sense that we all submit to the will of God. Even the king is king only by the grace of God. Therefore the king is also a pawn."

"I wonder if someone would try and tell him that."

Mathias smiled, "indeed. I think a great many people would like for that to happen. Now, Leon, I would like to ask you something. Why are you here? You mentioned last night that you were here to help secure the Holy Sepulchre. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"You don't have any illusions of claiming some land for yourself?"

"Not really, I wouldn't know what to do with land. Anyway, I took the Crusader's oath before coming. I know that whatever lands we liberate or take new belong to Emperor Alexius."

The conviction in Leon's voice made Mathias laugh. "In God's name, I think you are the most honest knight I've met in awhile." He looked at Leon for some reaction in his face. "I hope you know that half the men who took that oath were probably crossing their fingers behind their back. Men like Robert of Normandy, Godfrey of Bouillon, and Casmir the Polack would much rather take the land for themselves than hand it over to Alexius."

"Is that why you fight? You don't believe in the cause for this crusade, only in the protection of your emperor's lands."

"Alexius did not call for the crusade, your Pope did. However I do believe in the cause of securing the Holy Sepulchre. I just do not condone killing the Moslems with the idea that they are savages or heretics."

"I do not understand this…respect you have for them."

Mathias was about to respond but then paused as though to collect his thoughts. "What is the soldier's greatest weapon?"

"The sword?"

"That's probably what they taught you when you were a squire. No, the greatest weapon is knowledge. Do you know what the most lethal weapon is? Ignorance. You ask about my respect for the Moslems. I not only respect them, I understand them. My father before he passed away was expected to take the throne. He therefore spent a great deal of time expanding his knowledge. He learned many things, much more than others of his status. When Alexius took the throne instead he decided he would prepare me as well. As such I have had a vast education. Part of that education I received for a time in which I lived in Jerusalem. It was during that time there that I was exposed to the beliefs of the Moslems. Do not confuse me with some Jannisary. I have been a follower of Christ my whole life. I would not abandon my faith for theirs. I was allowed to practice my faith there. At the same time I also learned what they believe. I learned that they do not hate us. They do look down on us as misguided but they call us children of the book just as they are. They are very tolerant of us."

"Then why the fighting?"

"The Moslem Turks were once the minority in their ranks. They have been more intolerant of others contrary to the tradition of their faith. In recent years they have become the majority and decided that it was time to stop allowing pilgrimages to Jerusalem. That is when our fighting became more intense. They began to make more and more attempts at pushing the border of their empire. Thus we have been fighting to keep our borders safe. Now your Pope has called a crusade. Our goals are the same, yet different."

Mathias placed a hand on Leon's shoulder. "I do believe in the cause. I think the tomb of Christ should be in the hands of Christians. After all, they do not believe in its significance."

Leon handed his glass to Mathias. "You have a very open outlook on things…."

"…but it is not yours." Mathias injected.

"Each man must find his own. You have given me much to think about. I thank you."

A booming trumpet sounded. Mathias saw the questioning gaze that Leon gave him and answered the question that was undoubtedly on his mind.

"When you came here I was elsewhere watching the approach of the oncoming army of Casmir. He was to have met us three days ago. Had his forces joined us when they were supposed to, perhaps there would have been less dead."

Sensing that perhaps he had stayed longer than he should have Leon motioned that he would leave but Mathias held up a negating hand. "You must stay."

"Mathias, you may ponder your place on the Shatranj board, but in the presence of a man with title and leads his own army, I know my place. It is not here." Leon insisted and prepared to leave with or without consent.

As if on cue, a tall man dressed in full armored regalia entered through the tent's entrance. Leon froze where he was, half turned to leave. The red cross on the man's armor was as polished and defined as the cut of his goatee. His slight grin made him look both obnoxious and spoiled. However under the armor you could see the build of a man who was not entirely inept at combat. Following him was a man dressed in a bishop's garb. The thin structure of his body seemed like a distraction. The bishop's gaze was stern and all encompassing. He took only the briefest of looks at Leon, blinked and switched to Mathias as though he had digested all he needed to know of him.

"The Duke Casmir of Socom and his eminence Suchet, Bishop of Le Puy. Lord Mathias Cronqvist, is this how you would treat us?" spoke Casmir in his snakelike tone.

Mathias turned his back to them and proceeded to occupy himself with the map. Casmir's grin jittered slightly but that was the only indication that he was bothered by Mathias' cold reception. Th Bishop meanwhile remained expressionless. Unlike his companion, he had become accustomed to this sort of behavior from Mathias.

"Would you like a drink?" Mathias asked without turning.

"That would be kind." Casmir answered.

"Then by all means, do not stand on ceremony. The drink is on the table."

Casmir cleared his throat and walked to the table to serve both himself and the bishop. Both men seemed to ignore Leon's presence. "Quite a prize you have here, Mathias."

"If you can call a town with broken defenses a prize…" Mathias finally turned to face Casmir. "You should have been here at least two days ago. What happened?"

Casmir took a sip from his glass and for lack of a chair, seated himself on Mathias' bed.

"My men are not accustomed to such temperatures. There was some slacking. We also had to stop off somewhere to pick up more water and supplies. I do apologize."

"The dead need no apologies, Casmir. Your men have been in this land for more than a month. Now you feed me tales of men who do not know how to march in the sun. Fairy stories about stopping to resupply? More supplies for what? The battle is over!"

At this point the bishop raised a hand to interrupt. "In Casmir's defense I was present. He did his best to motivate his men to march faster."

"I place as much faith in your testimony as I do in the Bishop of Rome."

"Now there is no need for disrespect. Although there has been a separation between the church in Rome and the East Empire, there must exist some respect. We are here to help."

"With all due respect, I have yet to see much of that support."

"Well," began Casmir, "we are here now. What will you do with us?"

Mathias paused then mellowed his tone. He gestured for the two men to look at the map.

"Sarn is ours, but as Casmir should have noticed, its defenses are weak. It cannot serve as a stable base for us in this area. Perhaps a small garrison can remain so that we can use it as a look out post, but nothing more. Our next objective should be the city of Tartery. Its fortified high walls would make it an ideal base."

Casmir began to laugh. "Tartery? How in the name of God will we defeat the army there?"

Nodding his head, Mathias continued. "Because of its large size, Tartery has a large army. Fortified walls plus a large army makes for a difficult conquest, but not impossible. We are going to allow one of our prisoners to escape, horse and all. His only choice would be to ride to Tartery. Once there, their tacticians will surmise that an army encamped at such a weak post would make an easy killing. They won't send their whole army, just enough to make sure they get all of us. But it will be enough to weaken their forces at Tartery."

"So while part of their forces are riding here to Sarn, we will already be riding to Tartery?"

"Not exactly. We must eliminate the part of the army that is coming to Sarn or else we will have compromised our rear. No, after our prisoner is released, a small group of men will follow him to make sure that he goes where we want him. Meanwhile, your army will ride northeast towards this mountain type region, here," Mathias motioned to the spot on the map.

"There you will find cover and a convenient vantage-point to observe the Turk army as it rides towards Sarn. My forces along with the other half of yours will be waiting here. Once you see their forces approaching Sarn, you will ride and cut them off from the rear trapping them between us. If all goes well, we will have defeated half of their forces on our terms and then together ride to take Tartery."

The Casmir began to clap, "brilliant. Absolute brilliance!" Mathias regarded his outburst with a twinge of distaste. The grin that permanently grazed his face only added to his insincerity. Casmir raised his glass, "a toast for Mathias' bold plan." Casmir downed his drink in one gulp and then rose up from the bed. "I shall see to the discrete release of the prisoner and then to the scouts that will follow him. Four should suffice?"

Mathias stared at him quizzically. "Four should be sufficient."

"Good, good," Casmir said with relish. He was already walking to leave when Mathias spoke.

"On one condition."

Casmir turned, his grin looking almost malicious. "Pray tell?"

"He goes," he said simply. Mathias' hand pointed directly to Leon.

Leon had remained silent during the entire conversation. He had felt himself out of place among these men. Soldiers do not normally see this side of battle. The strategy, the internal conflicts, and the lack of any emotion for the soldiers they were commanding. Why should he suddenly be privy to this scene? Casmir now regarded Leon for the first time. He studied him for a moment.

"He is my best scout," Mathias said. Leon suppressed his instinct to look at Mathias. "His best scout?" thought Leon to himself.

"From where do you hail?" Casmir asked him.

"Gaul."

Casmir nearly broke out in laughter again. "Finally making friends from my part of the continent, Mathias?"

"Try not to hold it against me."

"Indeed," Casmir said. Looking back to Leon, "report to my commander for instructions. Be ready." Casmir exited the tent as swiftly as he had entered, the bishop following him closely. As soon as they had left Leon assaulted Mathias with his bottled up retorts.

"Why in god's name did you make me stay here? I have no place. I am just a simple knight who follows orders. Furthermore, if you wanted me on that mission you could have asked. There was no need to be colorful."

"I apologize, but I need you on that mission."

"Why?"

"Because I need someone I can trust. Though I have known you scarcely a day, I see in you an honorable spirit with good intentions. I need such a man at my side. You may not realize it, but you have within you the spark of greatness, Leon."

"How do you know this?"

"You walk with your eyes open. I see in you the ability to not accept the world at face value."

Leon sighed.

"Will you do this for me?" Mathias extended his hand. "Will you be my ally?"

"You leave me little choice." Nodding his head, Leon took Mathias' hand.

"Excellent! Now be wary on this mission. Casmir is not what he appears to be. You must keep your wits about you. Do not disregard anything. If all goes well, you will report to me after this is over."

With his face hiding nothing of his displeasure at the recent turn of events, Leon exited the tent.