Forgive me for the long wait on the next chapter. Life had gotten busy for me that I have almost forgotten about this story, but fear not I have returned- kinda. I would like to thank Zankidan for placing my story in their alerts. Thank you very much and hope you continue to follow this story. :)
A review or two would be nice.
There was a sudden stillness that had overcome the fortress. The sound of battle echoed ever higher above the mountains. So loud that the eagles in the sky could hear such a feat. Though the sounds of war were only muffled by the stone walls around him- the fortress being higher above and maybe further away from that battle- but it was strong. It was something he had ever seen in movies or even in video games about the defense of a fortress and the strength of its armies. It sounds funny if one were to say it aloud, but in his mind it made sense... at least to David it made sense.
Al Mualim had given direct order's with the movements of his hands catching David's attention quickly. Like hand signals he would give to his soldier's back at home. Home. It was all David could think about now. Living with the torment of war memories. Fighting some invisible battle against his own mind. Nothing would ever be the same. Not even the sun's grace could shine a light in his dark mind. The men around him moved with haste at the order Al Mualim made. Shaking away any thought of home or war, David could clearly hear the sound of men dying by the hands... by the blade of another man.
Altair seemed to be in relief at the sudden turn of events. What was in discussion seemed to have halted the humiliation. David could not help but see the tenseness that grew in the man's body. His stance- his very frame depicted a man of so few words but at the same time Altair was still but a boy. As if knowing what the former soldier was thinking, Altair took a quick glance at both David and Malik. Without so much as a word for that matter, Altair took many steps out of the master's chamber.
Malik still clung to the bloody stump of an arm trying to stop it's bleeding. Though David did have field training, but the former soldier did know enough to use a tourniquet, clean a wound, cover it; David looked to Malik whose face was losing color.
'He is losing blood fast.' He thought walking slowly down the flight of stairs. Where he was to go David was not so sure. Malik was breathing heavily trying his hardest to keep from falling. Eyes looked about trying to recognize home. It was uncertain if the hooded man even knew that the foreigner was supporting him. Malik was in such a haze that when a healer came to his much needed aid he collapsed forwards to the unsuspecting man. David reacted quickly clinging onto Malik with every bit of strength that he could muster.
The healers began to speak to David in the tongue which the former soldier still could not understand. Taking Malik's body in their care David could do nothing more than watch as the blood drip to the stone floor from the wound of the missing arm. Time had seemed to slow by making all those around him nothing but a blur. What was the fortress of scholars and men in hoods vanished into a desert with homes in ruble. Smoke filled the bright sky in a signal. Echoing away in the distance gunfire had ceased. They could only walk to their location. Each soldier had to carry on even though they felt tired. David could see in front of him two of his soldier's carrying one of their own.
"There was nothing that could have been done. We were out numbered in that village. No air support. No reinforcement from the ranger's... Specialist, this was not your doing." A hand was placed on his shoulder. David shook it away with a step back. That anger inside of his chest could only grow at the thought of losing someone in combat.
"Sergeant, if I was not foolish enough to take a step out there while in open fire, PFC Brown would still live. I am responsible for his death. Responsible for the team that I had failed to protect." David spoke with his fists clenched tight.
"You are not held responsible for anything, Specialist. Men die here and those at home blame others for their loved ones death. If you and PFC Brown did not run across open fire we all would be where he is right now. One man's life saved your comrades and those who are still out their in the 'HOT ZONE'. You will not let his death go in vein." The Sergeant held a stern look towards David. All these bags filled with bodies were going to be shipped home in caskets. An American flag draped over them as a last reminder.
The two soldiers had held in their anger long enough to not cry here and now. The idea of a soldier being strong and brave is what held American's in believing they could win a war. Over politics and the way things are run by the government have always played a major role, but it was among a divided nation of beliefs and ideals. It has always been and forever shall it be. David was not one to see either side. As a soldier he was proud enough. Standing tall and showing his bravery against the men who see him as the enemy.
"Then why do I feel as if I have caused the death of one of my own?" David asked. "The death of plenty could rest on my shoulders. And don't tell me it's survivors guilt, because that is bullshit."
"We all have seen war and the causalities. You are nothing to hold responsible. I have seen many of my battles die in front of me. Some of them I have seen die on the operating table in a combat zone. If we do not do our part in this war then who will fight? We joined young and saw what many other men saw. Stop sulking here among the dead and let us regroup and do an AAR. The first sergeant needs to know about our success and failures."
"Yes sergeant. I will gather the team."
David had never seen such a spectacular sight in all of his life. All thought pushed aside when the call for the hooded men to return to the fortress was rung. His feet seemed to be moving on its own after the healers came to get Malik. Time seemed to be moving at such a pace. One of the many hooded men had found David at the entrance of the large doors overlooking the fortress. His eyes seemed to be moving to every tower, the training circle, the flags that waved against the wind.
Leading David to where Al Mualim was, the invading army had gathered on the upland in front of a watchtower, close to the gates of the fortress. Men on horseback, men with spears, swords, crossbows, everything that one could imagine an ancient battle could look like. The former soldier had to rub his eyes to believe that what he was seeing was in fact real. The bloodstain on most of the men were still fresh, but if one were to look close enough their clothes had seen better days.
"Heretic," The man on horseback that lead the army roared with all his might. David could feel his heart stop. Those were the first English words that anyone here has spoken! "Return what you have stolen from me."
"You've no claim to it, Robert," Replied Al Mualim.
The sound of Al Mualim speaking English was another surprise for David. This had brought about many questions now. Not only was a former soldier stuck in the crusades, but it would seem that maybe some of the men here could understand him. If that were the case they could understand him the whole time he has been within the walls of the fortress.
"Take yourself from here before I'm forced to thin your ranks further." Al Mualim continued not looking to David who held a confused look. Many of the hooded men stood silent listening in on the exchange of words. David was not even sure if any of them could speak English as well as Al Mualim.
"You play a dangerous game." Robert said with anger filled eyes.
"I assure you, this is no game." What the hell was going on?!
"So be it," came Robert's reply. "Bring forth the hostage."
They dragged a helpless man in the bloody robes. Hands were bound behind him tightly and his mouth was gagged. David has never witnessed such a humiliation in person, but had heard stories about such things. Muffling cries and only helplessness to spare, the robed man looked not towards them but to glimpses of shadow figures on platforms. Hidden from view so that the army below would only have to turn their head to see. David was not sure how long those men had been standing there overlooking the army of the English speaking men, but he was certain that whoever these people are had something rolled up their sleeve.
Down below, however, the scene quickly changed. Without warning the man on horseback nodded to one of his soldier's and made sure their prisoner was on his knees. Within that instant a sword went right through his chest spilling out blood and causing the man to cry out in agony. Instantly the man was dead. David's eyes might have grown from the scene.
"Your village lies in ruins and your stores are hardly endless. How long before your fortress crumbles from within? How disciplined will your men remain when the wells run dry and their food gone?" Robert seemed to be gloating to Al Mualim. A smirk placed upon his lips looking at the leader of the hooded men. David focused on Al Mualim waiting for some reply. If this man could understand AND speak English, then maybe this man may know what the hell was going on.
"My men do not do not fear death, Robert. They welcome it- and the rewards it brings." He spoke strangely calm.
"Good, then they should have it all around." Again, Robert could only gloat.
"Show these fools what it is to have no fear. Go to God!"
'Go to God?' Thought David with a questioning look in his eye. 'What do they plan on doing?'
The men on the platform raised their arms in the air. Taking a step forwards they jumped without hesitation. A kind of perfection as they fell gracefully through the air to the ground below. Unknown to David at the time, the men would land in a barrel of hay to break their fall. David-now- could only be horrified by this sudden act of courage. These people were going to stand strong against the army before them. An army who had invaded their village. Their home. How long were these people going to continue living before they too jump off the platforms to show these invader's that they did not fear dying from starvation or even torture if it came to it?
"Do not be afraid." He heard a calm voice say.
Taking his eyes off away from the empty platforms, David could see that it was Al Mualim who had spoken.
"Afraid? Afraid?! Your own men had committed suicide because you told them to 'Go to God'! While an entire army stands right there and... and you could understand me this whole time? Something tells me that you are more than just scholars." David said feeling the sense of being watched by every single eye. But before Al Mualim could speak any further the sound of the soldier's cries had all eyes focused on them.
From behind the army, logs of many sizes and heavy had rolled from the tower down upon them. Many men and horses were crushed and rolled over. Some died from the impact closest to the tower while others had serious injuries: broken bones, internal bleeding.
"We are more than just scholars." Al Mualim said watching from inside the tower stood Altair who smiled just a little. "We are an ancient order doing what is right for all of humanity."