Galloglass Book One the Templar Page 22

  For over two hours, twenty thousand Mamluks poured out of their camps and took their positions before the wall. The entire army stood at attention and awaited the word of their Sultan. At last, Qalawun rode forth from his camp surrounded by his guard. Riding from right to left, he trotted the length of his army so all could see. The horses of his retinue were magnificent, pure bred Arabians. His silvered mail gleamed in the early morning sun. After reviewing his men, he rode to the center of his forces and faced the city. One of his imams rode up and stopped to his left rear. Qalawun raised his right arm and the imam stood in his stirrups and called out the Shahada, and it was echoed by other imams down the length of his army. When the echoes of those cries died away, the Sultan again waved his right arm and then pointed at the city. Twenty thousand throats responded with "Allah Akkbar!"

  Their cries washed over us like some monstrous tide. It almost paralyzed us and numbed our very souls. It was a primal call to our doom, and we knew without doubt there would be no escape. The Mamluks rushed forward and swarmed the wall, and we slaughtered them with arrows and stones and still they came in their thousands. They scaled the enceinte in a dozen places and overwhelmed those who stood and fought. The breaches in the Tower of the Hospital and the Tower of the Bishop were overcome amidst horrendous fighting.

  Our sector of the wall was west of the tower of the Hospital and near the Tower of the Bishop. A Saracen mine had collapsed the tower and opened a third breach wide enough for several horsemen to ride through. I left my Turcopoles in position atop the wall with their bows and descended a nearby stairwell to defend the breach. Unlike the day before, the Mamluks who tried to force the breach were not infantry but heavily armored cavalry instead.

  We met them amidst the rubble in a wild, snarling melee of screaming men and shrieking, gutted horses. I drove my spear through the side of a Mamluk as he rode by and cleaved a sergeant brother beside me from crown to chin. The impact of my spear thrust drove him out of his saddle as I stepped back to avoid a lance from the warrior behind him. The next few minutes were confused as we hurled ourselves at them in a desperate attempt to drive them back. I saw Adolfo hook a Mamluk with the blade of his pole axe and snatch him out of the saddle only to whirl the weapon over head and bring the hammer end of the axe down with a crunch that splattered brains in a spray the height of a man. Nearby, Henri took a sword on his shield and chopped his axe into the nearest Mamluk rider, severing his leg below the knee. The warrior pitched backward out of his saddle as his horse tripped and slid across the mound of rubble on which we stood.

  The sheer press of bodies in the breach soon took its toll as we were forced inexorably back. The further backward we went, the more Mamluks pressed into the gap. One moment we were standing strong, the next we were forced to scatter as our line collapsed.

  I called men to me to form a small square so that we could retreat in good order and not be ridden down. The mistake men make when facing cavalry on foot is trying to run from them. One has no chance and might as well drop to his knees and offer them his head. Adolfo, Henri, and a Hospitaller knight who came from I know not where, in addition to three or four sergeant brothers and several Turcopoles, rallied to me as chaos reigned to our front.

  We backed away from the breach and used spears and halberds to keep the occasional Mamluk horseman at bay. The Saracens were preoccupied for the time being with their success. I ordered my men into a side street and with our spears facing outward, we headed for the harbor. Around us, I could hear the cries of women and children as the first waves of Mamluks began to sack the city.

  Carefully we made our way toward the harbor. Occasionally a horseman would appear and a Turcopole would send a shaft from one of his powerful, composite bows to warn him off. We reached the barricade separating the harbor from the rest of the city without incident.

  Inside the harbor district, the scene was chaotic. Not only had the Venetians and Genoese already gone, the Cypriots had loaded up as well. Around the perimeter near the barricades, Hospitallers and Templars along with the men of the French Regiment and the armed citizens of Tripoli manned their positions while those who were left, men, women, and children, attempted to leave. Boats of all sizes and descriptions were taking on passengers as people swarmed the docks or dove into the harbor and swam to ships anchored off shore. Small craft capsized as those who took to the water attempted to climb aboard. Sailors grabbed their oars in self defense, using them to push people away or worse, braining people when they didn't heed the warning to stand off.

  Seeing their chances slipping away with each passing moment as ship after ship backed water and left the harbor, many of Tripoli's citizens simply sat down where they were and awaited their fate. I watched as a young mother attempted to give her child to a group of Cypriot nobles who were pushing their way through the crowd to one of the few remaining galleys still in port. She placed the babe in the arms of one of the women only to have her hopes dashed when the noblewoman's husband snatched the screaming bundle from her and tossed it back to its mother.

  By this time I had found Marshal de Vendac and reported the fall of our sector of the wall. He informed me that Marshal de Claremont had been wounded and removed to a Hospitaller galley earlier in the fighting. We were still conversing when I saw Bartolomeo Embriaco approach with his retinue. They stopped before us and the Mayor of Tripoli inclined his head in a slight bow. "Brother Ronan, I am glad to see you have survived."

  "Indeed," I replied, "and why is that?"

  "I would not want the Mamluks to deprive me of the opportunity of killing you myself."

  The conversation had taken a nasty turn, yet I acted as though I was unconcerned. "My lord Embriaco, a Templar may not engage in duals of honor with men outside of the Order. You know this."

  "Neither are they supposed to make the beast with two backs," he hissed.

  I decided at once that if he was going to bring such an accusation forward in public, I would make him say it for all to hear. "Who is it, sir, that you accuse me of sleeping with?" I said, loud enough for those standing nearby to hear.

  His face purpled. To admit publicly that his wife was sleeping with me was more than he could bear. "I will not dishonor the lady's reputation by announcing her name for all to hear. You took advantage of her and you seduced her. You are a false knight and a coward."

  Somehow the thought of Helvis being seduced was rather amusing. I fought hard not to laugh in his face. If he only knew the truth, but my response was cut short by the shouts of our soldiers as the Mamluk army reached the harbor and began assaulting the barricades. "Look to your men, sir, and if we survive, I will see that your honor is satisfied."

  Embriaco wanted to say more but could not. He and his men turned and sprinted for the barricades. De Vendac chose to ignore our exchange. Instead he hefted his spear and pointed to where our brothers were fighting. "Come. God calls us to our fates."

  We went with him, Adolfo, Henri, and I, and those Templars who were with us. The shield wall behind the barricades was thin and our additional numbers did little to stop the flood of Mamluks who clambered up and over the debris piled to our front. We met them with a ferocity that was primal in its intensity. Men smashed and hacked at one another in a frenzy of destruction. I remember flashing blades and snarling faces. My spear I drove clean through a Mamluk officer, its tip punching through the back of his mail like an awl. No longer able to use the spear as it was hung in his corpse, I unlimbered my shield and drew my hammer, crushing the first face that appeared over a shield rim.

  Slowly we were driven back from the barricades as men fell and our line constricted. Cries of panic from those citizens unable to reach ships in the harbor added to the chaos. Marshal de Vendac took a spear through his chausses and went to his knees. I watched as a Mamluk with an axe leapt forward and chopped down with a blow that sheared through his mail and buried the blade in de Vendac's chest. Before the axe man could kick his weapon free, I spiked him with the back of my hammer. T
he blow came upward from left to right and caught him under his chin, driving the point through his mouth into his brain. He flopped like a gaffed fish and then fell back while I slammed my shield into the next warrior to push him back and clear my weapon for another strike.

  Mamluk horsemen were now bulling their way into the harbor area, riding into the crowds and hacking people down without remorse. We tried to retreat to the docks, abandoning those who could not get behind us. The crowds, with nowhere to run, milled about like sheep in a slaughter pen. The Mamluks were methodical. Men of all ages were killed outright. Only young women and children were spared. The old, the sick, and infirm were quickly slaughtered. Women who were no longer young were raped and murdered at once, their cries pitiful to hear. I could see slave coffles being driven away. The cries of their victims were quickly silenced. Soon there were none left in the harbor area before the docks except the dead.

  A Mamluk emir rode forward to within a spear cast of our line. The docks behind us were crammed with people, many taking refuge in water up to their necks, somehow hoping that they were safe. The harbor itself at this point was almost empty of ships.

  "Put down your weapons," he called in good French. "The Sultan has given his word that he will spare your lives!"

  A Hospitaller, the Commander of Tripoli, stepped forward. "What of us," he waved his hand. "The Orders, does he spare us as well?"

  "Alas, I am afraid not, for you and yours are the sons of Satan. Your deaths will be quick, I assure you. I am certain your sacrifice will be well received by your companions."

  Marshal de Vendac pointed his sword at the Emir. "There will be no surrender. Come to the slaughter, my lord, C'est la volonte de Dieu!"

  The emir bowed from the saddle and then turned his mount and rode back to the cavalry that now ringed the harbor. Through their ranks poured the Maqadisa, descendants of Arab Jerusalemites displaced by the First Crusade. To them would be given the honor of the coup de grace. Helmed and lightly armored with cotton jerkins, shield, sword and spear, they would use their numbers to overwhelm us.

  We formed a semi-circle in front of the docks and locked our shields. Behind us, the remaining Cypriot galleys would slide into the quays and take off those that they could. I never knew who those captains were, but, I assure you, they were brave men who willingly sacrificed everything for no reward. Mamluk drums began to pound. Soon an imam stepped forward and called the faithful to combat. Thousands of voices cried "Allah Akkbar!" once again and then they came in a human tide of destruction.

  I have seen combat hundreds of times since Tripoli, but never have I seen such ferocity. Perhaps because there were so few of us, the Saracen thought they would have any easy time of it. When their bodies piled up at our feet and they had to climb a corpse wall to get to us, they became incensed. Slowly, inexorably, however, they pushed us back. I saw Embriaco go down after hanging his sword in a spearman's armpit. Unable to pull it free, he took a spear to his thigh and then a sword caught him in the neck, chopping him down. By ones and twos, men dropped, unable to rise.

  Marshal de Vendac deflected a spear thrust over my shoulder with his shield and then drove his sword into the man's crotch. I spiked the warrior in his helm and knocked him off his feet with my shield to finish him. To my left, Adolfo had long since slung his shield to his back and was fighting with his longsword. He was both amazing and terrifying to watch. He transitioned from guard to cut to guard with economy and grace. Often when he struck, his cuts would go from high to low and then from low to high and each one would leave destruction in its wake. The Maqadisa stepped back and gave him room, so fearful were they of his sword.

  There came a lull in the fighting while both sides disengaged to catch their breaths. Men leaned on swords and spears and gasped like stranded fish to suck in enough air to slow their breathing. Henri rolled his shoulders and laughed at me, pointing to the ruin of what was once my shield. I threw what was left of it away, belted my hammer, and drew my longsword. Adolfo nodded his approval and made room for me so that we could use our blades effectively.

  I looked behind me and realized that the docks were almost empty. Those who could had already fled; most of those who could not had either been captured or had been taken by row boat to the Island of St. Thomas, just off the point from the harbor's mouth. There they took refuge in the small shrine built after the isle's namesake.

  Pietro de Moncada, the Templar Commander of Tripoli, approached me and slapped a gore encrusted, gauntleted hand on my shoulder. "MacAlasdair, Marshal de Vendac is dead, de Claremont has been evacuated due to wounds as has de Gaudin. We are all that's left."

  I shook my head to clear it. Moncada was saying something about de Vendac being dead. That did not seem possible. He had been with me moments before. I had known the marshal since the day of my knighting. He was a good and honorable man. "Did you say dead?"

  "Aye, dead. He took a spear through his groin. I am in charge now, but if I go down, you will take command of those who are left. Do in your heart what you think is best."

  He meant surrender. But, surrender would equal a lifetime of slavery if they did not kill us all out of hand. Considering the losses the Mamluks had taken to that point, I did not believe surrender would be possible. I merely nodded and answered, "Yes, lord, but I expect us all to survive this."

  "Then either your Faith is greater than mine, or you know something that I do not."

  It was neither. I was simply young and not ready to admit I was about to die. I glanced back toward the docks and realized that a galley had turned about and was now racing in toward the docks. "My lord, look!"

  De Moncada followed my arm and his jaw dropped. "Mother of God, the fools are coming in!"

  There was a scramble as we constricted our lines once again. We abandoned most of the ground we held and fronted one set of docks. Three separate piers jutted into the harbor from it and provided us with one last piece of ground to take away the Saracen advantage in numbers. Sergeant brothers armed with spears formed a small phalanx to our front. Like a cork in the mouth of a bottle, the spearmen were almost impossible to push back.

  The few knights who were left, Adolfo and I included, took our places behind the spearmen to handle any gaps in the line. The Maqadisa, having failed in two attempts to overrun us, now stepped aside. Mamluk heavy cavalry walked their horses forward. Their warriors wore ankle length mail coats split in the middle to their waist to protect their legs while mounted. Their horses were covered with mail coats as well. Helmed and armed with lance, mace, sword, and shield, they were formidable opponents.

  I watched as their emirs ordered them into a wedge formation and then began to yell at our front rank to kneel and plant their spears in the ground to receive a charge from heavy horse. I was praying that pride would take the place of common sense and the Mamluks would not bring up their archers. Commander de Moncada, who was beside me, yelled, "Hold now, you must hold!"

  From behind me I felt someone tugging on my mantle. I turned into the face of Commander de Gaudin. Stunned I looked back and saw the Drachen , Roger de Flor's galley sitting at the end of the pier. "Brother Ronan, you must come with me, now!"

  "Have you lost your mind?" I responded. "Moncada told me you had been evacuated. Be gone while you can!"

  Behind me I heard the first undulating cries of the Mamluks as they urged their horses forward. De Gaudin grabbed my arm. "You have no choice. I order you in the name of Master de Beaujeu to back away and get on board the galley!"

  By now Adolfo and de Moncada both were standing beside me. I could see Italian arbalesters crowding the forecastle of the galley. De Gaudin handed me a small scroll of parchment with Master de Beaujeu's wax seal. "He knew this situation might come and also knew you would not listen to me. Read it!"

  The Mamluk wedge was now crossing the ground between our lines at a trot. In moments they would break into a gallop and cover the last few yards in an instant. "I cannot!"

  "Do not be a fool! Read
!"

  I broke open the seal and opened the parchment. I had seen Master de Beaujeu's script enough times to know that it was indeed his writing. The note was short and to the point. If I were reading it, then the situation was desperate, and I was to follow the orders of Commander de Gaudin without question. Moments later the Mamluks hit our line.

  Our phalanx collapsed as the Mamluk wedge butchered itself on our front. Horses went down in a cascade of flailing hooves as they crashed into spear points and impaled themselves while hurling their riders onward. The entire front rank of sergeant brothers went under in a tide of mailed horseflesh. A dazed Mamluk horseman landed in front of me and tried to stand. Bringing my sword up over my head, I struck him and split him from his collar to his sternum, forcing me to kick his body free in a spray of blood.

  Adolfo leapt into the fight as did Henri. They began killing any who survived the fall off their horses. De Moncada went forward as well leaving me with de Gaudin. "You must come. Now! All will be explained, but you must come!"

  Adolfo killed a Mamluk with a thrust through his throat and then stepped back. He turned to me and waved me on. "Go, brother. This is not your time. I feel the hand of God on my shoulder and am glad for it."

  Henri laughed and waved me back as though shooing away a child. "Go on, brother. This is for Rolf. I owe him this, you do not."

  Of all the things I had done in my life up until that point, this was the hardest. There were men here that I loved as friends, as brothers. To leave them to their fate was no easy thing. De Gaudin pulled on my arm, and I reluctantly backed away from the fighting. I followed him down the pier to the galley as the Mamluks sent more heavy horses crashing into what was left of our men. In moments, it was over. I never saw Adolfo or Henri or Commander de Moncada fall, and I am glad for that.