The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) James Mercer (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📖

Servants were being dragged from their hiding places within tents, tortured until they gave up their treasures and then left lying in a pool of their own blood.

  The captured lords and vassals who had served the Caliph were stripped of their armour and wealth and then escorted back to the camps of the Christian Kings. There would be some expensive ransoms to follow.

  The high ranking warriors and lieutenants who had no worth in ransom, were stripped down to their undergarments and chained up. Their future would be the slave markets of the north and east. Meanwhile, the common soldiers, those who had fought bravely for their generals and the Caliph, were merely herded up and executed by the hundreds.

  At first the executions were slow and dishonourable but with more arriving every few minutes, the beheadings became faster and more efficient.

  Reaching the outskirts of the enemy camp Robert could hear the excited cheers of those who were still looting the empty tents. He halted a moment and looked beyond. Before him the battlefield was scattered with the uncountable dead. It was the largest field battle he had ever been part of and he wondered if as many had fallen during the assault on the walls and in the streets of Constantinople.

  Many squires and men-at-arms had been ordered by their lords to carry out the unpleasant task of dispatching any fallen enemy soldier who still clung to life. Meanwhile servants and others who had accompanied the wagon convoy were clearing the field of their dead comrades. With the unlikelihood of the return of the Caliph or his generals, the enemy corpses would be burned in due course to avoid disease.

  Jupiter nudged his shoulder as if he were almost encouraging Robert to avert his eyes and continue to advance. Robert stroked the muzzle of his mount.

   “You fought well today my friend. You were a true warrior,” he said.

  He briefly looked up at the sky to see the carrion beginning to gather, preparing to feast on the sea of corpses.

  As they crossed the blood-soaked battlefield, none challenged him, they were more interested in the booty that lay amongst the dead. Coming close to where the two forces had initially clashed together, Robert came across a heart-breaking sight.

  A young squire rested against his dying horse. The animal’s chest rose and fell slowly. Nearing the young man Robert could see that he was no older than maybe fifteen. A spear was stuck in his side. It had pierced his mail, gambeson, gone through his stomach and burst through his back. The only reason he was still alive was that the spear was plugging the blood flow, causing it to seep out slowly.

  The squire was stroking the neck of his golden brown palfrey, speaking to it gently. There were smears of his own blood on the animal’s neck and a dagger lay just out of reach on the ground. Robert guessed that the lad had tried to end the pain of his mount but had not had the strength to do it mercifully.

  Taking a knee, Robert placed his hand on the squire’s shoulder. The dying boy looked towards him.

   “My horse,” he whispered.

  An image of a young man of the same age, lying at the foot of the Byzantine capital’s walls came into Robert’s head. It had been where they had found Nathanial. Dressed in a rusted, chainmail coat and left alone to fend for his master. However Nathanial’s injury had been healable. This man’s injury was mortal and as soon as the spear was removed, he would bleed out in moments.

   “My horse. Please sir, stop his suffering and mine as well,” he whispered.

  “What is your name?” Robert asked him gently.

  “David. David de Beauchamp.”

  “Where is your home?”

  “Sussex. My home is close to Chichester.”

  “Your deeds and bravery this day will always be remembered David de Beauchamp. Your family has good reason to be proud of you.”

Out of the boy’s eye line, Robert drew his dagger from his belt and quickly drove it into the young squire’s side, piercing his heart. He could hear the relieved last breath as his life ended.

   “Go with God, David,” said Robert quietly, closing the squire’s eyes.

  The horse seemed to sense the loss of its rider, shifted a little and then ceased to breathe. Robert liked to think that it was because the loyal beast wished to join his brave, young master in the next life.

  Continuing on foot, Robert and Jupiter navigated their way through the heaps of bodies where the two armies’ foot soldiers had engaged. Their dead eyes stared eerily.

  In the distance he could see the caravan of supply wagons starting to appear from the pass. Amongst them would be Clutter and his butcher’s tools … and Selva. The surgeon and his new assistant had some long nights ahead of them.

*****

When his comrades returned, they found Robert lying in the shade provided by one of the supply wagons, still wearing his full armour. He had left his comrades to loot the camp, as was their way. But he had wanted no part of it this time. Jupiter was drinking from a leather water trough and was quickly joined by their own mounts who by that time were gasping for the treasured water.

   “Ripe pickings?” he asked, his eyes still closed.

   “Aye, some good plunder worth a fair bit of coin I’d reckon,” came the solemn voice of Cherik.

  Robert continued to enjoy the shade with his eyes closed.

   “Been ‘ere long?” asked Jimmy.

  Something was wrong. Jimmy was always happy after he had gained plunder but now he sounded flat and low. Opening his eyes, Robert slowly sat up to look at his comrades.

   “Since