PDA

View Full Version : Pray for Timurids - Battlefield story Moors vs. Timurids



Kiekko
02-02-2007, 17:28
Pray for Timurids

Come here my sons, I’ll tell an story for you. Come. Great story, yes. Sun is too hot today to stay out, in shadow over here air is much cooler. This kind burning day was long time ago when I was an brave rider in His Majesty’s Sultan’s ( may the Prophet bless him ) Royal Guards. It was hot, bright noon and distant hills of Palestine in the horizon dance in standing air like dzinni’s breath. We come this place to defend our new lands from eastern devils whom attacked and pillaged our cities and villages, slaughtering even smallest kittens, leaving only smouldering ruins. Our great Sultan’s ( may the Prophet be merciful for him ) forces has fight them already few occasions, but those vile barbarians have won all those battles and our might and power slips in to sand like fresh blood from lamb’s throat witch was butchered. But still we went into that valley to fight and destroy them in the God’s and His Prophet’s name!

Please give me some dates and fresh water, my son. My throat dries same way like that day before battle. Our mighty general Abd Al Aziz and legendary leader, Sultan’s ( may the Prophet keep his name in fame ) oldest son Amir Al Ghalib who take Ghaza from foreign infidels and slay them on shores of Mediterranean Sea and be now our beloved Sultan ( may the Prophet give him many years more ). We all stood there, our army’s prize and bride, our flowers of desert and sharpest swords among our merciful God, 14 companies of finest Camel Gunners and us in two Royal Guard companies and also couple troops of mercenary turkoman cavalry and we looked as those enemy’s monstrous beasts rise to hilltop at another side of dry valley. Believe me my sons, I almost lose my bowel movement when I saw those giants come, loudly play their war horns witch those gigantic animals have their own, and I can feel ground itself tremor under my beloved horse’s feet. You don’t believe me, my young lions? This is all true in the Prophet’s name.

Our mighty commander was still, not fear at all and making jokes and laughs joyfully . “Look my brave warriors, by the Prophet’s beard how they catch those ugly animals? Maybe they use own mothers as baits? I have never frighten grey mice, not even so big ones! Aziz my friend, what your pagan magic says about those, have you seen before such blasphemies of nature?” And our general spits into ground and reply: ”No my noble lord, I haven’t ever seen so funny animals, not even in my foretelling dreams. Manly organ it’s nose and ears like dhow’s sails. I want to kill one of those before evening! I’ll make an hut from it for my mother-in-law!” And we all laugh and I feel demons of fear fade away from inside me. We all yell and beat our shields and saddles with our swords and spears. But our camel gunners don’t shoot any shots into air as they usually do, they just rewind their wheel lock muskets and get ready to ride and rain down fire to enemy. Our plan was simple but effective, our precious camels be our both sides and ride first to enemies flanks and shoot volleys of deadly shots. Our mission was to keep centre and try kill their infantry.

My sons, I still in this day remember well how our leader stood up in his stirrups and shouts in mighty voice:” Listen me my warriors! In the name of the God and His Prophet Mohammed! Fight a good fight and be men witch I can be proud! Today we show those sons of half dead goat how desert storms and rains steel! Hit them with rightful, led heavy hand and don’t stop until last of those dirty dogs lie in the ground breathless! This is TOTAL WAR! The God is great! ” And we all start to shout:” The God is great! The God is great!” when we rode to the fight, but behold! Our voices and shouts wasn’t heard anymore because from large backpacks of those shaitans animals roars thunder and lightning against us. Each beast carries small but powerful cannon with a crew! Child’s head size iron balls strike to our ranks and cause infernal havoc, I saw my brother-in-arms head blown away when he get hit, I saw another our comrades horse cut half in cloud of blood and bone. Maybe my face get pale like infidel franks have but we don’t turn around, no my sons, we don’t flee, instead we gain more speed and rise up our lances, scimitars and banners in to air in the name of God! Luckily enemy’s fire don’t hit to our brave camel gunners whom start to shoot. Clouds of black powder smoke starts to rise and I saw bullets hit to enemy’s monster animals. They blow their horns from pain and start to move, so ruin their gunners aim. The God is great! One monsters get hit straight to head and with mighty rumble it fell and killed all whom was in it‘s backpack. But not all those giants carried cannons, some had men with muskets in large basket in animals back and they shoot us with deadly accuracy. And their infantry carries long spears, and each spear tip was like two headed axe. They had also many bowmen and I hear many, many times how arrow whistle close by my head, but by merciful God’s name no one was hit to me or to my beloved horse Aisha. We make many sudden turns to avoid enemy’s fire and get closer to final charge. I know my sons at you have never been in the battle and you don’t even can imagine what kind it is. Time itself get slower but also weirdly faster when Death rides with you, ready to harvest everything what stands your way…or yourself if you make even smallest mistake or if you have just poor luck.

Suddenly we are in clean way to charge straight to enemies bowmen’s line, I lower my lance and hit so hard to first bowman at I was sure at I broke my arm. My lance was shattered to pieces and I throw it against next enemy’s face, then I took my sword, made from finest Toledo steel and start swipe death to right and left. Deep red blood sprays from enemies heads and necks as we all cut through them like ship’s keel plough sea. Oh my God I’ll give almost everything at I could feel that day and moment again! Suddenly I was rode other side of enemy’s decimated line and my beloved horse and myself was covered enemy dogs blood. Battle roars all over us and I look around and I saw how camel gunners kill many enemy’s horrible beasts and some them become mad and start to run ignoring they riders commands, killing their own infantry as our men under their feet, what horrifying death that must been. But battle wasn’t over yet, no my sons. Enemy’s infantry still fight, killing a lot our cavalry with those strange spears. Our commander shouts order to strike them from backside, so at we can pin them down, like yellow hot iron middle of anvil and hammer. We gather quickly and start to rode fast back to fight. Smoke from cannons and muskets, dust from battlefield dims the sun’s light, voices and shouts of struggling men, clash of steel, cries of dying and wounded, galloping horses and camels, blares of enemy’s beasts. All that belong to battle, and my sons, you can’t never heard that anywhere else. And all those smells; blood like wet copper, animals dung and also men’s too, sweat of men and horses, black powder’s smoke stench like rotten eggs and desert’s bone dry dust what suffocates your breath and sand crackles in your teeth! All that mixes and fighting feels to take forever but suddenly it’s over, evening sun starts lower and it getting darker. My right arm was aching from all that killing and I was so tired, almost like those dead men whom lie everywhere with aghast and bloody faces.

I meet in dusk my chief who wipe blood from his sword and say to me; “ Mansur, we won, there is no any living enemies left, only few beast run away in panic without their riders. Amir will take care of them.” He pauses and continues. “ None of them surrender. None. We have to kill them all. May God be merciful their souls. And I think at we two are only left from fourth cohort. In the God’s name.” He shakes his head like he still don’t believe it. I dismount and fell to ground because my feet don’t carry me anymore. Young armour-bearer bring me water and I sit, pat sweaty and blood striped Aisha’s head who also smells water and I look to battleground in the bottom of valley and sides of hills. I gave water to my thirsty beloved horse and saw all horrors of this total war. Bodies of men, sticking spears and arrows from ground and corpses like deadly field of wheat, smoking carcasses of horses, camels and el-ephants, as we later hear how these strange beast called. It was time to pray, and I took my praying carpet from my saddleback and look to blood red sun in the horizon to see where Mecca was. I wasn’t praying for me or my salvation, I pray for all my dead brothers and also for those brave enemies who fought against us today and died. I kneel and bow down to Holy Stone.“ There is no other God than Allah, and his Prophet Mohammed…”
That was the my true story for you, my young lions. As I, Mansur Al Sharif , from fourth cohort of His Majesty’s Sultan’s ( may the Prophet always smile to Him ) Royal Guards tell it.

“What you think Ali? Was that a good story or not?” Young soldier asks from his comrade who leans his spear. He thinks, scratch his well oiled black hair under his new shiny helmet, then he nods. “All right old man, here couple dinars, go and buy some food. May the God and His Prophet be good for you.” Then they left and leave me sit in corner of alley in shadow under date palm, leaving couple bronze coins in my begging bowl. I can hear muezzin’s call to salat, maybe it’s time to pray for souls of fallen Timurids once more…


THE END

This little story is based on very good battle of Moors(me) vs. Timurids(AI) near Damascus. I left out from story Timurids siege weapons ( 2 trebuchets ) and horse archers. Sorry my broken english and misspelling :inquisitive: ( My native language is finnish...). Thank you to reading this far.

Tamur
02-03-2007, 00:15
Excellent read Kiekko! To be honest, your English only adds to the story -- you use it very well, and there are a lot of interesting images here. Great work, keep it up!