The two Freds
The guards escorted the exhausted messenger up the hilltop in the gloomy dusk towards the large, gold-fringed tent at the summit.
As he stepped into the firelight he saw the two Freds sitting across a table playing dice.
He cleared his throat.
The dark-haired one (Swabia?) turned to him and grinned broadly.
Well good sir, I expect you have come to tell us what we're doing next, eh? Did Baldwin send any women with you? Ye gods, I'm sick of this fellow's company after weeks aboard ship!
He laughed, clapping the fair-haired one (Barbarossa?) on the back.
The messenger fumbled in his satchel for the scroll, while Barbarossa fetched him a chair.
Sit down good sir, you must be tired after your journey. It's a long way indeed from the Levant to Nicaea!
Swabia laughed again.
Yes, I suppose I must take the blame for that one - we stopped off along the coast here for provisions at my urging, before the storm blew up and wrecked our ships. The worst thing is, they went down with all the wine aboard!
The messenger had finally located the scroll and placed it in the centre of the table without a word, before leaving the tent swiftly.
Both Freds reached for it at once and laughed, before each with exaggerated politeness bade the other to pick it up. After a moment or two of this, Swabia finally grabbed it and read its contents quickly before tossing it to Barbarossa.
Well, this is interesting indeed is it not? I'm not sure his Holiness would approve of these orders! What do you think Freddie?
Swabia shrugged.
Baldwin has some balls, I'll give him that - first he makes a pact with the Saracen and now this!
He thought for a moment.
I say we go along with it - he's a sharp fellow and I'll wager there's a great deal in it for us if we follow along like good soldiers. We can always go our own way later if we don't like the cut of his jib.
Barbarossa picked up the die once more, looking Swabia in the eye.
I'll roll you for Tarsus.
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