At the Muster (pt. 2)
Barbarossa left the tent as soon as he was able and caught up with Swabia who was making his way back to their shared camp. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder, only to have him shrug it off as he turned angrily to face him, tears in his eyes and stabbing one finger into his chest in accusation.
"You could have stood up for me in there! After everything! We had a deal!"
"Freddie..."
"Don't 'Freddie' me you snake! Why shouldn't I run you through like the traitor you are?"
"Baldwin is King - it's his decision who rides with him."
"And I suppose you think it's just fine that I come all this way from Germany only to be relieved of my command and put in charge of some dusty village full of camel traders in the middle of the desert? While you prance off with His Majesty to save the world? You're a piece of work."
"Freddie, it's not like that - he needs a good man to stay behind and help Prince Guy prepare the rearguard. In case things go wrong.."
"I'll tell you what's wrong - it's YOU, leaving me behind after all we've been through together. I always knew you'd do it one day..after all, you're the heir to the Empire and I'm just poor little Freddie of Swabia, might be Duke one day if his brother dies.."
"Freddie, I'll share the treasure with you - we can roll dice for it, like before!"
"Sod off Fred, I don't want your charity!"
"Come now.."
But it was too late. Swabia had run off into the night. Barbarossa let him go - he'd calm down and after all there was nothing to be done. The decision had been made.
Two armies would set off from Mardin the next morning to seize the fortress at Mosul and break the peace with the Seljuk Caliphate, and King Baldwin and Frederick Barbarossa would be at their heads.
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks