Lords of the East - Library

[phonicsmonkey]

Baldwin IV, Crusader King of Jerusalem, Antioch, Edessa, Cairo and Baghdad stood on the small viewing platform, at the top of the tallest minaret and watched as the invading Ghul drew up an enormous battering ram and brought it to bear on the massive gates of the Grand Palace.

How had it come to this? Had he been so blind that he had ignored the threat of these mercenary horsemen? Why had he not anticipated that the Sultan of Egypt would set them against him in a final act of spite before going to his grave?

With a great crash and an explosion of wooden shards the gates flew open and the bloodthirsty mob burst through, slavering like wolves. In the maze of courtyards and passages below the denizens of the palace had erected barricades in self defence, pitifully small and easily breached by the veteran warriors of the Qara-Suu. The plaintive screams of their victims rose to his ears, distant and muffled as if from a dream long-remembered.

Why had he foolishly pushed his advance so far to the east instead of consolidating here at Baghdad? Why had he remained here, defenceless and arrogant, reading in the library like some cloistered monk?

Head in his hands, he thought bitterly of his great, lost dream - an empire of all the faiths, with he at its head like a modern-day Alexander. How idealistic and naieve that now seemed. Baghdad was falling and Guy (that odious worm!) would take his place at the head of the crusade, in his cruelty and avarice undoing all his good work at a stroke.

He hammered his fist against the stone ramparts until the flesh was torn and his knuckles bled. It did not hurt. It could not.

He stared at the pouring blood, distantly aware of the ring and clash of steel on steel as the Crusader Royal Guard battled valiantly and in vain to retain the inner fortress. They were too few and their foe too many and there was no chance of relief. Good men died, far from home and their passing went un-noticed.

Baldwin came to his senses at the clatter of mailed boots on the stairwell. He stood poised over the hatch, hefting his blade from hand to hand. Almost as an afterthought, he ripped off his facial coverings.

Let them see me, he thought, let them see what manner of King am I.

The hatch burst open and with a mighty two-handed blow Baldwin beheaded the first man to venture through. His twitching body, blood spurting from the neck, fell back on his comrades sending them tumbling on the stone stairs with a crash and an array of foreign curses.

Then they came through in a pair, blinking in the bright light. Across the circular stone platform they saw a demon, face a hideous mask, long hair whipping around in the wind, arms outstreched and coming straight for them.

With an exhultant scream Baldwin tackled both men, hitting them at full force and wrapping his arms around them in a deathly embrace. His momentum carried them up against the rampart and with a final surge of energy he propelled all three over the edge and into the void, laughing as he went.