Antioch, 1236

Death stalked the streets of the capital of Outremer. A devastating plague, caused by an unknown substance, had made its way into the once-grand city and claimed thousands of lives. As a measure designed to prevent further spread of the outbreak, Antioch had locked down and was, in essence, completely cut off from the rest of the world, a vortex in time. Its citizens neither knew nor cared for outside events. The fact that Baghdad was being besieged by an unknown enemy, perhaps the long-foretold second wave of the Horse Lords, did not matter to them. Nor did it matter that Adana was no longer under immediate threat from the Turks, or that Kaiser Henry and his lewd son were about to complete the conquest of Edessa and thus bring Outremer to its envisioned size.

All they knew was death, death, death. Conditions inside the city were horrible. The streets were entirely deserted, aside from the rotting corpses of men and horses, unable to be properly buried for fear of the disease spreading to the gravediggers. The horrid stench reeking from these bodies didn’t help either. Nobody knew if the smell was a cause of the streets being empty or an effect of it. Perhaps it was both. Those people still healthy holed themselves up in their houses, generally in the smallest, least-accessible rooms. Thirteenth-century wisdom was that this was the best way of not getting sick, but as a result the people soon developed minor ailments if their own, generally bad coughs. Increasingly worried that what they had was the plague, they didn’t wash or bathe for fear of contamination, contributing to the city’s overall mood of dirt, death, and despair.

At least, these were the rumors that Conrad Salier had heard.

Damascus, 1236

The King of Outremer was safe from the disease, holed up in a city far to the southeast. Instead, he was slowly being claimed by another disease: the one brought on by constant use of the hashish, the one that was taking his mind. He had (so far) successfully hidden his use of the drug from the Diet, although this was in large part due to the Herculean efforts of Hugo Bresch, his veteran warrior, and Frederick Weinmuth, his Chief of Staff. The majority of the Reich lay blissfully distracted by Conrad’s partaking on the debate regarding Milan and his aggressive drive to bring more people to the East. However, in the inner circle of people that knew better, bets were being made to see how long he’d last before he finally cracked.

A knocking sound came from the door of Conrad’s study. “Enter,” he said, and four people did. Frederick Weinmuth was first. Trailing him were three Arabs, two of which Conrad was familiar with. They were Abdullah and Hamid, the pair that Conrad had released from the dungeon in order to provide him with hashish.

“Who’s the third?” Conrad asked. Abdullah, the man with the slicked mustache and dark, dark eyes, answered.

“His name is Achmed,” he said. “He’s a mute, so he’s not much good in the intelligence department. We use him for deliveries… and other work.” Achmed nodded, his expression similar to that of a statue. It was clear that he was well-suited for both purposes. He dwarfed even the large Hamid in stature, and was carrying a huge load of hashish. After being directed by Conrad to place it in a hidden compartment of the study, he resumed his place alongside Abdullah and Hamid.

A minute of silence ensued. Nobody was quite sure what to say. Conrad and Frederick looked especially befuddled. Finally, Hamid broke the silence.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked. “We are waiting for our best customer’s opinion on the quality of this latest shipment.” Conrad’s face flushed with red. The hashish did serve him well on many occasions, but there was still a part of him that was ashamed of what he was doing.

Hesitantly, Conrad rolled a huge batch of the plant, his biggest yet, and stuffed as much as he could into the wrapping (he was well-trained in this practice by now). He took a whiff with four sets of eyes watching him…

…he took a whiff with four sets of eyes watching him, but they disappeared quickly, the room disappeared, Conrad himself disappeared. He now consisted of an entity, some kind of something, overlooking a square surrounded by black…

…the square consisted of Outremer and the surrounding areas. Without any prompting, the view of the square changed, it was centering, focusing on Antioch. For some reason the term “zooming in” came to his mind but it meant nothing to him…

…the square changed again, it became 3D, with the buildings of the beleaguered city popping up suddenly. The view that was Conrad entered one of the buildings, he saw a young woman, her hair falling out, vomiting on her infant son, the son’s face was flushed and he was crying, he looked dangerously thin…

… Conrad departed from that particular house, entering others near it; the sights were each more gruesome than the last. Suddenly the square zoomed out again, it moved northeast, to the pass that led to either Adana or Caesarea, depending on which direction one was taking…

…in the pass, two large Turkish armies were camping, resting, preparing for a fight, probably against the Reich but who would know?… Conrad abruptly “zoomed in” on a group of soldiers, they were eating some kind of animal raw, biting it and watching its blood spill out gleefully…

…was what he saw typical? Conrad doubted it, the Turks were surely more civilized and pious than this, this was something more akin to the Horse Lords… a person in a normal state would realize that it was probably the hashish doing this, but Conrad was not in a normal state and all he saw was a large amount of bloodthirsty enemy soldiers marching on Adana, which currently had no Count…

..the view changed, the square “zoomed out” and headed east, east past Antioch, east past Kaiser Henry and Elberhard, nearing Edessa, east past the great desert, east to Baghdad, which was rumored to be under siege…

…there was no rumor, Baghdad was under siege again by a great force, they carried familiar flags of the Horse Lords, they had finally come again, would make their way west, and this time it was up to Conrad to defend the place, for Otto was dead and Henry aging rapidly…

…he “zoomed in”, again, without prompting, on a meeting of commanders, they were discussing strategy in some foreign language, then suddenly the headless body of a familiar friend (if he was a friend) appeared, it was Jebe the Tyrant, and somehow, he could… see… Conrad…

… “I told you,” he said simply, and suddenly Conrad “zoomed out” so fast it gave him nausea, he vomited on the square, Baghdad was shrinking and now covered with chunks, the desert was shrinking, Outremer was shrinking, suddenly the square itself exploded in a fiery ball and Conrad screamed…

…and Conrad screamed, and finally he returned to normal. He looked up, as pale as the thousands dead in Antioch, to the concerned eyes of Frederick. His own eyes glossed over to those of Frederick’s and set themselves on the three Arabs still in the room. All of them were smirking.

“Leave me!” he cried, and then collapsed.