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  1. #22
    Chretien Saisset Senior Member OverKnight's Avatar
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    Default Re: Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

    North of Adana, 1310

    Matthias had returned to Adana. The news of the planned handover of Outremer to the Greeks had galvanized him and he had taken the first ship back to the Levant. The Diet was in chaos, half of them seemed mired in rebellion, the other half, denial. There seemed little point arguing there anymore, but here in Outremer he could hold onto something tangible. Make sure the Byzantines never laid their hands on Adana, the site of the First Crusade's greatest triumphs and the first settlement of Outremer. If the Greeks couldn't take the Citadel, they would have a hell of a time occupying the rest of Outremer, unless they felt like going through Turk territory.

    The death of the Kaiser changed nothing, Matthias hadn't returned for the funeral or the coronation of the new Kaiser. He didn't feel it was safe to leave Adana. His suspicions were confirmed when Elberhard had foolishly sought to continue with Siegfried's plan. This very year Adana was supposed to be handed over to the Greeks. That wasn't going to happen, not if he could help it.

    "My Lord, Kurt thinks he has found their camp, what should we do?"

    A question from one of his men brought Matthias back to the present. He and his escort were in the mountains north of Adana trying to track down a band of Turkish bandits. Pleas for assistance had been pouring into Adana from the local villages, and Matthias, pleased to have something to do, had personally seen to it. Best to see to the concerns of the small folk lest they revolt as they had in other parts of the Reich.

    Matthias peered through the moonlit darkness, as if trying to spy the camp himself.

    "He's sure, Jurgen? The bandits are there?"

    "Aye Lord, the sentries didn't see him, the rest are abed and they match the description given to us."

    Matthias thought a moment, twirling the Seal of Solomon on his ring finger, and then made up his mind. Placing his gauntlets on, he spoke.

    "We'll ride in, kill the sentries and the rest when they wake. I don't feel like being subtle tonight."

    Matthias's retinue charged into the small mountain glade that contained the bandit's hideout. The sentries died first, followed by half-dressed bandits roused from their tents. They were slaughtered by the light of a rather large camp fire, a mistake Matthias wouldn't have made.

    Soon enough, the Imperial Horsemen were milling about the camp looking for survivors. It had been easy, Matthias thought, the glade provided some cover but it was in a depression of the forest. It was too easy to be caught in it, ringed by trees and high ground. Despite their nasty reputation, the Turks had chosen a poor site.

    It was then that Matthias saw Kurt, his scout, galloping out of the camp. Terror and guilt were splashed across his features as he looked back. A feeling of dread suddenly rose in the Count.

    "Scheisse! It's an ambush! Get out!"

    As soon as the words we spoken, bowstrings sung and arrows flew out of the darkness. Half his escort were down in an instant. An arrow glanced off his armor, while three took his Charger in the flank and neck. The animal screamed in pain, bucked, reared and collapsed. Matthias tired to leap free, but the dead animal crashed to the ground, crushing and pinning his left leg. Matthias cried out as the world turned white and then seemed to recede. Around him he could hear the screams of his men and the sound of battle.

    Trapped, Matthias could only watch half conscious as shadows came forth from the darkness clutching spears and axes as arrows continued to fly. Now his men were slaughtered. Jurgen managed to gallop out of the clearing, two arrows in him, but horsemen, with bows aloft, emerged from the trees and rode after him. Soon after, a single scream echoed through the the night as the camp itself became hushed, except for the moans of wounded men.

    The shadows became Turks, moving in among the wounded, ending their cries. A few circled Matthias, laughing, one roughly removed his helm. His vision began to swim, but Matthias could hear them talking in their foul language, all he could make out was his own name.

    A man strode towards Matthias through the Turks, who were now busy looting the dead. He, oddly enough, appeared to be a Greek, a military man by his bearing and dress. Standing over him, the eyes of the Greek danced with fire light. A small cold smile broke his features as he looked down on his prey.

    Matthias struggled to speak.

    "Why?"

    The Greek's boot lashed out, catching him in the temple. The world went black.


    Later

    Water splashed into Matthias's face, bringing him back to consciousness. A fire burned in his left leg.

    "Welcome to Caesarea, Matthias. I'm glad you could finally join us in the Citadel you claimed to help liberate."

    Sputtering, Matthias groggily looked up. He was in a dank room, most likely in the dungeon of Caesarea, if that was to be believed. The Greek stood before him holding a bucket. Looking down, his left leg was splinted, blood seeping through the bandages that covered it. He was bound to a chair. Torches on the walls cast a flickering red light across the cell.

    The light cast shadows along the Greek's face. Matthias could see scars and the grim set to his features.

    "Alvanites told me of the assistance you provided, but also the arrogant manner in which you conveyed yourself. Still, the damned fool allow himself to be used. Now that I am in command, such inequities will not occur. A new day is coming in the relationship between the Empire and you Germans. The Wheel turns."

    Matthias looked up at the Greek.

    "Have we met? I would like to know the name of my captor, the man who betrays an alliance."

    Swearing in Greek, the Greek viciously swung the bucket down onto his wounded leg. Matthias, despite his best efforts, howled in agony.

    "You are a piece of offal. My name is Strategos Nikeforos Argyrus, some call me 'the Mean'. And what exactly were you doing in Adana, dear ally? Preparing for the handover? Your sedition in the Diet is well known, as is your hatred of our Empire. No doubt you cheered when your Kaiser perished. Our intelligence also suggests you are one of those Lutherites, who opposes the true Orthodox Church. Do not speak to me of our alliance."

    Despite himself Matthias could not help but laugh, a manic gasp tinged with pain. "I do not follow Luther. I don't hate your Empire, I only wanted the Kaiser to give up this mad idea of Unification. Keep everything the way it was, that's all I wanted."

    Dropping the broken bucket, Nikeforos casually backhanded Matthias. His head snapped back.

    "It does not matter, you German pig, you are here for other reasons. Tell me, how many men garrison Adana?"

    Matthias looked up sharply, blood seeping from his mouth, "What!?"

    A blow to the stomach, "How many men?"

    It got worse from there. Questions about Adana, the defenses, the walls and passwords. Questions about the Prinz and King. Questions about the Armies of Outremer. And Pain, pain with the questions, pain by fist, pain by fire, pain by blade, over and over in a red haze until Matthias wasn't sure what he was saying or even if it was him screaming.

    At the end he fell into a merciful oblivion.

    Nikeforos looked down coldly at his victim, holding a red blade glowing in the torch light. Who knew if the information was reliable, but it did not matter too much. The garrison of Adana would be in a panic, looking for their commander. They would be disheartened when they found his bodyguard killed, the victim of a Turk ambush, and their Count gone, most likely dead. It was good sometimes that the Empire employed mercenaries, even those of the old enemy.

    Adana would be leaderless. The foolish German Kaiser and King of Outremer had ordered its transfer to the true Roman Empire. With Count Matthias out of the way, the crusaders would have to march out of Adana without a fight, and Nikeforos could march in unopposed. The Wheel would turn.
    Last edited by OverKnight; 10-27-2007 at 21:17.
    Chretien Saisset, Chevalier in the King of the Franks PBM

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