Read Online Conrad's Last Campaign by Leo A Frankowski, Rodger Olsen, Chris Ciulla - Free Book Online
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States, some of them still intact since the First Crusade that started in 1096, and some which we had recently re-conquered, and made army property.
They all had painted wooden signs saying things like Ascalon, Two Miles . As the day passed, they said Jaffa , then Arsuf , and Caesarea . Acre went by, along with Sidon, Tripoli, Raud, and Tortosa. The names seemed to have magic in them.
We passed Masyaf, which had been an Assassin castle before they encountered the Christian Army.
The Assassins had hollowed out whole empires by carefully studying the men who ran them. The incompetent were left alone, but anyone who did his job well was selected for death.
One of their junior men, well-trained in the art of murder, was selected for each job. Before he left, they got him stoned out of his mind on Hashish. The words hashish and assassin have the same linguistic root. Then, he was taken to a large and lovely chamber that was stocked with the most beautiful young women that the Assassin leadership could obtain, often by kidnapping them and then torturing them into obedience.
The kid, who had lived a celibate life until then, was told that he was being given a taste of the heaven that was awaiting him, if he succeeded in his mission. A slightly lesser fate awaited him if he failed, but had done his best.
Indoctrinated and drugged, he believed them.
And after the mission, whether he had killed his man or not, he committed suicide, in order to obtain his eternal prize.
It had taken us two days to smash the place, and we had killed every adult man there. Some people just needed killing!
The women and children were spared, of course. We weren’t Mongols, after all.
Sahyun went by an hour before sunset.
For me, these were all magical names, and magical places, but I’d never visited them. There just hadn’t been time. Someday, much later, I hoped to have a chance to look them over. This was assuming that I survived the current mission, of course.
At sunset, the column stopped. The length of track we took up had grown another ten miles during the day, and almost all of the new carts had been put in front. A few, catching up with the rest of us, were added to the rear. But I was still just ahead of the rear guard, as we camped well south of the City of Antioch.
The carts were left on the track. The Big People towing them released themselves, and went out looking for food, over two hundred pounds of it per Big Person per night. Those Big People being ridden were unsaddled, although they too could release their saddles. There was a leather strap between their front legs that pulled a large pin out of the cinch strap. Then the ridden Big People also went out foraging, and guarding the camp. The men set up a sixty mile long camp on both sides of the track.
Setting up camp only took a few minutes, and most of that was spent finding firewood. We weren’t cooking anything, but people still like to sit around a fire and talk for a bit before going to bed.
The army used green, oiled cotton, six-man dome tents, with floors, zippers, and window screens. They were tall enough to stand in, they set up quickly, and they were a good design.
I, however, had picked up an Arabian tent when I was in Timbuktu. It was quite large, made of royal blue silk, and had a lot of real gold embroidery on it. Call it vanity if you want to, but I liked it, so I brought it along.
I also had a large camp table, plenty of camp stools, and a few other amenities, like wall-to-wall carpeting, a liquor cabinet, and a large, recently acquired air mattress. I told myself that this tent let me conduct meetings, and to be a proper host to visiting dignitaries, but mostly, I just like to be comfortable.
I’d also brought along a sufficient supply of brandy and cigars. I’d promised my men that I’d be eating the same food that they would, and I did, but rank has a few privileges!
I had a lance of men whose job was to do the camp work, as well as a lance of
They all had painted wooden signs saying things like Ascalon, Two Miles . As the day passed, they said Jaffa , then Arsuf , and Caesarea . Acre went by, along with Sidon, Tripoli, Raud, and Tortosa. The names seemed to have magic in them.
We passed Masyaf, which had been an Assassin castle before they encountered the Christian Army.
The Assassins had hollowed out whole empires by carefully studying the men who ran them. The incompetent were left alone, but anyone who did his job well was selected for death.
One of their junior men, well-trained in the art of murder, was selected for each job. Before he left, they got him stoned out of his mind on Hashish. The words hashish and assassin have the same linguistic root. Then, he was taken to a large and lovely chamber that was stocked with the most beautiful young women that the Assassin leadership could obtain, often by kidnapping them and then torturing them into obedience.
The kid, who had lived a celibate life until then, was told that he was being given a taste of the heaven that was awaiting him, if he succeeded in his mission. A slightly lesser fate awaited him if he failed, but had done his best.
Indoctrinated and drugged, he believed them.
And after the mission, whether he had killed his man or not, he committed suicide, in order to obtain his eternal prize.
It had taken us two days to smash the place, and we had killed every adult man there. Some people just needed killing!
The women and children were spared, of course. We weren’t Mongols, after all.
Sahyun went by an hour before sunset.
For me, these were all magical names, and magical places, but I’d never visited them. There just hadn’t been time. Someday, much later, I hoped to have a chance to look them over. This was assuming that I survived the current mission, of course.
At sunset, the column stopped. The length of track we took up had grown another ten miles during the day, and almost all of the new carts had been put in front. A few, catching up with the rest of us, were added to the rear. But I was still just ahead of the rear guard, as we camped well south of the City of Antioch.
The carts were left on the track. The Big People towing them released themselves, and went out looking for food, over two hundred pounds of it per Big Person per night. Those Big People being ridden were unsaddled, although they too could release their saddles. There was a leather strap between their front legs that pulled a large pin out of the cinch strap. Then the ridden Big People also went out foraging, and guarding the camp. The men set up a sixty mile long camp on both sides of the track.
Setting up camp only took a few minutes, and most of that was spent finding firewood. We weren’t cooking anything, but people still like to sit around a fire and talk for a bit before going to bed.
The army used green, oiled cotton, six-man dome tents, with floors, zippers, and window screens. They were tall enough to stand in, they set up quickly, and they were a good design.
I, however, had picked up an Arabian tent when I was in Timbuktu. It was quite large, made of royal blue silk, and had a lot of real gold embroidery on it. Call it vanity if you want to, but I liked it, so I brought it along.
I also had a large camp table, plenty of camp stools, and a few other amenities, like wall-to-wall carpeting, a liquor cabinet, and a large, recently acquired air mattress. I told myself that this tent let me conduct meetings, and to be a proper host to visiting dignitaries, but mostly, I just like to be comfortable.
I’d also brought along a sufficient supply of brandy and cigars. I’d promised my men that I’d be eating the same food that they would, and I did, but rank has a few privileges!
I had a lance of men whose job was to do the camp work, as well as a lance of
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