Episode 146
“Urgent news from the center! The Holy Roman Empire’s knights have clashed with our forces! We can’t hold them back!”
“The left rear has been breached by the English! Reports say the one leading them is wearing Marshal’s armor…!”
“The French forces are approaching! General!”
“General! His Majesty is asking for you!”
“General! Generaaaal!”
Amidst the frantic cries of his subordinates, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place for Muhammad. The Crusaders had raised the prophet’s banner in unison, and whether the one leading the English was truly who they claimed to be was still uncertain.
Perhaps the Crusaders were using Marshal’s death to orchestrate a massive deception. But instinctively, Muhammad knew that was just wishful thinking. The Crusaders’ unified movement indicated that everything had been pre-discussed, and for that, a central figure like the prophet was essential.
“But how… how could this be possible?”
The proposal to assassinate the prophet hadn’t come from them. It was first suggested by Syria and Alamut, and even then, it was to be executed after thorough consideration. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed those two groups had been in league with the Crusaders from the start.
But how could that be?
Even in this dire situation, Muhammad couldn’t suppress the rising doubts. When faced with incomprehensible truths, people often retreat into denial. The shock he felt was that profound.
“How could they, who couldn’t even command Khwarezm and Ayyubid, manage to…”
“General! The situation is critical. We need orders…!”
Despite his subordinates’ urgent pleas, Muhammad responded with half-dazed words.
“Do you understand? How did they manage to sway Syria and Alamut?”
“Sir? I’m not sure what you mean…”
“We’ve been in the palm of their hands from the start! We’ve been played by those wretched Assassins!”
“Are you saying this was all a trap?”
Strictly speaking, a commander should never show weakness, no matter how dire the situation. If the leader appears anxious, that anxiety spreads like a plague through the ranks, extinguishing any hope of victory.
Muhammad knew this well, and under normal circumstances, he would never have acted this way. But it wasn’t just that they were losing the war; his very mental state had been shattered, leaving him no room for such considerations.
“I can’t understand… No, if Alamut and Syria were truly in league with the Crusaders, there would have been signs, so why didn’t we notice?”
“General! We need to focus on reorganizing the troops rather than…”
“No. If they were swayed by Marshal instead of the Crusaders…”
That would explain why they hadn’t noticed anything. There’s an old saying: to deceive your enemies, first deceive your allies. If the Crusaders weren’t aware of the full details of the plan from the start, it would have been impossible for them to detect any discrepancies.
Yet, even with this line of thinking, a fundamental question remained unanswered.
-When and how did Marshal manage to gain control over Syria and Alamut?
Even Tekish, who had elevated Khwarezm to a great empire, and Saladin, celebrated as the greatest Islamic ruler for reclaiming the Holy Land, couldn’t command them. These were the mad Shiite assassins, untamed by anyone.
This was the perception of the Assassins in the Islamic world, and it wasn’t far from the truth. So how could these madmen have fallen under the sway of a con artist from Europe?
It was incomprehensible. And because it was incomprehensible, doubts naturally arose.
‘Could it be… could it be that he’s not a fake? No, it can’t be. It mustn’t be.’
It was something he could never accept, something he mustn’t accept. Accepting this hypothesis would mean Khwarezm had become a traitor to Islam, raising a sword against the apostle.
But if not this, then the current situation defied explanation. An unbelievable reality…
“No, perhaps this is a dream? If I’m having a nightmare… Yes, this must be a nightmare.”
Slap!
”…Damn it. That hurts.”
Without a second thought, he slapped his cheek, and the dull pain brought forth a curse. Was he now unable to even escape into denial?
Yet, thanks to the slap, his mind cleared a bit. First, he needed to regroup the troops… but what then?
With attacks coming from all sides, facing them head-on was impossible. To be blunt, this battle was already lost. The only option left was to retreat, but even that seemed unlikely.
Breaking through the front was out of the question, and the left rear was no better. The only potential escape was through the French side, but with the center and left rear already breached, time was running out.
In the end, there was only one option left… and whether by fortune or misfortune, that sole possibility was rapidly approaching on horseback.
“General! What’s happening? The Crusaders are closing in from all sides. We’ve redirected the troops holding back the Holy Roman side to the English, but we’re still short on strength. I came directly because there was no response to our request for reinforcements…”
”…Timur. We’ve been completely deceived by the Crusaders. I trust you understand without further explanation?”
“Sir? Surely not…”
“Yes, it’s exactly that. For now, the priority is to ensure His Majesty’s safety. But the situation is dire. As you said, the only escape route is to break through before the French close in, but if we delay, the English will catch us from behind.”
Timur, the Amir and loyal subject whom Muhammad and Tekish trusted most in this war, fully understood his lord’s words. Not just the surface meaning, but the deeper implications as well.
Seeing Timur’s expression, Muhammad realized his subordinate understood everything. If only he had expressed dissatisfaction or resentment, it might have been easier, but his calm demeanor only deepened Muhammad’s guilt.
“Timur, if you’re unwilling, find someone else…”
“Muhammad, thank you for entrusting me with this crucial task until the end. I’ll lead the remaining troops and hold back the English. In the meantime, please ensure His Majesty’s safe escape.”
”…I’m sorry.”
“No need. We can’t let everything end like this. As long as His Majesty and you, the heir, remain, Khwarezm can rise again.”
“Mi… No. Yes, fulfill your duty to the end. It doesn’t matter if you wipe out the English and rejoin us.”
Seeing his subordinate’s resolute voice and unwavering eyes, Muhammad swallowed his apology. He knew well that a clumsy apology to a loyal subject ready to sacrifice himself for the nation’s future would be an insult.
“Go ahead. If I get the chance, I’ll bring Richard’s head as a gift.”
“Yes. If possible, bring the head of that fake prophet too.”
“Hahaha! I’ll try.”
Even knowing it was impossible, no one voiced it. Instead, if they managed to escape this place, they would recover their strength over years, even decades, and seek revenge.
Not just against the Crusaders, but also the Assassins who had trapped them. They would ensure that every one of those who had humiliated them would beg for death, tasting the torments of hell.
Believing this to be the only way to honor the fallen comrades of this war, Muhammad gathered the remaining soldiers and rode in the opposite direction of Timur.
The blood on my hands was bothersome. I had lost count of how many hearts I had pierced with my spear today.
The only consolation was that I was getting used to following Richard, who was swinging his axe wildly ahead of me. Thanks to constant training and preparation for assassination attempts, I had maintained my physical condition even after leaving the battlefield.
Though not as formidable as Richard, I had once earned the reputation of the finest knight in the Crusaders. Sweeping through the half-collapsed Islamic forces after Richard’s initial assault was no challenge.
“Your Majesty! If we keep pushing forward, we’ll reach their main camp. Don’t change direction, just keep charging!”
“I was planning to do just that!”
Richard took a swig from the water bottle tied to his saddle while swinging his axe with the other hand, cleanly decapitating an Islamic soldier.
If there were a machine designed for human slaughter, it would look just like him. Richard, having completely let go of the reins and focusing solely on combat, was on a different level.
His previous claims of holding back to monitor the situation of both allied and enemy forces seemed to be true. While this increased the burden on me, who was effectively driving Richard’s brain, the efficiency was undeniable.
As proof…
We had carved a highway through the enemy lines wide enough for a carriage to pass. The breakthrough was happening much faster than anticipated.
With this pace, I felt confident enough to push our advantage even further.
“Alright! Our target is the enemy sultan. Let’s push forward and join forces with the French troops coming up from the south!”
“Yeah!”
“Let’s wipe them all out!”
With our king and prophet leading the charge, cutting down the enemy, the morale of our knights and soldiers was sky-high.
In stark contrast, the Khwarazmian army, being mercilessly slaughtered, was visibly on the brink of collapse.
If things are this chaotic, a little more pressure might make them crumble on their own without us having to do much more.
Richard seemed to sense this instinctively, and he deliberately killed the enemy with even more brutality, letting out a fearsome roar.
But what we know, they know too.
A group of cavalry charged fiercely towards us, aiming to support their crumbling allies.
“Your Majesty! Enemy reinforcements ahead.”
“I’m aware!”
“Then perhaps we should regroup here and—”
Before I could finish, Richard, accompanied by a group of knights, charged straight at the approaching enemy.
Honestly, can’t he just take a moment to regroup before rushing in again?
When there’s a chance to catch our breath, I need to remind him to consider those following him.
Just then, the enemy commander leading the charge raised his spear and shouted at Richard.
“King of England! No matter who you are, you won’t take another step past here. I am Timur, under orders from His Majesty—”
Thud!
“Tsk. Why do they all talk so much?”
“Ugh… I… need more time…”
Before the enemy could finish his sentence, Richard drove his spear into the man’s chest, not even sparing a glance at the collapsing Khwarazmian commander as he continued to cut down the remaining soldiers.
I wondered what more that commander had wanted to say.
As I passed by the now-silent body of the enemy leader, I silently continued to fight alongside Richard.
“Come to think of it, wasn’t he trying to say something earlier? I was too busy dealing with that protruding enemy line to catch it. What was it?”
“Uh… nothing important. Just a bold thrust, that’s all. Ha ha, ha ha ha!”
“Really? I was already annoyed with their incomprehensible babbling. I guess I was a bit irritated. I’ll need to pace myself; there are hundreds more to deal with. Ha ha ha!”
The louder our laughter grew, the wider the arc of flying enemy heads became.
It took less than thirty minutes for the Khwarazmian reinforcements, who had so boldly tried to block us, to be silenced.