บท 12: LEGEND OF THE BLOOD PACK I

"Wow! That is some terrific story about your four cats Commander." Knight Yosef exclaimed after hearing from Commander Gallo the story of the four young knights.

By then, it was already dark. The night sky was clear, littered with countless stars, some winking out and other streaking across the sky.

"Knight Yosef, it is getting late. Get some rest as I take guard duty. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow." Commander Gallo told him.

The next day, after some heavy breakfast in the early morning. Yosef with the 'Blood Pack' of Commander Gallo resumed their journey across the arid and desolate landscape.

Along the way, Knight Yosef decided to ask the question he had not had the time to ask but had been lingering on his mind the whole night.

"Commander Gallo, have been asking myself. Why were you and the squad nicknamed the ' Blood Pack'?"

"Hahahha, your question reminds me of those sweet and sordid days. We earned the name fair and square like this-

During the fight for Jaffa with King Richard the Lionheart in early September 1191. Sultan Saladin was not budging from Jaffa city, he had stationed some battle-hardened troops of about 100 strong men on the dock of Jaffa to fight off any crusaders that could try to dock and capture the port. Initial attempts to take the dock via boats and ships had been unsuccessful. I know what you want to say, one hundred is a small group to ward off a sizeable troop, this was his elite troop and try as we might. We lost several times.

Moreover, most of our assets were at sea, and we could not use them since the only usable port in several miles was not in our control.

Not until the crazy son of woman Marino Yosef came up with the idea of our squad of twenty men being sent in to clear these hundred troops at the dock. Thinking about it now, this knight must have been idle and homesick for the sea, probably he wanted to die next to the sea as it could be a familiar scene like in his hometown of Venice.

What you have to know, is that at that time, the battle was intense, despite our efforts to conquer Jaffa. Saladin was pouring at us an endless stream of frenzied Muslim soldiers who never cared about how we hurt them but how they could at least kill some or all of us. Dying was easy, and living was hard. Hunger was also setting in, our major supplies were at sea, and you can imagine our despair knowing that they were there but could not reach us. At first, we sent some knights to hunt small game, but the Holy Land being a desolate and sandy region ever since the Romans under General Titus destroyed everything of value in the Holy Land, and chased away the Jews who had taken care of the land in 70AD. The following conquerors especially the Islamic armies knew of only slaughter and plunder, they left the land more desolate than they found it.

We could fight and die during the day; at night we could have a short reprieve to collect our dead and then resume from where stopped the previous evening the next day. Those who could cry, cried for their lost brothers until there were no more tears left to shed. Death could come for anyone, whether Commander, knight, sergeant, or draper. The fields outside Jaffa were slaughterhouses of men and horses.

So, Marino Yosef, one night after burying our dead went into the tent of Marshal Enock and pitched the crazy idea. To his credit, Marshal Enock bought the idea and called over our squad.

The cunning fellow to save my face had presented the idea as mine and him as the messenger. Here we were before the Marshal and he was briefing us on the merit of our plan, it stood a high chance of breaking the dreadlock at the port and allowing the Templars to pour in fresh troops and supplies from Acre and Tyre. My lads looked at me questioningly, wondering why I had not informed them of this suicide mission. There I stood ashamed, pissed off, but had to put up with it as Commander and not expose the fact that I had lost control of my knight.

Marshal Enock agreed with his plan, that we strike at night past midnight when the defenders at the dock were getting confident that no attack could arrive. We were to create a huge commotion of mourning and wailing in our camp. Set up a large bonfire, with lots of sorrowful hymns to draw away attention from our small twenty men squad sneaking off towards the beach before slowly moving to the dock.

We were to split into three teams. One team was to attack from the front using the cover of darkness to cause a ruckus, while the other two teams attack from opposite sides of the dock creating the impression that they were under attack from a mighty army from the three sides.

Like with all plans. Once we got started, nothing went according to plan. First and foremost, along the way, it began to rain heavily for the first time in many months. This impeded our progress, we had to seek shelter under some rocks on the beach as it continued to rain. Luckily for us, we found a slightly hidden cave next to the rocks we meant to shelter in.

The thing about rain during a night operation is that it spoils the already poor visibility, and messes up the ground with mud. Should you make the horse go faster, it stands a chance of skidding and falling, injuring itself but more so the rider, in worse circumstances, some riders break their necks and die instantly. Not forgetting the holes or ditches littering the place that are unknown to you. Frustrating as it was, I had to halt the charge as a commander. For some time we waited in this cave by the beach for the rain to reduce somewhat.

God is a gracious Father! Sometime past midnight. The rain stopped completely and the full moon was rising over the horizon giving us some much-needed visibility. It was a blessing but a problem at the same time, our approach could be seen should there be some scouts watching.

One of my men, John Conti, the one I told you about from Lombardy, suggested that we take off our Knight Templar robes so that we could not be easily identified, he had a valid point since the white and red cross stood out brazenly on a dark night like a firefly. However, I adamantly refused. We live as Knight Templars, fight as Knight Templars and die as Knight Templars. We cannot be like the cowardly Assassin Order members who kill from the shadows and flee back into the dark.

Speaking of the Assassin's Order, when we left the cave and were slowly approaching the camp. An arrow whizzed by in the silent night and struck one of my lads Seth, the arrow entered his eye socket and lodged itself in his brain. As we tried to find where the arrow came from, Seth had fallen from his horse, already dead on the wet beach sand. Immediately we formed a circle and covered ourselves with the shields, trying to find where the concealed assailants were shooting from.

The assassins continued shooting at us, shooting several arrows at us. Being shielded they came naught until they became creative and aimed low where the shields were not covering. The horse of one of my knights Rembrant was struck and it fell down with him on it, luckily, he was not hurt.

Bruno who was shielding the flank was shot in the kneecap and the cry he made could wake the dead. Hope it never happens to you, an arrow in the kneecap is a nasty affair, it can cut through the tendons, and ligaments and damage those interconnecting bones depending on the size and material of the arrowhead. We knew straightaway Bruno was going to lose that leg at best but none of us voiced it out. Forcefully, he winced and drew the arrow out of the knee, blood gushed out. He struggled not to cry as he wrapped his scarf around the bleeding knee. His courage was admirable.

By now, we had identified where the cowardly Assassins were hiding to shoot at us. Rembrant jumped on Seth's riderless horse and was joined by Bruno and Manuel. They chased after these despicable cowards while we continued on our way. Later on, they joined us, only that it was now one knight short. The deeply injured Bruno did not make it but died valiantly having taken down three enemies while fighting on horseback since he could not use his injured knee.

It turned out that the shooters were part of a group of a ten-man patrol team that had spotted us as the moon came up. They paid dearly for seeing us, Bruno, Manuel, and Rembrant ensured that none of them was able to ride back to report our approach. My lads did not come out unscathed, Rembrant and Manuel were bleeding from wounds on their shoulder and stomach where the spears of the enemies had broken through their chainmail. We stopped briefly and dressed their wounds.

Before we even encountered the main force of the defenders. We were already two men short, with two men grievously wounded. This annoyed me greatly while lowering the spirits of my men. The odds were not good to their eyes, 18 against 100 with a possibility of the 100 getting reinforcement."

"Knight Templars, cheer up! We are born to protect Christendom and chase these Muslim warriors from the Holy Land. Yes, we have lost our good brothers Bruno and Seth but we are not defeated. Our good father David in the Bible slew giants and thousands of heathen warriors in this very land without despairing or lamenting against the odds stamped against him without complaining.

What about his warriors: Josheb-Basshebeth the Tachmonite, Adino the Eznite, Eleazar the son of Dodo, Shammah the son of Agee, Joab and his brother Asahel? Did any of them complain against the great odds against them or did they faithfully rush in and fight until none of their enemies remained!"

"Templars are you with me??" I asked them.

"Yes, commander!" They roared back.

"What are we good at it?" I asked them.

"We are good at fighting all enemies of Christianity and bringing Glory to the name of our Lord and His Holiness the Pope! Commander, we are ready to secure Jaffa port!" They shouted.

"Ride with me to Glory my valiant Knight Templars!" I told them as we rode at breakneck speed to the dock.

"By now the tents of the Muslim troops stationed at the port of Jaffa were in our sights. The orange moon in the sky was casting the ground and sea in a soft and radiant glow. It was a perfect night to kill our enemies as the heavens gazed at us in their glory.

My squad spilt up into three formations; so that we were to attack these Muslim troops defending the dock in a pincer movement style. Had assigned six knights to each attack formation, and I led the frontal formation, the scholarly knight Marino Yosef the author of this suicide mission led the left formation, and the right formation was left to the reliable and more experienced John Conti of Lombardy.

With the moon anointing us with its gaze, the thunderous noise of our horses galloping over the wet ground, and the shouts of our battle cry breaking the slumber of the sleeping Muslim

Swords raised, lances drawn, and crutching onto shields in the other hand, we fiercely rode in. Ready to start the slaughter of our enemies thereby rescuing the port.