The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) by James Mercer (free children's ebooks pdf .TXT) 📕

  His friend was right. If they could prevent the enemy from reforming, the battle would be theirs. He could see that King Sancho’s royal bodyguard had already begun a pursuit. However their horses were fresh having been kept in reserve. Many, along with their King, had joined the fray but once their horses were pushed to the limit their squires had quickly returned to those wealthy enough to afford another and now they galloped after the fleeing survivors.

   “Rally the men still able to fight,” Robert called in a hoarse voice.

   “Aye sir,” replied the German.

  It was odd to hear his friend, who had far more experience than he, address him in such a way but it gave him confidence.

  Those still mounted hastily gathered to their leader and waited to hear his order.

   “Form two ranks, we advance at a trot only,” he ordered.

   “Only a trot? We should run the rancid bastards in to the ground,” argued one of the men.

  Cherik was about to cuff the man before Robert interjected.

   “Do that and that horse of yours will collapse before you reach the summit of the hill. We ride as one and we ride at my pace.”

   “Sir Robert is right,” came the voice of the Commander.

  To their surprise, Reynard pushed through the horses on foot as the men made a path for him.

   “Commander! Are you hurt?”

   “As bruised as the rest of us. One of the bastards pulled me from my horse. Well, don’t just gawp at me. Form ranks as Sir Robert said and someone find me another horse.”

  One of the men who had taken an injury to the side, gave up his horse gladly.

   “Right. Let us not allow the King to have all the fun,” said the Commander once he had hoisted himself into the saddle.

  “You there,” he called to one of the men. “Find Hamish and Wilfred and tell them we make for the enemy’s camp. Tell them to hold our infantrymen here, they’ve done more than enough this day.”

  After such battles, those men who survived the carnage of fighting in the front lines, always welcomed those orders. However as exhausted as they were they would still find the energy to strip the dead of anything of value.

As they began their slow but steady advance to the enemy encampment, Reynard did his best to dismiss the pain in his arm and shoulder which had come when he had been pulled from his mount. The attacker had lifted his axe above his head, intent on crushing the Commander’s helm and skull.

After blocking the first blow while still on his back, the Commander had succeeded in slicing open the warrior’s exposed midriff.

  Robert quickly glanced across at his friend. There was no battle joy on Reynard’s face only the look of fury.

  Continuing across the blood-sodden, battlefield they could see the slope which led up to the Almohad camp. It was scattered with the corpses of those who had tried to flee.

   “Slow horses,” shouted the Commander.

  Their palfreys and the few heavy destriers started to slow down. However, regardless of the extra weight of his own armour, Jupiter still eagerly strained forward and Robert had to pull hard on the horse’s reins to stop him from charging ahead.

   “He has the bloodlust,” said Ridley behind him.

  The dead bodies of unarmed men continued to cover the terrain as they traipsed to the beginning of the slope. King Sancho and his knights had spared none. But the King and his Navarrese entourage of knights had been too hasty and the gallop across the bloodied field, followed by the charge up the sloping terrain had already started to tire their horses.

   “Bloody cowards the lot of them. Why didn’t they turn and fight?” said Athaelstan.

  The Varangian had been looking down at the crushed and broken bodies who had been cut down from behind.

   “Would you have fought if you had just scrapped against warriors such as you?” replied Robert.

   “I would have fought to the end,” answered Athaelstan.

   “I can believe that.”

  There was a grunt of amusement from those within earshot.

   “Save your banter when the battle is won,” shouted the Commander. “We know not what may await us at the top of here.”

  As they reached the crest of the slope, they beheld the vast camp of the Almohad armies. Its expanse was large enough to be called a town. The Commander said nothing as he raised his hand, signalling the men to halt.

  Robert could finally sense the relief in Jupiter’s body as he took the chance to catch just a few moments rest.

   “God almighty, how many do you think are there?” asked Ridley.

   “Very few,” replied Robert.

   “Few? There must be fuckin’ hundreds of ‘em,” said another from the far left of the second rank.

   “More like a thousand. But look to the south ridge,” answered the Commander.

  In the far distance, on the southern side of the camp, they could see hundreds of men, some on horses and many more on foot. They ran without a second look back from the magnificent splendour of their vast, orderly camp.

   “Now hear this. There’ll be ripe pickings down there. Along with a good thousand or so servants and soldiers who’ll likely butcher you before giving up the plunder that they’re probably looting themselves right now,” shouted the Commander.

  There was a cheer from the men. Their pay was one thing. But plunder was where the real wealth came from.

   “Protect each other and let’s send the last of these bastards back to the south. For God and