I Became The King Of Crusaders [EN]: Chapter 92

The Scent of the Cross (2)

* * *

“Ah, Count Hartmann, it’s good to see you again. Is His Highness doing well?”

Count Hartmann said, leaning forward.

“Having lived only in Outremer [the Levant, lands bordering the Eastern Mediterranean] since childhood, I imagine it must be difficult to adjust to the water and food here.”

“His Highness has not experienced any particular difficulties,” Aig said, looking around the tent.

Fully armed German knights and lords, every one of them had a grim look on their face.

“And I have not yet been knighted. Please, speak comfortably.”

“Is that so? Yet you attend to Duke Baldwin so closely. That is quite the privilege,” Count Hartmann said, tilting his wine glass.

“The Levant is truly a land of opportunity. Even those of humble origins can easily become knights. In the Empire, only nobles can become knights.”

“….”

Aig bowed his head instead of answering. The surrounding knights still looked at him with suspicion. He was used to this atmosphere—the atmosphere right before a fight. Aig swallowed hard without realizing it.

Did they notice something? Or were they simply trying to intimidate him?

“I heard that you, Aig, were the one who captured Al-Adil, the Sultan’s brother. Aren’t the other members jealous?”

“I only stalled for time until the others arrived,” Aig said. “And individual achievements are not that important in the Order. What matters is the defense of the Holy City.”

“The defense of the Holy City… That must be the most important thing for you.”

Silence fell. Count Hartmann leaned forward again.

“Your presence here must mean that His Highness has something to tell me. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, that is correct.” Aig looked at his opponent. He mustn’t hesitate or cower. He had to hide his true feelings to deceive the other party.

What kind of expression would Duke Baldwin have worn? If it were him, perhaps….

“His Highness wishes to withdraw from this conflict, as previously agreed,” Aig continued. “He believes that it is foolish for the Kingdom of Jerusalem to interfere in Italian affairs. It has no bearing on the defense of the Holy City. There is no need to waste Jerusalem’s precious knights here. Not even the Pope could offer compensation worthy of such a loss.”

Count Hartmann said. Aig noticed the suspicion in his voice. Was it just his imagination?

“But first, I must ask one thing. I heard some interesting rumors while crossing the mountains. Everyone says that Duke Baldwin has spread a considerable amount of gifts in Lombardy,” he continued. “So much that all the cities are on His Highness’s side. Is that true?”

“His Highness simply chose another method instead of directly intervening in the conflict. Since His Holiness the Pope directly requested support… he had no choice but to spend money.”

“That is correct.”

“….”

The atmosphere turned cold again. Aig looked at the scabbard at his waist. If a fight broke out, he had no intention of dying alone. At least two or three. He could take that many with him.

“And it was Baldwin IV, not His Highness, who requested supplies from the maritime cities and the Eastern Romans,” Aig said.

Count Hartmann put down his glass and smiled. “I understand what you mean. But I need more concrete proof. If His Highness truly intends to help our Empire… it would be best if he didn’t come to Vicenza. We should avoid any unpleasantness, shouldn’t we?”

“That is exactly what His Highness told me to convey,” Aig said. “His Highness plans to have only a minimal number of mercenaries join this allied force. There will be not a single knight.”

“A minimal number of mercenaries—just enough to save face. If the knights of Jerusalem do not join, I can trust His Highness’s promise,” the Count said. “We will soon see.”

He said, standing up. The atmosphere relaxed in an instant. Aig tried not to show his relief.

“Please convey this to His Highness: the Italian Communes [self-governing city-states] here are the kind of people who change their loyalty as easily as flipping their palms,” he continued. “Emperor Friedrich was crowned King of Italy in Pavia. Afterward, he helped the people of Pavia destroy Crema and Milan, who had rebelled.”

“….”

“But those ungrateful Pavians have now joined the Lombard League rebels. Italians are only thinking of stabbing you in the back,” he added. “Of course, I don’t think His Highness would change his words like the Italians…. But if he does, it will not only be bad for the Holy Roman Empire but also for the Holy City of Jerusalem.”

“I will convey that to His Highness exactly.”

“Ah, convey this as well.” The Count tapped his forehead with his finger. “The Holy Roman Empire and the Emperor remember everything—both favors and betrayals.”

“Duke Baldwin is the same way,” Aig replied with an indifferent expression.

* * *

A few days after the news spread that Count Hartmann’s vanguard was approaching Vicenza, the Lombard League army departed from Verona. Mostly knights and lightly armed cavalry. The infantry remained in Verona to prepare for defense.

“Long live the Lombard League!”

“Glory to His Holiness the Pope!”

The citizens of Verona came out beyond the city walls and cheered. Pope Lucio himself came out of the city and blessed all the allied forces. The sacred song echoed beyond the walls, but this atmosphere did not last.

“The Jerusalemites are running away!”

“They acted all high and mighty, but they’re running away before the fight!”

The knights of Jerusalem had deserted the army under the pretext of a plague. ‘Duke Baldwin has a fever!’ They left for the port of Rimini, using Duke Baldwin’s illness as an excuse. Only a few hundred mounted archer mercenaries joined the army. When this news spread, the morale of the allied forces plummeted. Some even threw fruit at the departing Jerusalem army.

“Traitors! When did you ever swagger in the arena, leaving only mercenaries behind?!”

Guido and the allied knights went around the army, trying to soothe these complaints.

“Our goal is to defeat the Emperor’s army! It doesn’t matter whether Jerusalem is with us or not! Let’s save Vicenza!”

The allied forces left under the command of the city’s nobles. Two days later, in the morning, they encountered the Holy Roman Empire’s army.

* * *

“Maintain your distance! Do not fall for their tricks!”

The first to clash were the scouts from both sides. A small number of light cavalry came and went, scouting each other. As if by agreement, they avoided fighting each other and approached the enemy camp—wolves observing their prey. As time passed, the information became clearer: the size of the forces, the flags representing the units, even the morale of the soldiers.

“Do you see the royal flag of Jerusalem? The Knights Hospitaller and the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre?”

“Only the Lombard cities. There are a few hundred mounted archers who look like mercenaries, but no knights.”

Count Hartmann stalled for time outside Vicenza, confirming the information. “We must strike them before more reinforcements arrive!”

“Wait until we get definite information. The Italians are the ones in a hurry, not us.”

Meanwhile, the citizens of Vicenza were repairing the walls in preparation for the siege. Wooden planks were hastily erected in the open spaces. Shepherds shouted as they moved sheep and cattle into the city.

“All men who can fight, take up arms! Let’s defend the city!”

A war of nerves continued for several days and nights. Every time the Holy Roman knights approached the city, the allied forces advanced. Then the Holy Roman knights would immediately retreat. The same tense tug-of-war was repeated for days. When one side found a weakness and advanced, the other side prepared for a counterattack and retreated. No decisive battle took place.

It was then that the Holy Roman spies from Verona arrived. The information they conveyed was all the same: [The main force of Jerusalem has left for the port of Rimini!] [The morale of the allied soldiers has plummeted!]

What that meant was simple: only the Lombard League army had come to intercept them. When this information became known, the Holy Roman camp was filled with shouts calling for battle. The knights openly expressed their dissatisfaction with the Count for delaying the battle.

“It is clear that His Highness has returned to the port as promised. There is no need to hesitate any longer. Count, make a decision!”

“The knights’ dissatisfaction is also growing. If we delay any longer… their reinforcements may arrive. I had no intention of avoiding a fight either.”

Thus, three days after the initial encounter, the two forces clashed in front of Vicenza.

“They’re coming!”

“Each unit, move to your positions!”

On the allied side, the Turcopole [lightly armed, often Turkish, mounted archers] mercenaries charged forward as the vanguard. Approaching within range, they rained arrows down on the Holy Roman knights. In response, crossbowmen from the Holy Roman camp came forward, but there were not many of them. Soon, the knights appeared at the front.

“Long live Emperor Friedrich, the defender of the faith!”

The German knights charged forward, facing the rain of arrows head-on. The arrows were blocked by their armor and bounced off, or struck the ground with a thud. Only the horses that were not armored fell. Even then, the knights quickly got up and mounted new warhorses waiting in the rear. Now it was the Holy Roman Empire’s turn.

“Charge!”

“For the Empire and the Emperor!”

Count Hartmann shouted, leading the charge himself. The knights roared and followed. The allied knights also split into left and right wings and charged towards the enemy. The knights from both sides collided in the center of the plain. Lances and shields broke, and knights fell beneath their horses. At that moment, the outcome was decided. Amid the chaotic clanging of metal, desperate cries rang out.

“Retreat! Retreat!”

“Everyone, retreat! Lower the flag!”

With a single charge, the Imperial army split the allied forces in two. Knights struck by lances fell from their horses. The allied cavalry scattered in all directions in confusion. The sound of horns signaling retreat shook the battlefield.

“Long live the Emperor! Long live the Holy Roman Empire!”

“Chase them down!”

The allied cavalry, who had remained in the rear, also turned their horses around and retreated. The Turcopole mercenaries did the same. Those who had maintained their distance from the enemy all fled south across the plain. The Imperial knights cheered and fiercely pursued them. They were all fired up after the tug-of-war that had lasted for three days. The horses galloped across the plain, panting.

“We must catch them all before their reinforcements arrive!”

They headed towards the Cataneos Forest along the southern Vicenza plain—a forest with dense trees on low hills. There, those who were waiting for them were present. Two figures appeared on the outskirts of the forest. A man wearing a silver mask lowered his telescope and said, “I didn’t expect them to come running like bulls in heat.”

“German knights tend to get excited easily,” the other figure said. “In the first place, it’s hard to control them once a battle breaks out. Now that the prey has entered….”

As he raised one hand, hundreds of horses appeared from among the trees—mounted archers holding bows. The Holy Cross followed behind.

“Now we must close the trap.”