NationStates Jolt Archive

The dark sea smashed nosily against the high rock walls of the Fortress-Island during the dead of night. THe Isle of Rhodes, it was called. A bare streach of Christianized rock not 10 miles from the heart of the Seljuk Empire, Rhodes was not just a fortress, but also the home of some of the most skilled and ferocious warriors in the land.

The Religion, the Seljuks called them. The Hellhounds of Rhodes. The Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of St. John of Jerusalem of Rhodes was their true name. Usually they were just known as the Knights of Saint John. Religious warriors who were as skilled a group of pirates as they were knights, the Hellhounds held the Island of Rhodes with such fanatisism that it had never even come close to falling from a Seljuk attack.

Gerard Thom sighed mightly from his bed. Gerard was the grandmaster of the Knights of St. John-the ultimate overseer of the order. Although his soldiers were among the best in the world, he had very few of them-less than 2,000 Knights and about 6,000 assorted soldiers. He only had seven galleys. Although Gerard commanded very skilled soldiers, he was also dangerously close to the Seljuk territory. Too close, by his reckoning. He knew the day would come when the Turks would launch a full-scale attack on the Island. No small amount of soldiers-no matter how skilled they were-could hold off hundreds of thousands of men.

Thus, Gerard rose from his bed and began writing. He needed allies. Consulting his map, Gerard decided to send letters to The Republic of Venice, The Byzantine Empire, The Kingdoms of Castill and Aragon, Kingdom of Two Sicilies, Holy Roman Empire, and The Papal States. They were all heavily christianized, and already friendly with the Knights of St. John. Any one of these nations would provide all the order needed. Gerard just hoped one of them would provide aid in time of need.

A Maltese Knight rushes into the main audience hall bearing a letter with the seal of Sicily for the Grand Master of the Knights of St. John.


Grand Master Gerard of the Knights of St. John,

My Lord and King, Roger I of Sicily, has heard your plea for aid and I, Duke Robert I de Malta, have sailed to Rhodes in an effort to reinforce your island against the Seljuk threat. However, our arrival was not an uneventful one, and we are the victims of a terrible storm. I have in my command 400 Knights with half that number in horses, and 1800 Men-at-Arms. We are however, prepared to fight to the death for the Soldiers of Christendom. Until you will formally accept us, we shall be in our make-shift camp, 5 miles to the West.

I pray God is on our side,

Robert I de Malta

The Knight stands wearily before the Grand Master as he eyes the letter, awaiting his return orders.

The Grand Master scanned through the letter quickly. An extra 2,200 skilled men, all willing to die in defence of Rhodes, or for a Crusade. Not nearly enough men to defend the island in case of a full-scale Seljuk attack, but enough to make life very difficult for any attackers. Gerard breathed heavily and turned towards the Maltese knight standing before him.

"Tell the Duke de Malta," began the Grand Master slowly, "That he will have full access to Rhodes and all of it's dealings when he arrives. His men are welcomed here. Warn him, however, of the possibility of a massive Seljuk attack. My knights have been distrupting Turkish shipping and raiding Seljuk boats for years now; the time might soon arrive when the Muslims decide to try and finish off Rhodes once and for all."

Gerard laid a heavy hand on the soldier's shoulder.

"Tell your countrymen to be prepared for a feast. The Knights of Saint John accept the Duke's offer."

In the last hours of daylight, the Knight rode back to the Maltese encampment. He swiftly dismounted and rushed to the Duke, who stood overseeing the men recovering from the storm at sea.

"My Lord! The Grand Master has accepted our promise of aid and welcomes our soldiers at their main fortress."

The Duke, and several others who had overheard the eager soldier, felt an immense burden lift from their spirits. Robert then rose to a position where he could address all his men, Knights and Infantry alike.

"Loyal Soldiers of Sicily and Malta, we ride tonight to the aid of the Grand Master of St. John's Knights. Make no mistake, a hard road is ahead of us, and many of us will not return home to our families. Remember that we do what we do to protect the servants of Christendom from a vile and alien race. But that is for another day, tonight, we will eat and drink, for in the morning, we prepare for battle."

The cheers of the soldiers could be heard all the way at the Grand Masters fortress.

For now, the Christian soldiers were safe.

How long..?

The Great Hall of the Citidel of Rhodes was soon filled with both the thousnads of Maltese and Rhodes soldiers; the royal cooks got as much ale and food as they could muster in such short time. Gerard has underestimated the Maltese; he saw, as he sat in his chair, that although each soldier had been through a huge amount of pain and suffering in recent times, each and every one was also willing to die for what they beilived. Gerard smiled. He now had over 10,000 men at his command.

The Grand Master stood up and waved for scilence. He got it.

"Friends of Malta. Now, my brothers-in-arms. You have come across a huge expance of water and death to come to the defence of our humble island. Although you may feast tonight, the following days may not look so bright. You have driven ahead through death, and now you may need to defend against it. Rhodes is but ten miles from the mighty Seljek Empire. We are but an annoyance, a small wasp, to this empire. Only ten thousand strong, with but seven red pirate ships as a fleet.

Yet, if an attack comes, together we will show how much our wasp's stinger can hurt. One only has to walk outside and look at the defences of the island to know this. My knights are not only fighting men, but many are also knowlagable scientests and engineers. To defend against the dreaded Turks, the Order of St. John have added many formidable fortifications to the island. Catupults and pots of hot oil run the leanth of the walls. Bastilla ports can sink ships with but a single flaming bolt. Every man in this room can, by himself, kill many enemies in hand-to-hand combat. Here, on Rhodes, I know for a fact that the few can defend against the many and be successful.

So, my Brothers, let us forget our troubles for now. Let us eat until we can eat no more. And we will wait. We will wait for the inevidible. And when the inevidible comes, we will make such a show that the Seljuks-and the world-cannot forget.

Now...Let us eat!"

The Knights and their infantry ate together that night, with no concern for status. They enjoyed the fine foods and hospitality of the Knights of St. John. However, the Duke had no appetite. He left the hall after the Grand Master's speech and took a walk on the battlements. He paced around the perimeter, surveying the island fortress and suddenly grew homesick.

The Seljuks would soon come, I'm sure of it. Sure, we'll fight valiently, but how long, hundreds of thousands of attackers...

He looked to the North and saw in the distance Asia Minor. Anatolia. Home of the Seljuk Turks. Former home of...

"No... It could never work!"

But the longer he thought, the more he was convinced. He ran back into the hall and nearly bowled over a few squires, drunk with ale. He pulled one to his feet and shook him violently.

"Where is the Grand Master! I must speak with him! I know how to stop the Seljuks!"

Duke Robert and the boy where then running down the hall as if the fires of Hell were right behind them.

Grand Master Gerard was biting into a delicious grouse and drinking from a chalice of some very fine Italian wine when he noticed the Duke of Malta, along with some page or servent boy, come rushing up the hall. Gerard frowned and rose from his seat to face the pair, who were breathing heavily, almost winded.

"My friends, what is wrong? You look as though you have seen some terrible demon from the pits of hell. Breath easy, my brothers! We are not under attack as of yet!"

The Duke clasped Grand Master Gerard by the shoulders, jolting into him with considerable force. The Knight swiftly recoiled from the jolt and stared attentively into the face of the winded Norman. Robert de Malta then caught his breath:

"Master Gerard," He began in a soft voice. "We both know, even with the men I brought, of our chances against an all out Seljuk attack."

The Grand Master made no response but both men knew it to be true.

"As you have said, we are 10 miles from Turkish land. Asian land. Anatolia."

The Duke paused dramatically, if he were going to convince the Grand Master of his plan, he would need to articulate every point.

"The Anatolian Plain has a rich history, changing hands several times throughout history. It even once served as the Roman Gateway to the East. However, more importantly is that it once belonged to the Byzantine throne."

A few men standing around the Duke and Grand Master began to understand the depths of his plan, and not only one was afraid.

"The Seljuks, while numerous and savage, are not a particularly unified people. Should they encounter misfortune, especially at the hands of a numerically inferior force, they may break like water on rocks. I am aware that you have sent emissaries to the major Christian nations for aid. But perhaps we can do better. I am sure that the Byzantines would delight at the prospects of recovering their former lands. If we could convince them that it was not only a defense of Christian people, but a chance for their own profit, we may be able to muster a force of thousands."

The Duke allowed himself a small smile as the Grand Master took in the last aspect of his plan:

"Friend Gerard, I propose we lead an armed expedition with Byzantine aid, not to defend Rhodes, but to reconquer Anatolia from the Turks!"

This last sentence he shouted with great zeal so that all the men in the room could hear his proclimation.

The Grand Master opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. He simply stared at de Malta for a few seconds before he could muster the energy to speak.

"My God, man," Wispered Gerard, in a barely audible voice. "You're brilliant!" He worked out the details in his head. He and de Malta combined had a force of 10,000 men-a powerful force, but nothing the Seljuks couldn't properly crush. Gerard knew that a direct assult into Seljuk territory would be suicide. With the help of the Byzantines, however...That would provide enought men to easily go on the defensive and completely distract the Turks from the annoyance of Rhodes for a long while. The campain would be even easier if other christian nations could be conviced to send aid. The Grand Master grabbed a Knight and spurred him in the direction of the Docks.

"Send another emmisary to Byzantium. Tell them that the Knights of Saint John and Malta wish to aid the Emperor in a campain to take back Anatolia from the Seljuks!" Gerard fumbled around with his sheath for a moment before drawing his long, hand-and-a-half sword, encrusted at the hilt with a massive emerald. He turned towards the assembed Knights.

"Knights of Saint John! Knights of Rhodes! Knights of Malta! We may no longer have to live in constant fear of a Seljuk attack on our Island! At the request of Duke de Malta, our combined armies, along with Byzantine forces, will begin to prepare to invade the land of Anatolia-the land of the Turks! We will take back land that was once christian, land that constantly threatens and attack us. We will rid ourselves of the Plauge of the Seljuks!"

Gerard thrusted his blade high in the air, it's Emerald hilt reflecting the light around it wildly.

"We prepare for war! We prepare for Victory!"

Knights roared with approval and banged tables with their fists. The feast was forgotten quickly; men started to pile out of the Citidel to prepare their weapons and armor. To prepare to go to their, perhaps glourious, deaths. Gerard Thom, The Grand of the Knights of Saint John, sheathed his sword and turned to Duke Robert de Malta. He grabbed his hand and shook it wildly.

"Thank you, Duke. Thank you. Your brilliance may just have saved Rhodes."

Duke Robert de Malta slowly unsheathed his longsword. Passed down to him by his father, and before him his grandfather. Épée de Cantelmo. The Sword of his family. Its polished blade reflected the beams of sunlight that were peaking above the beginnings of dawn. Duke Robert was, for the first time in over a year, at peace with himself. He was elated to find Grand Master Gerard agreed with his plan, and now it was time to finish up the last stages of planning.

As he strode into the meeting room, the Duke was met with a wild round of applause. Dismissing the eagerness of the soldiers, he motioned for them to sit down, and he began to speak,

"Friends, Brothers, Christians. Tonight we finish the last stages of our plans. We have dispatched emmissaries to the Byzantine Empire, detailing our plan and they are due back to return within a fortnight."

The Duke paused to let the mumbles of agreement and excitment pass by.

"As you all know, the plan is to sail 8,000 men to the coast of Asia (Anatolia) and link up with the Byzantine forces arriving from Constantinople. We expect minimal fighting, as our force will likely be unimportant for so disorganized a people. 200 of my Knights are without horses and will remain on Rhodes. Another 800 of our Men-at-Arms will stay behind to defend the Island, with an equal number (1,000) of the Knights of St. John. The rest of our soldiers will sail to Asia with us."

Clearing his throat, the Duke continued.

"Our main battle is to be expected at the Anatolian City of Iconium. It is the seat of Turkish power, home to the Sultan Süleyman and his vile armies. We expect to arrive first, and must successfully begin the seige and hold it until Byzantine aid can arrive."

The men became worried at this news, should the Byzantine aid arrive too late, or the seige not successful in opening, thousands of Seljuks could ride to the aid of their capital. If they did succeed though, the Turks would be crippled.

"We have made an offer to the Byzantine Emperor that any territory we reconquer to the West of Iconium will be theirs for the taking and to reclaim as their rule. Therefore, it is safe to expect that we will not be harried until we reach Iconium. Beyond Iconium however, there is good and bad news. The good news is, we will reclaim it for Christendom! But we must do so without Byzantine aid."

The men in the room looked grim, their eyes showing both eagerness and fear. They were about to do what no men in the West dreamed of, invading the East. The Duke rose from his seat and took a few steps towards the door,

"Rest easy men. Soon, we ride to war."

The cheers again followed behind...

"The Emir sends his apolgies, but Tunisia cannot risk a war as large as this at this time," said Abdul-Majid Barr ibn Fattah Shajee.

Barr, son-in-law of the Emir of Tunisia stood in the throne room of the Seljuk Turks at Iconium. He and his family had been sent to Iconium after the Emir recieved a desperate request for aid for the Seljuks.

"WHAT?" the Turkish Sultan roared. He jumped up off his throne as his face went livid. "How can your Emir turn us away?! Did he not understand that we are fellow moslems calling for help?!"

"This war is not Tunisia's concern," Barr clamly replied.

"It is Tunisia concern!" the Sultan retorted, "Not only is Islam under attack, but the Sicilians march with the Christians!"

"The Emir is well aware of that fact," Barr countered, his temper starting to rise.

"Yes, as I recall, when Sicily was attacked your Emir did nothing! He let the island fall! He let good moslem lands fall to Christians!" The Sultan spat out Christians like he had swore and gravely insulted the Emir. "And now he lets Antolia fall too? Why dosen't he just convert now and bow down to the Pope?!"

"The Emir will deal with Sicily when he chooses to!" Barr yelled, "Not before, not after, and not when anyone else says he should!"

The throne room went silent.

"Leave me," the Sultan said in a low, threatening voice.

"May Allah help you," Barr replied as he bowed mockingly and left the throne room.

*****

"The Sultan is an old fool," Barr told his wife Anjum, daughter of the Emir.

Barr and his wife were in their room of the house the Sultan and provided for them, their two children, and their escort.

"He has the right to be angry if he wishes it, I guess," Anjum shrugged.

"I wish we could leave sooner..." Barr said ruefully

"So do I," Anjum replied, "I don't feel comfortable with such a large army of Christians so close,"

"Don't worry, Anjum. Our spies will inform us when they get close to the city, and if we do get traped here, we will simply leave the city with a white flag. Once they realize we're relation to the Emir, they'll let us return to Tunisia peacefully. Just don't worry, everything will be alright. Now come to bed, it's late." Barr said as he blew out the lamp.

"Well you got what you wanted," Barr once again stood in the throne room of the Seljuk Turks.

"What?" the Sultan asked, confused.

"With this Christian force massing, the Emir feels Islam is threatened. He has agreed to join the Mameluke Empire's Jihad. It was originally meant to take lands in Antolia from the Byzantine Empire, but I'd imagine that with these Christians on your borders, the Jihad is bound to encounter them,"

The Sultan smiled and leaned back in his throne

"Maybe your Emir isn't as much of an idiot as I thought,"

"Don't get so cocky. It will take time for the Jihad to get here. For all we know, when it gets here, these lands may very well be Byzantine,"

"How many?"

"From Tunisia, eleven thousand seven hundred. I don't know how many from the Mameluke Empire, but I've heard rumors of eighty thousand,"

"Ninety-one thousand?!"

"Assuming the rumors are true and the Mamelukes have that many, which I doubt. Until the Jihad arrives you will have to do your best to defend yourself. I thank you for your hospitality and bid you farewell. I will be returning to Tunisia now. May Allah be with you when the Christians arrive," Barr said as he left the throne room and a still shocked Sultan.

Aleppo, Syria

A statement sent to Rhodes, Smyrna, and Constantinople.

The Great Seljuk Caliph, Malik Shah has heard that an Infidel Army is gathering to try and take away the lands that belong to him. The Sultan wishes it to be known that he has no control over the Turks expanding into Anatolia. These people are migrating across the land, taking city by city by the grace of Allah, and are allowed to do so by me.

If your army dares to enter my realm and attack Turkish peoples, they will be destroyed. My army has been gathering in Syria in anticipation of an assault upon Antioch and can rapidly turn to face any infantry threat coming through the mountainous central Anatolian region.

Econium is a Muslim city now and shall remain so. I have recently decided upon a temporary alliance with the other muslim states of the region as it is the best for our religion that Christianity is annihilated and Islam spread. I hear that an army of some 80,000 men, a great army indeed, is on its way up the Levant. With my men, perhaps it is an army great enough to even take Constantinople?

The Seljuk Army is repositioning itself around Malatya to watch Infidel movements. 30,000 men shall remain in Aleppo for now and 60,000 will march to Malatya. 20,000 men will biouvac at Konya.

Sultan Malik Shah

A man bearing the Royal seal was sent to the Grand Master of the Knights of St. John with the orders to give the Grand Master the Royal seal granting the authority to use any Sicilian ship or gain aide from any Sicilian or Maltese subject of the crown. As well as he bore this message;

"I grant you this so as to help you in the war against the Infidel, but currently I and my army are fighting in Spain against the Infidel there. So this I grant you in the hopes of it being able to aide you in the future.:

Signed,
King Roger I of Sicily