NationStates Jolt Archive

Seljuk attack on Christian lands in anticipations of an invasion by Crusaders has begun. Antioch is the first target.

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The harsh sands of the desert whipped along the feet of many men, the quiet loudness that made the bleakness a wonder to any man who truly beheld it for what it was. The silence was all the more to behold for the backdrop it loomed over. The desert on this day was painted by more than just grey, sand, and silence - it was populated by something seen a thousand times, yet new in every way. The long line stretched back into the darkness, creating a confused feeling that this inestimable line was nothing more than a mirage.

Yet it was much more than that. The dark shape stretched forth was his army. The army he had led across the far, deserted corners of the world, and now, past them. The Great Sultan Malik, Shah of the Seljuks, stood in stark stillness that contrasted greatly with what he watched pass him. His army... 72,100 men, the best he had to offer, divided into many, many groupings. Each of his mighty corps carried a legacy, the idea of the great horseman of the steppe, the cavalryman, the archer, the independent man in the service of something so much less individual than could ever be imagined. Each of these men, independent each - was the servant of the Him, not just the sultan, but the caliph, and all were servants of Allah, he whose message was brought so many years ago by Muhammad, without whom they were all lost...

God is great, the Sultan's thought screamed in the silence. And here they were to prove it. In his younger years he would have been content to lead a mighty empire, to administer and teach to those who would come after him. Be a strong leader, be righteous with all subjects, help the poor. Yet now was a new time. News had reached him, as if across a great divide that he could not remain in seclusion forever. The accursed Infidels, carriers of the bent Cross would not leave, would not be taught. A letter had arrived starkly in his lap, happily in his capital of beauty and wonder. Amazed at the print yet turning it over softly, he remembered the feeling it had beholden in him. He still had the letter, tucked far into his royal sack, where no man could see into its darkness. And the land of Allah will burn...

So it had come to this finality. The powers of evil had reached into his happiness, into his serene power, and torn him from his love, his children, oh... Christian knights were gathering along his border, and the storm clouds of many more loomed behind them. They were men, if any could be called that. They fought well and were fierce behind their walls of stone, steel, and resolve. The fools were strong, but our men were the smarter. The enemy can be overcome, as they had many times before. It was in his lifetime, he mused, that the powerful Romans had been overcome - he had seen them run, their leader captured, their lands overrun. It was only time until the Roman Empire, fell. But others lay behind, and the time for that encounter was nigh. And so the Sultan watched his men, and watched them well. My brothers, my sons, your history will be written forever, the tales of your bravery retold over and over.

For these are the times men are made for, times of silence and times of death. For a moment all was dark as a heavy branch of sand in the clouds obscured all. Many men bent low, shielding their eyes for fear of pain. Oh yes, there was fear, for only a fool would disagree with that. And then once again the Army marched. The Sultan's great force was headed for one destination, Antioch. The ancient capital, the city of bulwarks and tall men. From their, perhaps a greater city, and more worthy foe, yet none could tell. The Sultan knew the time had come to act, and so the string of strong cities stretching along the Great Sea woud be stormed and they would be taken, Constantinope would be the last.

The Sultan knew that his army would be backed by fellow Muslims, protectors of the Crescent. The Mamelukes and Tunisians were proud peoples, oft enemies, greater as allies. Now behind him they gathered, they would aid his jihad, their jihad. For if the Great Infidel wants a war, then perhaps more than just the lands off Allah will burn, but the lands of the Eternal City would be upended, the courses of mankind turned. Now is when man fought. The sand hid the great army as it marched north. Antioch and destiny lay ahead.

The Mameluke/Tunisian Camp, west of Alexandria

"Get this tent down, hurry!" a commander ordered his men.

It had been 3 days since the Tunisians had arrived at the camp location, which now was full of activity as the camp was dismantled and the Jihad perpared to march. Slaves, servants, and soldiers alike hustled to tear down the tents and pack them onto camels and wagons.

A half an hour later, on the Mameluke side of the camp two men, Emir Abu Tahir Tamim ibn al-Muizz, Emir of Tunisia, and Sultan Sulejman I, Sultan of the Mameluke Empire, came out of the royal tent.

The Sultan's tent was one of the last to go down. Were there had been a city of tents just a few hours ago, there was now empty land again. The two leaders watched as the last tent went down.

"FORM RANKS! FORM RANKS!" commanders ordered as their men obeyed.

"We must make haste to the Turkish lands," the Emir said as he mounted his horse, "I fear the war has already started,"

"Do not worry, my friend, Islam will prevail," the Sultan reassured him.

"I pray it will," the Emir said as he rode off to the Tunisian army to the west. He took his position at the lead of the long column the Tuisians had formed.

"Give the order," the Emir told one of his generals.

"MARCH!" the general ordered.

"MARCH! MARCH! MARCH!" the order echoed down the column as the commanders repeated it to their men.

Slowly, the army began to move. Ahead of them, the Mamelukes had formed a similar column and were also slowly beginning to move.

To the east, then our road turns north, and finally west, into Anatolia, and war...

The Emir looked over his shoulder, at the brave men who were now marching far from home, possibly to their deaths.

...but to defend the true faith, Islam.

He looked to the north. There, across the sea was where Allah had placed their destinies.

It is in Anatolia, where we will prove our faith. It is there the whole world will see the Islam defeat the Christians. It is there that Allah will show that he favors those who followed his commandments, worshipped only him, and not Christ, no matter how great a man he was.

He smiled, more confident having reassured himself.

The Jihad had begun.

"Father, Word has reached our borders that the Moslems make on the province of Antioch!"

The Prince who had slumped over to listen to his wife was now stretched up, he had a look of urgency upon his face and suddenly snapped into action.

"Quickly, finish mobilising the soldiers, send word to Yuroslav and have a messenger sent ahead telling the Romans that help is on it's way!!!"

**** **** ****

Rather hastily the mob of Peasants joined ranks with the Boyar cavalry as they sped off around the Black sea, time was no longer a luxury it was an essence.

9:13 March 12, 1091
Antioch, Syria

Screams resounded far across the desolate terrain peculiar for its lack of any real features, echoing in the low hills characterizing the land. Men and women fled in terror, holding children and what few belongings they possessed in their miserable lives. All around them the sound of hoves boomed and the whir of arrows screamed as if in agonizing pain. The sky was painted red and black from the many fires that raged all around.

And high on the only real hill in the semi-desert stood the city with its tall walls outstretched as if daring one to bring them down. The city of Antioch ordinarily gave off a feel of power and wealth, protected by its towers and surrounded by its many villages and well-irrigated fields. But all were now gone, consumed by the fire that roared across the landscape, the first echelon of something even more fearful. The city grew quiet as many viewed across the expanse, huddled low against the high walls.

The Seljuk Army had arrived.

Against the sky line, many men on horseback were seen, torches held high as they moved to burn what few huts and fields remained untouched. The great force had advanced slowly through northern Syria, destroying all that lay in its path, facing no foe as all had fallen back to the city.

Antioch, the capital of Northern Syria, was a formidable city, one well fortified, but sadly lacking in troops ever since the Byzantine defeat at Manzikert. In the years since that defeat, the Turks had been slowly inching into Anatolia and Syria. Yet several key points had eluded them. The mighty walled cities of Antioch, Trebizond, Tarsus, and Sardis had held against the Turks. That was now going to change.

Well into the front rank of the Seljuk cavalry stood two men, the former taller than the rest, heavily built with a jagged scare seen to travel from his low cheek down his neck. The man's name was Kilij Arslan, and he was brother to the Sultan, a man who had fought hard and well in the great Seljuk battles of the past. It was rumoured that he had actually been dead for three days after the battle at Van, before God had come to him and told him to stand, for it was not his time to die. Ever since he had fought like a madman, fearlessly leading his men by example.

But this situation called for tact instead of bravado, and that was why Arslan's cousin Tutush was there. The thin man, still taller than most, had a bright look in his eyes at all times that gave off a feeling to the men that he was looking through them. A tactical genius, his council had led them through many tough situations and would come to help greatly at Antioch.

Each man stood very still, near each other, watching as the formerly Roman lands burned. Finally unable to wait any longer, Arslan turned to his brother and boomed, "Why do we stand, brother, when the men could be preparing for the attack, preparing the slit the throats of our enemies?" Tutush turned slowly with a common gleam in his eye and whispered, "There are more ways to kill your enemy, brother. A man who sees his life's work die before his eyes and truly beholds the greatness of what he faces is already dead. Each man on those walls beholds us standing on the ruins of his life, and knows that there will be no escape. In that we have already won a great victory."

Arslan bent low to swiftly grasp a handful of the sand beneath his feet, rising a smiling broadly, "Indeed, you are a crafty man, I would fear to be your enemy." Tutush remained very silent, as if in deeper thought than ever, then turned again to face the city walls. "Tomorrow our attack begins. I have consulted with Malik Shah and he approves of our course of action.

The Umar Army under the command of Ali Mualiyah is being sent south to take the cities of Laodicea and Apamea with 15,000 men. This will aid the linking up between our forces and the Mamelukes and Tunisians whenever they arrive. The Sultan's son himself is order to take the Uthman Army, 20,000 strong, and seize Anazarbus and Tyaria, the gates to Tarsus. Holding these cities will protect our siege of Antioch from any attempt to relieve the defenders. It will also leave us in position for our next target." Arslan nodded before spitting into the dust. "Mualiyah, that Persian, why does he earn this honor, he is a fool." "The Sultan believes his tactics are excellent, even if his heart isn't. Besides, he is given an easy task anyways. All the nearby cities will fall. Antioch is the problem."

Pointing to the eastern point of the walls, Tutush continued, "See how the walls are built into a triangular shape, radiating out from the center? Roman work there, and good at that. They will offer excellent fields of fire from all angles." Grumbling, Arslan kicked up dust, "Then how do we take it?" Responding quickly, Arslan continued, "The main gates are the key. Our men will take heavy losses, but I believe that a a concerted effort to knock down those walls will do the trick. Large catapults and enough time will sufficiently weaken the four gates to the point where battering rams will be enough to do the rest. I told the Sultan of this plan and he agreed. All four gates will be assaulted with 10,000 men each, and ladders will be set all around each gate. The number of men we have and the simultaneous attack should be enough. Give me two months time and the city will be ours, given there is no relief. It is up to you to make sure that doesn't happen." Tutush said finally, pointing to Arslan's chest.

"Now smiling broadly, Arslan grunted, that can be done, as long as I get to lead the charge!" "It is done", Tutush responded, "You will command the camp around the city with 48,000 men, and you will lead the charge." "Excellent," grinned Arslan, waving men into place.

From all around, furious action began. From the east road, a long line of catapults and siege engines were slowly parades into view, each being set up at equal lengths, nearest their particular gate. Large bands of horsemen rode off, positioning themselves around the city to asure there would be no escape. A great city of tents soon grew to enormous size around the besieged city, horrifying the occupants by its size and apparent power. The siege had begun.

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The Bastion of Antioch, The Central Tower
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The gathering was nothing like it could have been. An air of tension hung in the room, obscuring everything that it touched, seemingly overwhelming the inhabitants of the area. The magnificent stone walls cast a pale pallor upon the area, with the lengthening shadows evident in the small arrow slits that protruded from the tower. Few sounds reached inside this last defense, this stronghold, this resort of the fearful.

But none of the men in the room were here to either admire the lighting or the sounds. Smells wafted up from the street, the smells of bread, baked hastily in preperation for a long siege, the smells of horses and hay, the stench of garbage, rotting by the side of the road. One could almost taste the fear that lingered among the populace, for few wanted or even expected an attack, or at least, not so soon.

But the men in the room were not, for once, even thinking about the people of the city. Each man, the five seated men, the two standing guards, clad in their bright plumed armor, and the last man, who stood at one of the arrow slits, his face giving off his displeasure and anger. The five men at the table seemed afraid as well, though more of the other than of the attack. But given who each was, this was not unexpected.

"I give you orders, yes, I tell you what to do, I announce the very things for you to do, but what do you do? You ignore it! Ye', the very man who has fought for our people for decades, has carried the honor of an army and a country!" Romanus "Ferrum Vires" Ducas was flattering himself, but everyone else in the room knew that it was deserved. "Ferrum Vires" was a dangerous fighter who truely deserved his name.

"You were to be my eyes, my scouts. And now..well, at least it isn't as bad as it could. There is an army of seventeen thousand at Adana, near Tarsus and they can reinforce us, unless Tarsus too is under attack. If it is...then so will Sardis, which is surrounded by forts. Let then come there, for there are troops statoned there. And Trebizond, which has an army...Ah, but our concern is Antioch. We are ready. Let them come." Each of the failed scouts nodded. When it came to tatics, "Ferrum Vires" was a master.

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The Walls of Antioch
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A lone man stood at the Western Wall of Antioch, the sun sinking down below him. Lines of red and orange sped down towards the sea as he gfazed at the beautiful sight with eyes watering. He seemed to know that all things faded and that beauty would not last. He sighed, shaking his head in a motion of sadness. Soon, the walls of Antioch would be as red as the ocean.

Footstpes paddled up behind him and he half turned, inclining his head to his relief. The other nodded, as if he had seen the intent of the first. "They say that aid will come through the sea, will it not?" The voice of the second scout was hollow, as if in disbelief of what was occuring, and he seemed to dread the prospect of war, as indeed all did.

"Who knows, friend? Who knows."

Letter to the Byzantine:

"King Roger of Sicily offers you 4,000 men-at-arms, 1,000 knights, 3,000 spearmen, and 7,000 archers to aide in the defence of Antioch. If you answer yes to my offer I can have my force there in five days."

"Ferrum Vires" read the letter laughing.

I wouldn't if I were you, but as I'm surrounded and about to be attacked...I'll say yes.

Quickly the armada the Roger had assembled departed carrying the soldiers he had committed to the defense of Antioch. The armada consisted of 20 galleys, 8 fast galleys, 3 fire galleys, and 2 war galleys. As well the fleet carried another 5,000 fighting men so as to man the ships and provide reinforcements if they were needed.

OOC: Please forgive my small posts, but I do not feel larger ones are really nesscary for me right now, but I will make larger ones one then arrive in the east.

Prince Yuroslav followed by a small force of Yaroslav Boyars paced up to the walls of Constantinople, they shouted over the walls for them to open.

"It is I Prince Yuroslav, come to defend the lands of Orthodox Christianity, more are on the way, please let us in to speak with the Emperor."

The continuous roar of rock and wood against metal filled the heavy air of the Eastern Mediterranean. Flickers of flame and explosions simultaneously lit the night sky brighter than any day. As the balls of fire and rock flew through the air, the obvious gloom deepened. For months the long catapults hauled into place by the Seljuks had turned their screws, pulling counterweights, lifting stone high into the air to slam against the proud walls.

The walls of Antioch had held firm for an eon, showing their masterful crafting, before groaning and trembling before the force. Stones delivered at great effort from the high hills of Lebanon had done their work. The ceaseless day and night pounding of the engines had torn down large chunks of the mortal wall. In some places the wall had completely come down to the expectant sigh of the coming attack, the attack that never transpired. The fallen regions had been repaired, as best possible by the fine Roman engineers, but woefully not up to par.

As the days passed, the camps of the Turkish horsemen edged ever closer to the city. Zigzag trenches were slowly built to protect the men as they moved siege engines closer to the city. The attackers had formed a double line around the city, infantry in the front with cavalry in large grouping behind. Turkish commanders continued to prep their troops for the attack, to come within the month.

In the dark, the doom which would befall the city crept nearer. Without aid soon, the city was lost. Antioch shuddered as the Turks pounded harder every day.

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The Umar Army has captured the cities of Laodicea and Apamea without resistance and garissoned them with 9,000 men. The city of Hierapolis in the north has fallen, but Seljuk forces in the Uthman Army have been unable to take Anazarbus due to significant Byzantine forces in the area. Tyaria will be enveloped as soon as Anazarbus can be bypassed. Reinforcements of 6,000 men are being sent to help against the Byzantine force.

ooc: In how many days will the Tunisian and my army arive to Armenia? I have plans from there on.

why are you going to Armenia?

and I'd guess only a day or two real life more

All was dark as silence ruled the battlefield. The long months producing the sounds of fire, wood, and stone had ended abruptly and everything was eerily still in the warm morning air that still kept most landmarks in shadow. Slowly then a sound came into the clear, the soft trudging of thousands of feet overlayed by the clomping of thousands more hooves. Behind all that began the steady roar of wood creaking against metal.

Emerging from the disappearing mist stood Sultan Malik Shah, silhouted by the dark on the hill east of Antioch. Silence reigned again as the Sultan raised his hand high, pausing for what seemed to last for an eternity. Finally, the hand dropped, pointing to the city as it fell. The roar began again as innumerable pieces of the game began to move, again.

From atop the hill, the catapults fell silent, watching their work, approving of the damage they had done so efficiently to the walls. Behind them loomed the high towers of mobile ramps, great siege engines designed to retard fire as well as offer archer firing positions as the men inside waited for that great ramp to drop, to rush into the city.

From all around, a great yell was unleashed such as had never before been seen in the province of Antioch. Line after line of infantry began to march over the ridge of the low hills, but not just to the east, but all around. Behind the men came others, high on horseback, showing their power in their grim looks.

The towers slowly moved towards four points on the city's defenses, conspicuous for their disrepair. The catapults had done their deed, severely damaging each great gate in Antioch. The army rumbled into battle.

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Arrows flew in all directions, oil tumbled from the walls, rocks fled their master's instruments everywhere. The long lines of men surrounding the city had moved close, the cavalry now in front of even them. The siege rams were crashing against the walls, pouring more and more men into the city walls, trying to gain a foothold, pulling men off the gates.

The giant rams had pulled up to the crumbling gates last of all, slamming their metal-tipped projectiles into the stone, causing it to fall inward at all four gates. Horns blew loud in the valley's and all held still for just one more second and then the wave began.

The mighty cavalry forces began to the city, their steeds sprinting towards the breach. Behind them the infantry slowly began to movem intent on assuring the cavalry's victory. As had occured a hundred times, little could forceably stop the great wave of men, more than 45,000 from seizing the city for good. The horsemen thundered into the city.