Faith and Works (A 1st Crusade Story)

[MarkWarrior]

I pulled my sword back, wincing as more Seljuk blood spilled over my chainmail and cloak. The rattling gasps of my foe loud among the din of battle for a brief moment before I turned to engage yet another.

Raising my shield, I parried one strike from a scimitar, then another before driving my foot into the lightly armored Muslim, the sand barely shifting under my weight as I forced my shoulder and shield into his gut, his sandaled feet were less secure and he collapsed on the ground.

One stab, and I pierced through the padded cloth, driving my blade deep into his chest, blood bubbling out before I withdrew it and looked around for more enemies, only to find that I was surrounded.

I should have been terrified, the Seljuks had done much to harm those close to me over these many years. Burning, raping, looting and pillaging their way across the Holy Land. Men were put to the sword, and the women and children enslaved or worse. But I held firm, my Faith carried me this day, just as it had across many battles from Antioch to Nicaea, to now. I could not falter, not while there still remained hope.

The white cross on my shield was now stained red with the blood of those who would threaten the innocent, and my tan cloak and cloth now brown with the dried blood of Seljuks who had fallen before me.

"Are you afraid?" I called out in their language, learned over the years from both foe and friend alike. "I am but one man!" I bashed the flat of my blade against my shield and roared. "Will you fight? Or will you act as the cowards I have found you to be?"

I spat into the sand, my mouth feeling dryer than the desert around me.

"You speak much for one who is about to die," A lone man dismounted from his horse, his chainmail, purple turban, and gilded pommel on his sword showing that he was the one in charge of this rabble. "I will not grant you the mercy of a quick death. You will be hamstrung, disemboweled, and left for the carrion."

"I cannot say the same," I replied, swinging my sword out to my side. "We will all likely die here, our sins washed away by the sands and the Blood of the Lamb. With all that remains of us lost to time itself until the Resurrection."

"Enough words," The man growled. "Hero of Antioch, the time has come for vengeance."

"So be it," I balanced carefully, watching the other man's body language. The eyes could lie, but the body would not.

I absorbed the first hit on my shield, springing forward as he pulled his scimitar back, his round buckler barely flicking out to deflect my blade. His next hit drove through the weakened band of iron around my shield and bit deep within, capturing his blade and forcing him to release it, lest he also lose his hand.

Sucking in air, I stabbed my sword into the sand and waited for one of the other Muslims to give my opponent a sword.

"This is a good blade," I admired the pattern of the Damascus-forged steel scimitar I'd pulled out of my shield. "I may have to keep it," I taunted, withdrawing my sword from the sands and leaving the blade in the sands behind me.

"You will keep nothing," He leapt forward, his strikes moving faster under the anger. I blocked the first with my shield, the second with my sword, diverting it into the sands before giving a quick stab into his chainmail, the tip of my blade driving through into his stomach before he twisted, my blade sliding out and darting back to my defense as he threw his buckler at me.

I opened my eyes to see the nobleman standing over me, his face twisted into a savage grin as he brought his sword around in a swing at me. Kicking at his legs, I pushed through the pain in my skull and pulled my dagger from its sheath before driving it into his throat, stabbing multiple times before lurching up onto my knees.

My vision swam as I picked up my sword and shield from where they'd fallen, blood falling into my eyes from where the thrown buckler had torn open something on my forehead.

"Who is next?" I called out, staring into the circle of Seljuks, waiting for their response.

There was silence, then a sharp whistle, the men and their horses riding away, and leaving me standing in the desert sands, surrounded by blood and the bodies of dead and broken men. Christian and Muslim alike.

---

"Michael," my sister shook me out of my stupor. "C'mon, the sheep aren't going anywhere."

"They might," I argued. "I'm responsible for them, just like I'm responsible for you," I grabbed my little sister pulled her close, messing up her hair before letting her go.

"Mean," Adelaide pouted, crossing her arms. "We could spend the day at the watering hole."

"No," I shook my head. "The last thing we need is for one of the sheep to get stuck, you know how stupid they are."

"Just for a few minutes," She whined. "It's so hot today."

"Fine," I sighed, glancing at the sheep grazing over the little grass that was visible in the dry land. "We'll spend some time at the watering hole."

I looked out over the horizon towards the direction I knew the city to be. Jerusalem was dangerous, and mother and father both knew that the Muslims would attempt to harm them if they dared show their faith openly.

Shaking my head, I cleared it of the negative thoughts and emotions, instead looking for the light tan dress of my sister. Smiling as I saw her reach the small stream that the sheep often drank from.

"Michael, the water feels so good!" She splashed about, frolicking in the water as I watched over her and the sheep alike.

"Beware of snakes!" I teased. "They love sunning on the rocks by the stream." (They actually preferred the area in the middle of the fields, but she didn't know that yet.)

"Snakes," Adelaide shuddered and looked around fearfully before realizing that I was smirking. "Jerk."

"Maybe if you paid attention to what dad and I try to teach you about being out in the fields, you'd know where the snakes like to lay about," I stopped as water dripped from my hair to my shoulders from the wave Adelaide had just sent my way. "You just got my sling wet," I glared at my little sister. "Now I can't use that one until it dries out."

"Well, maybe if you weren't so mean to me," she stuck her tongue out.

I grunted and set the sling I'd tied around my head down on a rock to dry, moving the one around my waist to my head in its place.

"I'm keeping an eye on the sheep," I leaned back and blocked the sun with my hands. "Let me know when you're done and we'll pen them up and go back inside, I'm hungry."

"Alright!" She replied, continuing to splash while I began counting the sheep.

Our family's flock wasn't the largest, but it was more than enough to clothe, feed us, and ensure that we were taken care of every winter. Thirty-one, thirty-two, wait… There were supposed to be thirty-five sheep in our land.

"Adelaide," I stood up on a stone and looked around. "Take my sling and watch the sheep, three have gone missing."

Gone was the carefree laugh and cheer she usually had as she climbed out of the stream, wringing water out of her dress and girding it up as she grabbed the sling off the rock beside me.
"Don't stay out too long," She looked me in the eye, her nine-year-old frame shaking a bit. "You know what mother and father say."

"You're more important than a lost lamb," I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I know. If I can't find them before the sun starts to set, I'll meet you back at the house."

"You promise?" She asked, her lip quivering.

"I promise," I pulled my little sister in and fluffed her hair again as I chuckled. Three years felt like decades of separation at times.

Leaving behind my large sack with the majority of the supplies, I took a few stones and my water skin. If I needed more than my walking stick, water, and my sling and stones, then I was in over my head. I was no David, after all. And stones might beat bronze, but they had nothing on steel.

Pulling my sandals tighter on my feet, I headed in the direction I thought the three lost sheep might be in, my strides long but my pace unhurried. I would find them, or I wouldn't, and there would be nothing I could do about it.

Kneeling in the dirt to examine a few tracks, I murmured a quick prayer to my Saviour, hoping that he would intercede before the Lord on his Throne on my behalf. After all, Father Peter said that 'we have not because we ask not.' So, if Christ cared for even the little things, how much more did he care for our souls.

Holding my hand up to the sun, I checked the distance between it and the horizon. It was nearly midday, if I didn't hurry, I'd be late and would be breaking my promise to Adelaide, and I always kept my promises.

–
–

One of the things that the city folk didn't understand was just how utterly stupid sheep were. I grunted as I hefted the lamb with the scratched paw over my shoulders, one hand keeping it stable while the other drove the other two idiots back towards home.

In fact, the more we attended mass, the more I understood why Christ referred to himself as the shepherd and we as the sheep. After all, I knew that I was not always smart, nor did I always follow the right path. I probably was among those who Christ had to be extra careful to look after.

Thankfully, as the sun began to reach the horizon, I saw the smoke arise from our house. Adelaide had probably started to cook dinner in the hopes that mother, father, and I would be home soon.

Mother and Father had taken the donkeys and gone to purchase seeds for planting given our last crop had been small, along with grain and some tools that had worn out. They were a day overdue for return, and it was mine and Adelaide's hope that they would be back today.

But as I got closer, my heart began to sink, and I began to move faster, driving the sheep ahead of me as the smoke turned into a fire, and from there into the remains of home. Dropping the lamb to the ground, I ignored its cry and sprinted towards home, a prayer on my lips as I reached the smoking remains.

"Adelaide!" I screamed, dipping my cloak in the bucket of water kept near the door before throwing it over my shoulders and running into the dim orange blaze. Where was she? I pulled my cloak up and covered my mouth and nose. Reaching the oven, I found her. Her small form was still, and I dragged her out of what had once been our house before running back in.

The heat from the flames dried out my cloak and any tears that tried to wet my eyes immediately vanished. I sniffled and found the body of my father. Turning him over, I found an arrow shaft in his chest that I left in there as I drug him out of the building.

Going back in, I looked for the last member of my family. I wanted to find my mother, but as I saw her body, the remaining wooden beams that held up the roof collapsed in, crushing her and scattering embers across the floor.

Weeping, I crawled out and collapsed next to Adelaide. The tears were finally free from the oppressive fire and were streaming from my eyes as I checked for signs of life from my father and little sister.

But there was no life in my father, only dried blood and a look of sorrow on his face. Adelaide, she was warm to the touch, but I could not feel her breath, nor the beats of her heart. Crouching over her, I cried out, begging for mercy from the Lord Above. Knowing that he heard my cries.

Then, as my tears began to dry up, and I began to lose hope, there was a whisper, as if something had come from the wind, and Adelaide exhaled, coughing and hacking but breathing nonetheless.

In spite of my joy, I wept. Crying and pulling her into my lap as I lay there next to our father. Slowly closing my eyes until I was asleep, the warm body in my arms a comforting truth that we were not alone.