The Lion Guard: King of Outremer

Chapter 4: Duties of the King

Peasants, freemen, and merchants all fled across the fields and roads near the borders of Transjordan. The arid and mountainous plateaus that made up Outremer's easternmost borders were a mix of tan rock/sand and greenery in the form of masterful farmland made possible by irrigation techniques brought from France over a century earlier.

Near the farmlands lay various villages now set ablaze by dozens of horsemen in the distance, loosing arrows and slashing with curved kilij swords upon any man or aged woman in their path, showing no mercy.

The younger women and children proved no safer, as Sonn horsemen carrying lassos seized them like cattle rustlers, where they'd serve as slaves upon returning.

More Sonn scoured the villages for anything valuable, coin, metal, or trinkets, but most focused on ravaging or seizing human captives. All the while, those still capable of walking or riding made great haste towards the nearest castle, which lay only a mile away atop a plateau.

An eastern orthodox nun with an arrow in the back of her leg limped away, ignoring the pain as she desperately tried to reach the sanctuary.

"You there! Clergywoman! Come, we must go!" A Persian merchant on horseback raced towards her and extended his hand. The nun desperately reached out only to see blood splatter across her face when an arrow plunged into his face.

The woman shrieked and watched as the startled horse fled in panic. The nun collapsed to the ground and looked over at a group of Sonn riders as they approached. The small horsemen wore not metal armor but colored wool jackets and light-helms wrapped in cloth, composite bows in their hands.

The nun felt tears in her eyes and clutched the crucifix around her neck before praying in Aurevitas. Yet as the nearest Sonn took out a lasso to make the woman his property, he convulsed violently and looked down to see an arrow sticking through his throat.

His companions yelped and looked back with the nun at several dozen horsemen approaching. These men were horse-archers, similar to the Sonn. However, they appeared Outremer or Aurevitas in descent and wore crosses around their necks.

"Saint Michael, protect us!" Their leader cried while drawing another arrow and losing it, striking the nearest Sonn through his left eye. The approaching Turcopoles wore padded gambesons and conical nasal helms, save their leader, who wore a mail shirt.

With masterful direction, the lead turcopole directed his horse-archers into three squads who unleashed a barrage of arrows upon the marauding Sonn with deadly accuracy. Each arrow struck at least one Sonn, though many of the raiders managed to raise their shields or endure through their jackets, though not wholly.

While the Sonn outnumbered their turcopole counterparts, they were also scattered and invested in pillage.

"Form up now!" Makucha snarled.

"Makucha!" A powerful voice cried.

Looking over, he saw the lead Turcopole and his furious expression.

"Sir Azaad, that's more like it! On me, men!"

The Sonn Emir rallied his raiders and formed up to face the relief force.

Upon seeing this, Azaad whistled just in time, and all of his men fell back, narrowly avoiding a volley of Sonn arrows. The turcopoles loosed their arrows with much more accuracy, but the Sonn did so with unmatched discipline and order as a group. The invaders pursued the turcopoles, closing the distance and drawing their bows for another volley.

However, as the turcopoles disappeared behind a hilltop, the Emir's eyes widened when he saw another group of horsemen appear, only this time, it wasn't horse-archers.