The Crusade

Chapter 1

      It was dark. A lone figure, whose shadow was amplified by the ruddy torch light, walked with soft steps. His eyes ever wary for surprises as he walked through the narrow street. He had coarse black stubble and dusty black hair which ended at his ears as well as the haunted eyes of a veteran. Disguised by the dense fog, the man walked into a recently searched house and bolted the door shut. He pushed the small amount of surviving furniture in front of the door. He looked around and saw many scuff marks from the soldier's boots on the ground as well as blood splattered here and there from a result of a struggle. He sighed and sat with his back to a wall. The lonely man opened his saddle bag to pull out a carefully folded piece of paper. He opened it and started reading.
       "To Ashoth, both my guardian and my betrothed" it began."I hope this letter finds you in good health, for I am growing weary of this life. It has been nearly two decades since I last saw you and all I have to remember you by are the seldom received letters that you write. Boys who I helped delivered have now grown up and have been sent away on that God forsaken Crusade. It has gone on so long that I cannot remember the reason behind it. The Council of Prelates have all grown old and senile and the doddering old fool, who once held the the position of Primate will finally receive divine judgment. God knows it was long overdue, the old man was well past his prime when he started this dammed Crusade. The Church still has absolute power over everyone here in Arciria, but they do not use it. The officials have no idea what to do and whenever they ask the Church for guidance they reply with 'believe in God' and other assorted nonsense. I pray that they will one day see the light and call off this abdominal Crusade. I miss you, but know that I always love you,
From your beloved Arable."
      Ashoth's eyes, once again filled with tears as he re-read the letter. Some tears escaped and dripped onto the paper and Ashoth carefully folded it before his sorrow washed off the very last words of his beloved. His wallowing in self pity was suddenly stopped as the sound of someone moving in the room behind him shook his mind awake. He swore at himself for carelessly not securing the house before he settled down. He stood up and grabbed his short swords from his side and back. He dual wielded them both like a professional and started a slow walk to the doorway on his right. When Ashoth had reached the doorway he quickly charged in the room beyond, ready for anyone, or anything in there. He froze dead in his tracks and the mans face grew pale as he saw a little girl, no more than six years old, standing right in front of him. Ashoth knew instantly that something was wrong. He asked himself why would a girl be here alone when the house had recently been thoroughly searched for anyone to bring divine justice upon, that was when it hit him. The illusion faded away and what was really there was now brutally intruding itself upon Ashoth's mind. The girl was still there alright, but she was grotesquely dismembered and defiled. There was evidence of rape and other obscenities too horrible to think of. Ashoth almost vomited  at the site of this atrocious act, but it was not only the sight that defiled this place, but the smell of it. The smell of rotten blood and rusty steel was apparent and it would test all stern faced men who happened across it. Ashoth wrenched his eyes away from that sight, lest he go mad. He looked around and noticed that it was quite a small room, red always seems to make a room look smaller than it actually is and the walls of this room were covered with blood. It looked as if it had been a bedroom of a young girl once upon a time before this all started. As Ashoth looked around he noticed it wasn't dark as it was in the previous room, he then looked at the centre of the room, carefully avoiding to look at the brutal scene. He noticed that there were lit candles made of red wax surrounding the body, or what was left of it. Ashoth surmised that this was one of those things that filled the Crusaders with religious ecstasy which had continued the Crusade for the past two decades. He knew that this was all staged, he had in fact visited this city when he was an adolescent. It always seemed so happy, the people in the usually crooked and narrow streets always laughed and sang. The walls always were just a canvas for the local inhabitants to paint and hang fine silk wares on.
      But that was all gone now. The brightly coloured paintings were replaced with blood smears and the silk was substituted for bones which hung and served as a warning to any who might still hear it. Ashoth could no longer stand the stench and he returned to the previous one.

      Ashoth sighed, he knew the truth, he knew why all this has happened, but how would he convince the religious fanatics out there? Then, the sound that had been instilled in Ashoth's earliest memories called out to him. The steel jingling of chain mail was in the street outside the house. He held his breath hoping that they would not find him and deliver 'divine damnation' upon him for deserting their unjust cause. The sound stopped, he was safe, or so he thought. The yells came first before the banging as they try to open the door, then after that the little battering ram was brought out to destroy any chance Ashoth had at escape. He looked around and hoped to find someway to get out. He searched every room in the house, apart from the room he had previously explored. He was just about to give up hope of any escape as he checked the last room. He looked in and saw it, a balcony that was the perfect distance away from another building that someone with a little bit of athletic skill could easily jump. The screams of triumph from downstairs and the big bang that happened signalised that it was time for an escape. He ran through what seemed to be a rude bedroom and jumped onto the building in front of him. The building had a flat roof made of concrete so it was easy to get on safely. He could still hear the jingles of the men searching for deserters, he slipped down under a rather crude excuse for a chair. As the house was searched the cries of chagrin echoed through the empty streets. Ashoth wondered why the men were so distraught that they had not found him. Usually they just search house to house and if they didn't find anything they just moved on with no more than a remark about the weather. He knew about that since he was one of them once, this one predicament made him question his actions during this whole dammed Crusade. Something was definitely suspicious about these men though. He waited about ten minutes before getting up and moving on from the roof of the stone building he was on top of. He clambered down the building and moved to the south. To the south was his freedom, to the south was the closest gate to him, to the south was the only way to escape this nightmare.