Darth Bandon
New Member
This is just a section of a story I am writing at the moment.
I would love it someone could read it and tell me if this is at all any good. Please ignore things like ? as these are placeholders for names i will enter later.
I'm new to this forum and writing in general so be kind
At night the companions would light a small fire and sit around it, praying as monks but then drinking like dukes, the nobility which many had at home, was gone here in the desert. They would drink and swear and laugh like people would in the taverns of Europe, but when meeting dignitaries or clergy they would have the respectability of a baron or duke.
The road to Jerusalem was a long and difficult one that took many weeks; it was also not without its hazards. The heat was becoming a burden for many of the knights especially ? who had not being in the desert as long as this. One morning about 3 days ride from the Holy City, the knights were attacked by a band of Arab mercenaries. The knights were caught off guard, and ? had being trailing behind due to his problems adapting to the heat. Mercenaries were employed by many rich and powerful Arabs and Christians who had amounted a great deal of gold during the wars of the Crusades, and used this money to rule small sections along the Holy Land. In most cases the leaders would only fight among themselves for more money or power, but other times, when mercenaries were badly paid or unpaid they would go attacking pilgrims or small groups to rob them. The mercenaries closed in quickly on ?, who had just noticed them and made a desperate attempt to regroup with the rest of the knights. Francois saw this and ordered the knight to charge the mercenaries. The leader of the mercenaries picked out Francois and the two fought on horse back, while the rest fought each other. Francois drew his sword and clashed with the leader, who was an Arab dressed in white robes. The two fought for a number of minutes, but the fight ended with Francois slashing the leader across the chest with his sword, knocking him off his horse in the process.
Francois did not wait to see if the leader was dead or not, and raced towards, ? who was now on the ground attempting to fight off, one of the mercenaries on horseback. Francois galloped towards his companion but heard a shrill cry as ? was struck across the face by a scimitar. Francois caught the mercenary off guard and drove his sword into the man’s back. The leader of the knights then jumped down from his horse and ran towards the boy, who was lying face up in the sand. Francois vainly attempted to comfort with the young knight but it was to no avail. The rest of the knights at this stage had won their victories, and regrouped close beside their fallen friend. They all, with the exception of Francois bowed their heads, and ? spoke a prayer for the group. The knights decided to bury their friend here. The eldest knight remained silent for some time after, only breaking this to speak of direction and where to stop for water, and supplies.
Chapter 4: The Holy City
Jerusalem, the Holy City, was finally within sight. The journey here had been a long and costly one, the other knights would comment about how strangely Francois had been since the death of ?, due to him having being around death all his life. All of the knights did seem to be in high spirits when they arrived in the great city. It was a hustle and bustle of activity, with sellers and buyers, beggars, thieves, lepers and such, also Christian, Muslim and Jew all praying together in the same city. There were many monasteries in the Holy City but Francois and his band of knights were distended for the great (Church or Monastery) in the centre of the city. This building was surrounded by troops with hundreds of other knights, entering and exiting all the time. The (Church) looked more like a soldier’s barracks, then a place of worship in this wild land. Francois met with a guard at the main entrance. He asked to speak with the prefect of the city, and showed the Papal seal. The guard went away without regard and returned after some time, with another man. This other man, was middle-aged and dressed in expensive clothes, he did not look like a monk or knight, but he told Francois to come with him, to meet with the Prefect. ‘Your servants aren’t allowed in to the inner city, they have to wait here’ he said in an authoritarian way. Francois advised his companions to go to St. Mark’s monastery which was close by, and to wait there.
The man, who was not armed, lead Francois through the inner city. This was a sector for Christians only, but only for those who had strict business in regard to the Crusade or with the prefect. Along the winding streets the man left his visitor, and all the while, Francois was met with cold glances from other knights or soldiers who were standing around in a restless state. “What news is there of the battles in the East”, Francois finally asked, to break the silence. “Do we look like an army who celebrate with victory” replied sharply the man. This was enough to explain the demeanour of the soldiers.
The man finally lead Francois inside a small door in the side of a great wall. Both then entered a large room, with tapestries handing on the walls, the room was lined with carpet on the floor, and a large table which would seat about 50 people ran down the centre of the room. The room was cool, even though there was great heat outside in the streets. “Wait here” the man said “the prefect will be with you in a moment”. At this moment the man left through a different door at the other end of the room. Francois marvelled at the items made of gold all around the room. He would have been forgiven if he had expected to see the Pope himself walk in to the room. As who ever the prefect was, he had done well during this time here in the Holy Land, thought Francois.
Francois had been waiting only a short while, when in entered a large fat man, and what was obliviously a bishop. The two were whispering to each other as they reached the large table. The bishop beckoned to the table. The fat man sat down at the table, while the Bishop stood behind him. The knight moved slowly towards the table and bowed his head when he reached it.
“You have a message from his Holiness?” Asked the fat man nervously. “Yes my lord” replied Francois. The knight handed over the letter, and the fat man opened it with small grubby hands. Francois keeping his head bowed, stole a glance at the fat man’s face, which seemed to light up when he read the note. The man handed the note to the Bishop who grabbed at it like a dog does when given a bone. “I will be glad to get rid of that thing, nothing but bad luck, if the pope wants it, well he can bloody well have it”, said the fat man in a coarseness which suited his person. The Bishop bowed his head after hearing this. The fat man then stood up and walked away, as he was doing so, the Bishop raised his finger to Francois, “One moment please, my dear knight” he said.
I would love it someone could read it and tell me if this is at all any good. Please ignore things like ? as these are placeholders for names i will enter later.
I'm new to this forum and writing in general so be kind
At night the companions would light a small fire and sit around it, praying as monks but then drinking like dukes, the nobility which many had at home, was gone here in the desert. They would drink and swear and laugh like people would in the taverns of Europe, but when meeting dignitaries or clergy they would have the respectability of a baron or duke.
The road to Jerusalem was a long and difficult one that took many weeks; it was also not without its hazards. The heat was becoming a burden for many of the knights especially ? who had not being in the desert as long as this. One morning about 3 days ride from the Holy City, the knights were attacked by a band of Arab mercenaries. The knights were caught off guard, and ? had being trailing behind due to his problems adapting to the heat. Mercenaries were employed by many rich and powerful Arabs and Christians who had amounted a great deal of gold during the wars of the Crusades, and used this money to rule small sections along the Holy Land. In most cases the leaders would only fight among themselves for more money or power, but other times, when mercenaries were badly paid or unpaid they would go attacking pilgrims or small groups to rob them. The mercenaries closed in quickly on ?, who had just noticed them and made a desperate attempt to regroup with the rest of the knights. Francois saw this and ordered the knight to charge the mercenaries. The leader of the mercenaries picked out Francois and the two fought on horse back, while the rest fought each other. Francois drew his sword and clashed with the leader, who was an Arab dressed in white robes. The two fought for a number of minutes, but the fight ended with Francois slashing the leader across the chest with his sword, knocking him off his horse in the process.
Francois did not wait to see if the leader was dead or not, and raced towards, ? who was now on the ground attempting to fight off, one of the mercenaries on horseback. Francois galloped towards his companion but heard a shrill cry as ? was struck across the face by a scimitar. Francois caught the mercenary off guard and drove his sword into the man’s back. The leader of the knights then jumped down from his horse and ran towards the boy, who was lying face up in the sand. Francois vainly attempted to comfort with the young knight but it was to no avail. The rest of the knights at this stage had won their victories, and regrouped close beside their fallen friend. They all, with the exception of Francois bowed their heads, and ? spoke a prayer for the group. The knights decided to bury their friend here. The eldest knight remained silent for some time after, only breaking this to speak of direction and where to stop for water, and supplies.
Chapter 4: The Holy City
Jerusalem, the Holy City, was finally within sight. The journey here had been a long and costly one, the other knights would comment about how strangely Francois had been since the death of ?, due to him having being around death all his life. All of the knights did seem to be in high spirits when they arrived in the great city. It was a hustle and bustle of activity, with sellers and buyers, beggars, thieves, lepers and such, also Christian, Muslim and Jew all praying together in the same city. There were many monasteries in the Holy City but Francois and his band of knights were distended for the great (Church or Monastery) in the centre of the city. This building was surrounded by troops with hundreds of other knights, entering and exiting all the time. The (Church) looked more like a soldier’s barracks, then a place of worship in this wild land. Francois met with a guard at the main entrance. He asked to speak with the prefect of the city, and showed the Papal seal. The guard went away without regard and returned after some time, with another man. This other man, was middle-aged and dressed in expensive clothes, he did not look like a monk or knight, but he told Francois to come with him, to meet with the Prefect. ‘Your servants aren’t allowed in to the inner city, they have to wait here’ he said in an authoritarian way. Francois advised his companions to go to St. Mark’s monastery which was close by, and to wait there.
The man, who was not armed, lead Francois through the inner city. This was a sector for Christians only, but only for those who had strict business in regard to the Crusade or with the prefect. Along the winding streets the man left his visitor, and all the while, Francois was met with cold glances from other knights or soldiers who were standing around in a restless state. “What news is there of the battles in the East”, Francois finally asked, to break the silence. “Do we look like an army who celebrate with victory” replied sharply the man. This was enough to explain the demeanour of the soldiers.
The man finally lead Francois inside a small door in the side of a great wall. Both then entered a large room, with tapestries handing on the walls, the room was lined with carpet on the floor, and a large table which would seat about 50 people ran down the centre of the room. The room was cool, even though there was great heat outside in the streets. “Wait here” the man said “the prefect will be with you in a moment”. At this moment the man left through a different door at the other end of the room. Francois marvelled at the items made of gold all around the room. He would have been forgiven if he had expected to see the Pope himself walk in to the room. As who ever the prefect was, he had done well during this time here in the Holy Land, thought Francois.
Francois had been waiting only a short while, when in entered a large fat man, and what was obliviously a bishop. The two were whispering to each other as they reached the large table. The bishop beckoned to the table. The fat man sat down at the table, while the Bishop stood behind him. The knight moved slowly towards the table and bowed his head when he reached it.
“You have a message from his Holiness?” Asked the fat man nervously. “Yes my lord” replied Francois. The knight handed over the letter, and the fat man opened it with small grubby hands. Francois keeping his head bowed, stole a glance at the fat man’s face, which seemed to light up when he read the note. The man handed the note to the Bishop who grabbed at it like a dog does when given a bone. “I will be glad to get rid of that thing, nothing but bad luck, if the pope wants it, well he can bloody well have it”, said the fat man in a coarseness which suited his person. The Bishop bowed his head after hearing this. The fat man then stood up and walked away, as he was doing so, the Bishop raised his finger to Francois, “One moment please, my dear knight” he said.
