Michael the Merciless

Michael the Merciless

The fallen had become the flowers of Antioch. They lay scattered like wildflowers on the putrid planes. There’s no need for bees or butterflies in the garden of the dead, flies are suffice. A sad end for men who had followed to Cross to the bitter end.

However, I’m no knight of the Cross. I’m not even religious. I was born poor and had to learn to make my own luck. I’m an opportunist. Made a small fortune by climbing on a merchant’s daughter, knocking her up and gaining a foothold in the family firm. The father in law also has royal connections and when the prince joined the crusade I saw it as an opportunity for more riches.

And to cleanse my soul in the process.

Through the in-law’s connections I got into the prince’s extended entourage as cook, syphoning off what little bits I could. The odd groat here, a piece of silver there. Not to mention a whole host of women, most of whom were unwilling - but that’s just war. Prince Bohemond is a winner. I was quick to understand that. We went from success to success. My travel chest became ladened with loot.

But, Dorylaeum changed all that. Dorylaeum made me a man.

When we set out in 1096, I was merely a kitchen boy but had since learned the way of the sword. At Dorylaeum we faced the Turkish hoard. That was bad enough, but we had also been abandoned by the Latins.

Vastly out numbered, all looked lost.

We thought hard. But Franks fell in their droves and soon holes began to appear in our ranks. Several times the Turks broke through.

I was to pick up a sword from from a fallen brother and defended the caravans from the marauders. My father had taught me the way of the sword, it felt natural to me. I soon found I was a better killer than a cook. Slaughtering men was more satisfying than butchering pigs.

In the maelstrom I found myself at Bohemond’s side. The pauper and the prince shoulder to shoulder. We fought together, like brothers and defended each other’s flank. Preachers recited their prayers amongst us - reaffirming our faith. We battled from sunrise to sunset until we were ankle deep in blood.

We stood our ground, baptizing the earth with our own blood… but we survived.

Just.

In the aftermath, Bohemond crowned me Michael the Merciless, and promoted to his personal bodyguard. Covered in blood and shit, I could barely stand, and nearly collapsed as I took to one knee before him.

I felt broken. But I was made.

It was an understatement to say it had been a momentous day.

There was no time to rest. The next day we marched on to Antioch. And lay siege to the great city.

~