AD 952

Giacomo the Chivalrous sat at the table in his tent. Six months earlier they had intercepted another Aghlabid scouting force. "Guard the bridge," they said. He commanded a small force of 26 men. All mounted soldiers of the highest birth, with the finest armor they were. They fought under the banner of the Regnum Italicum. They were posted out on a bridge in the middle the wilderness, between al-Jaza'ir and Wahran. They were to defend the bridge and prevent any Saracens from crossing into the newly conquered African territories. A massive, full-scale invasion had occurred years ago. Every city from Wahran to Tanja, to Arguin on the coast and Timbuktu in the desert had been conquered. A Jihad was called on Tanja, but the city was successfully defended and the attackers crushed. Rex Berengario the Malevolent had set his eyes upon the city of al-Jaza'ir as it was the last city in the way of controlling Tunis, and all Western Africa with it.

Suddenly, he snapped out of his daze to the sound of one of his sword-bearers yelling to him. "My lord! A massive army of over a thousand Saracens is approaching the bridge! They are numerous in spearmen and camels!" To this, no response was uttered-only a small puff as he sunk to his knees on the sand, praying to the Lord God. Later, he stood up and told the sword-bearer to muster the men. He had the option of retreating and saving everyone's lives and returning with a far greater amount of men, but he chose not to. If they were to die, then they would go up in a blaze of glory, charging hundreds of Saracens.

With the banners flying like mad and torrents of rain falling down, the armies were ready. Giacomo knew the only chance they had was to avoid direct combat as much as they could. They needed to draw off individual units and charge them with all their might in order to have a chance. You could see in the men's eyes the same despair that would've taken him, if it were not for his love of his wife and his fervor to defend his country. He shouted a bold speech in the rain, but his words fell upon deaf ears. The muddy sand would make riding on horses difficult, so they stuck to high ground. The Aghlabids started marching across the bridge. Hundreds upon hundreds of spears stuck up in the air. Itqa'dars quickly crossed the bridge and were no more than seventy paces away. "Charge!" he yelled.

The knights rode swiftly down the hill, their lances extended, yelling a ferocious roar. They crashed into the horsemen and slaughtered them. That unit was decimated. There was no time for celebrations, though. Three units of spearmen were approaching and the order to fall back was yelled. Arrows pierced the air and whizzed by the retreating knights. None fell. One of the units went out of the way of the main column and was marching west. They decimated that unit and retreated. This continued for half an hour. During that time, the knights were forced into a dire predicament. Camels had flanked them as they charged into another group of spearmen, and they were surrounded. One avenue of escape was still open, but it was closing quickly. They narrowly escaped through the opening at the expense of several soldiers. The soldiers were becoming tired. The charges were taking fewer casualties. Giacomo ordered the men to cross the bridge and rest on the other side while the enemy followed them. There they rested until another large unit of camels had just finished crossing the bridge. Although they were still tired, they charged the camels, unwilling to lose the upper hand they had. The camels were slaughtered. Giacomo looked out upon the bridge. About three-hundred of the Aghlabid spearmen remained, and out of the original twenty-six of their own men, only sixteen were still standing. The Saracens had just crossed the bridge. One last desperate charge was called for and the men were hurtling toward their targets in a last-ditch attempt to scatter them.

It worked. Two units of spearmen were routed and captured. The last unit remained. This unit, however was different than all the others. it was commanded by Captain Ayyubid of the Aghlabids and consisted of his own group of dismounted Saracen Faris. Only fourteen men remained. Each of the men were covered in blood-both of Saracen and their own. This was it. Either they would break them or be broken, Giacomo knew. The horses thundered across the distance and emitted a yell that seemed as it could've been heard in the homeland. The two sides clashed with each other. Men fell left and right. Then, a cry went out. Nobody knew if it were Aghlabid or Italian, but it said that the Saracen captain Ayyubid had fallen. The Saracens were disarray. The men were mopped up and Giacomo looked out upon the valley. He saw hundreds of Saracen corpses, and with great sadness- the corpses of some of his own men.

He whispered, "It is done." The knights had defeated a force more than fifty times larger than their own. This night would go down in history as one of Italy's greatest. All men would receive greatest honor and prestige. The greatest mourning and sadness would be shown for the fallen. A heroic victory had been won.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed it! I know I haven't been very active here in the forums, so I loaded my game and continued where I left off. I fought this battle and decided to make an AAR of sorts to announce my return to the TWH community. (PS-Please don't move this too the AAR forum, I like it here )

[This message has been edited by Glacier_Girl (edited 11-27-2009 @ 03:57 PM).]