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Anno Domini 828,June-3
With my forces, I began attacking and destroying every watchtower in the area, burning them so they could not be easily repaired or reused. As soon as we finished with one, we moved on to strike smaller settlements, while my forces spread throughout the hot region.
We looted many of the local settlements, but with care, avoiding whenever possible the homes of Christians, whether Greek, Aramaean, or Syriac, since in truth we all shared a common enemy, the Sarakenoi. Little by little, a small but stable information network began to form within the nearby cities. Informants would come and leave information in the hands of members of their own groups, who would then deliver it to me. They were usually merchants, people who knew well the tricks of entering and leaving cities, even under the restrictive security measures that had already been put in place.
The Sarakenoi had significantly increased their security measures and alerted the garrisons to any new movements we might make. Even so, most of my time was spent burning the coastline, destroying Muslim buildings, and capturing Sarakenoi to transport them to Crete and sell them in large numbers. Within a few days, we had captured several thousand. There were many coastal settlements that were barely defended; only a few had fortifications. The rest were easy targets that we took quickly.
Even so, we began to notice that some Abbasid cavalry groups were watching us from a distance whenever we remained too long in one area. However, there had been no organized local response.
With my forces, we approached the walls of Antarados. As we advanced, we watched the population living outside the walls enter the city en masse. The gates remained open to allow people and as many supplies as possible to pass through, clearly preparing for a possible siege.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of people entered the city before our eyes. Then the gates were closed. I smiled as I watched a well executed plan unfold.
With security reinforced, it was very difficult to arm the small groups operating inside the walls and the local garrisons. The Abbasid Empire, being so large and multicultural, could not oppress everyone equally. The only truly unifying element they possessed was religion. Even so, their own faith allowed people to worship in exchange for additional taxes. The jizya, according to Muslim law and the Quran, was a tax imposed on adults of other religions as the price for protection and freedom of worship, and this became a dangerous weapon against them.
I knew that a large part of the city's current garrison was made up of Christians, or of false converts to Islam who had adopted that faith solely to avoid the jizya.
Under normal circumstances, smuggling was nearly impossible. It could only be achieved by creating a distraction large enough to make everyone forget their duties, such as appearing with an army and making them believe a siege was being prepared.
The guards checked nothing. Among some carts that I prepared to enter the city were loads of captured Sarakenoi swords, some basic looted armor, several of my trusted men to organize the Christians, and several crosses. These were to be displayed once the gates were opened. That would be the symbol my men would recognize in order to avoid an unnecessary massacre.
I remained outside the city as we prepared a siege. With eight thousand men we could encircle it, but not storm it, so we limited ourselves to establishing military camps at the main entrances. Our fleet blockaded the harbor, closing off any possibility of escape or of information leaving the city.
Meanwhile, we remained alert. I did not believe it would be necessary for them to send requests for aid; they had to know very well that an imperial army was operating in the area. Even so, we had to demonstrate that we were willing to sustain a prolonged siege.
"Do you think your plan will work?" Sigurd asked as we watched the city walls, already shrouded in the darkness of night.
"It might, or it might not. Either way, it is the best way to distract the Sarakenoi. They will have to request reinforcements or gather local garrisons to try to drive us out," I replied calmly as I ate a few nuts.
"And what do we do if the plan fails?" Sigurd asked after a few seconds of silence, without taking his eyes off the walls.
"We will try it in every city where I sent collaborators. It is not guaranteed that people will betray others solely for religion. What I am offering them is an alternative way to pay their taxes. That gives them reasons to change sides," I replied in an even tone.
While Sigurd noisily chewed pieces of dried meat, we both watched the walls. Then we saw a torch at the gate closest to the sea. It swayed from side to side, stopped, and then repeated the motion.
"It worked. We have the gate," Sigurd said, jumping to his feet.
"Easy. There is no need to rush. It could be a trap. They may have been discovered and are using this to inflict heavy losses on us. We must act with caution," I said without taking my eyes off the torch.
"Then what do we do?" he asked.
"We will send a group that, within our forces, is the most expendable. No one truly is, but we do not have anyone we can sacrifice without hesitation, unlike in Crete where we had thousands of prisoners. Call one of the jarls. They will be the first to cross the walls," I said as I stood up and began preparing to enter the city.
"I understand," Sigurd replied, walking toward one of the tents raised by the Varangians who followed their jarl.
We had to take the risk. Capturing one of these fortified ports was crucial to disorganizing the Abbasids. If we succeeded, they would have to retake it at any cost. And if we managed to force a naval engagement during the siege, while cutting off their maritime supplies, we could transform this entire campaign in the Levant. It would cease to be a mere nuisance and become a real threat, one that would demand the dispatch of a full army.
Hundreds of Varangian warriors followed their jarl, mounted on horseback. When we acted, we would have to seize control swiftly. While they advanced, I prepared my troops to follow the charge in case the defection was real and the city truly opened itself from within.
We remained hidden behind the camp palisade as we watched the Varangian riders gallop toward the gate. During those moments no alarm was raised, until the Varangians were practically upon it. The gate opened and allowed them to enter without resistance.
I kept our troops on hold until the confirmation signal with the torch was given.
"The gate is ours. Remember, kill only the Sarakenoi," I shouted before giving the order to charge.
Several thousand of our men began advancing toward the wall, while other units maintained the encirclement to prevent any escape. It was essential that no one realized we had entered with collaborators. As long as the cause remained hidden, the same method could be repeated in other nearby settlements.
The thunder of metal echoed across the field as thousands of men ran toward the gate. Even before crossing the threshold, the sounds of brutal combat could be heard, the guttural shouts of the Varangians clashing inside the city.
As I passed through the entrance, I saw part of the garrison fighting against other defenders. Some wore improvised crosses, strips of cloth tied over their armor, the sign we had agreed upon to distinguish them from the Sarakenoi.
The first thing I saw was a Varangian jarl smashing a defender's skull. He struck the man's helmet with a pole hammer and drove his head down into his torso. The body fell lifeless instantly.
I advanced under the protection of my men as the fighting grew chaotic. More and more guards bearing Christian symbols appeared, attacking the Sarakenoi. Even civilians without armor, armed only with swords, began cutting off their retreat.
They were soon surrounded. Many Sarakenoi threw down their weapons and began begging for mercy in Arabic.
As I was about to accept their surrender, the civilians, without giving them time, began killing them in a frenzy. They slaughtered defenseless guards without any restraint.
"Enough, you pack of misfits," I shouted in Greek.
They ignored me.
"I will not repeat myself. Stop immediately," I shouted again, this time in fury.
It did no good. The civilians continued, and the Sarakenoi defenders, seeing themselves under attack, recovered their weapons and resumed fighting.
"Damn it, keep them occupied. Then capture those idiots for me," I ordered my men as they rejoined the fight against the garrison.
I continued moving through the city, witnessing the massacre. The screams of pain, the pleas. The worst part of understanding Arabic was comprehending every word spoken by the dying men. No matter how much I shouted and tried to impose order among the collaborators, they ignored me and kept fighting.
I was losing valuable prisoners due to the indiscipline of these people. As soon as the fighting in an area ended, I ordered that the civilians responsible be arrested.
We moved through the streets. Most of my men entered houses that bore no cross markings and dragged their inhabitants out by force amid desperate screams. No one came to their aid.
When I reached the inner fortress, I encountered an unexpected surprise. The turncloaks had managed to take the gate. They spared us the tedious problem of an internal siege. Breaking the keep's door would be enough to gain full control of the city.
When we brought up the battering rams and the final fighting began, I once again witnessed atrocious acts against the civilian population. In some areas, the turncloaks and civilians themselves began rapes and cold blooded killings. My men had to intervene to restrain the brutality against the Sarakenoi.
The screams lasted for hours, until my men finally secured the city's governor and his family. They were thrown into the fortress dungeons as the official looting began.
I left the city and ordered the forces outside to take control of the walls. The gates were opened and the camp was dismantled and moved inside. Then we brought the ships into the harbor and began loading the loot.
The plunder was scarce. For some reason, the population had descended into murderous fury. Most of the Sarakenoi had been executed. It was a terrible outcome. They could have been sold for a good price in the slave markets or sent to work against their own masters.
Instead, we had corpses. Wasted resources. Where there could have been a slave extracting iron, there was now only a useless body.
I was furious at the result of this operation. We had taken the city with barely any losses, but the loot was poor. Worse still, the problem of working with collaborator networks had become clear. Their interests were stronger than any loyalty to the Empire.
I would have to impose harsh discipline. I knew it would affect future collaborations, but I could not allow this to happen again. Letting it pass would turn me into a butcher in the eyes of all.
When night fell, I ordered all those captured who were responsible for these acts to be gathered. The rules had been clear. And by dawn, the streets would likely have new ornaments hanging from the gallows.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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