Round 2: Son of a Mamluk

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Pictures

6: Broody Salah-al- Din

7: Battle scene

9: Barn 

10: Solo Crusader attacking

quotes 3,5,6

Theme chosen was the third crusade: Siege of Acre

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The son of a Mamluk could never be a Mamluk.

Nasir Baksh was never meant to see war or even flaunt his existence but the siege of Akka was taking its toll. The great King Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn Ayubi needed a constant supply of fresh, able bodied soldiers after so many gruelling years on the battle field. This was why the young man from Cairo, whose beard was only a wisp curling on his chin, raced his muscled steed into the skirmish with his bow and arrow at the ready.

Nasir had been inducted in the Jaridah, the raiding unit which carried the lightest load, by virtue of his youth and litheness. His rigorous training in the Cairo garrison was like any other Mamluk's who learned military tactics and proper sword technique with the only difference being that he was one of the few in the garrison who had a mother to go back home to. Even with this particular difference he was not lesser than his peers.

He was careful with the use of his arrows as was taught in the Furusiyya code. It was only when he was near his target that he let his short arrow out of the nawak arrow guide. Nasir was especially keen to disarm the enemy in charge of lances. They were the most dangerous to his kind with the ability to maim horses and crush splinters into even the armoured riders. Worse off were perhaps those who wore heavy Lamellar over kazaghand fabric covered armour. The heat and the weight would wear them out faster and the lance, while unable to pierce, would make them lose balance easily.

The young soldier charged an enemy horse, identified by the Red Cross markings on its mantle. The white cloth bearing knight was sullied by soot and dust but it was still plain he was covered head to toe in armour. The heavy long sleeved Hauberk and other various bits of armour covered him completely. Even his face was covered by a nasal helmet. Nasir did notice the transport of the knight, the horse, bore no protection of barding. It was clear to him what he must do. With a small prayer for the innocent creature he released his short arrow into the thick muscle of the horse's thigh. The animal went down in pain taking his master down with it.

Nasir had no time to feel triumphant by the victory. The sun was in Nasir's eyes and his sweaty horse panted under him with the exertion. He took a moment to watch what his fellow soldiers did with the fallen knight but his pause proved detrimental because a lance painfully thrust into his side, dismounting him. The arrow guide left his hands much to his dismay.

He landed with on solid, pebbly ground with a thud and scrabbled for his small leather shield tied on his back and the knobbed mace he preferred over even his arrows. He still had more light weapons attached to his body in case of further emergencies.

He tried to get up but an enemy foot soldier adorning a bare minimum of armour threw himself at him. Nasir clashed his mace with the man's long sword. The enemy caught his mace with his sword and flung it aside. The young man tried to find his sharp darts but blows of the man's fists left him unable to breathe. He gasped for air but only seemed to be able to inhale dust. His side hurt so terribly he wished he could empty the contents of his stomach right there and then.

Behind the enemy was the view of what was called the accursed tower; one of the two main battlements in Akka. Nasir wondered whether the sight of the enemy soldier with his sword prepared to gut him like a goat was the last thing he would ever see before he embraced martyrdom. He closed his eyes and said the kalma under his breath when the heavy enemy toppled on him gasping like a breathless fish. His bleeding throat bubbled out blood on Nasir's face.

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