Chapter 1: Modern, and Crusades

Ali stepped out of the portal and took in his surroundings. Before him was a city with its own port. On three sides of him there was nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. In his eyes it was obvious where he needed to go. Looking over his garb he saw that he was dressed like the Bedouin of the desert. His face at the moment was uncovered, but he quickly corrected that: Ali had no intention of letting anyone see his face unless he wanted them to.

Heading into the city gates the knightly guards eyed him, but didn't stop him. There were plenty of other Arab dressed similar to Ali that he was easily able to blend in with the crowd. Among his clothes were a dagger and a sword, the dagger he kept carefully hidden while wearing his sword openly as was custom. Once inside the city he found a quiet corner and produced the dagger. He had already checked both weapons, but now he would need money and his guide had not given him any. Careful not to keep it visible as he held it Ali walked into the crowd. When he saw a fat money bag hanging from a man's waist he cut it quietly and slipped into the crowd. The owner of course immediately noticed, but Ali knew how to lose himself in a group of people. As a child he had learned to become an accomplished thief out of necessity. Left alone in the world he had been forced to provide for himself, and a child who had been forced into a militia didn't have a lot of conventional talents.

In a few grabs he had earned himself enough to provide for food and lodging. At a nearby inn he paid for a meal and room. While he ate he checked the crowd and noticed a few individuals giving him the occasional glance. When he caught them in the act the last time they quickly looked away. Ali guessed they were fellow thieves and one or two might have noticed his handy work. He recognized the one farthest from him as he turned away from the last fat merchant he had taken a heavy money bag from. The man hadn't intervened, so Ali knew he wasn't a body guard. Either way Ali didn't like the idea of someone like these men knowing where he lived.

In most cities thieves didn't like competition, and some even became violent when someone else stepped on their turf. It would be better for Ali to move and not take the risk of upsetting anyone. Finishing his meal he started to get up when he saw the three men head toward him. Ali knew that if he ran someone outside would think he had done something wrong, so he checked himself. None of the strangers had drawn a weapon yet.

"Greetings stranger, I am Azim, and these are my compatriots Beru and Kar. You have some talent." Azim said with a pleasant smile.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, but it was a pleasure meeting you. Excuse me." Ali said but Beru bared his way, giving him a nasty smile.

"I take it I have given some offense of which I am unaware of, and for that I apologize." Ali said eyeing each of them.

Already he was judging the distance between him and each man if things escalated.

"I'm afraid you'll have to do more than that. My friend here has a daughter who is very sick. You could improve your standing by offering to help." Azim replied.

"And this "gift" would no doubt be a sizable sum so I might help this very sick child." Ali suggested.

"Now you have." Azim said with a friendly smile, but in Ali's mind the threat was clear: these men were prepared to hurt or even kill him if he refused.

Doubtless they thought that because he was surrounded that he would surrender without a fight, but Ali hadn't started his life out as a thief: even he didn't like being backed into a corner. Smiling he looked at each of them as he acted like he was going for his money purse. Without warning his right hand shot out in the form of a balled fist and caught Azim in the throat. The thin bearded man gripped his throat and fell backwards, causing both his comrades to turn their gaze away from their quarry in surprise. Neither of them had expected it and the distraction provided Ali his opening. Rushing one he kneed him in the balls and put him between Ali and Beru who now moved to attack. Seeing the knife at Kar's belt Ali unsheathed it. One quick cut to the man's hamstring brought him down, leaving only the scared Beru, who reached for his own. Ali was far too quick and had no intention of letting his enemy defend himself. Leaping on top of the kneeling Kar, he sprang at his target bringing the blade down with a slash. Beru's face was cut and he screamed. Ali crouched down in front of the blinded man and stabbed upward between his legs. Blood spurted everywhere and the man fell to the side gripping his privates. As he bled out Ali finished Azim with a slash to the throat.

Ducking out the back Ali avoided the patrol who came to find out what was going on. Using a stack of boxes he found a way to the roof of the next building and hid up there. Once the patrol came out the back door they split up in hopes of finding him. It was at that moment that Ali decided that his new career as a cut purse had just ended. Staying on the roof tops until dark he snuck down to a well to wash off the blood. With that done he found another inn and fell asleep.

The following morning he awoke to the sound of loud voices downstairs, "Where is he?"

"I don't know who you are talking about sir." The innkeeper said, but Ali had a feeling he did.

Quickly dressing Ali climbed out the window and jumped down into a bail of hay below. Rolling to his feet he made it into the crowd. Ali could only think of one explanation for this close call: the thieves in the city had given him up to the law to remove the troublemaker. Unfortunately for them by painting a target on his back, they in turn had painted targets on the backs of their leaders.

When one knew what to look for it was quite easy to track a group of inexperienced thieves. Watching them from a nearby roof he followed them back to their boss' residence when they paid him his share. That night he approached the ground entrance in the guise of a blind beggar. When he was within striking distance of the two men standing guard at the door, he produced two throwing knives and threw them with deadly accuracy. As both of them dropped with almost no sound, Ali snuck into the building, making his way upstairs he found their boss sleeping. Drawing his sword he pressed it against the exposed throat of his victim. The cold touch of steel awoke the man, and he immediately froze when he realized what was happening.

"Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Ali Barai, the man you sent that patrol after earlier this week. You needn't bother to call for help due to the fact I've already killed your guards. Even someone else does here you you'll be dead long before they get here." Ali said.

"What do you want?" The helpless man said.

"I want you to pay me to kill your fellows. The same ones who wanted me dead or captured just like you. On the plus side this will leave you as the head thief in this place." Ali replied.

"And if I refuse?" He asked.

"Since I originally planned to kill you anyway I'll just dispatch you and offer one of the others the same deal. It doesn't really matter which one of you makes the deal. You just got the luck of the draw." Ali explained.

"I don't see I have much choice." He said.

"I imagine you don't." Ali replied.

Ali went into the service of Halid, the man who he had spared that night. If the man ever came to question the wisdom of his decision that night he had only to look at what had happened to his former rivals. One by one they fell to Ali's poisoned blade. Some died in their beds, while others died in crowded streets after being stabbed out of nowhere and left to die. Not one survived, Ali was nothing but thorough. He chose only the deadliest of poisons that would guarantee the death of his targets. By the time anyone figured out what was happening it was too late. When anyone else challenged Halid's authority Ali found them and silenced them. Since everyone had bodyguards at all times, he found more creative ways to kill.

A middle-aged man named Mustafa proved one of the most difficult to eliminate, so Ali found a place on a roof top nearby. From his firing position he launched an arrow into the man's window with a small sack of gunpowder attached. Already lit it went off inside the room. As guards rushed upstairs Ali continued to fire until he heard the screams of dying men. It was a fairly inaccurate way of killing, but Barai's main purpose was not to kill. Mustafa survived that night, but just barely, and he had the scars to prove it. The message either way had been delivered: no one was out of Ali's reach, and it encouraged Mustafa to re-think things. Once he had healed he paid a visit to Halid and offered him his due tribute.

Halid himself was so pleased that he offered Barai an additional bonus for not only scaring Mustafa, but anyone else who had been causing Halid trouble. The local lord tried to shut down the criminal enterprise, but Ali wasn't about to see his only source of income put out of business. Hiding more gunpowder among barrels of wine, he wheeled a cart to the city armory. No one bothered to stop him, as he had paid off the man who normally delivered the wine and used his cart. Once safely away he fired a flaming arrow from a hidden location and watched the cart explode, taking out the guards and the armory.

Leaving the symbol of a jackal and a written warning near the scene, Ali made it perfectly clear what would happen if the foreign noble kept pushing. In an effort to stave off further damage the noble left Halid alone from then on. Halid became practically untouchable, and the Jackal's fame began to spread. Jobs came in from other cities and towns, and Halid tried to play the part of a middle man. Unfortunately Barai now felt like branching out on his own. He was done killing two-bit criminals and was eager for greater challenges, while Halid wanted to keep their current arrangement. Barai in response quietly slipped away.

He had enough money now that he didn't need Halid's business anymore. In the port city of Tyre he started an information business where he trained spies to gather whatever he thought might prove useful to him. Money wasn't his only goal now, now he wanted power and influence as well. His favorite target was a corrupt official. It didn't matter if they were a priest or a noble. If one of them stepped out of line Ali's spies would be there to catch them in the act. His usual method of dealing with them when he had gathered enough evidence was to blackmail the official for money or favors. Through the corrupt men he had an in into the system of government and could effect how policies and orders were carried out.

None of the Crusaders could make a move without him knowing about it first. Saracen spies hearing about this network approached Ali to find out if he could offer them the intel they wanted. Ali made the spies go through several intermediaries as a way of protecting himself. He allowed no outsider to ever meet him directly so no one in Tyre knew his face.

When one of his spies reported to him the spy said, "The Saracens wonder if we could pass on troop movements."

"If we can?" Ali asked inside his dining room where they both stood in the middle of the night.

"They will deliver the usual amount of money in whatever method we deem necessary for our security." The spy said.

He was an older man dressed as a dock worker. Khazeem was the most experienced of his spies and a trusted operator.

"Speak with them again and tell them that we can provide the services they require for half the usual amount. When they ask why tell him that your employer would be honored to meet with theirs if at all possible. Of course this would after you are satisfied that our quality of service is good. One must take pride in his work of course." Ali said.

Khazeem nodded, understanding that he was to use his master's exact wording when he delivered the message. Ali didn't have to wait long for the response to come in, as the Saracens were eager to get the intelligence. Salah-ud-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub or as he was known by Christians Saladin was intrigued by the offer and when the troop movements proved very accurate the king asked to meet this Jackal. The meeting happened at the camp of the Saracen army deep in the desert.

Ali waited outside of the tent dressed as a black garbed Bedouin and fully armed. The guards resisted when he tried to enter the command tent.

"You will have to give up your arms to enter." The guard said.

"That was not the agreement, but if that is the price of admission so be it." Ali said.

"That will not be necessary. Let him in." A voice came from inside the tent.

"Yes sire." The guard on the left said though he gave Ali a warning look.

Ali seemed unaffected by the gesture and entered the tent to meet Saladin. One of the bearded men he saw matched the description his spies had given him of the Saracen king.

Heading straight to him Ali bowed at the waist and greeted him, "I am Ali Barai also known as the Jackal."

Saladin was not dressed in the clothing of a king or was wearing armor, so he was quite surprised to be recognized in his plain black robes.

"How do you know me?" Saladin asked.

"We have never met." Ali told him.

"Then you have a spy in my army. Someone who has actually seen my face." Saladin said with a look of admiration.

"I like to be well prepared before I meet anyone." Ali answered.

"But you will not confirm if you have a spy in my midst?" Saladin ventured.

"Who is to say when someone saw your face? Do you pay attention to every servant or passerby? My reach is long sire and I am very good at what I do." Ali replied.

"If you were in my service I could order it." Saladin commented.

"Then sadly I would be forced to end any possible relationship between us, and neither would benefit." Ali said.

"And yet you would do it anyway?" Saladin asked watching Ali's face.

"Without loyalty to my people, what is to keep them from betraying me?" Ali asked in response.

"I can respect that, and as a sign of respect I would like to make you an offer Ali." Saladin said.

"I'm listening sire." Ali replied.

"Good I too have done research on you and have heard tales of your exploits against my enemies. I would like you to remain here in camp and direct the gathering of information." Saladin said.

"Begging your pardon sire but I can offer you so much more." Ali said.

"How so?" Saladin asked.

"Establishing independent units in multiple cities gathering intelligence and disrupting enemy operations, training soldiers in the field that could effectively make each of your soldier far more effective, and lessen your rate of casualties." Ali offered.

"Tell me more." Saladin said offering him a stool to sit down on while he himself took a seat on his own.

"Imagine your enemies marching across the desert. Because of their armor they are tired and overheating. If you draw up traditional battle lines they have time to stop and recuperate, but if you attack them immediately then you will catch them unprepared and at their worst." Ali explained.

"And how do you plan to accomplish that? In the open desert a large army cannot hide behind dunes." Saladin replied.

"Let me show you." Ali said with a smile.

Saladin watched with his staff as a mock battle was about to commence. A traditional column of troops was marching through a group of dunes when suddenly the men in the column started to panic kicking up dirt. For a moment Saladin almost forgot that this was practice instead of real. While both sides had been told that this was fake the defending force had not been told how this battle with happen. The cries he heard were real as men were caught by surprise as men jumped out of pits or from under shallow hiding places in the sand and immediately attacked. Men fell down as they had been trained after being struck. Very few attackers fell while many more defenders died, and when a second group of horsemen attacked from behind a group of nearby the defenders were routed.

"Amazing!" Saladin said.

"With practice you will be able to put out more of these units into the field and stack the odds further against your enemies, but this is good enough to get the point across." Ali said eyeing the battlefield with a critical eye. Men began to get up and joined their fellows, the victors congratulating themselves.

"You have more than proven your point on this. What else can you show me?" Saladin asked.

Ali shrugged and said, "I may a few more tricks to show you."

A week later Saladin stood outside on a sunny day waiting next to a catapult. Saladin waited with growing curiosity as a crew load a large metal ball with a substance called "gunpowder" inside it along with a fuse. When the crew was finished most of them stepped away, while one of them stepped in to light the long fuse.

"Fire!" Ali ordered standing beside Saladin.

Pulling the leveler one of the crewman activated the catapult firing mechanism and sent the projectile on it downrange. When it hit the ground it exploded with a great impact sending dirt and metal shards flying in all directions. Saladin and his generals stood there speechless for a few minutes.

"Imagine that hitting a wall or a battle line." Ali said prompting Saladin back to the present.

"What? Oh ... yes. You can recreate this?" Saladin said.

"Chemistry is among my talents. I have found it useful at times. If you would prefer I can begin training your crews so they can begin experimenting with ranges and fuse lengths using these new bombs." Ali said.

"I don't understand what that will do." Saladin commented.

Ali ordered another bomb to be loaded. When it was up there and ready Ali stopped them from lighting it and walked over to where the fuse hung towards the ground. Taking out his knife he eyed the fuse for a moment and made a cut, tossing away the portion he had cut off.

"Prepare to fire." Ali said stepping away.

When the fuse was lit he said, "Fire!"

The new bomb was sent flying, but this time instead of exploding on impact with the ground, it exploded just around chest level.

"Hmm ... I was a little off." Ali said with a critical eye.

"That was certainly impressive!" Saladin exclaimed.

"Despite my error in judgment it still increased the level of impact it would have made on a target. That hit would have certainly caused a great deal more casualties due to bits of metal slicing through flesh." Ali said.

"With this weapon victory is assured!" One of the Saracen generals said.

Ali said nothing and merely walked back toward his tent.

"Wait!" Saladin called out after him and Ali obediently waited.

"Yes sire?" Ali said.

"You didn't respond to his comment. Why?" Saladin asked.

"The weapon will certainly provide you with a significant advantage if used correctly." Ali replied.

"But?" Saladin asked.

"You may regret using it." Ali said.

It wasn't until after the first battle using the new weapon Saladin understood Ali's last comment: seeing the bodies of both the dead and dying cut open Saladin thought he would be sick. It was awful sight that made even many of the hardened men on both sides would have rather have never seen again. A number of the wounded begged for death rather than deal with the agony and horror of their wounds.

"May Allah forgive me." Saladin said as he walked away from the battlefield with Ali at his side.

"After seeing things like this it easy for me not to believe in him." Ali commented.

"You have no regrets, though you knew I would." Saladin realized.

"Simply because I no longer feel something doesn't mean I don't remember what it felt like." Ali replied.

"How did you get this way?" Saladin asked.

"I was taken from my mother's arms at a young age and taught to show no mercy to my new masters' enemies, when other's hesitated I followed my orders. I even killed former friends because they didn't obey. If you knew the things I've done that you would hate me just as your god would if he existed." Ali said turning his gaze to the sky where vultures circled above them.

The following morning Saladin called Ali to his tent and had his guest take a seat when he arrived, "Your skills have been invaluable to this army, but your words yesterday concern me."

"You believe I lack a conscious?" Ali asked.

"No, your demeanor shows otherwise, but it is my belief that every man must believe in something. Is there anything you hold dear?" Saladin said.

"My own life and professional pride." Ali said with a shrug.

"Nothing more? No wife or children?" Saladin said.

"In the past I have been able to fake it, but the truth is I've never felt the need to start a family on my own." Ali confessed.

"Why?" Saladin said.

"Would you trust me with your children?" Ali asked.

"Yes." Saladin answered.

Ali blinked in shock before replying, "You surprise me yet again."

"It is my opinion that you are not an evil man Ali Barai, merely a man who has been forced to do things that no one else would do and now you are dealing with the consequences. May ask a difficult service of you? One that will stretch you even more than you ever have been?" Saladin said.

"I will try. What is your will sire?" Ali answered.

"How do you feel about politics?" Saladin asked.

Ali rode into the newly conquered city of Tripoli as its new lord. In the past few months the Muslims had managed several sound defeats of the Christian armies out in the field, before laying siege to one of the port cities that so many crusaders entered the Holy Land through. Ali was given the responsibility of ruling and protecting it from being retaken by the enemy. He immediately set out to repair the damage from the siege and improved the defenses as best as he could. While this was in progress he began organizing an organization that he called medics. Each of them would be trained to stabilize their patients as best as they could until a doctor could arrive to treat them. Their main duties included patching wounds, taking vitals, and using mild pain killers. Ali then divided them into part time and full time. While both would be on call in the case of an attack the part timers served one day each week where they would man a clinic setup in the city's market. The full time medics were assigned shifts everyday. The end result was an increase in public health since the common citizen could now bring serious and life threatening injuries to the clinic to treat.

Ali found side projects like the medics a welcome break from day to day politics bored him to no end.

Nasim, his head adviser one morning said, "Your pardon my lord, but messenger is waiting outside from Saladin is waiting outside."

Ali turned back to the two squabbling merchants in front of him and said, "I'm sorry gentlemen but it seems we will have to deal with your issue at another time. Please leave your concerns with my clerk outside the door and he will try to arrange another time for a ruling. Now if you'll excuse me."

"Of course Lord Barai." Both men said before taking their leave.

When they were gone Ali sighed saying, "Thank god that is over!"

"I take it you want to meet with the messenger immediately my lord?" Nasim said.

"Yes, yes send him in." Ali ordered with a wave of his hand.

When the messenger entered he presented himself to Barai and said, "My master, King Salah-ud-Din sends his vassal Lord Ali Barai news that a new wave of crusaders are entering the Holy Land Baldwin IV is still waging war with my master in the north a crusader army is heading this way to retake this city."

"Who is leading it? Do you know?" Ali asked leaning back.

"Our sources say a man by the name of Richard of..." The messenger began to say.

"Of England." Ali finished.

"How did you know that my lord?" The messenger asked.

"Let's just say I've heard of him. Anyone else?" Ali asked.

"A Philip Augustus of France, and Frederick Barbarossa of Germany. Our reports indicate they plan to join forces before they arrive." The messenger answered.

"When can I expect aid?" Ali asked.

"The king believes that he will be able arrive three days after." The messenger said with a worried look on his face.

Ali as usual kept his facial features composed, "You mean after the enemy will arrive at my city gates?"

"Yes ... my ... lord." The messenger answered nervously expecting Ali to be very angry.

"Please return to our master and ask on behalf of his faithful servant to please make haste with all speed while I try to do my duty, and hold this city against the invaders as he commanded me." Ali said getting up and leaving the relieved messenger behind.

Nasim soon caught up with him, "What do you plan to do?"

"Form a militia to bolster our garrison and prepare as best I can for what is to come as I just promised my king." Ali said.

As part of rebuilding the city's defenses Ali had begun training two new types of soldiers: demolitions and grenadiers. These individuals were trained to in one of two specific skills: using grenades safely and setting landmines. Each was dangerous work despite the high quality Ali was able to produce himself. The triggering mechanism was kept internally to cut out the risk of a stray spark that an inventor of the time might produce if they tried to make their own. Despite these very handy features there was still the problem of accidently blowing yourself up if you weren't careful. Landmines were buried in the sand around the walls for hundreds of yards. For safety the mines were planted from the outside going in with a path going straight to the gate so Ali's people could safely set them and walk back without blowing themselves up. The grenadiers trained at both daytime and at night so they could throw quite accurately. If that weren't bad enough there was one more thing Ali had been able to build, more like an entire set of things actually: cannons. Spread across the walls he had two of them setup to cover the clear path to the main gate.

When the Crusaders showed up Ali was quite satisfied to wait behind his city's wall and not meet the much larger enemy army outside it. Richard King of England drew up his battle lines, bringing his siege towers and ladders to the forefront. Catapults from the Crusaders began launching rocks at the city as midday neared, but the defenders didn't fire back as Ali had ordered them not to. When the enemy began to advance the reason became clear as randomly spaced landmines began to go off as they were triggered by the wheels of the towers or the feet of marching troops. To the enemy it looked like the ground itself was trying to kill them. As dozens of men began to die in the space of a few yards men began to panic and tried to retreat. By the time the enemy was a quarter of the way into the mine field Richard was unable to keep his lines stable and had to lead his men in an organized retreat or risk a total route. That night the barrage began again, but the defenders were in high spirits after their victory that day, while the Crusaders on the other hand were in low spirits.

"Amazing sire! Surely we could hold them off for a week without facing the threat of anything but their catapults. I saw two of their towers damaged beyond repair, and now they are stuck out there abandoned." Nasim exclaimed jubilantly.

"Until they figure out that there is a clear straight path that they can approach our gates by." Ali replied.

"I hadn't thought of that." Nasim said with a sudden look on his face.

"I have." Ali said.

"And yet you don't seem worried sire." Nasim commented.

"Because I left that path there for more than one reason. When the enemy tries to attack us down it you'll see why." Ali said turning his back on the sight of his enemy's campfires.

It took an entire day of searching before the crusaders found the path Ali had described. Richard himself led the charge but it was his men who took the brunt of it as Ali ordered his gun crews to fire behind the enemy leader. The effect was a splitting of the enemy forces behind the barrage men ground to a halt as specific area was pummeled. Few of them wanted to step into it, remembering how many they had lost in the last battle. Those who did were widdled down to almost nothing as balls of metal crushed and smashed into the bodies of the attackers. Through his spy glass Ali watched a head disappear from a man's shoulders in the space of a second.

"Keep firing!" Ali ordered as he saw the determined Richard continue his charge.

Despite being cutoff the English king had managed bring many men with him, which still made him a threat, but Ali didn't intend for this to last long.

"Arrows!" Ali shouted.

Archers with their arms already strained from holding their bows taunt released a hail of arrows into Richard's men. Some men slowed as they had to step over the bodies of their comrades. Anyone who strayed too far to the right or the left triggered a mine that blew off a leg or killed the individual outright. Frederick refusing to leave his ally to the slaughter charged across the no man's land with his most loyal men close behind. Half of them made it across leaving him with only a thousand. By this time Richard was almost at the walls ordering the battering ram forward.