Chapter 16: The Barbery Pirates

“You can’t have a better tomorrow if you are thinking about yesterday all the time.”—Charles Kettering.

Rome, Papal States. March 1072

Alexander sat in his office looking at the latest report from his spies and sadly shook his head. Recruiting hadn’t gone near as well as Pope Alexander had hoped. His army numbered only 10,000 men, up from 9,000 at the start of the year. It wouldn’t have been a problem, except he had received reports from Sicily stating the ruler of Palermo, Ibn al-Ba’ba, was in the process of building a large allied Sicilian army. If this went on, the Papal States would never be able to conquer Sicily.

Slowly, Alexander put the report down and tapped his goose quill pen on the table. He had to decide: attack now before his army was up to strength or wait until he was stronger. If Alexander attacked now, Ibn al-Ba’ba would be in a tight spot, but the Papists wouldn’t be able to conquer Sicily for some time. However, if Alexander waited until he had the strength to conquer Sicily, he might not be able to defeat Ibn al-Ba’ba.

Hours passed, and Alexander barely moved a muscle as he weighed his following action carefully. An additional consideration was: Would the Byzantines want southern Italy back? It could be a disaster if they attacked while his back was turned. Since the Byzantines had an incompetent emperor, Alexander figured he was safe. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be sure.

Eventually, Alexander called for Sextus.

“Sextus, I want you to get this letter to Michael VII. The last thing I want is him interfering with me dealing with Sicily.”

“Yes, Your Eminence. Do you think Michael will interfere?”

“No. He does not have the intelligence or nerve to attack. Plus, the Turks are keeping him busy.”

Sextus bowed, then left. Alexander didn’t sit long before he stood and went to look out over the city. Night had fallen, and the sky was clear, so Alexander looked up and wondered about his place in the universe. Another couple of weeks wouldn’t matter in his battle against Sicily; they were not the British.

Frankfort, Holy Roman Empire. March 1072

Alexander wasn’t the only ruler looking up at the night sky. To the north, at approximately the same time, Henry looked up at the night sky and thanked God for bringing Brunhild into his life. While nobody would argue she wasn’t naive, she was a quick learner and didn’t make the same mistake twice.

When they were married, Brunhild couldn’t read and barely could count. After three months of having a tutor, Brunhild could read most books as long as they didn’t have technical terms. Brunhild learned faster as she learned to read, so when Henry gave her the books Gretchen sent back from Britain, she was in heaven.

While Brunhild was busy reading, Henry was busy planning the Polish campaign. As they planned, Henry and his advisors wished they had maps of Poland. Many maps were so poor they bore no resemblance to reality, while others had been purposely drawn wrong. It didn’t take Henry long to figure out how spoiled he and his advisers were because British maps were drawn to standard size with accurate dimensions.

The Germans planned to advance along the coast until they reached solidly Prussian territory. Then, the army would head south until it reached Czech lands. After that, the captured land would be annexed and settled. None of the staff wanted to bite off more land than they could chew.

Due to the poor maps, German forces would be unable to move nearly as fast as the local Polish forces, putting them at a severe disadvantage. To help reduce the knowledge gap, Henry and General Roon were training as many cavalry units as possible. Since cavalry was the eyes and ears of the army, the more cavalry there was, the better. Spies were also sent into the area Henry wanted to conquer to map the roads, rivers, and settlements.

Paris, France. March 1072

In Frankfort, Henry was readying his forces for a war with Poland, while in Paris, Philip was busy counting how many people died the previous winter. As he read through report after report, it became clear how badly he had failed. Eventually, Philip couldn’t read through the tears and slumped into his chair.

“Philip, what happened?” asked an anxious Bertha.

“I failed,” he stated flatly. “I have been reading reports all morning, and many villages have lost over 60% of their population. Many peasants have no seed to plant this year and no animals either.”

“But how many more would have died if we hadn’t purchased food from the British? From what my servants tell me, people in the markets sing your praises because you did everything possible to find food for them.”

“That is another thing! We are so far in debt to Queen Marion I fear we will never get out. Anyone who attacks us can capture the entire kingdom without fighting.”

“Who around us will attack? Britain? If they wanted France, they would have kept it when they kicked Guiscard off your throne. The Holy Roman Empire? Everything there points to a long war in Poland. The kingdoms of Iberia? They have their hands full dealing with the Moors. I know you might not accept this, Philip, but there’s nobody nearby to threaten you for at least the next few years.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. You have time to rebuild your kingdom, even with the recent deaths and your debt to Marion. I know you do not fully trust Marion; I do not either, but she gave no indication she would attack us unless you failed to repay your debt.”

“I still worry, Bertha. We are so vulnerable right now; I pray none of our neighbors realize it.”

“Marion knows, and I suspect Henry knows, too. I am surprised he is not attacking us instead of Poland.”

“Bertha, Henry has long had territorial ambitions in the east. It makes it easier that Poland and the Holy Roman Empire have clashed in recent years. Henry probably wants to eliminate Poland while he has a significant technological advantage. Only then do I see him attacking us.”

“See, I told you; you have time. The question is, how do you best use that time?”

Philip sat in deep thought for a few minutes.

“We have to build our economy, with the first step being building a sizable road, rail, and canal network. The infrastructure not only aids with the economy but also makes it easier to move the army. While the infrastructure is being built, the military must be rebuilt and rearmed with modern weapons. Even if we can create a small core of British-grade professional soldiers, it will help.”

“What can I do to help you?”

“By keeping me on track and reminding me what will happen if I fail again.”

Philip smiled as he ran his hand across Bertha’s stomach. Under his hand, he felt his child kick. It was one of the things he had never felt, and he prayed the child kicking his hand was a strong boy. That would give him an heir to the throne and help stabilize the kingdom. Philip hadn’t told Bertha yet, but he planned to send her to York at the end of April. He refused to take unnecessary chances, and the best medical care in the world was in York.

Niðaróss, Norway. March 1072

While Philip was feeling his child kick his hand, Queen Ingegerd Haraldsdotter of Norway was doing some kicking of her own. After being on the throne for over a year, Ingegerd finally had her feet under her and knew what she was doing in the day-to-day rule. Even imperial diplomacy was becoming more manageable as she gained experience. It helped there were currently no powerful enemies nearby.

Ingegerd had two main enemies: the tribes to the East and North and her nobles. Unlike Marion, Ingegerd didn’t believe in taking a hammer to her nobility. She preferred to rule them with a lighter touch and rewarded them with land and power as long as they supported her. While she rewarded some of her nobility, the clergy saw no rewards. They had supported her brother against her father, and Ingegerd saw no need to play nice with them.

With a new spring approaching, Ingegerd felt it was time to do something with the native tribes hitting her frontier forces. The raids never did much damage but consistently left a few men dead and a few more wounded. By carefully raising an army, Ingegerd hoped to crush not only the natives but also the noble resistance.

By putting the worst nobles in the front ranks, they would either be killed or win great acclaim. Of the two options, Ingegerd figured the nobles would be killed. Most didn’t strike her as particularly smart, and she could get rid of them by sending them to the front.

The night after giving the orders, Ingegerd looked at herself in her hand mirror and wondered where the innocent girl had gone. The face looking back at her was hard and calculating without any of the warmth it used to have.

“If you keep staring at yourself, you’ll go blind,” stated Sunnifa.

Ingegerd sighed, “Maybe it is better that I do.”

“Why do you say that? This kingdom needs you.”

“What do I get out of it?” Ingegerd turned to look at Sunnifa. “So far, all I have gotten is heartache. Look at my face; I have only been queen for a year but have aged ten.”

“I have told you before, and I tell you again, you need to find a man to help support you. Ruling a kingdom like Norway is not something a single person can do. Look at Marion. Do you think she rules alone? NO! She has her family to support her. You need a family, Ingegerd. I have seen what happens to a woman with no family, and it is not good. For your own good, I beg you, find a family.”

Ingegerd sighed again as a tear ran down her cheek. “As usual, you have given me a lot to think about. But where would I find a man who would not try to take my throne?”

“Look to the artisan class, Your Majesty. Any nobleman will only be hungry for your throne, but someone from the artisan class will not be looking at your throne. If it pleases you, I can start making discreet inquiries to help narrow your choices.”

“Very well, Sunnifa. Make sure he is easy on the eyes and has a brain between his ears.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Sunnifa withdrew, leaving Ingegerd alone. Ingegerd looked out the nearby window, and by luck, it was a window that faced Britain. ‘To have someone like Luke, I would give everything I have.’

Cork, Capital of Kingdom of Munster, Ireland. March 1072

Toirdelbach leaned back on his throne and smiled at the latest news. The other Irish nobles had pledged a total of 40,000 men as soon as the crops were planted. To make the news better, his spy in Britain sent word that the British were withdrawing troops from Ireland to fight rebels in Scotland.

“What are your orders, milord?” asked Áed, Toirdelbach’s body man.

“We are going to attack on the first full moon after Beltaine. We will drive the damned British back into the sea, and any prisoners will be made slaves. As many rulers as the British have angered, British slaves will sell for very good coin. After we push the British out, we sail for Wales. My spies tell me the Welsh will welcome us.”

“That is excellent news, Milord, but how do we get across with the British controlling the sea?”

“We move across at night and live off the land. The British might be devils but cannot see in the dark.”

Algiers, Maghreb Al Awsat (Algeria). March 1072

Buluggin had been furious after his British whores escaped. His fury grew once he began his investigation and figured out they had been planning the escape from literally the first day after they arrived. It took him almost a month to piece together the story, but the British behavior made sense once he did. His favorite British sex slave, the redhead, was a former soldier and led the escape. Before the escape, she trained her fellow British slaves to fight, which made all the difference when the escape happened.

To keep anything like that from happening again, Buluggin sold all his slaves to tribes further south, tribes he knew would not be gentle in their treatment of his former slaves. Part of the reason for this move was to recoup the cost of the British escape, while the other part was as punishment for the other slaves for not reporting the British activity.

Replacing the slaves wasn’t a problem. The problem was getting the type of slave Buluggin wanted. He lusted for the light skin and fair hair of Northern European women, but with British control of the seas around Northwest Europe, the slave trade in Northern European women had taken a severe hit. It was even more challenging to find a slave with red hair because of the British blockade of Ireland. Buluggin had to satisfy himself with black women from the south and the olive skin tone of Mediterranean women.

Toward the end of March, Buluggin stood on the balcony attached to his bedroom and overlooked the city. To the west, he could see storm clouds brewing. While that wasn’t unusual, something about this incoming storm felt ominous to him, like the storm he could see wasn’t the only storm on the horizon, and the storm he couldn’t see was a far greater threat.

Eventually, darkness fell, and Buluggin returned to his chambers. What surprised him was that while the slave who graced his bed was beautiful beyond measure, he wasn’t aroused. The coming storm had him so worried that he couldn’t perform. If Buluggin knew what he feared, he might have been able to have fun with the slave, but he didn’t know what he feared. He didn’t know the approaching storm was far more dangerous than anyone could imagine.

Several hundred kilometers to the west, the British task force was passing through the Strait of Gibraltar. As they passed, Admiral Ewing stood on the deck of her flagship and watched as the land went by.

“So, that’s the Rock of Gibraltar? No wonder Luke said it made an excellent naval base.”

Admiral Ewing whipped around only to be looking at Colonel Baker.

“Hello, Colonel. What are you talking about?”

Madeline nodded her head toward the towering landmass to their port side.

“That peninsula was called Gibraltar in Luke’s world, and the British owned it. Now, seeing it, it’s no wonder: excellent defensive positions to protect against land attack, deep water anchorage to shelter large ships and a natural choke point where you can control all traffic in and out of the Med. I wonder if British occupation is in the plans? To take such a place after it has been properly fortified would take a massive combined land and sea assault, which almost nobody here can do.”

“Why don’t you ask him when we get back?” Admiral Ewing demanded.

“I don’t have to, yet. I know how Luke and Marion think, and they won’t attack somewhere unless that somewhere attacks us first. Only if the land can be controlled easily will we keep it. If not, we attack, destroy them, and go home.”

“Oh.”

The ladies stood quietly for a few minutes as they looked at Gibraltar. Then Madeline noticed the storm in front of them.

“Will that storm cause us any problems?”

“No. I think it will help us because it will hide the smoke our ships produce and keep the enemy boats in port. If we can hit them just after the storm clears them, we will have complete surprise, making our jobs much easier.”

“So, how long before we get there?”

“Couple of days at most. It depends on that storm.”

“So, first couple days of April?”

“Aye.”

Algiers, Maghreb Al Awsat (Algeria). April 1072

Admiral Ewing and Colonel Baker stood on the bridge and looked over the city of Algiers in the setting sun. The storm had only let up an hour before, and Colonel Baker was eager to get ashore. She wanted the attack to be a complete surprise to help keep their casualties low and increase the shock-and-awe effect of the landing.

Standing with them was Captain Leofflæd in her House Guard uniform and the Marine commander Brigadier General Thomas Scīrlēah. Scīrlēah was a very tough, no-nonsense commander who was, although scary to most troops, loved by the Marines since he made great effort to take care of them.

“There are not too many fortifications near the port, so that is where I think you should land,” stated Captain Leofflæd.

“How far is it from the port to where the mayor is?” asked Colonel Baker.

“Fifteen, twenty minutes. It depends on how much resistance we face. However, if we attack during their morning prayers, it would make our lives easier. Everyone in town will be at prayer, and if we move quickly, we can take control of the city before they even know they are under attack.”

“You talk as if the entire city prays at the same time,” added General Scīrlēah.

“They do. Devote Muslims pray five times daily, and the fucking mayor fancies himself a devoted man even though he loves raping unwilling women.”

“And is the Catholic Church any better?” asked Colonel Baker.

“Never said it was colonel. I’m just telling you what to expect in the city.”

“Would it be better if we landed some of the marines tonight and have them encircle the city? That way, when the main attack comes, nobody can escape.” Asked Admiral Ewing. “The last thing I want is one of those bastards escaping to warn nearby towns. I figure we will be in that city for at least a week while we loot it, and I don’t want to be surprised in port.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” stated General Scīrlēah. “I think that is a great idea, and I formally ask permission to carry that out.”

“What forces will you use?”

“The 1^st and 2^nd regiments. The 1^st will hit the west side while the 2^nd hits the east. They will travel outside of town and link up south of the city. I’ll keep half of the 3^rd on the ships as a reserve and send the other half with the Grenadiers for their assault. We can’t have them becoming lost in the surf.”

“General, my Grenadiers can beat your Marines any day of the week and twice on days that end in “Y.”

“Big talk for a colonel.”

“Both of you knock it off!” snapped Admiral Ewing. “I can’t have you two idiots fighting right now.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” replied Colonel Baker and General Scīrlēah simultaneously.

“As soon as it gets dark, I want the 1^st and 2^nd Marines unloading. We must have the city surrounded by daybreak because the Grenadiers and half of the 3rd Marine will attack the port at daybreak. Hopefully, we’ll catch them while they are in morning prayer. From what Captain Leofflæd says, the enemy has no firepower but still uses swords, bows, and lances. Those weapons might be obsolete, but they can still kill if they get close enough, so I want everyone to stay alert. Once the city surrenders, we’ll dig defensive works outside the city in case someone has the bright idea to attack while we are here. To give all the troops a chance, we’ll rotate looting duties. Most of the loot will be sent back to Hull on the supply ships when they return from their supply runs.”

The invasion started at 22:00 that night. To speed the landings up, Ewing had every ship donate boats to help disembark the Marines. The same thing would happen with the rest of the invasion force in the morning. Colonel Baker was nervous because they had no reconnaissance of what was behind the town. Things could become complicated if there were fortifications to the city’s south. The Marines didn’t have any heavy artillery with them, only mortars. Their heavy artillery was still aboard their transport because nobody was willing to take the chance of offloading them in the middle of the night.

To General Scīrlēah’s prediction, the landings took place without mishap. Everyone was on the beach by 0100, and by 0500, the city was surrounded. In the bay, the Grenadiers and half of the remaining Marines taking part were loaded into boats. They would land on the docks, so they would have to move fast.

As the Grenadiers stood on deck, Captain Tostig put his arms around his wife and held her. He would have loved it if she didn’t have to go ashore, but she was the Grenadier commander and was determined to go ashore with the first wave. It was one of the things Tostig loved about his wife; she would never send one of her soldiers somewhere she wouldn’t go herself.

“I wish you didn’t have to go ashore.”

“It’s my job, Tostig. I told you before we married I will likely die on a battlefield.”

“But why? Why do you continue in one of the most dangerous jobs in the army?”

“It’s my job, and I earned it. Aside from that, someone has to do it, and it might as well be me.”

Tostig sighed, “I still don’t understand, but I know how important it is to you, so I won’t ask about it again.”

“Tostig quit lying,” Madeline giggled. “You know you’ll ask me the same question before my next assault. Just remember, I love you, and I love our child.”

Madeline had given birth two months before, and while both parents were deployed, the child was under the care of the army. Luke had set up long-term child care for his soldiers. While the parents were deployed, their child could live in barracks where each child had a room. Children still drinking milk would be under the 24-hour care of a wet nurse. Since there were so many children, the army tended to hire any woman expressing milk who applied. This job was excellent for poorer mothers who needed the money or mothers who had recently lost their infant.

Finally, a bell rang from the bridge, and Madeline gave Tostig a final kiss before she went over the side and climbed the cargo net down into the waiting boat. The main invasion had begun.

Quid ibn Buluggin woke up just before sunrise. It pissed him off that he woke up so early, seeing as he had been up late the night before. Before the storm, his pirates had shown up with 20 beautiful women from northern Europe. These women were from the eastern Baltic, and every one of them had blonde hair and blue eyes. They had been bought from traders in the Black Sea port of Odesa, which was how they avoided the British Navy.

Quid’s favorite fantasy was the blonde he was with was the British queen, and he was punishing her for messing with his life. He didn’t want to kill the girls; after all, they had cost him a great deal of money to obtain. It was good enough to cane them before raping them.

Looking back at his bed, he could see the blonde who had spent the night with him still sleeping. He would punish her later, but first, something told him he needed to look out over his city. At first, nothing looked abnormal in the predawn light. Slowly, his eyes became accustomed to the sunlight, and his blood ran cold when he glanced at the bay because in the bay were eleven of the largest ships he had ever seen, and several of them didn’t have any sails on them.

Quid couldn’t comprehend what he was looking at, so he stayed rooted in one spot and mindlessly watched. After a few minutes, something began working in his brain again because he noticed numerous rowboats approaching the docks. That was when he realized his city was under attack.

“GUARDS! SERVENTS! GET IN HERE NOW!”

The two guards on the door quickly tumbled into the room with their swords drawn, swiftly followed by one of the servants getting orders for breakfast.

“What is wrong, Amir al-Mu’minin?”

“Look out the window! We are being attacked!”

“What?!?!”

One of the guards ran to the window and looked out. Quid was annoyed that the guard didn’t believe him but had to admit that he wouldn’t have believed the news if he had been the guard. The color drained from the guard’s face, and Quid issued orders.

“One of you, go sound the alarm while the other finds my troop commander and fetch him here.” Then Quid turned to his servant, “Fetch the head servant here, NOW!”

The servant took off like a shot, and Quid began to pull his clothes on while the whore in his bed trembled as she tried to pull the covers around her. Quid noticed and was annoyed by her behavior. He took a single step and slapped her hard enough to knock her out of bed. She was sobbing when he started talking to her.

“Get your clothes on and get out of here, you damn whore. Go back to your quarters!”

The whore scrambled to find her clothing and dress before her master hit her again. Quid’s military commander entered the room as she left, still trying to fix his clothing.

“What is happening?”

“We are under attack from the sea! How many soldiers can you deploy to repel the invaders?”

“I am afraid not many. At last count, you have 60 horse and 100 infantry in the city.”

“That cannot be right!”

“Remember, you sent most of your soldiers to help your brother deal with the tribe raiding him.”

“Oh yeah. Send him a message to immediately send those troops back with all speed.”

The commander went to the window and said with a grimace, “It will not be fast enough. Those troops are almost a week away.”

“Then we will have to hold the invaders off for a week. Now MOVE!”

The commander bowed and took off to organize the city’s defense and send a message to recall their soldiers. After the commander left, Quid returned to the window, looked out, and asked, “Who are you?”

Colonel Baker was glad to be back on dry land. She was tired of having her husband and the admiral always make fun of her being seasick. At least Madeline wasn’t the only grenadier who looked a little green. Once they were all on the dock, Captain Leofflæd looked around and froze when she saw a ship in the harbor.

“Colonel, that was the ship that captured me!” pointing to the ship.

“You sure?”

“YES!”

“Alright then.” Madeline looked around, “Captain!” she called when she saw a nearby marine captain.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Take your company and secure all the boats in the harbor. Several may be pirate ships, so be prepared to fight.”

“Aye, ma’am!” The captain saluted and took off with his company to secure all the boats in the harbor.

Madeline looked back to the captain, “Lead on. Let’s capture city hall before anyone realizes what is happening.”

The grenadiers ran through the streets with Captain Leofflæd leading the way. All was quiet for the first ten minutes as the grenadiers and accompanying marines fanned out to prevent flank attacks. Just as they reached the city’s center, enemy troops began showing up but were disorganized and were cut down.

The remaining enemy troops hid after the first two groups were cut down. The archers shot at the British forces and began making some kills—still, the British advanced. The spear infantry and cavalry were at a severe disadvantage fighting in such tight quarters. Sometimes, they could surprise a group of invaders and kill a couple before being killed, but they were usually killed before getting anywhere close to them.

Colonel Baker’s rifle was getting warm when she used a grenade to blow the door to the mayor’s mansion. She had been shooting almost constantly for the last 15 minutes. Once the door was open, Madeline rushed in with Captain Leofflæd and again was grateful for her small size as she could easily duck swords and kill from below. Captain Leofflæd showed her training as she shredded the guards before her. It only took them a minute to clear the room, and once they did, the captain led Madeline through the mansion. Their objective was the strong room since it made the most sense for Quid to be there.

To their surprise, Quid wasn’t there, but they stopped the servants from emptying the room. When Madeline stuck her head in, she whistled at seeing all the gold and silver. While Leofflæd forced the servants to talk, Madeline assigned two grenadiers to guard the door and to guard inside. She didn’t know if there was a secret passage but didn’t want to take the chance.

By the time she was done, Leofflæd had figured out where Quid was and again led the way. As they ran through the building, guards would pop out of random rooms and had to be dispatched.

One of the guards shot his bow before being killed, and that arrow hit one of the privates in the leg. He cried out as he went down, and Madeline was beside him, calling for a medic. To avoid causing more damage, Madeline wrapped the leg with the arrow still in place. Soon, the medic showed up, and Madeline took the rest of the squad with her.

When they got to the back door, Captain Leofflæd opened it and had to close it immediately because of the arrow fire. Madeline stood next to her and pulled out a couple of grenades. She armed them and nodded to Leofflæd. Leofflæd opened the door, and Madeline threw her grenades before Leofflæd closed the door. Outside, the British heard the grenades exploding and the cries of the wounded. Leofflæd threw open the door and pushed out, firing her rifle as she did.

All too soon, everything was quiet except the screams of the wounded and dying. Madeline was breathing hard and soon noticed the other troops around her were breathing hard, too. Once she had her breath, she turned to Leofflæd;

“So, what does this bastard look like?”

“He’s a fat man with black hair but grey around the temples. I would say he’s about your husband’s height and loves to wear flashy clothes.”

“Umm.”