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Jean-Michel continued with his story. He told of sailing from the fabled 'shores' of La Serenissima (The Noble Republic of Venice). He told of pirating their way across the Mediterranean and preying on Saracen ships, till they dropped anchor somewhere on the south coast of Anatolia. They camped on a desolate shore, living off tough, rubbery mollusks and brackish water from a nearby tidal river. Any peasants dumb enough to approach were slaughtered on the spot, even their own co-religionists, for Eastern Rite Christians were still somewhat common in the region. The supply vessels caught up with them after a few days, allowing the ego-ridden marauders to become 'gentlemen' knights once more. True, some of the mounts died during the voyage, but replacements were easily snatched from a sleepy, unsuspecting Seljuk fortress a bit inland. Remember, this is the First Crusade we're talking about. Things became increasingly more difficult with each succeeding holy war. The Army of True Believers closed ranks, formed columns, blew trumpets and headed east, killing all Muslims, Jews and 'Greek' Christians in their path. Jean-Michel was having a really nice time. The sky was blue. The sea was green. The blood was red. His saddle bag grew heavy with the jewels and trinkets of brutally slaughtered infidels. After a time, even the necessary raping became quite tiresome, so they made a game of it, one tally mark for the usual dusky local and two tally marks for any alabaster skinned, carrot topped 'Circassians' encountered along the way. Ethiopes and 'Maidens of Cathay' (an extremely rare commodity in these parts) earned three tally marks. Needless to say, our Burgundian gallant did very well.
But one night, after a hard day of ceaseless slaughter, as he settled down in the open courtyard of a commandeered caravanserai, our medieval Frenchman was tossed a different type of feminine plaything. She appeared to be a Circassian and maybe she was. That is not the important thing, for she was also a blood-drinker, newly made and as yet unsure of her powers. So there beneath a blue-black sky, brushed with the huge, frightening arc of The Milky Way, our soldier of Christ found himself enlisted in yet another army........ And he entered Jerusalem a 'changed' man........
But one night, after a hard day of ceaseless slaughter, as he settled down in the open courtyard of a commandeered caravanserai, our medieval Frenchman was tossed a different type of feminine plaything. She appeared to be a Circassian and maybe she was. That is not the important thing, for she was also a blood-drinker, newly made and as yet unsure of her powers. So there beneath a blue-black sky, brushed with the huge, frightening arc of The Milky Way, our soldier of Christ found himself enlisted in yet another army........ And he entered Jerusalem a 'changed' man........
