The Eternal Empire (38 page)

From amongst a pile of rocks on one of
the hills, Mohammed Bin Rashid watched the legionary patrol begin its move
towards the village. He cursed, causing the men round him, hidden below the
ridge to look at him in concern. He had flown to the border from Damascus in
one of the few aeroplanes of the Caliphs air force straight after the meeting
with the Saxon ambassador. He intended to lead this ambush, destroy the
imperial patrol and build up his influence and reputation as a warrior and
leader with the Caliphs army.

There were several hundred warriors
hidden in the hills waiting for the signal to attack. With the exception of
forty men, all were on foot to prevent their animals betraying their presence.
The men of his personal bodyguard, all Wahhabi's from Arabia, had retained
their mounts to deal with the Roman scouts, two of whom lay dead with their
throats cut a few yards from where he watched.

It was the signal for the patrol to
rally that had caused Mohammed to curse. He had intended to wait until the
patrol was too far away for them to reach the village before he launched his
attack. Now he had to decide what to do. Should he call off the ambush or
attack anyway? If he called it off his reputation would suffer. He took in the
dispositions of the imperial troops with the practised eye of a desert raider.
They were still out in the open and dispersed, but would be able to reach the
village before his men on foot could overtake them. Unless he could slow them
down. He came to a decision.

"Aziz!" he called for the
commander of his bodyguard, who crawled up beside him.

"Mount my bodyguard," he
ordered, "and we will cut the infidels off from the village. That will
give our men time to catch them."

Aziz gave Mohammed a toothy grin and
nodded before scurrying off to implement his leaders command.

‘Today’, thought Mohammed Bin Rashid,
‘I will prove to all that I have earned the right to rule. When Egypt has been
liberated from the infidels I will be recognised as the foremost defender of
Islam. Then my father will have to give me more power otherwise.... well blood
may be thicker than water but it is only blood’.

The tribune was on a small knoll
watching the patrol make its way towards the village. A few of his men were
already amongst the buildings checking them for defensive positions. The main
body under the centurions command was steadily withdrawing whilst the other
legionaries were moving quickly to join them, with the auxiliaries covering
them like shepherds guarding their flock.

Despite the heat, Bryennius felt a
chill go through his body like a knife when he heard the high pitched war cry.
Every man in the patrol turned towards the hills and, frozen in shock, watched
as hundreds of warriors in loose flowing robes festooned with weapons came
rolling over the hill tops. Shots began to ring out from the attackers.

"The village!" screamed
Bryennius at the top of his voice. "Get to the village!"

Everybody began running, all semblance
of an orderly withdrawal gone. Bryennius ordered one of the scouts to ride for
help to the nearest fort then, remaining where he was, he began to sort out the
chaotic scene around him. They were heavily outnumbered but the main body of
Arabs was too far away to catch his men before they reached the village. Once
there he knew that his men could hold out until a relief force arrived. He was
about to ride over and begin organising the defences when he saw the Arab
horsemen.

The centurion had also noticed them and
realised what they were trying to do. He watched impotently as one group of
four legionaries closest to the hills were cut down as they tried to run for
the village. Knowing they would be ridden down if they remained scattered, the
centurion formed his men into a tight circle while still moving toward the
village. However the need to keep a close formation slowed them down and the
Arab horsemen would be able to get between them and safety. They could fight
their way through them but not before the Arabs on foot arrived.

Mohammed Bin Rashid felt elated. This
was the fulfilment of a dream. Leading his men in a wild charge that would turn
the tide of battle, the wind blowing in his face and his scimitar outstretched
before him.

'Allah Akbar! Allah Akbar!" he
screamed above the thundering hooves of the Arabian thoroughbreds. He drove his
men on although the horses were almost blown and had slowed down. In another
minute, Mohammed thought with satisfaction, they would be between the village
and the Roman soldiers. He was so preoccupied with reaching his target that he
did not notice Bryennius and a group of nine mounted auxiliaries crash into
their flank.

Like his centurion, Bryennius had
realised what they was trying to do and had gathered all the auxiliary
cavalrymen he could and led them in a headlong charge to intercept the Arab
horsemen. The sudden arrival of the Roman cavalry in their midst brought the
Arabs to an abrupt standstill as the two sides milled around engaging in
individual battles.

Mohammed Bin Rashid yelled at his men
to ignore the Roman cavalrymen and to press on to the village but he could not
make himself heard. Then he noticed the legionary officer who had lead the
charge which had brought his men to a halt. His face contorted in anger and he
turned towards him and urged his tired steed on.

Bryennius had knocked one of the Arabs
off his horse as he had charged in. He had almost lost his sword in doing so
and his shoulder felt like it had been dislocated. Holding both his sword and
his reins with one hand he drew his handgun and shot down another Arab who had
appeared in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glint of
reflected sunlight and only just managed to raise his aching arm to parry
Mohammed Bin Rashid's scimitar with his sword. His assailant hacked and slashed
at him and Bryennius struggled to counter the blows as their horses whirled
around each other. He received a cut to his forearm from the tip of Mohammed's
scimitar and he did not know how long he would be able to ward off this
fanatical attack when their horses drew apart for a moment. Bryennius seized
the opportunity to use his handgun and fired. The heavy bullet took Mohammed
full in the throat almost decapitating him and catapulting him off his horse.

Shouting at his men to retreat,
Bryennius dug his heels sharply into his horse and rode out of the melee
towards the village. As he cleared the confused mass of horsemen, followed by
three surviving auxiliaries the tribune glanced behind him and was relieved and
surprised to see that they were not being pursued.

The centurion and his men had reached
the village and they were busy fortifying a large house facing the oncoming
Arabs. The building had a walled courtyard and a machine rifle team was busy
setting up on the roof while the rest of the men were preparing firing
positions.

Bryennius and the surviving cavalrymen
came galloping into the courtyard and the gate was closed and barricaded behind
them. Seeing the tribunes arm covered in blood, the centurion helped him off
his horse and into the house where the medical orderly was setting up an aid
post.

For the next hour the besieged
legionaries beat off a series of attacks with their disciplined rifle fire. The
time that Bryennius and the auxiliaries had gained with their impetuous charge
had been enough to save his small command from being wiped out. When the relief
force arrived, they found most of the patrol exhausted but still alive. As
expected the village had been ransacked of anything of value, but what they
discovered in the small church came as a shock.

During the centuries of almost
continuous warfare along the border, churches and mosques had been respected as
places of refuge by both sides. Anything of value found inside was fair pickings
but the places themselves and any non-combatant were normally spared. When the
legionaries and auxiliaries entered the church they found that not only had all
the Christian symbols been desecrated, but that thirty of the villagers - men,
women and children had been savagely hacked to death.

The atrocity had been perpetrated by
Mohammed Bin Rashid's fanatical Wahhabi bodyguards who were maddened by his
death. The public outrage in Egypt at this atrocity brought about an outbreak
of violent communal rioting against the Moslem population by the Christian
Copts and a demand that the sacrilege be avenged.

The Caliph was grief stricken by the
death of his eldest son, and likewise wanted revenge for his death. What was to
have been a side-show, diverting imperial attention from the Rhine would turn
into a major theatre of war.

30th
July 1920

Cologne,
Saxony

The Saxon city opposite Colonia
Agrippina, bore the Germanised name of Cologne. At a small tavern overlooking
the main bridge across the Rhine Franz Maleric, dressed in civilian clothes,
sat drinking a mug of beer, watching the movements across the border. The
traffic was not heavy, mainly due to the punitive customs duty, but there was
still a steady flow of pedestrians and vehicles.

Franz watched as a large truck drove
over the bridge and stopped at the imperial border post. The driver handed his
manifest to the customs officer and after some discussion paid the required
duty, before proceeding on his way. The truck was carrying a consignment of meat
to shops in Colonia Agrippina as it did every day. This time, in addition to
the sides of smoked ham, sausages, slabs of beef and legs of lamb, the truck
carried arms and explosives. A few hours earlier the advance teams had crossed
the bridge in small groups posing as students on a camping trip for the summer.
Later on they would meet up with the truck and retrieve their weapons.

Franz knew the scene was being repeated
at crossing points all along the frontier, and there was no need for him to be
here. He should have been back at army head quarters sorting out any problems
with the plans, but he wanted to see the beginning with his own eyes. From the
moment the first team crossed the border the war had to all intents and
purposes begun.

It was an historic moment, Franz told
himself solemnly, one to remember forever. His mind searched for a precedent
from history and, ironically, came up with Julius Caesar standing on the banks
of the Rubicon watching his troops march on Rome. The comparison amused Franz.

"Once again, the die is cast.
Perhaps this time an Empire will fall instead of being founded."

1st
August 1920

Constantinople

Chief Minister Exanzenus read through
the papers in his hands for a second time. It was a report on the ambush of
tribune Bryennius's patrol and the massacre of the villagers in the church. Leo
Ducas had sent the report directly to the Emperor instead of through normal
channels and had demanded that he be allowed to launch a punitive raid to
punish the atrocity.

Alexander, seeing a way to increase his
standing with the people by endorsing popular opinion had agreed and had
ordered Exanzenus to approve it. The chief minister had questioned the wisdom
of escalating what had been an isolated incident, but the Emperor had insisted
and Exanzenus had demurred. After all, a minor conflict would divert the
attention of the newspapers from the economic and political crisis besetting
the Empire.

There was a knock on his door and his
secretary showed Gregory Nicerites in. He was carrying a copy of the same
report that the chief minister had been reading together with the order
approving the punitive operation.

"I see that you've received the
papers on the Egyptian incident," said Exanzenus casually, "is there
a problem?"

"I've just been to see the Chief
of Military Operations," said Gregory standing in front of Exanzenus's
desk. "He's of the opinion that the army in Egypt is not capable of
undertaking the type of operation that General Ducas has in mind."

"And why is that?" asked
Exanzenus coolly. He did not like Gregory Nicerites but he was from a well
connected family and it would take time to replace him. Besides, he was good at
his job.

"The army in Egypt is purely a
defensive force", explained Gregory, trying not to sound patronising or
irritated. In his opinion, the chief minister should at least understand the
rudiments of imperial defence strategy. "In the event of a war, their role
is to stand on the defensive behind the chain of forts from the Mediterranean
to the Red Sea. Offensive actions against the Caliphate is to be undertaken by
the army of Asia Minor. The Egyptian legions only have a few mobile units and
they are at the bottom of the list for modernisation."

"General Ducas is undertaking a
punitive expedition," said Exanzenus as though explaining something to a
child. "He's not launching a crusade to retake Jerusalem."

As Gregory began to speak again, the
chief minister silenced him by raising both his hands as though in submission.
"The Emperor has agreed and already approved it, so there is nothing
either of us can do about it."

Gregory shook his head in resignation.
He was about to leave when Exanzenus asked him to stay for a few moments.