August 24 1218 A.D. – Damietta, Egypt – The Tower of Chains

Allard was cursing his luck. He had finally arrived in the Holy Land with the rest of the fleet that had set out from Dover. But the passage had been as difficult as he had feared. The vast majority of the ships had arrived in Acre in the spring. But Allard’s ship had suffered damage in a Mediterranean storm and had been forced to seek repairs in Cyprus.

They had eventually joined up with the crusading army in time to join in hostilities. But Allard had been unable to journey to Acre and so had not yet been able to seek an audience with Guillame de Chartres. He was anxious to pass on his information and determined to get himself to the Templar headquarters as soon as was practically possible.

However, for now, other work awaited him. A huge Christian force was camped on the outskirts of Damietta, the Egyptian city of around sixty thousand souls. It was set snugly among the silt, sandbars, dunes and lagoons at the mouth of the main eastern estuary of the Nile. It was smaller than Alexandria and much smaller than Cairo, but the Crusader leadership regarded it as the key to Egypt.

Allard was part of a massive invading army that was camped outside the fortified city walls. Damietta was proving a difficult place to attack. The Crusaders would have liked to launch hostilities from the river. However control of the waterway was maintained by the defenders, utilising the means of a huge chain, strung from the city walls to a tower on the opposite bank. The Crusaders had rather unimaginatively, given this strongpoint the name ‘Tower of Chains’.

Several raids on the tower had taken place throughout the summer. Allard had been involved with all of them. They had not been in any way successful as the tower was tall, and its height made it easy to defend from an attack at river level. An ingenious solution was required, and it came from Oliver Paderborn, the scholarly recruiting officer.

Oliver remembered a passage from the Roman scholar Livy’s great work of history, ‘Ab Urbe Condita’. In it Livy described an account of the siege of Syracuse. His book went into lyrical detail, of how the Roman general Marcellus, needed a plan to scale the seaward walls of the city. The Roman nobleman had developed the idea of pairing Quinqueremes together, by removing their inner oars. They then constructed towers of single storeys on their decks. The vessels could still be powered using their outer oars.

To Oliver, it seemed that this concept could be used to construct a river born device that could be used in an attack on the Tower of Chains. And he persuaded the Crusader leadership to try the idea.

Two ships of the Crusaders’ fleet were joined together using ropes and sturdy beams. On tops of the decks, four masts were set up and between them poles and cloth were used to put together a platform that rivalled the tower for height.

On a late August morning, Allard found himself part of the force ready for action on the converted ships, which were to spearhead the attack force against the Muslim citadel. The vessel moved off slowly up the river, its bulk necessitating a slow, steady gradual progress. But after an hour or so, the Crusaders could gradually begin to discern the emerging outline of the fortress on the riverbank.

All talk ceased on the upper deck amongst the men who would be in the forefront of the assault. Allard performed a final check of his sword and shield, and made last adjustments to his chain mail armour and helmet. The tower grew ever nearer and the fighting men on the platform could hear the archers below, preparing their bows.

The gap narrowed, no more than ten yards now. Allard could see the determined faces of the defenders on top of the fortress. Mamluk slave warriors among them he thought, from the shape of the conical helmets. A signal was given from below and the air was thick with the sound of flying arrows. Screams rang out from the top of the tower as they found their target.

There was four of Allard’s fellow Templars on the top platform. Behind them, some of the ship’s sailors were manoeuvring ladders into position. As the vessel closed on the tower, the wooden constructions were dropped to breach the gap, accompanied by a loud roar from the attackers.

The knight to Allard’s right was first across the ladder. But he was brutally cut down in front of the first two defending Muslims, by a flying arrow. Allard and the man on his left were next. They picked up the body of their fallen comrade and used it as a weapon to push back the first line of defence and obtain a footing on the tower itself.

The next few minutes were a blur of whirling swords, flying arrows and the clashing of shields. The noise was deafening but none of the combatants noticed. The floor of the tower was becoming slick and slippery with the blood of the fallen. But the Christians were making slow progress and the Islamic forces were gradually yielding, even though they were fighting ferociously for every inch.

Allard felt a nudge in his side and one of his fellow Templars gestured to a door that led into the body of the fortress itself. A gap had developed in front of the entrance as the men charged with guarding it, were busily engaged with a group of Christian attackers. Allard nodded and the two knights ducked through the doorway and started to carefully descend the spiral stairs inside.

It seemed as though the whole of the tower’s garrison had been deployed on the top of the tower and there was no resistance as they moved to the ground floor. From the open doorway they could see the flat, dusty terrain outside.

“Allard. Come, let us move quickly. We may catch any rear guard forces unawares.”

Dropping his shield, the man ran through the door, his sword raised in front of him. Allard followed swiftly on his heels. But they were to catch no one unawares. Immediately on leaving the tower, they realised they had made a serious mistake. Ranged only a few yards on either side of the exit was a group of maybe ten Muslim warriors. It was almost as though they were waiting for the Templars. With a fierce cry they were upon Allard and his comrade in seconds.

Each of them turned, Allard to his left and his fellow knight to the right. Allard thrust his broadsword at the belly of the first man and sliced him nearly in two. He pulled desperately backwards on the sword, trying to free it for a second blow. But before he could completely clear the blade from the body, he caught sight of a weapon descending on him from above.

The axe head was sharp and deadly and attached to the top of a long wooden handle. In the centre of the blade was an elaborate, intricate carving. But Allard had no time to admire the craftsmanship as it crashed into his shoulder. Bouncing off the bone, the hard edge sliced through the Templar’s neck. He staggered backwards and fell to the ground.

Strangely his thoughts turned to his adventures in England. His dying movement was to grasp for the leather pouch, hung around his neck.