Blood Bound

By Chris Lowry

Seven Knights are selected by their leader to stay behind and defend a mountain pass from an advancing horde of Saracen warriors.  They are outnumbered, they are outclassed and know they're going to die. 

A Knight's code is moral, their duty just.  They will never retreat.  They will never surrender.

Richard, their chosen leader can't accept the deaths of such good men.  When their squires and pages double back from the retreat to die with them, Richard knows he must buy time to find a way for them to survive.  With the odds stacked against them, the only thing they can turn to advantage is the terrain.  The enemy can't approach en mass through the narrow slotted canyon pass where the Knights choose to make their final stand.

Richard needs all of his cunning and wile, and the skilled arms of his trained companions to hold back the Saracen horde long enough for the army to escape.  And he has a secret weapon, a mighty warrior named Ralf, a brigand turned penitent who seeks solace and penance washed in the blood of his enemies.

This story is non stop action from the moment it starts, full of betrayal, love and lust for battle. Seven men who took an oath to defend each other and vow to protect the young under their care must face death and sacrifice so that others might live.

Grab your copy of the Holy War today and get lost in an epic tale of fighting and forging bonds of brotherhood, and revenge set on the cusp of a Crusade.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Lowry
• Release date: Apr 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224074815

Chris Lowry

Chris Lowry is an author and adventure seeker who has traveled the globe exploring new worlds and writing about his thrilling experiences. With over one hundred thrillers, science fiction, and urban fantasy novels to his name, as well as more than a thousand articles published across various publications, Chris has established himself as a master storyteller and a leading voice in the world of action and adventure. Whether he's fighting off hordes of undead in a post-apocalyptic wasteland or braving the depths of outer space, Chris is always ready for his next thrilling adventure. Follow his journey as he battles against impossible odds and becomes the hero that the world needs.

Book preview

1

Chapter 1

THE HOLY WAR

A knight is virtuous. He never denies battle, even when he is outnumbered. A knight is poor, chaste, kind to women.

The Templar Creed

Rows of dark tents sat in blotches of darkness in the murky night.

Shadows moved among the tents, clanking in mismatched armor that reflected the small flames of crackling fires in front of some tents.

They spread out like spokes on a wheel from a larger tent set in the center.

The entrance was flanked by two guards who stared at the men shuffling in the darkness.

Each guard held one hand on a long narrow triangular shield set point down in the trampled earth, their other hand on the pommel of swords at their waist.

The shields were scarred and beaten, the red Templar cross standing out on the white nicked background.

A man marched through the tents, intent on the his destination.

His brow was furrowed in concentration but he greeted the men as he passed, a slight relaxation of the glare he wore permanently.

The tent flaps were flung open and an Saracen rushed out. Richard dropped a hand to his sword.

The Arab was followed by four bodyguards swathed in robes. It was Sayed, the diplomat and his entourage.

By the look on his face Richard could see that the peace talks were not exactly as he expected. Richard watched as Sayed climbed on his magnificent stallion and guided it out of the camp toward a small rising canyon in the distance.

After he could no longer make out the clopping of the horse nor see the dim shadows moving backlit by the starry sky, he moved past the guards and into the tent.

The General was packing.

The tent was crowded with two giant plank tables, one with a small selection of camp food scattered across the top, the second a neat and meticulous map of the surrounding area weighed down with heavy candle sticks.

The General, Louis stood at the war table and shut a small wooden chest. He reached for one of the candlesticks and set it in another chest.

A page scurried behind him wrapping up blankets with cord.

It went well, Richard jested.

You could tell, answered the General. The Army is on the move tonight. We can’t wait until dawn.

There were no terms?

Sayed is a stubborn fool and he represents an even greater fool. Of course, we agreed ot disagree and promised to meet again soon. In the interim, they still advance.

And we fall back before them.

The General glanced over his shoulder.

He was not as tall as Richard, but broader in the chest and shoulder.

His grizzled visage was scarred from many battles, and his eyes held the wisdom gained from years of experience.

He smiled and one side of his face didn’t lift as high as the other giving him the appearance of a snarl.

I have to protect my treasure.

Jerusalem’s treasure.

Louis glanced at him sharply.

Of course, Jerusalem’s treasure. You must remain behind to guard our retreat.

Richard stared at the General for several seconds as he considered the consequences of refusal.

He wouldn’t refuse and the General knew it, because in the Order of the Poor Knights of the Temple of Solomon there was a strict chain of command and swift repercussions for failure to follow command.

He voiced his concern to the General.

To stay is suicide.

Ah, Louis agreed. But imagine the glory.

The glory won’t matter to me. I’ll be dead.

Louis finished packing the second chest and motioned his Page to remove both from the tent.

Call in the Captains, he instructed.

Yes milord, said the young boy as he hastened out.

The General moved in close to Richard and placed a hand on his shoulder.

It’s been decided. You and six others will hold the pass while we fall back to a more defensible position.

Richard glanced at the hand. It was the first time the man had touched him in all of the years they had campaigned together. He scowled at his Commander.

What could be more defensible than this pass? he asked. They can only approach uphill, no more than ten abreast. We have held it thus far with no losses.

The Sultan approaches and with him the Horde, said the General.

He rolled up the map and packed it away in a leather cylinder.

There are ten thousand in the Horde, perhaps more. We would all be slaughtered if we stayed.

They can’t bring the full force to bear in the pass, Richard explained again.

He almost said it slowly as if speaking to a child, but he knew the General was aware of the tactical advantage they had with the current location.

There was something else, another reason he was moving the main Army.

We will not lose all we have gained, said Louis.

The General moved away from the table and sat in a camp chair.

It was placed upon a small dais and though it was a simple wooden chair, the General had it draped in velvet and shrouds.

Richard couldn’t help but note it purposely looked like a small throne.

This is about the treasure.

If we cannot save the treasure, argued the General. Everything we have done here is for naught. Yours is an impossible task, to keep the remainder of your brothers safe to fight another day while you give the greatest sacrifice. I do not ask this lightly.

You do not ask at all, answered Richard.

The two men stared at each other in the flickering light from a small fire in a brazier. The General’s face was impassive, the decision made. Richard knew arguing was pointless and a diversion of energy. He bowed his head slightly.

Who will remain with me? he asked.

The General nodded and snarled the half smile again.

You will tell them. I have preperations to attend.

More gold to pack, said Richard.

Chaucer. William. Canault. Ralf. Geoffrey and De Troyes, the General ignored hsi comment.

Richard sighed.

You do not make it easy.

The General spun around to give rebuke, but the tent flaps fell back in place and he was alone in his tent.

He snorted and the snarl turned into a full blown scarred smile.

2

Chapter 2

Richard marched through the dark camp his eyes carefully scanning the ground for any sleeping form between the tents.

Not every soldier had a tent so they often curled up in a threadbare blanket, back to back with a comrade to share warmth under the chill desert night.

He zeroed in on a small tent with a tiny fire glowing in front and stepped his way closer.

Three men hunched around the fire, hands and feet extended to the heat.

They glanced up as Richard approached.

We’re to stay? asked Geoffrey.

Richard nodded as he squatted next to the fire and rubbed his hands together.

They leave before dawn.

William was next to Geoffrey but the two men could have been brothers. They were of equal height, both with the same hair, the same sharp nose and piercing eyes despite being from different continents.

Who is with us? he asked.

Chaucer. Ralf. De Troyes.

That is all? It is suicide.

At least Ralf will be happy, said Canault. He can die killing as many of the Heathens as he wants.

I will not be happy to die, said Geoffrey as he stared sullenly into the fire.

None of us are, added Richard. But it is our duty.

Duty by Hell, William cursed. This is Louis’ revenge. Every sycophant with their lips on his arse is not staying behind.

Canault stood and stretched.

Have you told De Troyes?

I came straight here, Richard rose beside him.

Should we go with you? asked William.

His fingers danced along the pommel of his sword. Richard stretched and