Archangel Michael

The Crusaders slowly gathered up in numbers, coming from every alley and streets slowly surpassing the number of Antonius' men.

One after another Crusader came into the gathering curious about what is going on ahead, why is there so many people of same kind assembling over here. Slowly the crowd of Crusaders became noisier and noisier until they became bustling like a bazaar market. On the comparison, Antonius' men remained silent without anyone uttering a single word from the start, only accompanied by occasional sneezing and sound of metal clutching.

The commander of the Normans, Tancred of Foggia finally arrived squeezing through his men.

"What is the commotion over here? We still have a fortress to occupy! Come on lads! The fun has not yet ended tonight!"

The Crusaders cheered raising their blades high into the air. "Aye !...."

"Now what is the fuss over here?" Tancred pulled one of his foot man before him. "Report, soldier."

"Yes, my lord." The foot man replied with a shivering voice. "We have encountered another group of enemy which we have no idea where did they come from, they are over there in battle formations! My Lord! We are here because we are worried about your conquest of this city!"

"Good man." Tancred nodded hugging his foot man. "Award this man with a few Dinar, this is the type of soldier that I want."

"Thanks! My lord!"

"Now, let me see who do we have in our accompany…" Tancred donned his helmet walking forward drawing his sword out. The first thing he saw, is the two flags, one of which he cannot recall, but the other one, it is too familiar to him, he saw this flag every day when he was sailing on the sea reaching here.

It is the flag of the emperor of the Greeks.

Upon seeing the flag, Tancred bursted into a surge of rage as he began cursing and hissing relentlessly at the Greeks. "What! What!? Hey hey hey, this, this is my city, and you are not going to take it away from me! You sly cunning piece of crap! You know what, I will not let anyone stand in my way of taking my city, you shall pay for even having the thought of it. This, is my demesne! You understand you worthless little scum bag, if your 'emperor' wants a city, go take it by yourself! Do not come here and take my results of hard work!"

But the sad truth is almost everyone at Antonius' side cannot understand what is this mad man cursing about.

"My friend, do you know what he is talking about?"

"I am sorry my friend." Abdullah tried hard for a while but gave up scratching his forehead. "This man… His words do sound like Italia Latin… But with a very special Linguistic dialect… A dialect I have neither studied nor encountered before."

"I have." Antonius replied. "A Norman decend, there are lots of them back in my child hood in Genoa… The Sicilians I've met last time are all of rich, well mannered and tough people, how did one such degenerate from that beautiful prosperous land?"

Abdullah giggled in embarrassment.

Tancred stood there waving his sword cursing and hissing but received not even a single reply from his opponents. Things immediately became increasingly embarrassing for him as even his own Crusaders are gossiping and pin pointing at him as if they are watching a show, a play put up by him.

This doubled the rage inside Tancred feeling that he has been humiliated, realising that these folks cannot understand his dialect, he went forward and shouted in a weird Latin. "Hey! Who is your commander! Let me have a word with him!"

Antonius signalled to the peers around him. "Prepare the swivel guns and cross bows."

Julian nodded and disappeared to the back.

"Is your commander a coward! Come on! Let me have a freaking word with him!"

Still, no one sounds off.

"He looks like he wants to have a duel with you admiral according to his Norman traditions, admiral." Anjelo approached Antonius and whispered. "Don't you want to have a hot blooded duel with him, slay him by your own hands, helping God to punish him for his sins?"

Antonius replied coldly without any expression on his face while looking at the Norman commander, as if he is looking at a pile of dead meat, not a living person. "Its blood will dirty my blood, and I am avenging the thousands of souls who lost their lives meaninglessly because of it."

Anjelo cogitated about Antonius' words, nodded in agreement at first but soon felt a shiver down his back after realising something, looked at Antonius, who is still fidgeting with his fingers, could not resist it and advised softly. "Admiral, please let me give a humble advice… You know, sometimes in life, you got to have the fear for the things that we cannot see, we cannot touch, we cannot feel, and with that fear comes respect, comes faith…"

Antonius' hands stiffed for a moment, but quickly went back to normal.

Anjelo bowed and went back to his position.

After seeing a torch being lit up from a window in a two storey residential building to the left of the harbour, Antonius nodded at Abraham and walked out of the formation line slowly step by step.

"I heard that someone wants to see me?"

Tancred held his breathe, he can feel it as an experienced warrior on the battlefield, that this man approaching him is no simple sea faring folk. Although it is still dark, but that posture, that body shape, that way he is gripping his sword all signifying that this man, is dangerous.

"Whoever you are, I want to ask why are you here in my city, provoking my rights?"

"Simple." Antonius replied nimbly wearing his leather gloves. "I am here following the examples of Archangel Michael, though I am not able to be like him victoriously slaying the Satan, but I believe, that I will be triumphant in slaying a lesser demon."