Late in the afternoon, as the setting sun cast crimson streaks over the walls, Jerusalem was settling down for the night. Yet, certain nervous energy ran through the holy city. Food and water were rationed a little less carefully than before – for one night, wine flowed like water. Siege engines were at the walls, one to the north and one to the south. An army stood ready to trample Jerusalem in her sleep.

But for the moment, though the ring of steel could be heard in parts of the city of the garrison sharpening her blades or smiths working the foundry late into the night, there was no fighting. Each party was biding its time – planning around one another. The defenders wanted to delay the battle as long as possible: It was heartening to know that their own supplies would outlast those of the crusaders, and an Egyptian army was only days away. Frankish invaders had other plans of course; the Genoan fleet had brought news of the approaching army and it was becoming painfully evident that if they were not sleeping in Jerusalem by the end of the week, they would instead be sleeping in the arms of Christ.
Each man, pious though he may be, agreed that he would like to postpone that eventuality as long as humanly possible.

It was clear, then, that the battle would be decided within the next few days. The Egyptian garrison, although poorly liked by the populace of the recently conquered city, had become the last thing standing between each family and the point of a sword. It was no secret how their enemies reviled them, after all, and defeat would come at much greater a price than it had when Egypt had taken the city under the pretense of protecting it.

Yet, in defiance of the army at the gates, the walls of Jerusalem stood strong. Though outnumbered nearly four to one they felt the odds were not so heavily stacked against them. They had after all fortified city, with two walls and three thousand men. One man might as well be three, fighting here! What’s more the garrison was well-rested, and well fed; quite the opposite of the Crusaders, who had starved the whole month they camped beyond the walls, exposed to the bitter elements and the slow wrath of God. Surely they would win the day, when heretics had the gall to assault the holy city in the name of God?
The poisoned wells hadn’t made life much easier, either.

---

Along the eastern walls of the city lay a dragon’s stable complex. There, although he was typically quartered on his master’s own property, Marduk lean-ed against an old wooden gate – craning his neck so that the dragon on the other side might rub its snout between his ears. The Arabian blue arched his back, tail thumping once against the stall, purring thickly quite as though they were all alone. Of course, they were not, but this would be as close as they could get tonight.
“Shh… be easy, Marduk.” Whispered the larger male, nipping the rounded point of his ear. “The Fatimid might be alien to us, but their swords are as sharp as their wits. The franj have no way to break our walls – they can come in by two points at most, and that’s not so very hard to defend against. The archers on the walls will kill them by the dozens if they are foolish enough to attack.”

Marduk sighed heavily, lowering his ears and looking out into the streets of the city. “I know, Alikar. But it is not always so simple. They are desperate, and desperate men will do terrible things. I am worried.”
His companion nudges Marduk with his snout and rather more sternly admonishes him. “Go on now, you fuss too much. Trust that God will shield you, and the world will mend our fair city’s wounds in time.”

Reluctantly, Marduk turned away from Alikar and ventured into the streets – pausing to ensure that they had not been observed by any humans. While his master might chose to let God be judge of his deeds, it was not exactly a sentiment shared by the rest of the populace. He’d learned the hard way that his relationship with Alikar was not something by the Quran. And people got very upset about that. Thankfully, the coast was clear, and he slipped back into the street and made his way to the Al-Aqsa mosque. Of course, being a dragon, he could not enter the mosque or in fact any holy site belonging to any of the three primary religions in Jerusalem. Nevertheless, he bowed his head toward the structure, devoting a moment of silence.

Hayate stumbled out of the house he was staying in, his pack slung over his shoulder for now. He was only in partial armor currently, wanting to display the cross on his chest rather prominently to show his faith to God. Though he figured that the people he was renting a room from had differing beliefs than him, they had charged him prices fit for much better service, such prices only wealthy nobles should have to pay. Needless to say, it had bled him dry of his funds. Still, he was grateful that he had been allowed to stay at all, a heavily armored knight coming to the city in Christian gear was likely not really very...approved of. He paced out into the city for the night, hoping to draw less attention than during the day. Carrying his armor in his pack was...quite uncomfortable, but if he placed it on it was very likely he would draw more attention than his crossed shirt, and he couldn't very well take off his clothing.

He checked to see his armor had hid his stores of magic energized gems well enough and started asking around for directions to the nearest temple he could worship God in. Of course, he was not a Jew, so the temple would not serve the same purpose, but either way he would receive a quiet place to gather his thoughts and commune with God. He had at least three days after all. He would have time to sort out the correct place to show his faith, or perhaps just bringing back proof of his visit would be enough. Eventually he stumbled upon a huge...creature, bowing its head before a mosque. He had heard of these, dragons they were called. They were branded dangerous creatures in his land, and without his armor he did not think he stood much chance of taking one out, though it didn't appear to be too focused on him at the moment, so he dropped his heavy pack, which gave a loud clanking noise and started fastening on his armor, whether or not the dragon noticed him. Upon gearing up entirely he took a breath and dropped into a stance before stating, "FOUL BEAST! Prepare yourself!" He had noticed its bowed head and was beginning to wonder if it had been trained that or some such, but for now he wanted to see its response to his threat.

"Make sure you pray, girl."

Rhiannon nodded mutely, her head bowed and hands clasped tightly around a set of prayer beads. This was the third saint she had been forced to pray to in hope the evil spirit possessing her might finally be exorcised. There was silence as she, and her mother, prayed but it was clear that her father was impatient; revealed by his faster and deeper breathing.

"Well, do you feel different? Has it gone?" A flash of irritation passed through Rhiannon but she removed it easily thanks to the serene peace she felt while kneeling before the shrine.

"I don't know, tad. I feel at peace." There was grunt from her father, she had said that at the previous two shrines as well. Thankfully her mother was far more patient; she had been far more enthusiastic about this pilgrimage.

"Now now, God will surely smite the spirit when it is time; we will simply return every day to one of His servants and hope that that will be whom he smites the spirit through." They all crossed themselves and then left the Church. Rhiannon's knees were sore from her hours of prayer but she felt better for doing so, as always. Unfortunately it was late and there was a festive atmosphere in the city which was dangerous for them; Rhiannon's cowl and black habit clearly marked her out as a Christian and a 'Frank' although her family were keen to correct everyone; they were Welsh.

"It's not far to the Patriarch's manor, come quickly." Her father commanded and they hurried down the main street, averting their eyes and stepping out of the way of any Muslims regardless of their station; it was better to be safer than sorry with vengeance barely a moment away. The streets became busier as they neared the compound and they had to fight to stay together.

Nevertheless, Rhiannon was separated from her parents and backed into an alleyway to get clear of the press. She knew where the manor was so she carried down the alleyway, hoping to take a different street there but instead came out to be faced by a large man facing off against one of the strange dragon creatures Rhiannon had seen for the first time in Jerusalem. It was clear that the man was prepared to fight but his reason was clear. His appearance clearly identified him as a 'Frank', just like her and attacking one of the precious dragons was going to land him in trouble. Stepping out from the shadows of the alleyway Rhiannon placed a small hand on the man's muscled arm and began to sing a slow, calming lullaby with her heretical power mixed in with it.

"Calm yourself, bach. You'll start a bloodletting of Christians if you do this."

Mordecai arose from his bunk, careful to avoid waking his wife. It was the third time he had awoken that evening, only managing to sleep for minutes at a time. His family's devotion to their faith antagonized the Islamic rulers of Jerusalem, and therefore, while Christian knights could wander at will, they were forced to meet in secret during the night. So far, the only disadvantage to this arrangement had been the strange looks from next door about their apparent negligence of their working life.

But now, things were different. The Crusader Army had arrived at the gate of Jerusalem, and it was essential that they gain every Christian they could find. Mordecai and the other Christians and Messianic Jews in the city had made plans to escape, and the time was ripe. As soon as the Frank army broke through the walls, they could join their fellows and assist in ridding the Holy City of the oppression of the Saracens.

Mordecai crept to the door and opened it slowly, trying to avoid causing the hinges to creak. A gust of cool air met him, bringing with it a host of smells - leather, fish, alcohol. He shut the door softly behind him and stared out along the street. It was illuminated by the light of the silvery moon, bathing everything in a soft, white embrace.

Suddenly, Mordecai noticed something at the door to the nearby Mosque. 3 silhouettes, one dragon, a man and a young woman. The dragon appeared not to have noticed the humans' presence, but it was the girl that concerned the Christian the most. She seemed to be singing to the man, enchanting him with strange words.

Clutching his staff tightly, Mordecai charged up the hill towards them. "Young lady!" He cried. "Stop this sorcery at once!".

Marduk was not roused by the clamor of armor – it was after all a city at war, and the armored men patrolling the city could only be the Egyptian soldiers. They would not turn spear against their own assets, after all. It was not until a cutting Norman voice reached his ears that the he turned.

Although the tongue was foreign, Hayate’s threat was clear. Unwilling to retaliate, the well-trained dragon stepped nervously away from his assailant and lowered his head – a display of submission meant to convey that he was not dangerous! That he did not want to fight! His ears flattened against his skull, conveying just how nervous he was.
And then, it was as if people had begun to come out of the woodwork. First this knight, and a woman – although clearly Frankish, like the first, she seemed to be protecting him. Or at least trying to talk the man out of making what would surely be a very big mistake. Marduk himself could not retaliate, but his master would certainly have something to say if he were killed! Not that this gave him much comfort, as it wouldn't help him a whole lot if he had bits of metal stuck in him. Yet… for all that, her voice was sweet, and he couldn’t help but feel as if he were just a little safer.

Hesitantly, the dragon would try and speak up. He knew better than to try Arabic – Dhimma were forbidden to speak it, and there were no Muslims from the West. Not, at least, as far as he was aware. Even if they did know the language, they might be reluctant to use it where they might be punished for doing so – one was very clearly Christian, after all, judging by the mark on his shirt. On the other hand, Latin was… worth a try. He knew of its significance to Christendom – even if he was under the probably mistaken impression that every Christian was fluent, just like Muslims in the city spoke Arabic – and he had learned enough of it through his master to be able to function.
“…I do not want to fight. Not allowed to fight. I am not a… warrior.” He says, grasping for the right word. He would not dare rise from this self-subjecting posture, though – not until the threat was withdrawn. The arrival of yet another human only further complicated matters and he wasn't liking where this was going, not one bit. After all, religious tensions were running a little high at the moment, and here he was surrounded by Christians…
Hadn't they all been expelled from the city, though? Where were they coming from? He couldn't help a glance toward where he knew the nearest siege tower to lie, off in the distance… even if he knew better.

Hayate stood up strong, armor and posture stiff and ready for combat even as the girl urged him in a soothing tone to stop his actions. He did note he felt slightly less compelled to harm the dragon, even were it to attack, but he hadn't been planning on acting outright in the first place. He stared between the two and started to relax his guard when the dragon stated it was not wanting to fight, and likely could not...though larger than him. This answer satisfied Hayate and as he dropped his stance just about the time an elder came over to chastise the girl that had tried to keep him calm.

The fact that he was condemning sorcery unnerved Hayate a bit, as if Hayate's pack was examined, this man would probably be able to tell he had stores of it. He edged a bit away from him because of it and then turned to the female, examining her for a bit before kneeling down and offering his thanks. He took the language the dragon had for this, to offer a common tongue, "Your attempts were appreciated, though I think we should check on the dragon. Perhaps I scared him a bit more than intended?" He looked back at the dragon, thinking that would be kind to the odd creature after giving such a random threat, he was probably wondering why. He didn't want to draw the elder man's attention too much to him though, so he only offered him a small, "Greetings..." and yanked his pack a bit further away.

He had chosen not to remove his armor, mostly because it would take another few minutes to do. And upon reaching close enough he knelt and patted the drake's head before saying, "You have no reason to bow, I issued the threat." Leaving further action to the dragon while he focused on the other two humans that were...probably more of a danger considering what the dragon said, though he was curious as to the dragon's bowing to the mosque. He gestured with a hand, the armored limb clanking as it moved about. "...I'm not sure you can call what the young lady did sorcery though, a voice can have a soothing effect." He wasn't entirely sure it wasn't sorcery, but he was not going to condemn her yet for it.

Mordecai whipped his staff round, pointing it directly at the girl. The knight's comments were almost unheard - the child could be dangerous.

The end of his stave glinted in the moonlight. Unbeknownst to most, embedded in the tip was a splinter of the Cross. How he came about it, he would never tell. But what it could do - well, that was a different matter.

He studied her eyes, her face, her small, concerned movements. Deadly silence descended on the four, including the dragon. Then his own eyes widened in realisation.
"Child." He whispered - in Latin, it was evident that she was European. "Forgive me. You are no sorceress." Mordecai paused, and took a breath. "Yet there is something strange about you, something, different." To the man he turned, and said; "Worthy Knight, my deepest apologies. I thought you were in danger." He marked with favour the cross on his breast.

To the dragon, he said; "Nobel dragon, excuse my rudeness. Greetings, I am Mordecai. I am sure you can decipher from what language my name comes from. Please, do not spread it around!"

Rhiannon stepped nervously away from the elderly man, wielding a stave and all divine fury as if he were a prophet; he certainly looked like one. The offering of apology relaxed her although his assertion that something differed about her made the anxiety return and she looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear.

"Please, sir, I'm here on Pilgrimage. The Father at my village issued me this Pilgrimage as he fears I may be... possessed by an evil spirit. It gives my voice a siren's powers if I will it and I've never hurt anyone but if he says it is evil I must exorcise it. Please don't tell anyone though, they would burn me as a witch." Speaking in fluent Latin, taught to her by the Father who disapproved of the Bard's teaching, she continued to look around nervously, prayer beads clutched between her shaking hands again. She had noticed the large man's eagerness to stay away from the Prophet-like man but drew no attention to it, she knew all to well the necessity of keeping a secret.

"I pray at the feet of a different saint every day from Matins until Nones to cleanse myself of the spirit." She continued her explanation, eyes glancing around them or for her parents; her father in particular was growing tired of this Pilgrimage and she sensed a growing animosity from him, perhaps he would tie her to a stake himself if this continued.

"Peace child. I wish you no harm." said Mordecai quietly. "I sense no demon within you. If it is this singing that troubles you, do not fear. They are no words of witchcraft. Whatever it may be, the Saints were human too. They cannot help you. If indeed you need help at all!". He paused to stroke his beard, re-angling his stave to support his body weight.

"I was gifted greatly by the Lord. Miracles, healing and discretion, I retained from the line of my forefathers. The former two gifts vanished from most believers - God only gave them to achieve great things for the Church. Therefore, I have always known that one day, I will achieve something important." Mordecai leaned closer. "Discretion is the gift concerning you. And there is nothing, I repeat nothing, that could link these ballads to any sort of unclean spirit."

The dragon is, admittedly, reluctant to move under the pall of silence. Nervously, he pushes his nose into the knight’s fingers – unconsciously seeking comfort. Was the woman in fact a sorceress? Her own account implied a much greater evil. Would it be safe to stay alongside a woman who was possessed? But then, could he trust the word of Christian priests in the first place?

Well, if nothing else, he was glad that they had found a common tongue. Marduk pulled away from Hayate’s hand and stands up – his eyes slightly turned away from the knight, his ears angling back a little bit again. He was embarrassed! Clearing his throat and summoning his courage, though, the dragon would interject himself into the wider conversation. “…It is not ours to judge. She may as easily be blessed as cursed. As it is, even if she is ill, her will seems to remain intact. She is not… dangerous, no more so than a knight with his sword.” Here, his eyes rest briefly on Hayate. “If she abuses her gift, and uses it for evil, then Allah will judge her so when it is her time.”

He sighs, then, when Mordecai himself appears to absolve her of witchcraft. He… really is not certain what to think of this. Having gained some degree of confidence, though, he moves on to address Hayate. “As for you… I am uncertain what to think. You have interrupted my prayer with a threat most dire, and now you act as if nothing had happened. What were you thinking? What do you hope to accomplish? You would be jailed if you had been seen, or with franj crusaders like yourself besieging the city itself, perhaps killed on sight. In fact, you are still violating the laws of the land. Dhimma cannot arm themselves as you have!” Here, Mordecai earns a glance as well. He hadn't missed that bow! It’s a little difficult to tell from his tone, though, whether he’s angry or concerned. Frankly, he’s not sure. Maybe a little of both.

Hayate was uncertain of the girl as well, if she really was a sorceress, then surely her actions would have seemed a bit more suspicious yes? He was not an expert on the topic though, despite being one who used magic himself. Comparing that to the situation, he figured the actions of one might not be suspicious, he thought his actions were not suspicious after all. He hears her comment that she may be possessed and is trying to cleanse such a spirit, thinking that her description of herself sounds valid, it could easily be just as persecuted as if she used magic after all. Though at least she appeared to be trying to resolve it as well. He listened to Marduk and smiled briefly, the dragon's sentiments were his own.

"Yes, she shall be judged for good or naught by..." He paused to stare at the Mosque Marduk was bowed before, and seemed to realize that he had prevented the dragon from a moment of peace. Upon this recognition he frowned and strode from the beast's side, back over towards Rhia, "I was not aware you were praying...that was my folly. Though as for why, I have never seen a dragon before. I have heard you are dangerous creatures, which I wanted to judge for myself. I am satisfied, you have had ample time to attack, in moments it seemed my guard was down, and you have not. I hope you will forgive me for interrupting your prayer." He spread his arms to the side to reveal his body more and added, "I do not have arms on me either if you notice, merely armor. Though I suppose I can get in trouble for that." The nonchalant answer was meant to serve making efforts searching him dissuasive, for though he did not have arms on him as he said, his store of energy would be....problematic if discovered. "If the armor discomforts you I can remove it again, and I am not a crusader."

Here he explains his goal, "I have come to this city as a pilgrimage, like the young lady. My faith has been questioned, and I wished to show it good by journeying thousands of miles to the scene of our Savoir's death......." He was silent for a moment her before kneeling to Marduk in case he had somehow insulted the dragon's faith.

Rhiannon nodded, accepting the kind words directed towards her although she was keenly aware of the discomfort her presence brought about due to the ambiguity of the spirit's morality.

"The... spirit has never been malicious." She tried to assure them. "In fact it has only... acted to help others. But the Father said it was a malignant spirit and that it must be cleaned. He would only speak if God had told him it was so and this Pilgrimage was a way of redemption for whatever sin I committed to bring it upon me." The young girl had returned to her penitential apologising, head bowed so that the spirit would not attack any of those around her. She had, however, noticed the large man's accent and placed it after some difficulty and a flare of fear rose in her; too long had she had to run from his kind.

"I... I believe it is normal for us to protect ourselves when so much hatred is directed towards those of our faith at this time." Rhiannon spoke towards the dragon, not accusingly but with a certain amount of self-defence. She was not, however, going to reveal the dagger hidden under her robes just to show solidarity with the two men.

"If we are not careful we may all be taken in by the guard. They've already begun to execute brawlers and thieves regardless of their faith and it would be wise for us not to look so close to violence."

Mordecai nodded understandingly. Clearly, the girl was uncomfortable - it would not be prudent to go on about her, condition, if that was the right word.

He raised his eyes skyward, and noticed that already the first faint tint of the dawn was appearing in the eastern sky. His staff felt heavy in his hand, and he realised that he hadn't slept all night.
"The Crusader Army won't wait forever." murmured Mordecai. In a louder voice he said; "Swift you must be if you are to find your parents before daybreak. The city is under attack, and the victor's identity will decide the future of the Holy Land."

With that, he gathered up his robes and turned from the group, his eyes fixed on the Mount of Olives in the distance. Hastily constructed tents and workshops were pitched almost at random on its lower slopes, but the Christian force had not touched the crest of the hill. It was considered a Holy place, and both Jews and Christians held it in high esteem. They would not dare to camp on the height.

Hayate had kneeled before Marduk, and the dragon had no idea how to react to this. He was beside himself, ears back against his head as he struggled to fabricate a response that would be appropriate. Finally he steps back from the knight and urges him, failing to completely quell the distress in his voice. “…Stop that… it’s… you’ll make a scene. Please.” He glanced over his shoulder, nervously twitching his tail. After a moment he returns his attention to Hayate. “…It says in the Quran… "Argue not with the People of the Scripture ..., save with such of them as do wrong; and say: We believe in that which hath been revealed unto us and revealed unto you; our God and your God is One, and unto Him we surrender." His tone clearly indicates quotation, although he stumbles translating it. Latin is not exactly his language of choice. “…It is not my place to pass judgment. You follow Allah in your own way.”

Mordecai’s reminder of the army waiting outside was not a welcome one. Marduk frowned, following the Hebrew’s gaze. The Mount of Olives was indeed visible, her slopes decorated with knights by the thousand. Or rather, the retinue that traveled with the army itself. The silhouette of the siege tower was just visible, outlined by the rising sun. If one looked very closely, it could be seen to roll forward – inching toward the walls.

Marduk did not immediately register the movement of the tower to be anything of significance. This section of the wall was sparsely defended, her guards only now rousing themselves for the day ahead. The alarm went up then and spread through the city like a wildfire. Jerusalem came alive all at once, soldiers swarming up the guard towers and peasants pouring into the streets to confirm their fears. With a resounding boom, the tower’s bridge struck the outer wall – a furious battle cry rising from the crusading army that could be heard all through the city. The invaders struck up torches, bathing the besieged portion of the wall with flickering light that needed only to last as long as it took the sun to properly rise. It would not take long.
The few soldiers on that section of the wall scattered, those that stayed falling swiftly beneath the crush of bodies. It only took seconds for reinforcements to arrive, men pouring in from both sides of the breach. But the crusaders’ foothold had been established – they would not have to fight from the tower. Man after man swarmed up the siege engine until not a single soul more could fit on the walls, and they who dared not try to squeeze into the fray instead picked up their crossbows and opened fire over the heads of their comrades into the back lines of the Fatimid garrison. Visibility might have been poor, but it was hard to miss a whole platoon.

Looking on, the dragon’s heart sank; it had begun. Marduk lowered his head, now more conscious than ever that he was in the presence of armed Christians. His voice is shaky when he speaks, and he cannot quite bring himself to look at them. “…You had better go to the Sepulcher.” He said quietly. “...It is for you they fight. I imagine you will be safe enough.” The obvious implication being that he, of course, does not expect to receive such amnesty. The tension between their faiths was bad enough, but with the traditional European view of dragons being as negative as it was, he rather anticipated a purge should Jerusalem fall.
And this was not a happy thought.

Hayate nodded to Rhian, "It is indeed normal for us to protect ourselves in harsh times. Though to be honest, the dragon had not made any movements to show he was going to be harmful...just felt like testing if he was dangerous or not. It seems he is rather not, and look at that," He got up from his kneeled position and smiled at Marduk's response, "He is very polite as well. See?" He smiled up at the dragon and then telling Rhian again, "...I have no weapons, though I suppose they would at least take me into custody. Still if all was explained I'm sure they could not hold me for too long." This was fairly untrue, what he had done was very reckless, and would probably have gotten him locked up perhaps, but being locked up could spell danger for him. He hadn't really fully thought out his actions when he did them and was just going with the flow for now.

He looked with Mordecai to the area the attack was to come from and stated, "Would that we could resolve this issue without bloodshed. As us three are, but I suppose that if the followers of Muhammad will not sway, then the army will come." He was not affiliated directly with the army, but he still had to hold to his beliefs as he hoped the drake understood. He watched the attack begin, and then Marduk's concern for them build. As he watched the walls begin to be overwhelmed, he turned to the dragon. The attack coming when they had been so talking about it was slightly unexpected.

Marduk's comments to them sounded very safe, but he couldn't help but worry about the beast's own safety. He looked to Rhian and Mordecai to see if they shared his sentiments and asked, "...hmm, what of you dragon? You do not share our beliefs. But I am sure you would be welcome at the Sepulcher as well if you seek safety." The more he considered it, the more he realized (as Marduk had) that knights taught as he was would most likely want to kill any dragons they could, Sepulcher or no. "...you will not be safe in the city though, will you?" He asked, offering for him to voice that concern if he shared it.

"I am not a child, sir." A momentary flash of irritation shot through Rhiannon but she quenched it immediately; now was not the time to argue with others and she was still young after all, it was to be expected. Bowing her head to hide her face she apologised just as alarms began to ring throughout the city.

"This.... Armed Pilgrimage is a falsehood. They claim Pilgrims were being attacked by the rulers of Jerusalem but my family easily made it into the city." Rhiannon declared, somewhat more strongly than she had intended to. Violence for aggression's sake had always upset her, a feeling only enhanced by the years of raiding by Normans upon her people's ancestral lands. In any case their conversations were interrupted by the alarms that began to ring throughout the city, announcing the beginning of an attack. It quickly became clear who had the upper hand as Crusaders swarmed onto the walls and gained a key foothold.

Rhiannon began to look around nervously, expecting a swarm of angry and murderous citizens to fall upon the group and slaughter them for their faith at any moment. She knew all too well from the raids on her village that it was the women who suffered worst and she was not unaware of her own beauty; whichever side won she'd be in danger. Refuge suggested by the dragon piqued her interest; it was away from her parents who she worried would give her up in exchange for their own safety and it would keep her out of harm's way.

"How about if he comes with us?" She suggested, the others turning to look at her. "Dragons are favoured by my people, we symbolise them a lot on our flags and family crests so we could pretend I've adopted him for now? Once the initial violence has passed he should be safe, I think..." She trailed off, aware of her young age compared to the others and how foolish her idea probably sounded to them.

Mordecai sighed deeply as he saw the siege tower roll up to the Wall of Jerusalem. Never before in his days had he seen a major battle - this would be a first. And from what he had heard, the bloodshed was not a pretty sight.

He gathered up his thick robes, adjusting his staff quickly to accommodate his change in posture. It was imperative that he must reach his wife and children before the conflict escalated further - stories of what both sides could do to innocents were commonplace and unpleasant.

Nodding a swift farewell to the three nearby, Mordecai set off at a quick pace towards his home, slipping through the dense crowd of frightened citizens that were hurrying in the opposite direction. Up ahead, he saw heavy door and windows being flung open, heads appearing at every entrance. His own home was no different - his wife, Naomi, was bustling the two children out of the doorway, clutching small packages of food and bundles of hastily-wrapped clothing.

Their eyes met as the crowd thickened - the strain, the force of the flowing crowd, was beginning to overtake the man of God. He noticed the sad look in Naomi's eyes. Mirroring the expression, he gave up the fight and allowed himself to be dragged backwards, never taking his sight off his wife until he was swallowed up by a knot of petrified youngsters.

After several seconds of frenzied scuffles, Mordecai burst out of the front row of citizens and hurried up the road towards the three, flinging aside his outer robe as he fled.
"Hurry!" he cried. "The city will soon be overrun with people!"

”I do not have that choice!” Marduk said scathingly in reply to Hayate. The dragon did not directly answer the question of his own safety, though – instead he looked away, his eyes resting on the mosque. He was listening, but somewhat distantly. Would the crusaders destroy this beautiful building? What about all the other holy places in the city? After a few long moments, Marduk folds his ears back and turns his back to the mosque. His voice nearly cracking, he glanced to the rolling clouds above and whispered a small plea. ” Ya Allah Sa'edna.”

He made no attempt to conceal that prayer, and afterwards cast a furtive look toward Rhiannon. “I… if you think it will work, I will not object. You know these folk better than I; I know only the tales I hear which make it over the sea. But I have heard very nasty things, and I’m… quite afraid of what might happen to me. I-I want to flee. To get out. But a siege is a siege; that’s the whole point, isn’t it? There isn’t any escaping.” Marduk might have continued, but at that moment the Hebrew man came running back sans his coat, shouting that they must flee. Now –that- hadn’t occurred to him; he felt it would be some time before the army reached their position. It may in fact fail to breach the inner walls! But sure enough the streets were flooding with people now; many were scrambling for shelter.

On the street corner, one man mounted a stack of crates to gain height and raised above his head a sword that gleamed in the rising sun. The knot of Arabic that spilled from his tongue would prove to work a number of peasants into a furor. Soon the crates, having conveniently been placed beforehand – this after all was not a surprise attack – were broken into and dozens of weapons spilled into the streets. Spears, mostly, maces – few hammers. Cheap wooden bucklers. The crowd scavenged these in minutes and, just barely avoiding a melee among themselves, began to move through the street to rally anybody they could find. Similar scenes played out all across Jerusalem as the city roused herself to fight. Most men, however, would be fighting with whatever they could find in the streets – there were only so many weapons to go around.

Marduk, of course, blanched when he heard what the mob was shouting. Quickly, he shoved his nose into the small of Rhiannon’s back and shoved. “You heard Mordecai. Wherever we’re going, let’s get out of here.” If she didn’t walk on her own, he would push her forward! ”But quit running!” He snapped, glaring at the man who was just rejoining them. Come to think of it, he hadn’t ever noticed the man leaving! Where had he gone? ”There’s a lot of scared people out right now, and a lot of angry ones too. The last thing we want is to start everybody panicking. We’ll be crushed.”. Well, being a dragon, he’s probably not too easy to trample. But that’s really not relevant to the point he’s trying to make. A small part of him said that maybe he should be rallying with the others. But a much bigger part of him said that spears were sharp and probably didn't feel very good.

Hayate listened to Rhia, and had been kept privy from the actualities of the attack. Though now that she mentioned it. He had not been met so much with aggression either, despite being Christian...and dressed like a knight. Though he did of course, seem to have no weapon on him. Still, the crusade may in fact have less grounds than everyone was led to believe. That was surely a shock for Hayate if true. Though for now he listened to Rhia's plan. He wasn't entirely sure of the safety of that plan. But it was probably better than anything he himself could come up with, so he agreed, "I think that sounds like the best chance he, and we have to pass through this unscathed...although...I think I had best take my armor off, or I'll become a target of those defending the city."

He took a bit of time to do so, likely the time it took the rioters to gather, after which he was subjected to being tossed about and having the armor pieces in his pack dig against his back and leg uncomfortably. He noticed the old man had disappeared in the haze of confusion surrounding the place, though he reappeared shouting at them to leave before the streets got crowded. Hayate hadn't been paying as much attention to how the streets got crowded as Marduk or Rhia probably did, but he was ready to stick with the course of action before stating, "...I assume my tunic will aid in others thinking the dragon is under control." He spoke of the fact his cross was displayed prominently, thus quite likely showing that the dragon was no danger to the crusaders...or in a more unlucky scenario, cause them to rush to aid Hayate in killing it, "...speaking of, we can't just keep calling it...him...'the dragon', do you have a name?"

While waiting for this, Hayate was working out what he would do in several scenarios, were they to come. One was if Marduk did receive attacks, would he defend the dragon? The dragon had been kind enough to him, and he would not necessarily be taking out the crusaders that attacked...but he would need his armor for that, and with no way to distinguish sides. Besides, helping a Muslim dragon would be a fair bit of heresy would it not?...Hayate worked out that if it came to that, perhaps he should hide his face and risk it. Marduk was not going to die if he could help it...but come to think of it, "Dragon, do you have anything you would like to secure? Any belongings?" He wasn't sure if that was even possible, but Mordecai's arrival had made him aware of the possibility.

"We don't have time to get belongings, the fighting will break out into the city soon." Rhiannon spoke in a strange tone, deathly calm with all her previous nervousness banished. Her eyes had glazed over as if they were looking at something far away, something no one but her could see. Suddenly she shook her head, her body relaxing and colour returned to her cheeks. She looked at the others anxiously, glancing up at the progress of the battle.

"The... spirit inside me sometimes tells prophecies. We should head straight for safety. It's never wrong." She let the dragon nudge her forwards and as they made contact a name flashed into her mind. "Mar-duk. That's your name. isn't it? She asked but was suddenly swept up by the crowd and separated from the others. Rather than struggling against the flow she headed with it, small and hardly noticeable in the panic. Brought to the Patriarch's compound by the flow she stumbled forwards only to be stopped by a guard. The man recognised her quickly, however, and let the girl in and out of the trampling crowd outside. It wasn't long before she found her parents, standing in the courtyard near a large fire around which many other Christians waited and prayed. Upon seeing her parents she called out to them but the look in their eyes when they turned made her stop.

"Rhiannon, dear, come over here. We're praying for safety." Her mother said, gesturing for the small girl to join them. Rhiannon's reluctance was obvious and this spurred her father to stride forwards and grab her by the wrist.

"The spirit knows its end is nigh, woman. Come, help me cleanse her." Together her parents began to drag Rhiannon towards the bonfire and with a sinking feeling Rhiannon saw that all the other Christians in the courtyard had been waiting for her arrival; they had decided to burn a witch to win the favour of God. She began to struggle but to no avail. It was as they neared the fire and her parents prepared to throw her onto the fire that her only chance came. Her mother faltered for a moment and Rhiannon used that moment to kick the woman. Stumbling forwards, surprised at the attack, her mother fell into the flames. The moments she was stunned was enough time for her clothes to catch fire and she began to scream. Rhiannon's father grimaced but did nothing to help his wife, instead throwing Rhiannon to the ground brutally.

"We should never have taken you in. The Father was right, you are a spirit from Annwn! You will burn for the glory of God, Ellyllon!" Rhiannon reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh and drew it just as her father grabbed hold of her neck, yanking the small girl from the ground roughly. As her air was closed off she shoved the knife upwards from her waist into her father's ribs, ironically as her mother had taught her to do against Norman raiders. She felt the life shudder out of him and dropped to the ground as his grip was lost on her neck.

She coughed, looking around at the other Christians who stared in shock at the quick sequence of events. Unfortunately for Rhiannon they recovered quickly and began to advance towards her with determined looks. Ripping the bloody knife out from her father's corpse the young Ellyllon fled the courtyard, her white cowl lost in the scuffle to let her bright red hair flow behind her.

They're the only ones I can stay with now. I have to find them.