October 1489 AD, in the southern part of the Imbilia Peninsula, in the Emirate of Granada.
The long Granada War has entered its eighth year. Continuous wars are still burning between the mountains and coasts in the southern part of the peninsula. From Malaga to Granada and then to Barcelona, the once prosperous land of Granada has been almost completely washed away by brutal killings and looting.
At this point, the farms, orchards and canals that the Moors were proud to build for more than 700 years have all been destroyed by war. In the fertile mountain valleys of the south, there are burned out villages and markets everywhere, looted workshops and mines everywhere, abandoned fields and pastures everywhere, and people wearing cross smocks and shouting can be seen everywhere. Holy war slogans, knights and retinues who charge feverishly to kill.
"Praise the Lord! After running around in the wilderness for six or seven days, I finally captured a decent Moorish prisoner!"
The sound of horse hooves came from the end of the valley. Soon, a dozen cavalrymen wearing cross armor, one man and two horses, appeared from behind the hillside with a faint smoke.
The leading knight was young, with a slightly longer face, sharp features, and an excited look on his face. He wears a set of polished and compact half-body plate armor, which is lighter than full-body plate armor and is convenient for long-distance attacks. In this era when plate armor has not yet been manufactured on a large scale, the price of this set of refined plate armor is equivalent to a dozen sets of chain mail shirts or a set of real estate in Seville on the Imbilia Peninsula.
The war horse under the knight's crotch wears a protective riding jacket engraved with the family crest. If you look closely, you will see that the image on the badge is a flying lion with two wings, the Flying Lion of St. Mark. There is no doubt that the knight's family comes from the Republic of Venice.
"God bless you! This time, King Fernando of Aragon led tens of thousands of crusaders southward. The Moors showed their decline and could only huddle in the castle... Giovanni, they can't hold on for long!"
Next to the young plate armor knight was another older plate armor knight with slightly white hair. He looked calm, observing the situation ahead while talking to the young knight. His movements are concise and effective. When galloping, he looks like he was born on horseback. He is obviously a seasoned veteran. His war horse is also covered with protective horse clothing, but it does not have the family crest.
"Lorenzo, why do you say the Moors can't hold on for long?"
The young knight Giovanni turned his head and looked at the old knight Lorenzo curiously. He winked and said with a smile.
"You have seen this battle all the way. The Moors built forts everywhere in the mountains. These stone fortresses are extremely strong and have the advantage of terrain. If I were to fight, I would just withdraw my troops. I feel that they I can guard these mountain fortresses until I die of old age!"
"The Moorish mountain fortresses are indeed well-defended. Back when Governor Enrico presided over the Fourth Crusade more than two hundred years ago, these fortresses would have taken several years to be surrounded. An eternal city like Constantinople, without the civil strife of the Byzantines and the support of Prince Alexius IV, we would never have been able to defeat it."
The old knight Lorenzo's expression remained unchanged. He first nodded in affirmation, told some old stories about the Fourth Eastern Expedition and the sack of Constantinople, and then expressed his opinion.
"It's just that times are different after all! More than 40 years ago, Constantinople was captured by the Ottomans, relying on unheard-of cannons. And two years ago, King Fernando captured Malaga Fort on the seaside. Dozens of large mortars were also dispatched. In the face of the terrifying artillery, the once solid fortress may have fallen..."
"Ha! Artillery...that kind of heavy and slow thing can only be used at sea and during sieges..."
Hearing this, the young knight Giovanni curled his lips and showed some displeasure on his face. He had seen Venetian warships equipped with artillery and the power of artillery when attacking the city. However, the glory of knights still shrouded his heart, making him instinctively dislike this kind of powerful firearm that treats everyone equally and ignores the difference between knights and militiamen.
"Witness the Lord! So what if there are artillery? King Fernando led all the troops to establish a Crusader camp and besieged the mountain city of Baza. Everyone had been besieging the mountain city of Baza for almost half a year, and the supplies could hardly keep up, but the mountain city was still stable. Very good!"
"Well, the mountain city of Basa is, after all, the strongest mountain fortress in the northeast of Granada. This city is built on a flat mountain, and the terrain is really dangerous. If you want to attack the city, you can only attack upward along the ravine mountain road. .The artillery in the camp cannot hit the towering mountain city in this terrain...However, even if artillery is not used, the Moors cannot defend this strong mountain city for long."
"Oh? Lorenzo, are you sure?"
Hearing the old knight's judgment, the young knight Giovanni raised his eyebrows. He turned his head, looked into the old knight's eyes, and asked in a deep voice.
"Witness the Lord! If the mountain city of Basa is really about to fall, why do you still suggest that I take my followers out to find any merit in this wilderness?"
"God bless! The siege of the city lasted for a long time, and the army did not have enough supplies. The Castilian army in the camp was demoralized and irritable. You have also seen that atmosphere. The Crusader knights had nothing to do, and some gambled in private , some competed everywhere, and some boasted about how many infidels they had killed and how they killed them..."
Facing the young knight's questioning, the old knight's expression remained unchanged with a smile on his lips.
"Giovanni, staying in the camp will do you no good, so why not go out and patrol. The Moors have completely shrunk, and the possibility of encountering a large group of Moorish cavalry is already very small."
"Lorenzuo, while you are saying that the mountain city of Basa is about to fall, you are also saying that the morale of the troops in the camp is poor..."
The young knight Giovanni frowned, feeling a little hard to understand.
"It's such a mess! If the siege army can't do it, how can we capture the mountain city of Basa?"
"Haha! Giovanni, to capture the fortress, on the one hand, it depends on the attacking side, on the other hand, it also depends on the guarding side."
The old knight smiled, not minding the offense of Giovanni's words. After all, from a certain perspective, Knight Giovanni will inherit his father's title and status as a councilor in the future, and can be regarded as his future lord. He stretched out his hand, pointed to the knights behind him with a smile, and said confidently to a Moorish prisoner who was immediately tied up.
"Witness the Lord! There is a village ahead, and there should be a well in it. After running for so long, we might as well rest there for half a day. Feed the horses some water and beans, eat something, and torture the captured Moorish nobles. Maybe you will believe what I say!"
"Okay! Hurry up then!"
Hearing this, the young knight Giovanni nodded. He clamped his legs between the horse's belly and galloped towards the Moorish village in the valley. More than a dozen knights and retinues followed closely. In the desolate hinterland of Granada, a puff of smoke and dust was raised, and they were far away in a moment.
