The adventures of the English and Norwegians in Marrakech did not bring the riches of the imagination, the wild town was not Seville or Córdoba, and the legendary gold and gems were nowhere to be found, and the gold-plated Berber shields that were mistaken for were proved to be nothing more than a tanned antelope skin, and the only money worth was about a hundred Berber and Arabian horses brought from the coast of North Africa.

Count Rodrigo ordered the square mosque to be burned, and the Norwegians began to hunt down slaves, and the Christians did not care much about the rare pure-blooded camels, taking only fifteen of them, which were in fact the most precious treasure in the land.

The defenders of the city differed greatly from the Moors of Spain, and in fact most of the Moorish nobles in Al-Andalus did not adopt Berber customs, but rather styled themselves closer to Egypt, and they rarely even wore turbans, leaving only this right to imams. Outwardly, many of the Al-Andalus nobles wearing the red capa of Capa do not seem to be much different from the Christian lords of Castile, though they tend to take off this ornament before battle. In Marrakech, however, Rodrigo and Alva's servants saw pure savages, the captives dressed in plain cotton robes and covered in blue and gray veils, with dark eyes and sometimes dark skin peeking out from behind. Among the captured equipment were an octagonal waist drum with two ivory-shaped drumsticks, their swords were not very long, and they looked a bit like Saxon knives, unlike the Spaniards, these pagans had no weapons such as maces and never used crossbows.

The violence of the Norwegians almost destroyed the entire city, and the surviving inhabitants were enslaved, and with tears in their eyes, they were driven away from the smoking garden and headed for the western coast. Rodrigo was very disturbed by this arrogant behavior, and his fears soon became real, as the tribal villages along the way seemed to disappear, and another ominous event was the disappearance of several guides.

"Let's hope King Olaf will at least keep an eye on the captives." Alva lamented to his master.

"Let's let our people be on guard, those few who escaped know too much about us."

Sure enough, on the rest of the journey, the nomads began to harass the northern army, attacking day and night with the help of camel fortresses, throwing their roasted spears at them, and in one day the wounded increased by fourteen, and at last King Olaf was slightly wounded in the leg.

The army was still moving westward at this time, as Rodrigo became more and more concerned about the situation in the direction of the coast, and all indications were that the closer it was to the west, the more enemies there were.

"Let's start preparing." Count Rodrigo suggested to King Olaf, "It seems that the barbarians are not going to let us go back to the ship. ”

"If our ship is still around." The King of Norway also looked solemn, his leg wound made him not very able to wear the refined armor, and he wore only an iron helmet, and the king remembered the old story of the battle of Stamford Bridge, when his father was killed in battle and he was in charge of guarding ships and booty. "The men we left behind simply can't drive the whole fleet."

"If the fleet is destroyed, we won't see smoke on that scale." The Spaniards comforted the King of Norway.

"If any bastard wants to destroy our longship, my thousand Norwegians will surely make him pay." Olaf replied viciously, fearing that the thousand men who had been left behind had been wiped out, for they had come so close and had not heard from them.

"Tomorrow, my friend, you will be our 'Cantado'." Rodrigo turned back to Alba and said that "Cantado" was a warrior and poet of the Spaniards, who inspired the whole army with his horsemanship and voice.

"No problem." Alva gripped his mace with his backhand and replied happily.

The next day, when the coast was in sight, and the camel towns of the nomads were gone, there was a large phalanx in front of the northerners, with almost no cavalry, and the infantry in the front row were half-crouched behind tall vertical shields and spears, and in the back row of the phalanx seemed to be some light infantry, with roasted spears and long and short war bows in their hands.

"See our people?" Rodrigo asked the Ansgar Knight to his left.

"It's too far away, I can't see anything but smoke." The English knights have set their sights on Alva, who is at the forefront.

As he shouted, "Glory be to you, Christ, Lord of the universe," Alva held up his hammer and a greatly decorated staff with a Latin inscription: "Sinners shall kill themselves." Apparently unaware that this quote came from the Qur'an, Alva pounced on his horse with his legs as fast as lightning and like a bird of prey, and with the tip of his mace he lifted a shield as if he had uncovered the scales of a dragon, and then swept away, making a long arc and chasing him with a rain of javelins.

The soldiers on both sides were dazzled by this performance, and the Moorish formation, though there was a slight wave, quickly regained its composure in the sound of the order, and remained as immobile as a mountain, and the halberds were lined up, which was much more than the Christians had expected. Seeing that Alva had returned safely and that the enemy would not fight, Count Rodrigo decided to attack on his own initiative, drawing his shiny "Corada" sword, which was broad, straight and deep to the rounded point, and its name meant "unstained steel".

The northerners first fired their crossbows at the enemy, and then the Norwegians unleashed their rage, and three huge "boar heads" charged at the enemy's phalanx, and the Yars, the guards, Heshir, and Karl slashed and slashed with their spears and Danish axes, causing great confusion among the barbarians.

Rodrigo had seen the elite armies of the Spanish Taifa and the Wende pagans of the Slavic coast, and those enemies would have collapsed by this time if they had faced such a sudden attack. The Moors in front of them were obviously not the most elite warriors, their casualties were extremely large, and dozens of people were buried in a single round of impact, but the remaining warriors continued to rise, and pike darts and arrows continued to shoot from the rear, and the phalanx was actually maintained.

"Interesting." Alva looked excited, for the first time he had seen a group of unselected soldiers fighting so desperately, and the English militia might be able to do the same, but with strict discipline and intensive training.

"Are these people the Murabithi?" Rodrigo was a little unsure, the legendary warriors of the Murabithi warriors should not be of this level, although they may not be able to compare with the Norwegian guards, and they should not be much weaker. The enemy on the opposite side seemed to have very high morale, but their skills were mediocre, and their training seemed to be limited, and their phalanx was always motionless, even when their own soldiers showed gaps, they never knew how to take advantage of them, and if it was a professional army, they should take the opportunity to break through and try to tear apart the enemy formation.

"If the enemy is at this level, I think our fleet should be fine." Rodrigo commented to the Ansgar Knight.

"Look, my lord!" Alva suddenly pointed to the other side and shouted.

Nomads on camels rushed out of the array, and unlike the infantry with curved daggers, they were all armed with two swords, and as soon as they entered the fray, they began to slash and slaughter.

The Norwegians had to divide part of their forces to guard the prisoners, and a thousand more had been left on the coast to protect the ships, and the forces at the front were somewhat stretched thin. Seeing this, Rodrigo waved his steel sword lightly and elegantly pointed in the direction of the King of Norway and the camel cavalry: "My lords, for the fox of today." ”