I Became The King Of Crusaders [EN]: Chapter 185

< 185. The Great Escape from Damascus (5) >

“They’re coming!”

“Everyone, maintain formation! Keep them away from the refugees!”

The sounds of hooves and camels grew louder.

Then came a rain of arrows.

“Dismount! Bring the horses to the center and use them as shields!”

The knights and squires dismounted, forming a protective ring around the refugees, clad in their chainmail.

They trudged onward, enduring the arrow fire. Half a day passed, then a full day.

As night fell, the Sea Warriors brazenly lit fires nearby and sang taunting songs.

This bizarre standoff continued into the next day, with one side launching arrows from a distance and the other seemingly ignoring them, pressing on.

“Lord Marshal! Please, grant us permission to charge! It’s been days!”

“Lord Wade is right! Returning to Jerusalem like this will only bring ridicule!”

“We’ll be branded as cowards for being afraid of these bandits if we don’t retaliate. Is that what you want?”

The Marshal frowned, his frustration growing with each complaint from his subordinate knights.

He was frustrated, too.

“We swore an oath to follow King Baldwin’s command while we are in Outremer [the Crusader States]. Are you suggesting we break that oath now?”

“Baldwin clearly doesn’t want to share the glory with us English knights! Why else would he forbid a charge?”

“That’s right!”

The English and Jagwi knights seethed with anger. Arrows peppered their chainmail, making them look like armored hedgehogs.

The Marshal sighed.

“Calm yourselves. I will send a messenger to King Baldwin to request permission for a charge.”

Meanwhile, the Turkic horse archers rode out to engage the Sea Warriors. They exchanged arrows from a distance, carefully avoiding close combat.

The English knights watched, cursing under their breath.

“What cowards! How can they hope to win fighting like such craven skirmishers?”

Just then, the messenger returned with Baldwin’s reply.

[Hold your position]

Upon hearing the message, several knights and lords finally lost their composure.

“There’s no doubt now! King Baldwin is deliberately slighting the courage of us Englishmen!”

At that moment, a shout rang out from the ranks.

“Deus Vult! [God wills it!]”

Two English knights spurred their horses and charged out of the formation. Seeing this, other knights followed suit, as if a dam had broken.

The thunder of hooves vibrated through the ground.

“Deus Vult! For God and the Holy City!”

The Marshal quickly mounted his own horse.

Once a charge began, it was nearly impossible to halt.

He glanced back.

The Jerusalem knights remained steadfast, holding their ground.

There was no reaction, no support offered. The English knights roared with renewed fury.

“We came to defend the Holy City, so why are they just standing there!”

“Leave them be! The glory of defeating the Saracens will be ours!”

But the Marshal had a growing sense of unease.

“They’re running away.”

The enemies who had been harassing them with arrows began to scatter, as if the charge was the signal they’d been waiting for.

Some even tumbled from their saddles, becoming easy targets for the charging knights.

Seeing this, the English knights pressed their attack with even greater zeal.

“Catch those Saracens!”

But no matter how hard they urged their horses, the distance between them and the fleeing horse archers remained constant. Instead, the enemies twisted in their saddles, drawing their bows.

The horses, struck by arrows, faltered and fell, instantly turning the knights into infantry.

“It’s a trap to lure us in! Retreat! Gather the wounded and regroup!”

The Marshal shouted, but his warning came too late. The enemies wheeled around and charged, unleashing a fresh volley of arrows.

“Damn it!”

The Marshal felt a sharp pain as his body lurched to the side, and he tumbled from his horse. Dazed, he realized an arrow had pierced the horse’s rear.

Blood streamed not only from the horse’s wound but also from other parts of its body.

“…I’m sorry, Magna.”

Drawing his dagger, he swiftly ended the horse’s suffering. The animal shuddered and collapsed.

Blood flowed out, staining the sand a dark crimson.

Standing alone, the Marshal gripped his longsword.

He raised his shield to deflect the incoming arrows.

“Come on, you Saracen bastards!”

But the arrows stopped.

“What in the world…?”

Lowering his shield, he was met with an unexpected sight. The Sea Warriors had changed direction once more and were fleeing in earnest.

The Marshal stood there, bewildered.

“Lord Marshal, are you alright?”

A shout came from behind. A familiar voice.

It was the man he had fought before.

“Lord Garnier!”

“Sorry for the delay. I had to wait for the opportune moment.”

Garnier replied, leading a string of fresh horses. He offered new mounts to the dismounted knights.

Other Jerusalem knights rode past, pursuing the retreating enemy.

The white cloaks of the Templars billowed in the wind.

“You could have come sooner. From the beginning…”

The Marshal trailed off.

He understood now why the Jerusalem knights had held back.

If they had charged alongside the English, they would have been caught in the same deadly counterattack.

“You were expecting us to disobey orders and charge?”

“I anticipated the possibility. But I hoped it wouldn’t happen.”

The Marshal mounted the horse Garnier offered. He started to speak, then hesitated.

The Jerusalem knights had repeatedly emphasized the importance of maintaining formation.

It was the English knights who had broken ranks. They had no right to complain.

“Are you injured?”

“Just a little dent in my pride.”

“That’s fortunate. You’ll recover from that soon enough.”

Garnier said with a smile.

They exchanged a nod and rode forward.

* * *

“It’s King Baldwin!”

“Everyone, maintain formation!”

I approached the lines of refugees and removed my helmet. Showing them my face would help reassure them.

Beyond them, the Jerusalem knights continued to harry the fleeing enemy.

The sounds of hooves and clashing steel echoed in the distance.

Aig muttered, as if to himself.

“Just as His Majesty predicted, they couldn’t resist the urge to charge…”

“They probably didn’t fully grasp my orders.”

I shrugged.

Medieval European battles often followed a predictable pattern.

First, the archers would exchange fire, then the knights would engage in a head-on clash, and finally, the infantry would enter the fray.

The horse archer tactics favored in the Middle East were unfamiliar to them.

“It must have been frustrating to simply stand there and be targeted.”

I had issued my orders in advance, anticipating that the European knights would be tempted to charge.

‘Do not charge headlong, but wait and strike when the enemy commits to a counterattack.’

The Sea Tribes were primarily focused on raiding the refugees. Knowing where they would strike made it easier to plan a counter.

I relied on my intuition, waiting until the enemy fully committed to their attack.

‘Maintaining control until the decisive moment is paramount.’

The Jerusalem knights followed my instructions to the letter, showing remarkable restraint. Even the Teutonic Knights and the Knights of St. Thomas held their ground.

“I honestly expected at least one of them to join the charge.”

“Anyone who serves under His Majesty, even for a short time, learns a valuable lesson.”

Aig said with a knowing smile.

“That if you follow His Majesty’s orders, you are more likely to win. And that the opposite course invariably leads to defeat, doesn’t it?”

“It’s hard to always live up to such expectations.”

I clapped Aig on the shoulder and stepped forward. Now, the English and Jagwi knights would be more inclined to heed my commands.

All of our knights were equipped with chainmail, so casualties should be relatively light.

Of course, it would have been ideal to avoid any losses at all…

‘But this was a lesson that needed to be learned.’

The knights from Europe and Ethiopia needed to understand the nuances of Crusader warfare.

Today’s events would hopefully prevent greater losses in the future.

Lost in thought, I was startled by a group of men who stood up and shouted.

“Your Majesty! If you permit us, we will join the fight!”

“Yes! Give us weapons, and we will fight!”

The refugees from Damascus.

A surprising number of men were volunteering to fight.

“Your duty is to protect your families here. The fighting will be over soon anyway.”

I looked at them, one by one.

They had found a newfound resolve during their harrowing escape from Damascus.

“You have already shown great courage.”

About 30 minutes later, Garnier and the knights returned from the pursuit, leading captured horses and camels.

“They’ve scattered in all directions. We’ve dispatched a pursuit party, so it will be difficult for them to regroup.”

“Did the Sea Warriors abandon all those?”

I gestured towards the camels.

From what I could see, there were easily over a hundred.

The camels chewed their cud with an air of indifference, seemingly unconcerned by the recent battle.

“Yes, quite a few. There are also many more scattered nearby.”

“I needed camels anyway…”

I couldn’t help but smile.

I never expected them to fall into my lap like this.

“Jernal will be pleased to hear this.”

No, perhaps he’ll be even more exasperated. I smiled and waved, signaling for a gathering.

“Form a pursuit party to ensure the enemy remains scattered and unable to regroup.”

I said.

“We need to show them what we’re truly capable of this time.”

* * *

Jerusalem Royal Palace

“Isn’t it time you rested, Theodora?”

Sibylla asked, her voice filled with concern. She and Patriarch Heraclius stood before Theodora.

“If you continue to work at this pace, your health will suffer. It will also be detrimental to the baby.”

“I am the only one who can effectively manage this situation, Mother.”

Theodora replied with a tired smile.

“We can’t simply allow thousands of people to flood into Jerusalem without a plan. We need to distribute them to the newly established settlements…”

She said, flipping through the stacks of papers on her desk. The pages were covered in meticulous notes.

Food, shelter, and a myriad of other essential supplies.

We had to secure the necessary resources before the refugees from Damascus arrived.

“It’s fortunate that we have the support of Constantinople. We can address the most pressing needs with the supplies we receive from them.”

“Our church will also contribute all the resources at its disposal.”

Patriarch Heraclius said. He cleared his throat and added.

“We cannot turn our backs on fellow Christians, especially when church unification is progressing so well.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency.”

“Your Majesty, please, take some rest. The future of the kingdom rests on your well-being.”

“…”

Instead of responding, Theodora gazed down at her stomach.

She and her unborn child were potent symbols of the alliance between Jerusalem and Constantinople.

Sibylla gently placed her hand on Theodora’s shoulder.

“I and the other officials will handle the routine tasks. You don’t need to overexert yourself.”

She added.

“You must remember that the future of the Kingdom of Jerusalem resides within you, as the Patriarch so eloquently stated.”

“…I understand, Mother.”

As Theodora prepared to rise from her chair, a soldier entered the room.

He knelt and announced.

“His Majesty the King has sent a message.”

“Speak.”

“The army led by His Majesty has achieved a decisive victory against the Sea Tribes.”

The soldier reported.

“Furthermore, he requests additional space and food to accommodate two to three hundred camels…”

“Hundreds of camels?”

Sibylla, Theodora, and Heraclius exchanged surprised glances.

A moment of silence hung in the air, then Theodora burst into laughter.

Already, her mind was racing, calculating the logistics and resources required.

“It seems I’ll have to postpone my rest a little longer.”