Chapter 156: Breaking Through (5)

The one who caught up with Cesar was not the previous Turks.

Although these Turks were assimilated by the Saracens in faith and political systems, their fighting methods still followed the experience and laws inherited from their ancestors, which was the knowledge they learned from the wild beasts and prey on the grasslands.

Although there were a total of more than 2,000 people chasing Cesar, they did not act together but, after simple consultation, divided into three teams. The first team would strive to chase these fleeing ministers and Christians on the first day, the second team would follow behind at a relatively gentle speed, and the third team would do the same. When the first team felt exhausted, they would stop to rest, let the second team quickly take over, and when the second team also began to feel tired, it would be the third team's turn to exert effort.

If someone lived on the grasslands and often saw wolf packs hunting, they would find that the strategy adopted by the wolf pack was almost the same, or rather, the wolf pack was the earliest enlightenment teacher for the Turks. Hunters on the grasslands had long been accustomed to it—the first tracker only needed to ensure that the prey was not lost, and then could slow down, adjust their breathing, restore their physical strength, and leave the chasing to other companions.

The wolf pack would take turns attacking, and they were the same. Their enemies, however, could only run with all their might without stopping for a moment. It was foreseeable that when any one of these three teams caught up with Cesar and the others, the Turks, even if they couldn't be said to be full of energy and radiant, would be much stronger than these Christian knights who had been galloping for several days and nights in a row.

And as long as they bit the enemy, an endless stream of companions would come to reinforce them, which made every Turk full of confidence. Although they also lost some manpower in the previous few encounters, the remaining number could still bring overwhelming threats and despair to the enemy.

The leader of the Turks had already seen those knights. They had finished lining up, and the raised flag was as red as blood, with a Jerusalem cross on the corner. The leading knight was wearing silver-plated chainmail, a nasal helmet, and a wide surcoat. The front and back of the surcoat also had a huge Jerusalem cross, as well as his mount—that magnificent Arabian horse, snow-white all over, with only a little fur on its forehead being black, forming the shape of a star.

The First Lady offered a reward of 1,000 gold coins—as long as someone could take the head of this Christian knight.

The leader of the Turks subconsciously licked his lips while squinting his eyes. He found that the other party was facing the sun. Unfortunately, this kind of opportunistic approach was of no use to the Turks. He shook his head in his heart, then pointed at the young man and shouted to his companions in Turkish, "This person is to be left to me! His head must be taken by me!"

Other Turks let out a series of shouts to express their agreement, and then they raised their shoulders, lowered their heads, drove their horses, and ran toward the battlefield.

The knights on the opposite side did not show the same eagerness as the Turks. Only a part of the knights moved forward quickly, while the other knights remained in place. The Turks did not understand why they would make such a gesture, but for them, being able to encounter such a slow enemy could not be better.

The Turks' fighting style was also more similar to a wolf pack than a lion or a tiger. They rarely charged directly into the enemy's camp to tear their throats with fangs and claws. They were like a wolf pack surrounding a flock of sheep, using superb riding and shooting techniques to circle around the Christian knights and shoot arrows at them.

People always had a wrong view of the Turks' arrows, which was that they did not have much power. This view might have been influenced by the plate armor that would only appear more than a hundred years later.

In front of heavy plate armor, arrows were indeed difficult to achieve brilliant results. But at this time, most people were still wearing chainmail or leather armor. These two could certainly resist part of the arrow's power, but if they encountered an archer who had both strength and skill, the knight would also be in danger of his life.

Cesar had heard of an unfortunate knight who was hit by an arrow—the arrow accurately hit his thigh, perhaps just a small blank space that the chainmail failed to protect—this arrow directly pierced his left leg, then the horse, and the arrowhead was deeply embedded in the leg on the other side.

It could be said that this arrow "connected" him and his mount together. This sounded unbelievable, but it had indeed happened.

And the Turks had been fighting the Crusaders for so many years that they already had tactics to deal with them—when the knights charged at them, they would immediately retreat. Few knights could catch up with them, and while retreating, they could still shoot arrows at the enemy. If the knights were angered and, regardless of anything else, insisted on chasing them, they would be far away from their camp, far away from their supplies and baggage.

And if they really left the main army and were at a disadvantage in numbers, the Turks would turn around and launch an attack on those exhausted people and horses.

Generally speaking, Turks would carry two or three types of weapons: bows and arrows carried on their backs, scimitars or spears slung at their waists, and the method they adopted was still long-range shooting first, then close combat.

Therefore, when Cesar and the knights rushed at them, these Turks were not panicked, just slightly advancing the time of retreat. As usual, the Turks quickly pulled away from the knights and soon ran out of sight.

The knights' attack was grand but futile. The remaining Turks let out sharp mocking laughter. They spurred their horses, began to gallop around the knights who stayed in place, and raised their longbows. But at this moment, those knights made an amazing move: they threw large pieces of silk under their feet, nearby, and far away one after another.

These silks were the thank-you gifts given to Cesar by the Lady and the princes. When leaving, Cesar did not forget to bring them. At that time, Geoffrey thought he had finally reached the age of being fond of hoarding wealth, but he used them here without hesitation.

These silks, just as they were thrown out by the knights, refracted brilliant light in the sun, and then fell on the scorched yellow sand like flowers and clouds, looking even more like gold and silver flowing under the hooves.

Whether it was the leader or the soldiers, the Turks' first thought was that these Christians wanted to use silk to redeem themselves. But unfortunately, everyone's head had a price, and as long as they killed them, these things could still belong to them. But even they themselves didn't notice—the rhythm had been disrupted.

Turks could pull the reins, make the horse stand, and then trample an infant, but they couldn't convince themselves to treat these soft and gorgeous fabrics so cruelly. This was something equivalent to gold. Even when the Emperor and the King negotiated, they would list silk robes as one of the war reparations.

Moreover, the silk here were all the beloved items of Sultan Nur ad-Din's concubines. Each piece was soft, delicate, gorgeous, and ingenious enough. But the Christian knights would not have any pity for things they were unwilling to trample on.

Seeing that Cesar's method worked, they let out a cheer in their hearts. They rode their horses over these silks, instantly beheading a large group of Turkish soldiers who were still hesitating whether to dismount to pick them up or kill these Christians first—ridiculously, even so, there were still Turks who instinctively avoided the silk when dodging.

"Don't be stupid, this is a trap of the Christians!" a Turkish soldier shouted. He did not have a low status in this team, wearing solid lamellar armor. Under his reminder, some Turks did gather together. They raised their bows and arrows, searching for targets, but found that a large number of bright flashes were jumping in front of them.

The Christian knights pulled down the cloaks that originally covered them, and blinding light suddenly burst out from them—the light stung their eyes so they couldn't open them, and the bows and arrows in their hands lost their accuracy. The bowstrings rang, but the arrows failed to cause any damage to these knights. When a Turkish soldier was slashed under his horse, he realized that what was shining on the knights' chainmail was actually fragments of copper mirrors—although he couldn't be sure.

These were indeed copper mirrors. In Sultan Nur ad-Din's harem, the least lacking things were these mirrors polished to be exceptionally bright. They were even sold as one of Aleppo's precious commodities. These mirrors were also placed in boxes as gifts. And as early as when the knights were resting, Cesar hired some people to knock all these copper mirrors into fragments and embed them in the knights' chainmail.

Although the method was very rough—just simply punched a hole, and then fixed with metal wire or cowhide rope.

And these fragments did indeed play a role beyond imagination—the human conditioned reflex to strong light is something that no training or order can restrain. And when the Turkish soldiers couldn't help but turn their heads, their lives came to an end.

The bows and arrows, along with their owners, fell to the ground one after another, stirring up patches of sand and dust.

A Turk shouted to the leader. He and the Turks around him were running toward them, but after the distance closed, he only saw a look of fear on that face—did the leader shake off those knights?

No.

When the leader was pierced by a spear and flew into the air, he saw that special black star. That head worth 1,000 gold coins was passing under him. The other party looked up at him expressionlessly, then looked away, not even showing a smile. Was he not worth it?

His head might not be worth 1,000 gold coins, but 100 was at least worth it.

The leader fell to the ground. He opened his mouth, wanting to curse this hateful Christian knight—May Allah bless you, you will soon follow me—every word he said, a large mouthful of pink thick liquid mixed with blood clots overflowed from his mouth.

He was not wrong. Although he couldn't see it, the subsequent two teams were rapidly approaching here. Although these Christian knights performed very calmly and fiercely, the leader did not think they had much strength left to deal with the successive battles.

Moreover, there were more people in those two teams who had received the prophet's revelation than their team. The other side's barrier had been broken, and they would inevitably be vulnerable in front of those sharper bows and arrows.

He thought so, dying with full unwillingness. And just as he expected, Cesar and his knights' breathing had not yet calmed down when they felt that the air and the earth were vaguely vibrating. This was the resonance caused by countless horse hooves stepping on the ground. Geoffrey's face changed instantly.

The knights moved toward Cesar silently and tacitly. Cesar looked around. The knights had not suffered any losses, although some of them were already tottering, and the squires and armed attendants had suffered not small losses, but this was also a helpless thing. After all, this was war, not child's play.

He didn't think much anymore, calmed his heart, and prayed to the existence that had always been watching him in the dark. Once again, holy light like moonlight and silver shrouded everyone. This time, even the squires and armed attendants could feel the endless favor and grace transmitted from Cesar to them. They shed tears of excitement, feeling that if they could die at this moment, it would be completely worth it.

Only Geoffrey showed worry. He was not only the chosen one but had also fought side by side with someone who had been deeply favored for many years. Excessive begging for holy grace would bring great exhaustion to the person concerned—whether physically or mentally.

Some people would fall to the ground without warning after the war and die immediately; others would be plagued by illness and bedridden after this; even if he was lucky enough not to repeat the mistakes of the above two, he would be unable to obtain favor again for a long time afterward, and sometimes it would even appear as if he had never been chosen.

Now Cesar was undoubtedly overdrawing, but he had no way to stop him. He knew what kind of person Cesar was. Even if he didn't allow him to do this and could stop him, the death of these people would make Cesar suffer for the rest of his years, and he might even die of depression because of it.

At this moment, the two teams hidden behind the rolling sand and dust had already revealed their true colors.

One of the teams was, of course, those Turks wearing fur. They came aggressively, roaring and waving knives and swords while still far away, but they did not raise any flags; the other army was even more strange. They moved silently, a dark mass. Although they raised a flag, even the battle-hardened Geoffrey could not find any similar traces in his memory.

It was a huge black flag, and in the center of the flag, a white eagle was flying.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 157 =====