Chapter 470 - 335: The So-called Siege

The archers lying in ambush easily picked off the overeager watchtower soldiers who had rashly advanced. Belem then led a contingent of his men swiftly across the pontoon bridge, capturing the watchtower on the other side.

In a single morning, the Crusaders, previously held back by the second moat, rapidly closed the distance to Hama City and hauled their assembled Catapults and Giant Crossbows to the other side.

Now, only a single moat separated the Crusaders from the walls of Hama City. This moat was narrower and shallower than the outermost Sablan River.

At this range, the Catapults and Giant Crossbows could inflict heavy damage on the walls of Hama City.

Ahmed, who had just awoken, walked onto the city walls and was startled by the sudden advance of the battle line. Before he could even figure out what was happening, a tremendous roar filled his ears.

A bolt from a Giant Crossbow slammed into the wall in front of him. Flying stone fragments struck him in the eye socket, the pain causing him to collapse to the ground.

The Crusaders had begun their formal assault on the city.

As the roar of the Giant Crossbows faded, the Catapults began their bombardment. Heavy stone projectiles smashed violently into Hama’s city walls.

Each impact was accompanied by a deafening boom. The surface of the wall began to tremble slightly, and the sound of cracking masonry could occasionally be heard.

Some projectiles struck the wall’s defensive layers, shattering surface bricks with a dull thud but failing to inflict critical damage on the overall structure. Others soared over the ramparts and landed inside the city.

The daily lives of the citizens were abruptly shattered. As the projectiles rained down, shops lining the streets and tiles on the roofs were instantly destroyed. The walls of a few flimsier houses were struck, sending roof tiles and wooden beams crashing down and littering the ground with debris. Several citizens walking in the streets were hit by stone fragments and sustained minor injuries.

Amid the panicked crowds, some citizens tried to take refuge indoors, but many more lost their bearings in the chaos, their frantic footsteps echoing through the streets. While there were no large-scale building collapses, the damage to the houses and shops along the streets was limited, consisting mostly of localized destruction and minor harm.

The luckier citizens scrambled for cover, desperately searching for any shelter from the flying debris.

Some tried to flee into sturdier buildings for temporary shelter. The city’s structures seemed fragile under the Crusader assault, but a few places could still offer a moment of safety.

Of course, Hama City was not completely helpless. Catapults were also positioned atop the city walls to counter the enemy’s assault.

However, these Catapults failed to perform as expected. Hama City had not endured a siege in a long time, and its previous commander, Balha, had neglected the routine maintenance of its defensive armaments. He often embezzled the funds intended for upkeep, using the money instead to curry favor with the Governor’s subordinates or to finance his own debauchery. Consequently, the Catapults had fallen into severe disrepair, drastically reducing their effectiveness.

The Catapults had long been out of use, and many of their components had rotted or broken. Their design was archaic—they were traction-powered, requiring men to pull them, unlike the Crusaders’ counterweight-driven Catapults. Due to the poor maintenance, the throwing arms on Hama’s machines began to snap after just four or five volleys, injuring several operators with flying splinters and adding to the chaos of the battle.

This state of affairs not only severely weakened their counterattack but also made the garrison’s own soldiers fear their weapons. They worried that the next launch would cause an even more devastating accident.

Belem, however, did not let up the assault. During the lulls in the bombardment from the Catapults and Giant Crossbows, he dispatched a special detachment of soldiers and Knights to hurl insults and threats at the Hamah Garrison on the walls.

The soldiers and Knights had fierce expressions, but their insults were not merely verbal. Each soldier had been taught a few vulgar phrases in Arabic. These words were like sharp arrows, aimed precisely to pierce the hearts of the defending soldiers, infuriate them, and apply psychological pressure.

Their shouts cut through the din of the battlefield, landing like heavy iron hammers on the minds of the Hamah Garrison.

"You pack of Heretics, the higher you stand, the harder you’ll fall! Once we breach the gates, none of you will escape alive! Can your false god save you? I don’t think he can save your heads!"

"Go on, grab your swords and your arrows! Those things can’t protect you! You have no idea of the Power of a Holy War! When your walls crumble, not even your prayers will save a single breath in your bodies!"

"Hey, look at these fools of Heresy! You dare stand there and block our way to Jerusalem City? How bold! But I don’t think you’ll last much longer. When our iron cavalry smashes through your lines, all that will be left is a ruin of flesh and blood!"

"We’ll cut open your hearts with our swords and tear your souls apart with the Cross! Your homes are like rotting corpses, and we will gut them, only to find your stench and your death!"

"When we get into the city, who will remember you are Muslims? Only your corpses and your dead faith! Your god has abandoned you. You’re just sacrifices for the altar, reeking of blood!"

"We will make this city your final nightmare! Look at your foolishness, standing on the walls like lambs waiting for slaughter! Your friends and family will pay the price for your stupidity! I promise you, you’ll lose more than just your lives—you’ll lose your dignity and everything you hold dear!"

"Listen, you sensible citizens! After the city falls, your garrison can retreat into the castle, but what about you? You common folk will only die in agony!

They don’t care about you! Only surrender can save your lives! We’re telling you, you are the most vulnerable! Surrender! We will protect you, and at least your families won’t die in this war!"

These insults pierced the ears of the Hamah Garrison like sharp daggers. Some men began to waver, a flicker of fear in their eyes. Most of the garrison, however, held their posts, their eyes burning with anger and resolve. They gritted their teeth, endured the verbal assault, and remained focused on their defense.

A verbal attack could not instantly shatter the enemy’s defenses, but it could steadily erode their morale. In a siege, defenders must endure not only the constant bombardment of siege weapons but also immense psychological pressure. The mission of these soldiers and Knights was to use verbal provocations to incite fear and anger in the hearts of the defenders, subtly driving them into disarray.

Although the taunts and the Crusaders’ relentless bombardment had Hama’s defenders at their wit’s end, the city walls were thankfully sturdy. It would not be easy to breach Hama in a short time. Furthermore, Ahmed noticed the Crusaders didn’t seem as confident as they acted; they had so far made no move to storm the walls or raise siege ladders.

.......

At night, the Crusaders gradually halted their assault on Hama City. They left only three Catapult operators behind, who took turns launching occasional shots to keep the Hamah Garrison on edge and wear down their nerves.

Somewhere in Hama City, Eric, cloaked in a black robe, concealed his Identity.

With the Crusader army at the gates, Ahmed had forbidden any guards from leaving their posts without permission. Even using Fayed’s Identity as a guard, anyone found wandering aimlessly would be arrested and interrogated as a potential suspect. After all, the greatest fear during a siege was internal betrayal.

Eric was now at the northwest corner of Hama’s city walls. He had originally been assigned to the northeast corner, but it was unsuitable for a rendezvous due to the wide moat and its proximity to the Crusader camp.

The northwest corner where Eric now was, nestled against the mountainside and adjacent to Hama Castle, was the safest location. The castle served as the city’s final line of defense.

Typically, after the city walls were breached, soldiers would retreat into the castle to make a final, desperate stand.

Since it was the last line of defense, its security wasn’t an immediate concern, so the guards stationed here were few and far between.

Eric now stopped in the dark shadow of a buttress.

He waited there quietly, listening to the scattered sounds of the Hama night.

Singing and laughter drifted from a tavern, but he was more interested in the footsteps of the guards on the wall above. They were patrolling the section where the city wall connected to the castle’s strong defensive wall.

The footsteps approached him, stopped a few paces away, and then retreated.

Eric counted to one thousand. When the guard still hadn’t returned, he counted to one thousand again, this time in Latin. When all was silent above him, he moved to the wooden steps leading up to the ramparts.

The steps creaked under his weight, but there was no cry of alarm. Once on the wall, he crouched by a tall castle tower, his black robe nearly invisible in the shadows of the waning moon. He looked down the length of the wall as it stretched along the ridge before curving toward the West Gate, where the faint red glow of a bonfire burned.

There were no patrolling soldiers in sight.

’They must be warming themselves by the gate,’ Eric guessed.

He looked up but saw no one on the castle’s defensive walls, nor any movement within two dimly lit arrow slits where lanterns burned.

He had seen three armored men in the crowded tavern, and likely others he hadn’t spotted. ’The soldiers here must be either drinking or sleeping,’ he surmised.

’It’s much more relaxed here than for the soldiers in other sectors.’

So he lifted his black robe and untied the rope coiled around his waist.

The rope, made of hemp cord stiffened with glue, was long enough to loop around one of the wall’s crenellations and drop to the steep ground below.

He paused for a moment, staring down.

The castle was built on a steep cliff, with the moat flowing around its base. He could hear the water hissing as it passed over a weir.

Eric could see nothing but a flash of moonlight on a pool of water.

A gust of wind sent a chill through him. He stepped back into the shadows of the moon and pulled his hood over his face.

The guard on duty reappeared. He only walked halfway along the wall before stopping to lean against the parapet for a moment, then turned and headed back toward the West Gate.

After a moment, a soft whistle sounded—uneven and toneless, like a bird call. Eric returned to the rope and pulled it up.

Another rope had been attached to the end. He fastened this new, sturdier line to the stone parapet.

"It’s secure," Eric called down softly in French, then heard the scrape of a man’s boots against the wall as he began to climb the rope.