The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 121 Battle of Beka Valley

When the deafening roar of tumbling rocks echoed from the depths of the valley, followed by the dying neighs of warhorses and the brief, desperate cries of the Templar Knights, Reynald knew that everything was beyond saving.

"A bunch of stubborn mules blinded by honor!" Reinald spat.

He forced himself to calm down and scanned the more imminent threat before him.

The deafening sound of trampling came from the ridge where only the Sudanese banner had been erected but no one was in sight.

Led by the Sultan's banner, five hundred elite Mamluks and a thousand Ayyubid heavy infantry phalanxes, under the cover of Turkmen horse archers, were pressing toward Reinald's position.

"Crossbowmen, retreat fifty paces and form a circular defensive formation," Reinald immediately ordered. "Knights, dismount and use your horses as cover. We await the signal from the central command."

"Aren't we waiting for the Grand Master?" one of the Templar Knights, who was injured and had not followed the Grand Master in the charge, asked in a trembling voice.

Reinald glared at him, a look that made the knight swallow back the rest of his words.

"Listen," Reinald pointed to the valley from which the agonizing screams continued, "this is the path they chose, and they will walk it themselves."

Reinald turned to face the crossbowmen and the dismounted Transjordanian knights, his sword, Shatiyon, pointed at the enemy ranks: "All troops, heed my command!"

"Hold your ground!" Reinald galloped back and forth in front of the slightly flustered crossbowmen, his roar drowning out the heavy footsteps of the approaching enemy. "Look closely! Those are Saladin's elite Mamluks! They're following behind the heavy infantry, waiting to tear open our defenses! Crossbowmen, listen to my command: without my order, don't release an arrow even if it's right in your eye! Once they're within a hundred paces, I want you all dead with a single shot!"

The Mamluks did not charge rashly, but instead followed slowly behind the heavy infantry phalanx on both flanks.

The heavy infantry advanced one hundred and fifty paces.

One hundred and twenty steps.

One hundred steps!

"put!"

The first volley of crossbow bolts whistled out, the heavy bolts striking the iron-clad round shields with a dull thud, but a dozen or so still managed to penetrate the shields or gaps in the armor.

A dozen or so Ayub heavy infantrymen groaned and fell to the ground, causing a slight disruption in their formation.

"Second team, fire!"

The Ayub infantry phalanx slowed noticeably. For every ten paces they advanced, several men fell, struck by arrows, and they couldn't even reach the crossbowmen's positions.

"Third team, fire! First team, get ready!"

Under Reinald's almost cruelly calm command, this lightly armed crossbowmen line withstood the overwhelming pressure of an enemy force several times its size, remaining as solid as a rock.

Meanwhile, on a small hill overlooking the battlefield ahead, Guy was facing another difficult choice.

He frowned as he listened to the panting report from the messenger sent by Reinald.

The scouts of the central army have just reported seeing black smoke rising from the entrance of the valley, and seeing the white robes of the Templar Knights appear and disappear sporadically in the smoke and dust.

"Gerald..." Roger, Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller beside him, sighed softly with sympathy.

"It's beyond saving." Guy took a deep breath, suppressing his panic and guilt towards the Templars, and his tone became decisive. "The valley is a dead end. A direct assault will only drown more people."

His gaze swept over the various expressions of the lords around him: "Grand Master Roger, please move the Hospitallers to the left flank of the vanguard immediately to fill the defensive zone left by the Knights Templar. Baron Balian, your Ibelin Knights will fill the gap on the right flank. The entire army will change formation, with the vanguard and center lines converging to form a continuous defensive line!"

The orders were relayed through the ranks via flags. The central army began a slow and orderly reorganization, withdrawing the vanguard and linking it with the central army to form a more solid defensive formation.

"Chief of the Stables!" Another messenger rushed in. "The Duke requests permission; the enemy's offensive is too fierce, and casualties are rising. Should we retreat and rejoin the central army?"

"Tell him to hold firm and await reinforcements," Guy said. "Then order all lords to move forward a hundred paces, forming a crescent formation to pin down Reynald's forces."

"You want to take the initiative?" Hugues de Saint-Omega asked in surprise.

"Saladin wants us to be in chaos." Guy gripped the hilt of his sword. "Then we'll show him that the army of the Kingdom of Jerusalem can be organized even in chaos."

His gaze swept over the assembled generals: "Gentlemen, it is truly unfortunate that Grand Master Gerald has been ambushed and surrounded. But this is not a reason for us to waver, but rather a driving force for our continued fighting. We hold our position on the banks of the Litani River, with ample water supplies, and grain from Bedford and Galilee can be continuously transported to us. Saladin, on the other hand, finds it easy to descend the mountain but difficult to ascend it. If he launches a full-scale attack, we will be the ones with the advantage!"

This seemed like a very clever way of putting it, and even Guy himself was somewhat surprised.

But he was pleased to see that the doubts and wavering in the eyes of the lords were gradually replaced by a resolute acceptance.

On the eastern ridge, Saladin watched the Frankish formation adjust, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes.

"Guy is stronger than I imagined," he told Farouk. "Despite losing the elite of the vanguard, the central army not only did not retreat, but instead pressed forward to support the main force. He seems unwilling to give up; the Franks' fighting spirit remains."

Farouk had just returned from the valley, and the Templars were already trapped. He handed over command to an emir and returned to discuss the battle with his uncle.

He sincerely felt that learning from his uncle for a day was better than fighting half a lifetime of pointless battles.

"Should we launch a full-scale attack?" Farouk asked.

"No," Saladin shook his head. "How many are trapped in the valley?"

"Almost all of the Templar Knights, more than four hundred people."

"Enough." Saladin looked towards the western hillside. "I have ordered the Turkmen to continue harassing the flanks on the main battlefield fighting the Frankish vanguard, but not to engage in combat. The main Mamluk force is arrayed, poised to attack."

"Just a feint?"

"It's about applying pressure," Saladin corrected. "I want Guy and Reynald to focus all their energy on defense, leaving them no time for anything else. That way..." He paused, "they'll be able to accept a dignified victory."

"Victory?" Farouk asked, puzzled. "But what about the Templars..."

Saladin ordered Farouk, "Lift the siege of the Templars in a quarter of an hour and let the Templars who are still able to move leave."

"Wait, Uncle..." Farouk was completely baffled. "I'm getting more and more confused. I don't understand!"

"The purpose of war is not to kill all the enemies," Saladin patiently explained. "Today I have achieved three objectives: first, to severely damage the Knights Templar; second, to test Guy's military style, which is conservative and rule-bound; and third, to give that madman Reynald a taste of his own medicine, as compensation for the massacre of so many of my caravans."

He pointed to the battlefield: "Now, I need to give them a reason to retreat, a reason that appears to be a reason to repel our army. So the Mamluks will feign an attack and then be forced to retreat. Guy will claim that he withstood my main attack; Reynald will kill enough Turkmen and Seljuk Turkic slaves in the rearguard to vent his anger, a bunch of mercenaries and low-ranking slaves, their deaths are not worth mentioning; and we will return to Damascus with wounded and immobile Templar prisoners."

Will they believe it?

"They need to believe," Saladin said with a meaningful smile. "Guy needs to consolidate his position with military achievements, Reinald only wants to kill infidels, and I need time to digest the spoils and continue to put pressure on Aleppo in the north. This is the best outcome for all three parties."

He patted his nephew on the shoulder: "Remember, the most skillful victory is one that makes your opponent feel like they've won."