novelSusiti Chapter 34 The Concept of Crossbowmen
Chapter 34 The Concept of Crossbowmen
The heavy doors of the council chamber closed behind him, shutting out all outside noise. Lyon removed his silver mask, took a deep breath, and turned to walk toward the king's true residence—the more private bedroom behind the council chamber.
He pushed open the door, and the light inside was even dimmer than in the council chamber. Baldwin was not lying on the bed, but was quietly leaning against the table covered with maps, his body slightly reclined, like a frozen statue, with only the faint rise and fall of his chest proving his existence.
"Your Majesty?" Lyon called out softly, his footsteps light.
"No need to call me, Leon. I'm just thinking." Baldwin remained in his original posture, his voice slow and deep, as if coming from a great distance. "I'm just shocked... Are the scholars of Constantinople all possessing such astonishing wisdom? Or is it...?"
He abruptly sat bolt upright, his movement so swift it stirred a breeze. The cold, icy eyes on his mask locked onto Leon instantly, his voice carrying an almost piercing force: "You are not Leon. You are Satan, the devil possessing this child!"
Lyon felt as if his blood had frozen instantly, standing there motionless, his face turning deathly pale. Had the transmigrator's greatest secret been so inexplicably revealed?
However, the expected thunderous rage did not materialize. Baldwin stared at his helpless expression and suddenly let out a low, weak, yet undisguised chuckle.
"Heh...look at your expression," he said with a hint of mockery, "if I said you were Satan, would you really think you were?"
The laughter abruptly ceased, his tone turning serious and heavy once more, his fingers unconsciously tracing the tabletop: "After I was diagnosed with leprosy, the kingdom's nobles looked at me as if I were a monster abandoned by God, possessed by Satan." He paused, his gaze seemingly piercing through the mask, landing on a distant past. "But even if it is Satan, so what? As long as Saladin is defeated, and the kingdom and the Holy Land are preserved, what does it matter if this mutilated body is sacrificed to Satan?"
Lyon's tense shoulders finally relaxed, and he let out a long sigh. Composing himself, he asked a crucial question: "Does Your Majesty believe...we can truly 'defeat' Saladin?"
Baldwin paused for a moment upon hearing this, then shook his head self-deprecatingly: "Looks like I used the wrong words." He propped himself up on the table, adjusted his posture, and spoke with a deep weariness and clarity in his voice: "Ever since the Battle of Montgisa, Saladin has become as cautious as a fox in the desert. He almost never engages my main force in direct combat, but instead constantly moves between the castles on the kingdom's borders, playing the 'besieging the point and attacking the reinforcements' trick."
His voice grew lower, filled with unyielding worry: "Moreover, Saladin today is no longer the warlord still bound by his former master. Free from shackles, he is now practically the overlord of all Muslims, uniting what was once a disorganized force into a cohesive whole." He raised his hand, tapping lightly on the table with his linen-wrapped fingers, as if counting an imaginary army. "I estimate he currently has at least five thousand elite Mamluks stationed in Cairo. And his main force… is concentrated in Damascus, a full twenty thousand soldiers. And what about us?"
He let out a barely audible sigh: "All we can rely on are a little over a thousand knights and more than ten thousand poorly equipped infantrymen whose morale fluctuates."
"What about the crossbowmen?" Lyon immediately seized on this point and pressed on, "Your Majesty, doesn't the kingdom still have quite a few crossbowmen?"
"Crossbowmen?" Baldwin shook his head, a hint of helplessness in his voice. "They're good at defending cities, but on open battlefields, against Saladin's swift and agile horse archers, their cumbersome wooden crossbows are practically useless. Before the arrows even reach them, the archers are already out of range. Our crossbowmen have absolutely no advantage in open field battles."
"However, there are exceptions." He added, as if remembering something, "The kingdom employs some mercenaries from Genoa. These guys are different; they can erect tall shield walls and reliably exchange fire with the Saracens. Even if they run out of crossbow bolts, or enemy cavalry charge at them, they can draw their swords and fight back."
Lyon frowned, fragments of history flashing through his mind. Saladin's military tactics were indeed as Baldwin had described: cunning and cautious, never engaging in decisive battles lightly, but rather constantly wearing down his forces through maneuvering and harassment... Historically, after the peace treaty ended, Saladin attacked the kingdom's military fortresses in Galilee and Beitshean, then briefly retreated to Damascus to regroup. The following month, he launched an attack from the sea on the coastal city of Beirut, only ceasing the siege when Baldwin arrived with reinforcements, and finally withdrew.
Thinking of this, Lyon asked Baldwin, "Your Majesty, what equipment are the kingdom's crossbowmen currently using, and what is the quality of their personnel?"
Baldwin thought for a moment and shook his head: "Not very good. Most of them still have wooden crossbow arms, and only a very few use composite bow arms. Only those with plenty of spare money, like the Knights and Reynald, are willing to upgrade their crossbowmen. Not to mention the garrisons of those small castles, their strength is really limited and they can't handle the Saracens' arrow rain at all."
Lyon paced back and forth, lost in thought. In the game, the only way for the Leper King to defeat Saladin was to maximize his crossbowmen's numbers and use the double title bonus to compete with Saladin's superior strength of over eighty. However, reality is different from the game; real crossbowmen don't have such terrifying stats, and even exchanging fire with Saladin's archers is a pipe dream. So, is it possible to change this at its root? By upgrading the crossbow's design, improving its craftsmanship, or even innovating tactics, could the kingdom's defensive and field battle disadvantages be reversed?
His thoughts raced. A winch crossbow that only appeared in the 13th century? No, its structure was too complex. With the kingdom's current artisan system, it was impossible to mass-produce it on a large scale. Moreover, its rate of fire was too slow, destined to be used only for defending cities.
The Divine Arm Crossbow? Lyon has always held a deep fascination with this powerful weapon from the Song Dynasty. However, Song Dynasty records of the Divine Arm Crossbow are always vague and contradictory. The *Dream Pool Essays* records: "During the Xining era, Li Ding presented a crossbow with a side-mounted frame, resembling a bow but with a stirrup. The stirrup was used to hold the crossbow in place, allowing it to be drawn. It could shoot three hundred paces and penetrate heavy armor, called the 'Divine Arm Bow,' the most powerful weapon." One pace is approximately 1.5 meters; three hundred paces is clearly an exaggeration. Shen Kuo must have been talking nonsense.
However, it is certain that the Divine Arm Crossbow was a "side-mounted crossbow." Its body was made of dense mulberry wood, and the tip of the crossbow was made of hard sandalwood… Could these materials be found in the Levant? Perhaps hard jujube wood could be an alternative?
Thinking of this, Lyon's eyes lit up again, a mysterious look appearing on his face. He said, "Your Majesty, I've heard that in faraway Seris..." He saw Baldwin already holding his forehead, giving him a "you're here again" look. Feeling a little embarrassed, he quickly regained his normal tone, cleared his throat, and continued, "There's a type of crossbow, with a bow length exceeding one yard, a string length nearly ten palms wide, a draw weight of up to 300 pounds, a range of up to 370 yards, simple operation, and easy loading..."
He didn't finish his sentence. Baldwin raised his linen-wrapped hand, making a gentle yet undeniable gesture of interruption.
"You don't need to report the details to me anymore, Lyon." His voice was unusually calm, even carrying a sense of relief and entrustment. "Just go for it. Use the dinars you earn from implementing the new tax system to try out all your ideas. As for me, a terminally ill man whose life hangs in the balance, what can I do to help you?"
"Lyon, your wildly imaginative ideas will remain nothing more than castles in the air if you don't put them into practice."