Chapter 82: Assault On The City!
This kind of catapult is not the simplest. The simplest one Heraclius took them to see was a large Cross laid flat on the ground. A flexible wooden pole was inserted into the center of the Cross, and the other end of the wooden pole was a spoon-shaped loader. Its end was tied with an animal tendon or leather strap, and the tendon was tightened on a winch. When ready to launch, the tendon was cut or the mechanism was struck to release it.
It might only be one man wide and two men high. Its power and range were not impressive, but it had the advantage of being easy to make and transport.
As for heavy catapults like the wild donkey, the base and width were basically equal, the structure was more complex and ingenious. At least the one Caesar saw had a rotating platform and a special mount that could adjust the elevation angle, with winches on both sides, and the elastic beam fixation reinforced with circles of leather straps—and moreover, it launched not stones, but crossbow bolts.
To Caesar, it looked very much like the prototype of a firearm. The crossbow bolt was the bullet, the kinetic energy produced by the elastic beam was like the thrust from gunpowder, the elastic beam striking the end of the crossbow bolt to launch it, destroying everything within effective range.
Of course, most catapults lived up to their name and launched stones, but some catapults did not have a concave loader at the end, but a leather pouch. “This can be used to hold many things,” Heraclius glanced at Caesar: “For example, a reckless little fool.”
Baldwin chuckled. He knew Heraclius was still blaming Caesar for his impulsive behavior three years ago. No matter how others praised it, from a parent’s standpoint, if there was a choice, one would only hope for one’s child to be safe and sound—Caesar had no blood relation with Heraclius, but in the Church, the relationship between priest and disciple was almost equivalent to father and son.
At that time, a slight mistake would have really gotten Caesar stuffed into a leather pouch by Walter and thrown from the castle wall of Tortosa into the camp of Amalric I.
There were also some parts belonging to catapults that were already so large that without Heraclius explaining beside them, they simply could not recognize what they were, not even Caesar was an exception. Things seen in books were completely different from those seen in person—those thick towering wooden beams, those things that looked like carriages or houses, those hamster wheels—wait?
“Those are walking wheels.” Heraclius said after just one glance, “Used for large and super-large catapults.”
That kind of catapult could not possibly be assembled until reaching the battlefield. Once assembled, it could not be moved at all. It was not only huge but also extremely heavy, with counterweight boxes possibly carrying tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of pounds of mud. To operate it required not only several people pulling together, but also walking wheels on both sides—two people side by side inside pedaling, the principle similar to a pedal waterwheel.
And this kind of catapult could not stabilize itself by its own weight at all. Its connections required iron fittings and rivets, and the main pillars had to be driven into the ground to ensure it would not shake or even topple.
In comparison, the battering ram, siege engines, and siege towers had seen hardly any changes in style over the past thousand years, only improvements in height and size.
“This is the ‘turtle’,” Heraclius said: “Some people call them ‘rats’, but it doesn’t matter much. When you shout ‘rat’ or ‘turtle’ loudly, no one will think you’re planning to curse the enemy to death.”
Whether turtle or rat, it looked very much like a low house, even more sturdy and solid than most serfs’ houses. They usually had a triangular roof, with four wheels at the base. When advancing, soldiers hid under the roof, pushing this shelter forward. When in combat, the roof would be covered with wet cowhide to prevent it from being ignited by enemy flames.
And the battering ram was generally mounted inside these shelters. Their metal heads were cast into ram’s heads or turtle heads, the metal head mounted on a thick wooden beam suspended by ropes. Initially pushed by men, but now most were changed to fixed wooden beams, with battering rams driven by winches and tendons installed on the wooden beams. Sometimes the battering ram could also be replaced with a giant spear.
“This basket isn’t made well?” Baldwin doubtfully picked up a basket. This wicker basket was large enough to fit him inside, but had a square hole on one side about the size of a man’s face. “This is also a type of mobile shelter,” Heraclius said, while maliciously patting it, directly putting Baldwin inside.
“You try it too.”
He said to Caesar again. Caesar had no choice but to put on a wicker basket. The two handsome and elegant novice knights immediately turned into two ridiculous basket men. Heraclius nodded in satisfaction. From the outside, it wasn’t obvious how much he was laughing inside, but Caesar knew Heraclius was always a very vindictive guy who never missed any opportunity to mock others.
Amalric I’s previous failed attack on Egypt had been mocked by him until now. God knows if part of the reason Amalric I was determined to take Fustat this time was because of that.
He believed that in the coming years, whenever there was a banquet, the after-dinner jokes would surely not lack the “basket men”.
“This is a ladder.” This they all recognized, but this ladder was obviously larger and longer than ordinary ladders, and had detachable hooks at the top, similar to the plank “crow” used on ships. Once hooked onto the crenelation, it was hard to lift and push away by manpower alone, but the defenders often used a rope with a heavy weight hanging, pulling sideways to push the ladder away.
“This is used in some occasionally opened small gaps.” Heraclius said, and then they came before a similarly busy workshop where it was unclear what they were doing.
“This is the siege tower workshop.”
Siege towers were often built taller than the city walls, that is, to a height of about one hundred feet, roughly ten stories. Modern people might find it hard to believe, but that was the fact, and you could think of it as a building rather than a siege apparatus—its internal structure was like that of a tall tower, except the base had six or eight wheels and a battering ram.
It was divided into several levels, each with ladders for going up and down, and a well mouth for vertically hoisting buckets, used to extinguish flames that might fall on the siege tower. On the highest platform, there were crenelations like city walls, allowing archers to shoot from above, covering the knights charging from the siege tower onto the city wall.
The reason for saying that was because siege towers were often crowded with a dozen or even dozens of knights. On the second level of the siege tower, basically level with the city wall, there was a drawbridge that could be lowered. Once the siege tower approached the city wall, below could use the battering ram to strike the city wall, and above could lower the drawbridge, with knights surging across the drawbridge to fight the defenders on the city wall.
“You and Baldwin will both be in this siege tower, or that one.” Heraclius said. Although he was not the type to pamper children like a woman, he also knew that on Ayyarasa Road, no matter how noble or kind you were, if people thought you were a coward—you would find it hard to earn respect.
Baldwin was like that—so when he was diagnosed as a leper, everyone thought he would be stripped of his position as heir and exiled from Ayyarasa Road, because Ayyarasa Road did not need a monarch unable to wield a long sword, leading knights to gallop across the battlefield.
Similarly, Caesar was the same—if he shrank back, afraid to fight the enemy on the battlefield, all his previous good deeds would be wiped away, and some might even feel deceived and take revenge even more fiercely.
“You won’t be in the first wave,” Heraclius said gravely: “But whether second wave or third, while waiting, pay attention to observe, absorb experience as much as possible, keep a steady mindset… I know you’ve been through several battles before, but that kind of combat compared to siege warfare, especially the siege and defense of a great city like Fustat, is completely the difference between heaven and hell.”
“And the enemies you’ll face are definitely Saracens who have received revelations from their Prophet, vastly different from the enemies you’ve encountered before. Whatever you’ve relied on, they have too, perhaps sharper, stronger, with richer accumulation and experience than you.”
“Be cautious, and never get careless.”
“We will,” Baldwin replied: “But Heraclius, can we take off the baskets for now?”
This time it was Caesar’s turn to chuckle out loud.
The two novice knights timed taking off the baskets perfectly. Just as they were straightening their clothes, an attendant rode up hastily to find Heraclius. It was said that at Amalric I’s military conference, several lords had disagreements over the subsequent layout and advance method, deadlocked in argument, so Amalric I had to send for Heraclius to see if he could offer any good suggestions.
Heraclius had to set aside today’s lesson and return to Al-Afif Palace with the two children.
Although Al-Afif Palace had been darkly mocked by the Saracens as a brothel, when it was first built, the designers and craftsmen were still full of devotion and respect for the royal family, so every place was made as magnificent as possible, without any flaws. All the building complex, from top to bottom, guaranteed great halls, meeting rooms, bedrooms, and reception rooms, connected by corridors and courtyards, with walls inlaid with scripture and mosaic geometric patterns, dazzlingly brilliant and exquisite.
But now Amalric I probably had no mind to appreciate these wonders. He and several lords, the Count of Tripoli, the Duke of Antioch, the Grand Masters of the Knights Templar and Knights Hospitaller, and several respected dukes and counts, were endlessly debating the upcoming siege warfare.
In such an occasion, even Prince Baldwin could only remain silent, holding a wine jug and acting as an attendant on the side, but Caesar and he immediately understood. Originally, according to Amalric I and the lords’ initial plan, they would directly attack Fustat, but now there was a new problem.
Fustat was a great city not inferior to Ayyarasa Road at all. It was the capital of the Fatimid Dynasty, with three layers of city walls, three city gates, each city gate flanked by two huge towers, like a sturdy leather belt tightly cinched around the waist of the beauty Fustat, allowing her to avoid violation by external enemies.
And to the left of Fustat was the Nile River, but the large island Laudae Island in the Nile River was separated from Fustat’s city walls by only a narrow river channel. It became Fustat’s natural flank position, and since Zengi’s Saladin and Ilghazi came to Fustat, they had begun building a fortress on Laudae Island.
Now this fortress was completed, and somehow, a drawbridge and bridges had been connected between the fortress and Fustat.
“Who can tell me?” Amalric I asked in anger: “How did these bridges suddenly appear? Did the devil build them for them?!”
