The Sicilian army, weathered and worn from the relentless march under the shadow of enemy fire and Tartar harassment, finally approached the gates of Durazzo. The wearied soldiers, their armor battered and cloaks dust-laden, trudged forward with a determined resolve, fueled by the anticipation of reaching the safety offered by the city walls.
The gates of Durazzo loomed large before them, a beacon of refuge after the grueling journey. The fatigue etched on their faces was overshadowed by the collective relief at the prospect of sanctuary.They passed sleepless nights during the march for fear of having arrow rained on them while they sleeping. Each step toward the entrance carried a weight of triumph over the adversities faced on the perilous march.
