As night fell, peace once again settled over the castle.
"Ugh!!!" Norn gritted his teeth and let out a pained groan as the arrow was pulled from his thigh. After a while, he recovered from the pain and examined the arrow that had been so close to him. Thankfully, there were no signs of rust or any mysterious substances. With proper disinfection, he should be fine.
"Sassan, how are the others?" Norn weakly asked, lying in bed. The castle was filled with the wounded, and those who were still able-bodied were busy preparing for the next wave of defense. The only one left to tend to Norn was Sassan, who was also injured.
"Lord Patrick merely fainted from exhaustion but has since regained consciousness. He shouldn't draw his bow for a few days, though. The other lords have only sustained minor injuries, nothing serious," Sassan replied.
"How were our casualties today?"
Sassan hesitated for a moment before saying, "Lord Otto came by and told you to focus on recovering and not to worry about these matters."
"If I don't worry, Saladin will capture me and make me his prisoner," Norn sat up, took a sip of water, and said, "Go on, tell me."
"The Templar Knights had over 200 killed or severely wounded, and the rest are pretty much all injured. Only about 500 workers assisting in the defense made it back inside the inner wall," Sassan thought for a moment and added, "The manor guard and Norse mercenaries still have about 100 men who can fight."
"What about Saladin's casualties?"
"They should be more than double ours."
"Is that so? Seems like things aren't looking good," Norn said with a hint of frustration.
The brief peace wouldn't last. As the sun rose on the third day, the wounded beasts were unleashed once more.
Norn limped his way to the castle's main tower, looking down at the bustling crowd and numerous defensive structures below. His confidence grew a bit. With the defensive perimeter now smaller, the castle actually had enough manpower to defend it.
"Yesterday was your lucky day, but it's not going to be easy for you next! Saladin," Norn clenched his teeth, glaring at Saladin's royal banner.
"Take cover! The trebuchets are firing!"
With a shout, another wave of stone projectiles rained down. The fragile walls of the main tower couldn't withstand the impact and were punched through with a large hole.
Norn, looking at the "window" violently opened above his head, no longer had any thoughts of making bold statements and quickly limped away from this spot that was drawing too much fire.
By the time Norn got outside, the two sides were already locked in combat again. And the temporary crossbowmen were performing much better.
Norn hadn't understood where these temporary workers were getting their fighting spirit from until Sassan quietly told him. Yesterday afternoon, when the Saracens were cleaning up the battlefield, they had treated the captured Templar Knights well, hoping to collect ransom later. But these converted workers, once caught, were executed on the spot.
It seemed that traitors were more hated than enemies everywhere! Norn thought to himself. But looking at these energized workers, Norn felt like Saladin had unintentionally done him a big favor.
Saracen archers stood on the outer wall, shooting at the castle. But the temporary crossbowmen on the inner wall, after a day of bloody fighting, had much better morale and could operate the crossbows more skillfully. With the height advantage and the cover of the walls, shooting became incredibly easy.
Now, the Saracen archers on the outer wall were suppressed, and their own crossbowmen could spare some effort to suppress the infantry.
"Quick! The enemy is climbing up!" the lookout shouted.
Saladin's siege towers were blocked by the outer wall, so now the Saracens had to rely on makeshift ladders to climb up. For a while, the narrow space between the inner and outer walls was packed with people.
"Hot sand!" Otto shouted. Several workers placed barrels of hot sand on a wooden platform, while other workers pedaled a human-powered crane, similar to a "hamster wheel," to lift the platform of hot sand up to the wall.
A few barrels of hot sand were poured down on the climbing enemies. In an instant, their skin was scorched, and several enemies screamed and rolled down. The Saracens below, splashed with the hot sand, couldn't stop writhing in pain.
Norn hid on the extended watchtower above the gate. The stone watchtower no longer made him worry about being shot by a ballista. Watching the battering ram slowly approach, Norn pulled the lever.
A soaked cotton quilt was hung in front of the gate.
The Saracens stared at the quilt in confusion. The ram hit the quilt, and its power was greatly cushioned, unable to effectively damage the gate.
"Thought you could shoot me, huh? Try this on for size!" Norn gritted his teeth and tipped over a bucket of burning hot sand. The scalding sand poured down, and any Saracen who touched it immediately let out agonized screams. For a moment, all the Saracens avoided the area below the watchtower.
But the Saracens had the advantage in numbers. Numerous ladders were placed against the outer wall, and the Saracen soldiers, who had been through days of fierce fighting, were urged by their officers to climb up reluctantly.
Seeing the archers' morale waning, Saladin sent a group of infantry with large shields to protect them, allowing the archers to no longer be completely suppressed by Norn's crossbowmen and to shoot smoothly from behind the gaps in the shields. At the same time, a group of Mamluks was sent to climb the walls, hoping to create a breach.
The elite Mamluks launched a fierce attack from one direction. Clad in both chainmail and lamellar armor, they remained combat-effective even with several arrows lodged in their bodies.
They once again leaped into the crowd, indiscriminately hacking at the unprotected workers.
But soon, Otto noticed this weak point and immediately ordered William to take men over there.
William, who had been resting below the wall, grabbed a page hammer and led his men up to the battlements. The heavy page hammer was incredibly effective against close-fitting armor; a single blow would shatter bones. And when faced with an opponent's strike, William, wearing a curved plate armor, would simply charge forward.
The curved plate armor, when struck by a mace, would leave a deep dent but successfully dissipate the kinetic energy, preventing any damage to the flesh beneath.
"Four down! I reckon my kill count should surpass Patrick's today," William thought happily, planning to boast to the bedridden Patrick after the battle. Just as he was about to add another to his tally, a crossbow bolt stole the kill.
William turned to see Patrick still in the shooting position below the wall.
Spotting William's gaze, Patrick took a crossbow that had been loaded by a worker and mouthed the number "6." In that instant, William was so frustrated he let out a roar, and his hammer swung even faster.
After a period of fierce fighting, another group of warriors relieved William and his men, continuing to wear down the Mamluks' strength. The archers on the inner wall and the main tower kept providing support.
The constant reinforcement tactics finally exceeded the Saracens' limits. The breach could not be opened, and even the elite Mamluks could not hold their ground under the dual onslaught of arrows and the defenders' weapons.
Finally, a deep horn sounded continuously, and the Saracens, as if granted a reprieve, quickly retreated through the outer gate.
In the Saracen camp outside the city, Saladin gazed at the tough inner wall, his eyes betraying no sign of panic. He knew success was within reach.
"Let's see what you do next," he murmured.