CHAPTER 75 - 75: THE TWO MARCHES

Date: April 15th, 1180

The morning sun crested low over the Judean hills as King Baldwin IV rode at the head of his army, the banners of Jerusalem fluttering sharply in the cool breeze. The dusty road stretched ahead, winding through sparse olive groves and scrubland as the vanguard pushed east toward the borderlands of Syria. The time for hesitation was past. Baldwin's focus was clear: speed.

Behind him, the ranks of knights, infantry, pikemen, and engineers pressed onward, their boots stirring clouds of dust that danced in the early light. The new pike formations and crossbowmen moved in practiced coordination, honed by months of drilling. War machines creaked and groaned on wheels, hauled by oxen, their iron and wood carefully maintained by the camp artisans. Every man knew his purpose.

"We ride light," Baldwin told his captains during a brief halt. "We do not linger in villages or hamlets. The time is not for conquest of small towns, but for a swift strike at Aleppo. We must reach it before Saladin fully recovers and reinforces."

His voice, though hoarse from the morning's exertion, carried the authority of a man who had battled both sickness and intrigue to lead this campaign. Around him, commanders nodded, adjusting their horses' reins. The army would bypass known fortified settlements where possible, leaving garrisons of trusted knights to guard supply lines far behind, while pressing ahead with the main host. Speed and surprise were their allies.

To the north, from the port city of Acre, another host was on the march, led by Bohemond III of Antioch, a veteran prince of the northern Crusader States and a stalwart ally. His contingent was smaller—around six thousand men—but disciplined and fierce. The clatter of hooves and the rhythmic beat of marching infantry echoed through the mountain passes.

Bohemond was ever vigilant. His scouts patrolled ahead and to the flanks, eyes sharp for signs of Saladin's spies or ambushes. Recent reports confirmed that Saladin was aware of their movements, with troops concentrating near Damascus, signaling his preparation for defense.

"Watch the passes and valleys," Bohemond instructed one of his captains. "Any sign of the enemy massing against us, and we pull back to the mountains. We will not fight their full strength on open ground."

His scouts confirmed that Saladin was moving forces north toward Damascus, but it was unclear whether the sultan planned to challenge Bohemond's army directly.

"Saladin is mobilizing fast," Bohemond mused during a quiet moment. "We must hold steady and stick to our orders."

He made note of several small skirmishes with enemy patrols—hit-and-run raids designed to test their defenses.

"We must keep our lines secure, but not overextend," Bohemond told his captains. "Our orders are to maintain strength and readiness, but not to engage unless we control the battlefield."

As evening fell, he sent another dispatch to Baldwin: "Enemy scouts report heavy mobilization near Damascus. The city's walls are strengthened; Saladin's troops march swiftly to defend. Our presence forces him to split his forces. Stay swift and ready."

The Main March: Baldwin's Advance

Baldwin's force approached the borders of northern Syria with grim determination. The countryside here was harsher than the rolling hills of Judea—rocky foothills, sparse farmland, and isolated villages dotted the landscape. Yet the pace did not slacken.

Using the new surveying techniques and knowledge from past campaigns, Baldwin's engineers marked the fastest routes, cutting corners on mountain paths and constructing makeshift bridges over streams to avoid delays. His supply train, though sizeable, was tightly managed. Food and water were rationed carefully; foraging parties were sent only when necessary to avoid alerting local populations and Saladin's scouts.

Instead of besieging small castles or towns that might delay their progress, Baldwin left these to be bypassed or contained by local forces loyal to Jerusalem, trusting that maintaining speed and cohesion was paramount.

At a midday council beneath the shade of a lone oak, Baldwin laid out his strategy to his captains.

"Aleppo is the prize," he said, pointing eastward on the map. "If we can strike quickly and establish a foothold there, we break Saladin's power in Syria and open the way to Damascus."

One of his commanders raised a question: "But what of supply lines, Your Majesty? Moving so fast risks stretching us thin."

Baldwin nodded. "We have built forts and supply caches along the route over the past months. Our engineers will improve roads where necessary. We march with speed, but not recklessness. The pike formations and crossbowmen will hold the line if ambushed."

The newly introduced pike squares were proving effective in drills, and Baldwin planned to deploy them strategically during any encounter.

A Kingdom on the Move

Back in Baldwin's camp, the mood was tense but hopeful. Men whispered of the coming confrontation, but there was also pride in the preparations and the discipline displayed on the march.

The combination of pike blocks, crossbow lines, and engineers setting up stormracks—the large mechanical siege engines Baldwin had devised—gave the army a new edge. They were not just a medieval host; they were a modern fighting force forged from experience and innovation.

Every day brought them closer to Aleppo, and Baldwin's mind raced with the possibilities: a stronghold there could fracture Saladin's hold on Syria and serve as a staging ground for further campaigns.

Bohemond's force maintained steady pressure on the eastern flank, monitoring enemy movements near Damascus and relaying intelligence.

For now, the march continued—silent, purposeful, and deadly.