Chapter 95: The Gates of Hama
June 3, 1180 – Hama, Syria
The morning sun shimmered off polished helms and steel spearheads as the Frankish host approached the northern gates of Hama. The city, nestled along the banks of the Orontes, had once bristled with garrisons and Ayyubid banners. But now the towers were oddly silent. No archers lined the walls. No sentries called out. Only a tattered white flag fluttered from the highest minaret—surrender.
King Baldwin IV, wrapped in a plain white cloak and flanked by his guards, studied the skyline with narrowed eyes. His fingers trembled faintly on the pommel of his saddle, though he betrayed no pain. The penicillin treatment had kept the rot at bay, but exhaustion from weeks of campaigning weighed heavily on his bones. Still, the leper king held the reins firmly, back straight.
He turned to Balian of Ibelin, riding at his right. "No resistance?"
"None, sire," Balian replied. "Their last garrison retreated after the battle. The city elders sent word that they will open the gates and submit."
"They're wise," Baldwin said. "We'll not waste men on a siege when fear serves us better."
Behind them, columns of Crusader infantry stretched along the road: knights, sergeants, pikemen, and crossbowmen—all blooded from Aleppo and the victory outside its walls. Hospitaller banners snapped in the wind near the center column, while Templar horsemen patrolled the flanks with practiced ease. Despite the hard march south, morale remained high. Rumors of Saladin's grievous wound had only fueled their sense of destiny.
As they neared the outer gate, the city's delegation emerged under guard: robed elders, a few imams, and the commander of the militia. Their faces were drawn, anxious. Baldwin dismounted with effort, assisted by two Hospitallers. He walked forward slowly but deliberately, leprosy-hidden hands folded beneath his cloak.
A translator stepped forward as the leader of the city bowed low. "We open our gates to you, King of Jerusalem. We seek no war with you. Our sons are dead. Our treasury, we will not hide. We only ask that the city be spared."
Baldwin regarded them in silence for a long moment, then gave a slight nod. "Your submission is accepted. Your people will not be harmed—so long as they do not raise arms. The mosques will remain. But the city is now under the authority of Jerusalem."