Insufficient balance

  The flames of the bonfire were like dancing fairies, twisting and turning on the pile of wood. The Mamluk cavalrymen sat eating their meal, drinking sweet black tea from a pot.

  Like meat, this is an indispensable food for Arabs. Especially the Mamluk cavalry who undertook combat missions, dried meat, red tea and specially made flatbread.

  After the battle in the afternoon, there were only more than 20 Mamluk cavalrymen left here. For the time being, they had not yet recovered from the grief of losing their companions.

  They sat around the bonfire, never thinking that Zhao Fubo and his men would make a surprise attack. At this time, they were chatting about pre-dinner gossip, talking more about Zhao Fubo's mysterious and powerful spear.

  Looking at their appearance, it won't be long before they forget their sorrow due to the hot tea in the cold wind and the delicious food. At that time, they will jump up and dance with a piercing cry that pierces through the night sky, making themselves the bravest warriors once again.

  But at this moment, a sound of horseshoes came like a sudden rainstorm. The Mamluk cavalry, who had just put the first mouthful of food into their mouths with their right hands, were shocked and the food stopped in mid-air.

  Or they thought in an instant, when facing such a raid, whether to put the rice into their mouths or grab their knives.

  Archery was not a difficult task for the Mamluk cavalry, especially those like Muk who had been trained by the Zhao family and had more characteristics from the Mongols - strong bows and heavy arrows.

  Compared with ordinary compound bows, the compound bow with Chinese archery art has different characteristics in terms of strength and accuracy, whether compared to Mongolian bows or Arabic compound bows.

  Zhao Fu's composite reflex bow was now drawn to its fullest extent, and like all composite reflex bows, this was a construction that did not strain the archer as much after being fully drawn, unlike a solid wooden bow (such as an English longbow), allowing the archer to focus on aiming.

  Mamluk cavalry near the pyre, facing a sudden attack, one by one quickly ran to their own war horses.

  But all these preparations were a bit too late in the face of Zhao Fubo's sudden acceleration and attack as he approached with a small run.

  Just as they were shouting and running about in confusion, the first three long arrows flew out of the darkness.

  "Whoosh..."

  "Ah..."

  The people hit by arrows let out mournful cries. Compared with firearms, cold weapons showed more cruelty in battle.

  Three long arrows brought down three Mamluk horsemen, but this did not deter the other Mamluks from abandoning their companions and mounting up to charge.

  Another batch of three long arrows broke through the air, along with these three long arrows, there were also Abdul-Jabbar's incoherent string of greetings.

  "Although you are robbers, I don't hate you at all. We probably haven't met before, so please give my regards to your mother and father, and if you have brothers and sisters, please give them my regards as well..."

  This time his words were too many, and the long arrow he shot out did not hit the target. Instead, it flew over the target and fell to the ground.

  "Oh dear Allah, I shouldn't have talked so much... look..."

  In the afternoon, Zhao Xu, that arrogant and detestable man, was killed or wounded, which made the leader of this group of Mamluk cavalry feel extremely displeased.

  Now I've run into Abdul-Jabbar again, and he's thoroughly enraged.

  "Hmm..."

  The Mameluke cavalryman spurred his horse, waving an iron lance in his hand, and his furious cry was like thunder rolling across the desert.

  "You will never have to open your mouth again, I swear by Allah..."

  At this time, two shots were fired, and five people fell down. Zhao Fubo and his three men all pulled the reins to stop the horses from rushing forward. Then they turned their heads around and ran back at a faster speed than when they came.

  "There aren't many of them, don't let them get away!"

  By the light of the scattered embers, the leader of the Mamluk cavalry saw that there were not many attackers and shouted.

  He hung the iron spear in his hand on the horse and then stretched out to pull out the bow behind the saddle, wanting to use others' methods against them.

  However, what disappointed them was that the three horses galloped swiftly on the sandy ground, and the silhouette of the sneak attackers soon disappeared into the darkness.

  "Chase!"

  The remaining dozen or so Mamluk cavalrymen rode off into the darkness. This decision led some of the horsemen to think that this was an imprudent move, and even wanted to propose to their commander the idea of not pursuing a defeated enemy.

  However, the captain's figure had already swept into the darkness like a whirlwind. The rest of the cavalrymen could only gallop after him in desperation.

  The farther away from the bonfire, the more difficult it is to distinguish the road in the darkness. Fortunately, the three people being chased in front did not run fast and could always see their backs.

  At such a distance and under these lighting conditions, the arrow shot out is unlikely to easily hit the target.

  A long arrow with a sharp whistling sound flew past Zhao Fubo and his men from behind. Abuduljemal, who was crouching on the horse to keep distance from the pursuing soldiers, was still talking loudly without stopping.

  "You know, bandit friends, I met a good master. When I say something wrong, he won't whip my butt with a whip. How about your masters? Oh, right, don't let your horses run too fast, or they will..."

  As they drew closer to their ambush point, Abdul-Jabbar's words carried on the night wind into Martin's ears.

  "Haha, Zhao Er Lang is a clever guy, he knows how to use that chatterbox's brainless words!"

  Indeed, in this dark night, if you want to track someone down, following the sound might be more reliable than following the figure.

  Although this may be a trap, according to the Mamaluke cavalry leader's idea. If that out-of-tune Abdul-Jemar could set traps, then maybe even roosters would lay eggs.

  The sound of hooves, like a storm, was getting closer and closer. Martin, hiding behind a large rock, lit a match in his pocket, his eyes fixed on the two groups of cavalry approaching.

  After Zhao Fubo and his two companions ran past, Martin, who was riding on horseback, began to set up his trap.

  "Heh heh, this kind of weather is perfect for arson!"

  As for the trap, it was actually just a series of torches coated with oil and tied to wooden rods. Martin only needed to light them up one by one.

  The purpose was clear enough: to create a bright * that would leave the pursuing Mamluk cavalry with nowhere to hide in the dark of night.

  "Beware, there's an ambush...!"

  The Mamluk cavalry, in the midst of a charge, desperately pulled on their reins to stop their galloping horses. Ambushed in the dark night, they were terrified and began to turn their horses around, cursing their leader while trying to escape.

  But their figures were now fully exposed in the light of the torches on the side.

  The two longbowmen who had already hidden themselves nearby, as well as Little John and Scarlett, now shot out their first wave of arrows.

  Zhaofu Bo and the other two also reined in their horses, and the bows in their hands began to attack again. In the silent feathered arrow attack, one by one, the Mamluk cavalry turned around, starting to whip their horses to escape this hell.

  In just the first wave of attack, five people were shot down from their horses and another horse was injured.

  This left its master with a sorrowful face, holding a curved knife, waiting for death on this sandy ground.

  "Get out of here..."

  The Mamluk cavalrymen threw away their iron lances and slung the shields from their saddles onto their backs, protecting their bodies.

  They clamped their legs tightly around the horse's body, kicking its belly with all their might, and the whips in their hands were mercilessly lashed at the horse's buttocks.

  "Sniffling..."

  The horses were also infected with the panic of humans, they neighed and stretched their necks. Their wide-open eyes, filled with fearful gaze, were full of red bloodshot.

  "Run, can you escape so easily?"

  At this point Martin, having completed the torch task, ran a short distance in the direction of the Mamluk cavalry camp where the real trap was laid.

  As for traps, it's actually a very simple thing. Using a rope to connect a large stone on the side of the road with a wooden stake.

  The Mamluk cavalrymen who had been pursuing in earnest were thrown into confusion when they encountered the ambush, while Martin calmly and quietly set his trap.

  Using the weapon in his hand, he loosened the wooden wedges that held the stone in place. The stone, losing its support, rotated slightly and then rolled down. Its weight pressed the long rope flat onto the ground.

  The height is just enough to reach the horse's knee, which is the weakest point of the horse's leg.

  Five successive volleys of musket fire were enough to end the lives of these masqueraders, dressed up as Mameluke cavalry.

  Martin had just finished placing the last tripwire when the Mamaluke cavalry, in disarray under the hail of arrows, bent down on their horses and took off like a whirlwind.

  Unfortunately, they didn't think about what kind of big meal was waiting for them ahead as they fled in a flurry.

  "Ah..."

  "God..."

  "In the name of Allah..."

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa! My bandit friends, did you get knocked out cold? Do you need me to help you up?"

  The last cry was no longer the scream of the Mamluk cavalrymen who had been knocked to the ground.

  Along with Abdul Zema's incoherent muttering, Zhao Fubo and Muke, who never spoke a word, rushed over, wielding large guns and iron spears.

  Especially when encountering such bloody killings, Zhao Fubo and Mu Ke became even more silent.

  Behind them were more hoofbeats. Those were two longbowmen and Little John and Scarlett.

  By the time they arrived, the last few Mamluk horsemen had also fallen to the ground in a bloody heap. Except for the leader who managed to escape under the cover of the Mamluk cavalry, everyone else was already lying on the ground.

  At this time, in the entire killing field, only Abdul-Jabbar's out-of-tune nonsense continued unabated.

  "Hey, why are you all lying down? Are you all going to the Lord or something? Ah, you bastards, remember not to pick out all the beautiful girls!"

  This is natural, there are 72 virgins in Allah's place, naturally Abdul Zamar cannot be impatient.