Bohemond found his pavilion standing as before. His servants had everything in order, and a hot bath waiting for him. There was bread for his knights and fodder for their horses. The pilgrims were encamped in a pleasant valley, amid a friendly population of warlike Armenians whom the Turks had never plundered; though even these warlike Armenians thought it prudent to pay tribute to the infidels of Syria. That was an added excitement. The pilgrimage had traversed Anatolia from end to end, and now was almost on the threshold of the Holy Land. Henceforth there would be hard fighting, but no more of those terrible marches among deserts and mountains. The infantry twisted new bowstrings out of unfamiliar silk, the knights tried out their new Armenian horses. They were almost within sight of their goal.
After he was bathed and fed Bohemond asked to see Tancred. His nephew swept in with a vigour that made him almost feel tired again.
“If you see Count Baldwin, the brother of the Count of Boulogne, kill him at once. There is blood-feud between us. He has killed three hundred of my men.”
“Of course I share my nephew’s blood-feud. But are you sure of your facts? Three hundred men? With his own lance? He is a good knight, I know, but I never thought of him as that kind of paladin. Is he in camp? Why haven’t you killed him already?”
“He didn’t kill them with his own lance, the recreant. He betrayed them to the Turks. Of course he isn’t here in camp. He fled eastward, to the castles of those Armenian scallywags who are his friends. In any case I can’t kill him, even if we meet again. We have been formally reconciled; the Kiss of Peace, Communion, kneeling side by side, all the trimmings. That’s although he was in the wrong from start to finish. But it’s a complicated story.”
“If it’s complicated you must tell me all of it, slowly. Before you begin I’ll make this clear. I gather you think yourself in the right, but even if you are in the wrong I stand by my sister’s son. In any blood-feud Hautevilles stand together. Now begin, and slowly.”
The boy collected his thoughts.
“Well, you remember that I set out for Tarsus. I had a hundred knights and two hundred cross-bows, enough to liberate the whole country. The pass is dangerous, as the Greeks said; but no one held it against us. Then at Tarsus we had a stroke of luck. The Turkish garrison, who had never met Franks, rode out to meet us in the open field. They charged instead of using their bows. We drove them back to Tarsus a good deal faster than they had come out. Then I remembered your advice about prudence and avoiding traps, so I halted the pursuit outside the gates of the town.”
“That was sensible,” Bohemond commented. “I hate fighting among houses unless my men are already dismounted and in good order.”
“For three days we sat before Tarsus,” Tancred continued. “The gates were shut, but the walls were not properly manned. Some Greeks got out and told my interpreter that the Turks hadn’t made up their minds what to do. They felt frightened, but they were safe inside the very strong castle. The Greeks wanted me to offer terms. The Turks would come out if they were guaranteed a safe retreat with horse and arms. I wouldn’t promise that because in fact I couldn’t guarantee it. Obviously the Greeks planned to murder them by shooting from the housetops while the Turks were entangled in the streets, and once fighting broke out my men would join in. I believe I did right. Some say there’s no need to keep faith with infidels. That may be true as a general rule but a knight must always keep faith.”
“Only clerks want infidels to be massacred, and even they want someone else to do the killing,” answered Bohemond. “Even with infidels, stick to the rules of war. If the infidels break the rules you may treat them as they deserve. You did right.”
“Well, on the evening of the third day Count Baldwin came up with a much bigger army than mine, five hundred knights and a lot of foot. He set up a separate camp, and we more or less ignored one another; though naturally the Turks supposed he had come to reinforce me. So in the middle of the night they rode out from the castle, right out of Tarsus and clear away. As soon as it was light the Greeks told me what had happened. I rode in with my men and raised my banner on the castle.”
Tancred had been pacing the floor. Now with a smile of apology he dropped to a stool. He was coming to the crisis of the story, and he wished to give an impression of fair-minded calm.
“Count Baldwin called on me. He suggested that we should join forces to pillage Tarsus. I answered that I had not come on this pilgrimage to plunder Christians, and that the Greeks and Armenians of Tarsus were now under my protection. His rejoinder to that was that I could not protect them. He wanted the town, and his army was strong enough to drive me out. But if I would lead my men eastward without showing fight he would let me go in peace. I thought it over for a bit, and then I fled from Tarsus.”
The young man looked appealingly at his uncle.
“There were other things I might have done. I might have hanged Count Baldwin from the battlements of the castle. But when I let him in to talk with me that implied a safe-conduct, don’t you think? It would have seemed dishonourable. I couldn’t hold the town. I hadn’t enough men. I could have held the castle for as long as my provisions lasted. But they were Turkish provisions and I had not yet counted them. My men might have begun to starve that very evening. And I didn’t want to be the first to draw sword on a fellow-pilgrim. Surely anything is better than war among the pilgrims? I fled.”
“There again you did right; though if you had murdered Baldwin when he threatened you in your own castle I for one would have stood by you. So far Baldwin has behaved very badly but no Christian blood has been shed. What is this about the bloodfeud?”
“It comes later. I wanted to explain what led up to it. I went off eastward. Cilicia is a rich province, full of Christians. Everywhere the Turks were getting out, fleeing north to join the Danishmends. The Greeks, of course, just wanted someone to protect them. They can’t or won’t fight, so they are bound to be ruled by foreigners. Every Armenian is willing to fight against the whole world; but that includes fighting against all the other Armenians, so their lords can’t set up strong fiefs. I took two fine towns named Adana and Mamistra, and I thought I would soon be Count of Cilicia. But Baldwin came after me, still threatening force. It was then I heard from some Greeks what he had done to our comrades in Tarsus as soon as my back was turned.”
Tancred stood up again. He was much too angry to sit still.
“Soon after I left Tarsus three hundred Apulians arrived there. Mostly foot and unarmed followers, with a sprinkling of troopers. They were tired of the long march. They had been told I was lord of Tarsus, and hoped to garrison the town for me. Baldwin would not allow them within the walls, so they camped in the open. A wandering band of Turks broke into their camp in the middle of the night. There were no survivors. Three hundred men—Apulians —men who had marched with us from Brindisi—men who looked to us for protection. They died because Baldwin would not let them sleep safe in Tarsus. That’s blood-feud. To even the score we must kill three hundred of Baldwin’s Frenchmen. It would be splendid if we could kill three hundred knights. A French knight for every Apulian groom. If we follow him now, with all our men, we may be able to do it.”
“Yes, but there’s more to come. You have been reconciled. I want to hear about that. First tell me, did his knights approve of what he had done?”
“Of course not. They are good knights. They talked of leaving his banner to seek some other lord.”
“That’s when you should have attacked him, when his own men were unwilling to fight. Instead you gave him the Kiss of Peace. How did that come about?”
“Because Baldwin has amazing luck. Suddenly he found more followers. They came literally out of the sea to help him. A fleet of north-French pirates put into the port of Tarsus. Just think of it. They had fought their way from the English Channel to the Levant. Somehow they got through the Straits of Gibraltar, between the Moors of Spain and the Moors of Africa. They were led by a man of Boulogne, a ruffian named Guynemer.
He was delighted to take service under the brother of the Count who had chased him into exile with a price on his head. That made Baldwin too strong and we called off the attack. But I got into Mamistra before him and kept him outside the walls when he arrived. My cousin Richard tried a night attack on Baldwin’s camp. But it’s not a trick that comes off twice in the same campaign. He retreated when he found ten times his numbers waiting for him. I didn’t want a battle in the open field, and by this time all the clergy with both armies were being a nuisance. So I went through this public reconciliation before the high altar of the main church in Mamistra.”
“Then you ended the feud, my boy. I don’t see why I should start another just to oblige you. I suppose you don’t want to break your reconciliation and be recreant? When you give your oath you must keep it, even if you have given it to a man you dislike. Henceforth you and Baldwin must be at peace, though that doesn’t mean you have to trust him. You say he has gone east, so you won’t have to meet him in council. Forget the whole business. That is the only advice I can give you.”
“Yes, he has gone off to look for a fief in the east. He has broken his vow to liberate Jerusalem. Baldwin is an oath-breaker, and recreant besides.”
“But Tancred is not recreant. Keep that in mind. I’m sorry to hear pilgrims have fought fellow-pilgrims, though it was bound to come sooner or later. Perhaps things would have gone smoother if the Pope had chosen a leader for us. But we must face conditions as they are, and liberate Jerusalem in spite of them. Everything you have told me is important and interesting, but you rather slurred over the most important development of all. Ships from the English Channel cruising off Tarsus. The ports of Cilicia held by Franks or Armenians. They may be nasty Franks or nasty Armenians, but they are not Greeks; and the nastier they are the better will they get on with a gang of pirates from Boulogne. You see what that means? A new route to Italy. Alexius doesn’t bar the way home any more.”
It was late before Tancred went back to his own pavilion, but Bohemond had persuaded him against further revenge. That boy could always be guided by an appeal to honour. It was just that his honourable thirst for vengeance was stronger sometimes than his other honourable sentiments. After hearing the advice of an older and wiser man he would always do the right thing. Butliow that boy enjoyed his emotions, how he wallowed in the luxurious depths of his honour! He must be the centre of attention. Probably he had been just as happy exchanging the Kiss of Peace with Count Baldwin before a crowd of admiring spectators as he would have been, if things had turned out a little differently, kneeling on Baldwin’s chest to hack off his head.
So Bohemond mused, sitting over a last cup of wine. The fleet from Boulogne, that was what really mattered. He closed his eyes, the better to contemplate the map now engraved on his mind. Antioch was not a port, but it stood near the mouth of a river. The lord of Antioch could not offer secure shelter to Christian ships.
Most sailors considered the Straits of Gibraltar an absolute bar to Christian traffic. Of course no Moors would want to attack a fleet of armed pilgrims—little profit in victory and plenty of hard knocks however the battle went. Ships from the north were better equipped for warfare, and their crews better armed, than the merchant fleets of the Mediterranean. Every Norman remembered that he was descended from Vikings.
All his life he had taken it for granted that the Greek navy ruled the Levant. Greek Fire was a secret weapon, deadly to all ships not equipped with it. Some Turks had taken to piracy but there was no organized Turkish fleet; there had never been a Turkish victory at sea to depress the morale of Greek sailors.
But all Italian sailors were not timid merchants. Amalfi and Bari, in his own Apulia, had a reputation for daring voyages and hard fighting. The Venetians had stood up to the Hautevilles. The Pisans were said to be as brave. A stiffening of North Sea pirates would make them more formidable still. They seldom visited Anatolia or Syria, because they did not trade with infidels. But a Christian Antioch, still more a Christian Jerusalem, would draw them. Sooner or later they would fight a stand-up battle with the Greek navy; and then the Greek navy, like all other Greek institutions, would be revealed as a sham living on its past repute. That was it. He would open a safe sea-route to Rome and all the lands of the Franks. Alexius could be ignored in his remote corner of Christendom. To reach Antioch Alexius must cross the desert and the mountains as the pilgrimage had done. If he ventured so far another Emperor would be proclaimed during his absence from the city. Never mind Cilicia, or the warlike and independent Armenians. Antioch was the key to future greatness. He, Bohemond, must rule it.
In the morning he attended another meeting of the council. It had become by now a smaller gathering. The lesser Counts, who used to come chiefly to assert their independence, now mostly adhered to some particular great man. The Normans of Apulia hung together, usually in alliance with the Normans of Normandy. In the same way Count Godfrey and Count Raymond each controlled a powerful and united army. If there should be a division of opinion no one would try to settle it by counting heads.
Nevertheless there were a few independents still who were worth conciliating: the Count of Vermandois, the Count of Flanders, or the numerous leaderless minor Counts from central France; and of course if any question of religious policy should come up, though that was unlikely, they must all defer to the commands of the legate.
As had now become the custom, Duke Godfrey took the chair. As soon as the meeting opened Bohemond seized the opportunity to repay a debt and gain an uncommitted supporter. He proposed that all provisions offered by local Christians or brought in by foragers should be put into a common stock, to be administered by the Count of Blois.
No one else wanted the troublesome task, and Count Stephen was delighted. The proposal was carried by acclamation. It was probably a good thing in itself, Bohemond considered. Stephen liked doing sums, and with his abacus he would get the answers more nearly right than any other great nobleman. If the provisions were divided fairly everyone would gain; and if they were divided unfairly, Stephen, who had helped Bohemond when his knights were starving, was the right man to profit by it.
Bohemond had spoke at the beginning of the meeting to get everything settled before Count Raymond should arrive. Raymond was often late, unless he cut breakfast; and he always opposed any suggestion put forward by Bohemond.
They went on to discuss the buying of horses from the Armenians, and the best road down to the plain of Antioch; and still Raymond did not appear. When the meeting broke up Bohemond strolled over to inquire from Robert of Normandy.
“What’s become of the hero of Dorylaeum, the gallant Count Raymond who rescued you and me from those ferocious Turks? Is he sick again? If he is, will you join me in a prayer that he may have a swift and painless journey to Heaven? I suppose that’s too much to hope for. Where is he? He’s not a man to go hunting when he might be making speeches.”
“He’s a pompous ass, isn’t he?” the Duke answered cheerfully. “He really believes that he rescued us, and that we ought to be grateful. But he couldn’t come to the council because he isn’t in camp. Don’t you know? Of course, it all happened while you were chasing those Turks. He galloped off to liberate Antioch with his single lance. Then he heard that the Turks might stay to meet him, so he very prudently halted half-way. As soon as we march again we shall join him.”
“This is important news. I wish they would keep a record of what happens in council so, that I can read it up if I miss a meeting. I suppose they’ll never do that. It’s too professional and tidy for gallant carefree Counts. Come to my pavilion and tell me all about it.”
“I’ll tell you all about it, but in my own pavilion. My steward found a little cask of wine that needs drinking. Why not stay to dinner? I can offer you a veteran he-goat, who defended his life most valiantly. That’s a better dinner than you will find anywhere else. The others are eating mule, which is even worse.”
There was an air of cheerful squalor about the quarter
s of the Duke of Normandy. The servants were friendly and inefficient, the furnishings dirty and comfortable. Bohemond dined on excellent new bread flavoured with a scrap of old goat, served on a dish of massy silver. The Duke ate from a wooden platter; he explained that he had just sold his gold plate, the gift of Alexius. But Duke Robert was a judge of wine; the little cask held a rare vintage.
“About dear old Raymond,” the Duke began. “It was soon after you left us to chase those Danishmend Turks. Do you realize that Armenian castles stretch all the way from the mountains nearly to Antioch? Well, at a place called Coxon, just on the far side of the mountains, we picked up an Armenian rumour that the Turks were fleeing from Antioch. We believed it. The Turks are so scared that they didn’t hold Iconium. They might very well be too frightened to hold Antioch. It was important to put in a garrison before the Turks got back their courage. Raymond offered to send ahead a few hundred of his best-mounted knights, and follow more slowly with his main army. We were all glad to let him go, because we wanted to help our waggons over the pass. Raymond’s men know all about mountaineering after their troubles in Sclavonia. But the rumour turned out to be false, as you must have guessed. The Turks are not fleeing from Antioch. On the contrary, they are gathering supplies and reinforcements in preparation for a long siege. Raymond’s knights advanced until they bumped into the Turkish pickets. Then they halted in a comfortable Armenian castle. Raymond has joined them. In a few days we shall join him. Do you think we shall have any trouble in taking Antioch? Everyone says you are the great expert on Greek fortresses.”
“It’s supposed to be a very strong place. Less than twenty years ago the Greeks held it, and they must have a record of its defences. I shall ask Taticius. I suppose Count Raymond went forward with his own men? He didn’t lead a mixed force, with knights from other followings?”
Count Bohemond Page 17
