The Lady for Ransom

by Alfred Duggan

  ‘Nonsense, young Roger. Until I am widowed my first duty is to my husband, and he’s got out of worse fixes. But thanks for reminding me that the whole band looks to me for protection. I shall see you in an hour. Tell the Roman commander I speak fluent Greek, and expect a private interview.’

  I went back and told Alexius that my lady was ready to treat; but I did not pass on her last message, for her Greek was not really as perfect as she supposed.

  While we waited the Domestic chatted pleasantly; he is a charming companion; he may have thought I had more influence than in fact I possessed, but it may have been only that he never neglects the chance of gaining a friend. In marching so far with his small force he had performed a very gallant exploit, but he did not boast of it; all he said was that the Emperor had ordered him to restore Roman authority in Amasia, and of course whatever the Emperor commanded had to be done, even if it was very difficult. Most of the time he was apologising for having captured Messer Roussel by bribery; but he pointed out that all the treachery had been shown by the Turks; he could not refuse what Tutach offered to sell, and all our misfortunes had been caused because we were careless in our selection of Turkish hostages. I think Alexius has the inclinations of a gallant knight; but he is also a patriotic Roman, and now that he has no force behind him he will continue the struggle by any means, fair or foul.

  When my lady appeared it was evident that she had occupied the delay in dressing herself as the lord of a strong castle. She wore a Frankish gown, and a big bunch of keys on her right hip was balanced by a heavy broadsword; above her kerchief was a little steel cap, and she rode the best warhorse in Amasia. She brought no attendants, save a Frankish groom to hold her horse.

  The official tent of the Domestic had been erected in the market-place; within it Alexius sat on his ceremonial stool, with several officers in attendance. I also was there, and though I was not called on to translate I heard all that passed.

  My lady began by complaining that she had stipulated for a private interview; but on this point Alexius was firm. ‘You, madam, are an independent sovereign,’ he said with a bow, ‘and your treaties need no ratification by a superior. But I am a servant of the Emperor, with the added difficulty that some years ago my uncle held the Purple. These gentlemen are not here to spy on you, but on me. If you wish to treat you must put up with their presence.’

  ‘You mean you will not follow the example of the Caesar? Well, I don’t blame you; it brought him no luck. But you would make a better Emperor than that silly Michael. I hope for the sake of Romania you have a try at it one day.’ My lady smiled politely, as though this was only social gossip; but it was a clever opening, for it made Alexius uncomfortable.

  ‘Well then,’ she continued, ‘let’s get to business. You hold my husband, and at present he is unwounded and in good health, for I have seen him. When you set him free I shall render to you the castle of Amasia, my followers will disperse, and my lord, with not more than ten servants, will ride east to some castle of Armenia. If that suits you we can begin to arrange hostages for fulfilment.’

  ‘I’m sorry, madam, but I rode here for no other reason than to bring Roussel before the Emperor,’ answered Alexius. ‘There is not enough gold in the world to buy his freedom.’

  ‘I didn’t think there was,’ my lady said calmly. ‘But there was a chance, and it was my duty to try it. Very well. Messer Roussel remains a prisoner. In that case all you have to do is storm the castle. Of course the Turks may attack while we fight, but you took that into consideration when you refused my offer.’

  ‘My lady, I cannot do anything for the accomplice of John Ducas.

  But that still leaves room for a treaty. If you yield the citadel I promise that you and your children will be safe.’

  ‘That’s no sort of offer, young man, and you know it,’ Matilda answered briskly. ‘My children and I have never been safe, and we don’t wish to be. Noble Franks seek power, not safety. When you assault the citadel I may not be able to hold it, but if we charge your line no Roman soldiers could stop us. There are Armenian castles which will take us in.’

  ‘Then, are you say, madam, the war continues. You may return to your castle, but when the gate closes I shall bring up my engines. You might cut a way through my lines; I know Franks are formidable in the charge. But remember Tutach. You hanged his hostages; he will catch you before you reach Armenia.’

  Now it was my lady’s turn to falter; the thought of her daughter in the Turkish camp was more than she could bear.

  ‘Wait, my lord Domestic,’ she said, for the first time addressing him with the respect his position demanded. ‘We are both in a sad fix. My followers are demoralised, and I can’t trust them to man the battlements. But you also are in danger. While we argue Tutach may overwhelm us both. It is my duty to remain with my husband, and I would rather live in the city than anywhere on earth; but I won’t arrive there a penniless refugee; better the mountains of Armenia. If the Emperor would give me a decent maintenance, so that I can live like a lady in some respectable convent, then I shall advise my followers to lay down their arms.’

  ‘My dear lady,’ Alexius said with a courtly smile, ‘I cannot promise money in the name of the Emperor. That is the business of the Treasurer, and anyway the Treasury is empty. But I want to get this business cleared up. I shall myself support you in the city, in a manner befitting your courage and nobility. Will you yield your castle, and live in the city as my guest?’

  My lady looked steadily into his face, and nodded. ‘To you I yield, my lord,’ she said formally, and then continued in the casual tone she used for social affairs. ‘We shall be entirely at your mercy. It’s the sort of agreement that calls for oaths, and hostages, and silver deposited in some holy shrine as guarantee. I’m not asking for that, and you could hardly give it. But you have made a solemn promise before witnesses, and I trust the honour of Comnenus. Your men will be more comfortable in the citadel; if you ride up now we shall be in time for dinner.’

  An hour later we were all dining in the great hall of the castle. It was an odd party. My lord wore a bronze ring on his ankle, a symbol rather than an impediment; Alexius explained that he had been commanded to keep him in fetters, and this was just enough to enable him to swear truthfully that he had carried out his orders. The new lord of the castle sat between his prisoner and his prisoner’s wife, chatting amicably to both. Nearby were the three children, nine-year-old Joan using a Roman eating-prong and talking politely about the errors of Italus the Frank, who was unsound in theology, but had received the Imperial appointment of Hypatus of the Philosophers; she might have been a young Roman lady, released from the schoolroom to entertain distinguished visitors. The two boys were more rough; though they also spoke Greek, and could discuss the subjects which interest educated Romans. At the other tables Frankish knights, interspersed with Roman officers, stumbled in their few words of Greek to inquire about pay and prospects in the Roman army. We were all very friendly. Most Franks were relieved that the great adventure was ended. It would have been a wonderful exploit to found a Frankish state so far away, in this desert of infidels; but it was a very difficult and dangerous undertaking. Now we could relax, and the next time we charged it would be at the orders of a cautious Roman commander who never fought unless the odds were on his side.

  I did not propose to join the Roman army. I am not really a warrior, and already in those days I was beginning to feel that slaughter and pillage are not so attractive in fact as they are in the ancient poems. When the meal was finished I left my place and knelt before the Domestic. I addressed him in my best Greek, giving the proper titles of respect; these are very complicated, varying not only with the post held by the great man but also with the quite independent system of honorary court rank; many native Romans cannot get them right, but I had just been coached by my neighbour. I said that Messer Roussel was a very great man, accustomed to being waited on since his childhood; if he was to ride on a long journey, and then f
ace the Emperor for judgement, it might make a difference if he was in good health and fit to speak in his own defence; he needed a servant who could speak his own language, and translate into Greek anything that must be said. If I was permitted to travel as his attendant I would swear, by any oath they might impose, never to bear arms against Romania.

  Alexius considered. Then he looked up and said: ‘I was told the Frankopole had released his oathbound companions. Do you still regard yourself as his man? I understand the theory of these Frankish customs.’

  ‘No, your splendid excellency,’ I answered, pleased that he had referred to my lord by his title; it showed that he was regarded as a soldier who happened to have been in rebellion, not a barbarian invader; and the Romans are normally lenient to rebels. ‘No, Messer Roussel has no followers, according to the customs of the Franks. He dismissed us from his service when he lost his freedom. But the Frankopole befriended me when I was a helpless orphan; and it would be unseemly if such a great warrior had no one to run his errands while he is merely a prisoner of state, not convicted of any crime.’

  ‘Very well,’ Alexius answered graciously. ‘While the Franko-pole is under arrest and unconvicted the Treasury would allow rations for one servant. I am glad to see fidelity in a Frank; your countrymen have a reputation for deserting the unsuccessful. But don’t delude yourself, because I now treat him with respect, that your leader has the slightest chance of acquittal. The best he can hope for is blindness and a monastery. Then what will you do? Take vows and follow him?’

  ‘I shall need someone to manage my stable,’ Matilda put in eagerly. ‘I would rather have a horse than a silk gown for Sundays. And I never get on with Roman grooms; they will starve a lady’s horse to keep it quiet. Young Roger can be my steward. A loyal Frank, who speaks good Greek, will be very useful to me.’

  ‘Oho, I see. The young man will not leave his lady,’ the Domestic said with that tiresome grin which people always wear when they think they are fostering an illicit love-affair. ‘But a man of such loyalty will keep his oath to the Emperor. No, you need not swear on holy relics. If your word is not enough you only insult the True Cross by false swearing. I choose to trust you as a man of honour. This Roger son of Odo will be noted on the ration-strength as personal servant to the prisoner, and when we reach the city he may join my other guests in the convent. There, that is settled.’

  All Romans like a friendly arrangement, if it can be made without loss of dignity. It was only common sense for Alexius to keep on good terms with the band who were now to enter his army. But there was more in it than that. The Domestic was in favour with his Emperor; but he had fallen from power before, and it might happen again. Alexius never lost a chance of winning an adherent, no matter how humble. In return he was himself a faithful friend, as the rest of this story will show.

  By the end of dinner we were all comrades. Messer Roussel faced a black future, and there was nothing we could do to save him; but he might have been killed in battle on any day of the week, and life goes on when your lord has fallen. We gave over all our mail and weapons, without concealing anything, and my lady helped the paymaster to check our treasure and divide it into packloads.

  The only people who were not satisfied with the new arrangement were the burgesses of Amasia. Either they were to be returned to the Empire, in which case nearly three years’ tribute would be due to the Treasury, or their defenders would march west leaving them a prey to the Turks; either prospect was extremely distasteful. As a matter of fact they were faced with both. That night the magnates of the town were summoned to the citadel and ordered to raise a very large sum of money at once, since the payment to Tutach had left the Domestic penniless; and as they left they could see we were preparing to evacuate. Romans are so accustomed to bullying provincials that the only public opinion they ever take into account is that of the turbulent mob in the city.

  The burgesses of Amasia had been manning their own wall for two years and more, and they were no longer mere fodder for the tax-gatherer. When the magnates descended to the town they called a meeting in the market-place, and all night we heard trumpets and saw watchfires. In the morning they sent the Bishop, a most unwilling envoy, to tell us the gates were closed and the streets barricaded, and that no one would be allowed to leave the citadel until Messer Roussel had been set at liberty. How they thought he could defend them without followers or money I don’t know; but burgesses get these irrational ideas in times of stress.

  I had passed the night in the little room where Messer Roussel was confined; it was not a dungeon, and we had plenty of blankets, for Alexius was fearful of my lord’s popularity and did not wish to excite sympathy on his behalf. In the morning I was allowed out, ostensibly to fetch water for washing; but my real mission was to learn the news, always the principal duty of a prisoner’s servant. I found the whole fortress in a state of alarm.

  The burgesses, under cover of darkness, had built a drystone wall opposite the gate; archers lay behind it, and we could not leave until they had been dislodged. Of course the troopers could cut a way through if they tried; but they feared the Franks might change sides again. In such a tricky situation any western leader would have murdered his prisoner; but that is not the Roman way. Such a murder would leave a lasting stain on the reputation of Alexius, and his men might refuse to carry out his orders.

  The deadlock lasted all morning. Just before dinner the Domestic visited his captive, and we were all driven out, guards and servants, while they conferred in private. Naturally I hoped they were making some friendly arrangement; an easy solution would be for my lord to escape. But when Alexius left, and I was permitted to bring in the dinner, I found Messer Roussel kneeling in prayer. He spoke over his shoulder: ‘Eat that yourself, little Roger. I shall fast. I am not hungry, and the physicians say fasting gives one a better chance of recovery after the operation. This afternoon I am to be blinded, in the presence of a deputation from the town. After seeing that they will not hinder our departure. They would have blinded me anyway when I reached the city, and Alexius has promised not to castrate me as well. That’s something. It’s very painful, but many Romans survive it. I am glad you offered to serve me; I shall need a body-servant until I have picked up the knack of dressing myself in the dark.’

  I was appalled; but I was also struck with admiration at the fortitude with which my lord faced his dreadful fate. Not wishing to weaken his resolution I rushed sobbing from the room.

  That afternoon a dozen of the chief men of Amasia were admitted to the citadel. The great hall was arranged as a tribunal, with the Domestic and his officers seated behind a table. All the garrison, Franks as well as Romans, were ranged round the walls, though Alexius had the decency to permit my lady and her children to remain praying in the chapel. When all was prepared, with the burgesses in the front row where they had a good view, I was despatched to bring in my lord. He was so weighted with fetters he could hardly walk, but he held his head high, and lay down on the table without assistance. The soldiers bound him firmly; but this was merciful, lest the hot iron should scar his face if he flinched.

  A farrier entered, bearing a glowing iron rod. This struck me as strange; my father was a smith, and I know how quickly iron cools when it is withdrawn from the forge. There was a fire in the hall; but for some reason the farrier preferred to use the regulation army brazier in the courtyard. I hoped the man knew his business, and would get it over at the first attempt; my lord, or any other man, would go mad with suspense if the rod had to be taken away and reheated.

  The Roman method of blinding does not bring hot iron into actual contact with the eyeball; if that happens, as it sometimes does when the Emperor secretly desires the death of the culprit, it leaves a ghastly open wound, which soon kills by gangrene (such had been the fate of Romanus Diogenes). The correct way of destroying sight without shortening life is to hold the iron very close; heat does the damage without bloodshed. So I did not expect a strong odour of roast flesh; al
l the same, I was slightly surprised that there was no smell at all. As the iron approached my lord uttered a great bellow of agony, and the spectators groaned in sympathy; one of our knights dashed forward and was knocked down by a guard. There was very nearly a riot, but we Franks were unarmed. When I looked again at the table the Roman physician (there is one attached to every band) was applying a linen bandage, which he wound over the victim’s head; my lord was silent, though his body shook with sobs, and the farrier was already on his way out. He carried the iron very carelessly, and I hoped he would burn himself, but he didn’t.

  That evening we marched. The burgesses did not hinder us, for like all Romans they are practical men who never brood over a setback but at once make the best of a new situation. Alexius had even compelled them to pay some of their tribute, threatening to break down the walls and leave them at Tutach’s mercy if they refused. The Bishop and most of the magnates marched with us, and those who remained were already preparing an embassy, offering the Turks a large blackmail if they kept away from the gates.

  We were a discontented and almost mutinous army. The Franks were now armed, for we needed all our strength; it was safe to arm us, for we had no leader. We mourned the great captain we had lost. Messer Roussel had not always led us to victory; a wiser chief would have stood a siege on Mount Sophon instead of galloping haphazard after those Turks; but there was no better lord in the world for courage and constancy and kindness to his followers. The Roman troopers also were angry. The Domestic could not conceal from them that he was leaving Amasia to the Turks, and they grumbled that the only result of the campaign had been to weaken the already precarious Christian cause. They had made a dangerous expedition only to remove a Christian garrison from a Roman town. They said openly that Alexius should have been content with a nominal promise of allegiance, which could have been easily obtained, instead of blinding a great warrior when every warrior was needed. All complained, and those who guarded the curtained litter which bore my lord could not be restrained from expressions of sympathy.