by Jack Ludlow
‘For you see, you Norman devil, the Byzantine Emperor does not lack wits to match yours.’
The boats had to be loaded on the Galatea side of the Bosphorus and that meant breaking up the biggest crane from the capital’s docks and shipping it across, a demand from Manuel Boutoumites that mightily upset the traders who used it to load their merchant vessels. Mollified with gold – the fishermen had needed to be bribed as well to prevent a riot – it was barely strong enough to bear a boat fresh out of the water and threatened to break, so days were wasted with them drawn up on the shore to dry out their timbers.
Once loaded and before they could be moved, the reverse had to occur: the innards had to be filled with water to reseal the planking and then that had to be bailed out so the oxen could move their specially strengthened carts, the cargo covered with canvas to hide them from the kind of prying eyes that would send a warning to Kilij Arslan, lurking somewhere to the east and licking his wounds, for he would certainly alert Acip Bey.
The road had been repaired but not for such wagons as these. Men had to work ahead, filling in depressions and clearing stones, and when it came to an incline double teams had to be harnessed together to get them up the slope, and to that was added sweating and straining human endeavour. This was made worse when they reached the passes through the mountains, where they could only ascend one at a time, with every beast and man employed and stakes used to secure the rear of the wheels at each small turn. The only one spared this was Manuel Boutoumites, sat on his magnificent horse, who earned much hatred and many whispered insults for his continual shouted exhortations to put in greater effort.
Descent was not without its hazards either, the need to keep the carts in line with the oxen paramount, for if they slipped to the side the whole would topple, which would certainly smash the boats and probably break the backs of the still harnessed animals. Up ahead were the impatient Crusader leaders, who knew the boats were coming and now were far from sceptical, quite the reverse – they were now seen as a salvation that would rid them of the need to assault the walls.
When they were close, the ‘princes’ rode out to meet the Curopalates, Bohemund in particular eager that such a weapon should not appear at a time when the garrison could observe their arrival. They stopped on the reverse side of the final hill and it was there that the Norman was apprised of the addition Alexius had made, four times as many banners as the vessels would have carried normally, all in the colours of the various lords who led the Crusade.
‘His Highness believes that, at a distance, the Turks will see them and think the boats to be of a greater beam than in truth they are, thus carrying more men.’
‘Clever,’ Bohemund acknowledged, but he had a sting to administer as well. ‘What a pity he did not see fit to take part in the siege and give us the benefit of his intelligence earlier.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The boats were brought through the encampment at dusk, which fell to darkness so that again a twin line of torches had to be deployed, then taken along the lakeside, far enough to be launched well out of sight of the towers of Nicaea. Getting them into the water was accomplished at dawn by the simple expedient of using a slope and backing the carts into Lake Askanian until the boats floated free, the men set to man them sent aboard to become accustomed to rowing and manoeuvring them prior to them being employed.
Naturally every leader was keen for his men to take part, though that was not always welcome to the people they led, many of whom were confirmed landsmen. Again in this the Normans came to the fore; amongst their numbers were men who, like the de Hautevilles, had been raised in the Contentin, on the shores of the great ocean, and had fished for food and jumped the waves from a young age. Others resided along the banks of the River Seine and had kept alive the skills of their Viking predecessors when it came to boat handling.
Baldwin of Boulogne recruited men from those parts of his brother’s Duchy of Lower Lorraine that came from the many lakes that dotted his domains. Vermandois too had men from towns that sat on rivers and so did Robert of Flanders, though it was he who had the most difficulty in manning his craft and the reason was prior experience. On departing Bari, one of the ships carrying his knights had literally split in half down its keel, sending to the bottom all who had sailed in her. That memory lingered, making his men, brave as they were, reluctant to risk anything that included water.
The other possibility, which had to be covered, was fighting; if none of the Crusaders had observed Manual Boutoumites refer to the possibility of capsizing to his Emperor, all knew it to be a risk. Exercises had to be carried out in water shallow enough for the Crusaders to survive their mistakes, like too many trying to stand up and making their craft unstable, albeit they had to endure, when they were drenched and struggling through the water, the jests and cries from those watching. In the end it was established that in a boat holding ten knights, only four could really engage in aggressive combat at any one time, while to go from standing to sitting or the reverse was a hard skill to master. The other matter was even more important: now that they had them, how were they to be employed?
‘These are not vessels from which we can mount an assault.’
Such an opinion, advanced by de Bouillon, was so obvious as to not require any vocal agreement.
‘Surely we must set up a blockade,’ Vermandois suggested. ‘A line of boats across the lake that cuts them off from their supplies and means that it is a true siege.’
Tancred asked for permission to speak and that was granted. ‘I think the Emperor Alexius had something else in mind.’
‘What?’ the Frenchman demanded. ‘Given he is not present.’
‘The key to Nicaea is the spirit of Acip Bey and the men he leads.’ That got a questioning look from Vermandois of the kind that implied, ‘So?’
‘They feel so secure because they have that one open side to their walls, it makes them certain the siege can never succeed and so it has proved in the past, as Tacitus pointed out.’
Robert of Normandy posed the next question. ‘You think the loss of such will break their spirit?’
‘I think it may persuade them that the time has come to seek terms.’
Raymond was scathing. ‘You wish to offer them terms after what we have suffered these last weeks?’
That got raised eyebrows. Suspecting that his nephew would not wish to dispute with such a powerful figure, Bohemund came to his aid. ‘How many more do we wish to spend here, for even if we invest the watergate and cut off future supplies the Turks are, of this moment, sitting on full storehouses?’
‘And we have not come all this way,’ de Bouillon added, obviously seeing the sense of what was being proposed, ‘to spend a year or more taking Nicaea.’
‘You have a suggestion, Count Bohemund?’ asked Adémar.
‘I think my nephew has, with your permission.’
With every eye upon him, Tancred nodded and explained his thinking, which had much to do with the many banners supplied by Alexius, and once that was outlined the sense of it was so obvious that his plan was put to the vote and given approval.
The primary task, given to those most able to quickly master the necessary waterman skills, was to mount patrols that would cut off Nicaea from its customary supply. In addition to that, the siege had to be pressed harder to prevent any news of the acquisition of the boats getting in through the gates, in short, the way the city was invested had to be pressed to the maximum, with nightly patrols set to catch anyone seeking to enter or leave by land.
Added to that, the main inlet in which the boats were berthed was rendered invisible from the water, which meant much cutting of reed beds to create a camouflage behind which they could sit unseen. The habits of the Turkish boatmen had to be studied, for it seemed to Tancred, if they left men in the city, it must be the same boat people who returned with their craft every time and he was soon proved to be both correct, which was encouraging.
Being unaware of what they might
face, the Turkish siege-breakers were not given to taking precautions; one or two quite large boats came down the lake in daylight, rowing if the wind was against them, usually in the late afternoon, so they could make the watergate as dusk was falling, that obviously held to be the safest time. Also, being in the main concerned with the supply of food, they carried more cargo than fighting men, whatever number of those being left behind, it being easier to row an empty vessel than a fully loaded one.
Tancred sent two boats down the lake to prevent them reaching Nicaea and another pair were launched behind them as they sailed past the inlet, thus catching them between pincers, which proved absurdly easy. Never having seen a waterborne enemy they assumed everything they saw to be friendly until it was too late to avoid capture, and as soon as they saw the armed men on board they attempted flight, only to row into the arms of the vessels Tancred had sent out to close the trap.
That led to surrender, for if there were fighters aboard they were few and with unsuitable weapons to fight lances and Western swords, while the boatmen were not willing to bleed in a trade for which they were no doubt being well rewarded. Soon the creek was filling up on a daily basis with more captures, which meant more vessels the Crusaders could man.
‘And as a bonus, Uncle, we can eat that which was destined for the city.’
‘How long do you intend this should last?’
‘As long as it needs to,’ Tancred replied, slightly put out by the tone.
‘The question was raised at a council today.’
‘Let me guess – by Vermandois.’
‘If he brought it up, he was not alone in wondering.’
‘You?’
‘I made your case, Tancred,’ Bohemund growled. ‘I reminded them that having given you the task they must bow to your judgement as to how long it should proceed.’
‘Forgive me.’
‘But I am telling you that is a position I will find increasingly hard to maintain.’
‘Would I be allowed to show you something?’
‘Of course, as long as it is of interest.’
Tancred called for their horses and once mounted he led his uncle to a point on the lakeside from which they could observe the watergate and the whole east wall of Nicaea. ‘Look at the towers above.’
‘Yes,’ Bohemund said, ‘they are manned, and poorly so, but what of it?’
‘Acip Bey has no need to concern himself with this eastern wall because he knows it to be secure, but observe more closely and you may see the men up there are acting as lookouts, not defenders. Their eyes are fixed upon the lake and they are wondering what has happened to their supplies and reinforcements.’
The older man smiled. ‘No doubt you are so far inside their minds that you know that too.’
‘The plan agreed is working. They must suspect that something has prevented Kilij Arslan from keeping the flow coming, but they will be hoping it is a temporary break not a complete one. Yet the mere loss must affect the thinking of Acip Bey as well as his men, for such a lack cannot be kept hidden and it will be the cause of concern. Let that last for another week and then we will have them.’
‘You’re certain?’
‘Do I have to tell you, Uncle,’ Tancred hooted with a grin, ‘nothing is certain in war.’
‘A week?’
‘If you can manage it and if the men of the council doubt we are succeeding, tell them to come down to the lake at dusk and eye that tower above the watergate, for that is when it gets ever more crowded as one day succeeds the next.’
Bohemund only passed that on to Bishop Adémar, knowing that if he stood against general opinion Tancred’s wish for time would not be overturned and, in truth, he could understand the impatience of his peers. That evaporated when he saw what his nephew had hinted at, and it so impressed Adémar that all doubts were allayed. The tower went from having a few guards upon to being crowded as dusk fell, the shadows of those standing there eventually cast long across the lake as the sun set at their backs.
They paid no attention to those watching them or to any activity in the siege lines that were visible, all eyes were looking east, and it was almost palpable the hopes that they harboured: the sight of a boat or two carrying that regular supply of food and men that had allowed them to laugh at the infidels.
Tancred got his week and used it well, able to inform the council that he was about to put the next part of his plan in place on the following day. The launching of the boats was different this time; not only were they all to be employed but they were each and every one festooned with the banners of the Crusade leaders, several to each craft, and luckily there was wind enough blowing to cause them to show their devices plain: the red background to the blue and white chequer of the de Hautevilles, de Bouillon having the same in red and white on a yellow base; the blue shield of Vermandois dotted with yellow fleurs-de-lis; red shields for Normandy and Toulouse, only differing in the two lions for the former and an elaborate golden cross for the latter; while in the lead vessel and at the prow flew the blue device of the papal legate, Adémar de Monteil, Bishop of Puy, decorated with an image of the Virgin.
None of those who held those banners as a sign of their position were present, the whole enterprise being led by Tancred. They had taken up a position on the lakeside in clear sight of that wall they had so longed to invest, no part more than the tower that sat above the recessed watergate. There was no sight of the boats bearing their men – they were too distant to be seen even from the walls of Nicaea, but that soon changed.
First a sharp-eyed sentinel, unsure if what he was seeing was true, climbed from the parapet onto the battlements and peered into the distance, his call to his fellows unheard but the gesture with it plain. Within seconds the man had jumped down and disappeared, but it was not long before the top of the tower began to fill with bodies and that continued until it was crowded, and somehow they could guess that Acip Bey was amongst their number. It only took one to cheer for the rest to join in and soon their loud acclamation was echoing across the water.
‘They think the boats are Turkish,’ Vermandois said, obviously surprised, an indication that he had scant belief in Tancred’s plan.
‘Then,’ Bishop Adémar replied, ‘so much greater the shock.’
The cheering lasted for what seemed an age, evidence of just how much anxiety had been built up by the lack of their regular supply and it would not be just for what they carried. Those supply boats were a lifeline to their Sultan and their prophet, an assurance that whatever was thrown against their walls they could hold the city and deny it to the infidel. The cheering slowly weakened and finally died, for the devices on those billowing banners had begun to become visible and that told them that the impossible had occurred: the besiegers had a war fleet on the lake.
Part of Tancred’s plan was that the boats should not come close, but should sail to and fro so far out of view as to disguise their size and numbers, far enough away to make the defenders think that every banner represented an individual vessel, and the success of that ploy came with the wailing that replaced the lost cheering, a ghoulish sound from hundreds of throats that brought forth from Bohemund words he had been hoping he would be able to employ.
‘I think it might be time for the Emperor’s Curopalates to offer Acip Bey terms once more.’
For a third time Manuel Boutoumites passed through the main gate of Nicaea, watched by a crusading host near to holding its breath, and it was an indication of how changed circumstances had become that he re-emerged within half a day. Abject surrender was not possible and in truth it had never been sought; Kilij Arslan’s family would be safe, respected and returned to him, the garrison could also march out to rejoin their Sultan with their weapons, the only thing which must be left behind being Arslan’s treasury, for without his chests of gold and silver he would be hard put to raise the kind of forces that would pose a threat to the Eastern Empire, whose troops would now occupy the city.
‘When do we march
in?’ asked Tancred.
‘We don’t,’ his uncle replied. ‘This is going to be a triumph for Byzantium, not the Crusade.’
‘It was by our efforts it fell.’
‘And it is Tacitus and Boutoumites who will take possession for Alexius. Thus we have fulfilled one part of the vow we took on coming here, to aid Byzantium in throwing back the Turk.’
‘I cannot believe you agreed to this.’
‘But I did, for there was no point in standing against it. How many times have I said to you that our confrères do not understand Byzantium? The likes of Adémar accedes to this through his office as Pope Urban’s legate, the others because they wish to be seen fulfilling the pledge they made to Alexius. Both the city and Arslan’s treasury will come back under imperial control and we must wait to see what the Emperor thinks of our efforts and what rewards we will receive for them.’
‘So Tacitus, the man who does least, gains most.’
‘I should think he has spent the morning polishing his nose.’
It was late afternoon before Tacitus led his two thousand men into Nicaea to accept the surrender and not much longer after that Acip Bey led his Turks out through silent ranks of the crusading host. It was a testimony to the grip that both the leaders and their purpose had on these men that they acquiesced in what was taking place, for there was not a fighter amongst them who did not serve for plunder and there before them, and they were barred from entry, was a rich city at their mercy.
