God's Warrior

by Hilary Green

  8.

  Not many days later Ranulph was returning to his tent from washing in the river when the ground beneath his feet began to shudder. For a moment he hoped that sappers had undermined part of the city walls and they were collapsing, but his eyes told him otherwise. The shaking grew worse, so that he lost his balance and fell to his knees. There was a terrible noise, as if the rocks beneath his feet were being ground together, or thunder had fallen from the sky and become trapped in the earth. Behind him he heard Fernando screaming with terror and Marc came scrambling out of the tent just as the whole thing collapsed. The terror passed in a moment and Ranulph staggered to his feet. All round the camp men and women were on their knees, wailing and praying.

  ‘Help me!’ Ranulph shouted and between them they managed to haul the canvas off and found Aymar and Dino unhurt but sobbing with fear.

  With a struggle they succeeded in re-erecting the tent and huddled together, murmuring psalms and waiting for the next shock, but none came and finally sleep overcame them all.

  Next morning a proclamation was issued and the message carried throughout the host by the priests. It had been concluded that the earthquake and the rain and the other misfortunes which had befallen them were the result of God’s anger. Bishop Adhemar decreed that they had sinned against God’s holy laws and must do penance. In particular they had fornicated with the loose women in the camp. So all women were to be expelled immediately from the camp and forbidden to return. There would be a three-day fast, all must confess themselves, they must shave their beards and process bare foot in front of the city walls.

  ‘A three day fast – for men already half starved?’ Ranulph muttered. ‘Is that truly what God requires?’

  ‘Hush!’ Marc responded. ‘Do you want to be accused of heresy?’

  Adhemar’s edict was carried out to the letter. A procession of haggard and filthy men wound its way around the walls, led by priests bearing crosses and holy relics, singing psalms and praying aloud for forgiveness.

  It seemed it was not enough. A new scourge struck the weakened Christians. Coughs and running noses had been common ever since the bad weather started but now they were followed by violent headaches, agonising pains in the back and belly, a rash that covered the whole body and ultimately raging fever and delirium. Very few survived and the infection spread with terrifying speed.

  Ever since his release from the galleys, Ranulph had been haunted by the memory of the dirt and squalor he had endured. He had embraced the comforts of the Arab hamman and been a regular visitor during his years on Sicily. Since leaving with Bohemond he had taken every opportunity to wash himself, a habit which the other knights viewed with amusement tinged with suspicion. Even in the bitter winter weather they were now enduring he forced himself to plunge into the river after exercise or battle. He had persuaded Marc to emulate him, though his ablutions were less frequent, and insisted that Aymar and Dino follow suit. Even Fernando had been dragooned into some form of compliance. He had also instituted a habit of combing through each other’s hair to search for lice and had concocted a foul smelling ointment to rub into their scalps to repel the creatures. When the plague came Fernando hung cloves of garlic about his neck, while Marc and Aymar preferred the protection of a crucifix. No one could say which method was the most effective, but the infection spared those who shared Ranulph’s tent. His interest in herbs and unguents had always been regarded with some suspicion and now rumours began to spread that he was dabbling in witchcraft. He suspected that, if they did not originate with Tancred, he was instrumental in propagating them.

  One day, hauling himself out of the water after his habitual plunge, he noticed two of Tancred’s knights watching him and nudging each other. He ignored them and pulled on his clothes. The next day, Dino came back from grooming Brand with a black eye and a cut lip. He tried to hide his face but Ranulph took him by the shoulders and turned him round.

  ‘Have you been fighting?’

  The boy squirmed and nodded reluctantly.

  ‘Who with?’

  ‘It was nothing.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Two of Tancred’s pages.’

  ‘I see. Did they attack you?’

  ‘No. I started it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They were laughing, insulting you, sir. ‘

  ‘Insulting me? How?’

  ‘They called you the English galley slave, and the Moors’ whipping boy. I could not let it pass.’

  Ranulph sighed. ‘So you fought for my honour. It was nobly done. But listen, Dino. It is well known that I served in the galleys and bear the scars. You have seen them yourself often enough. I do not seek to hide it and I am not ashamed. If Tancred’s boys choose to laugh at another man’s suffering, that shows them to be as foolish as their lord. There is no need for you to avenge insults from such varlets. I thank you, but I would not see you suffer for so slight a thing. So no more fighting. Now, come here and let me put some salve on those bruises.’

  Soon reports came in of another force advancing towards Antioch. This one was under the command of Ridwan of Aleppo, who had already seized the fortress of Haram, which commanded the main road to the south. With their forces depleted by sickness and injury it seemed impossible to meet him in open combat. The council decided on surprise tactics. To reach the city the enemy forces must cross the bridge over the Orontes. Seven hundred knights, under the command of Bohemond, with Stephen and Robert of Flanders, left the camp under cover of darkness. Stephen and Robert took up positions, concealed among the bushes lining the river, holding their hands over their horses’ noses to prevent them from whinnying, while Bohemond’s knights held the road beyond the bridge. As the first Turkish forces set foot on the bridge Bohemond gave the order to charge. Taken by surprise, the Turks faltered and the Franks drove them back off the bridge. Then they heard trumpets and shouted commands and the Turks rallied around their commander and counter charged. The superior weight of numbers drove the Franks back and Ranulph found himself on a narrow spit of land between the river and a lake. In the confined space it was difficult to form any kind of defensive line and men and horses were milling about in confusion. It was at such moments that Bohemond showed himself a true leader. He rose in his stirrups and yelled at the top of his voice, ‘Follow me! Let us charge them at top speed, trusting in the power of the cross. For you know in truth that this is not a war of the flesh, but of the spirit.’

  Ranulph swung Brand round to face the advancing Turks and set his spurs to the stallion’s side. His companions rallied and galloped with him. Faced with a frantic charge of heavily armed men the Turks, who had been whooping in triumph, were driven into the river valley, where Stephen and Robert were waiting for them. Many were killed and the rest fled, leaving behind a treasure trove of weapons and gold. Next day scouts reported that they were heading back towards Aleppo. Bohemond was hailed as a hero, and not only by his own men. Word spread around the camps that if there were ever to be victory, it would be under his leadership.

  One morning the sentries reported a column of wagons heading up the road towards them. Riders were sent out to intercept them and brought the leader to Bohemond’s tent. He was a dark-faced man dressed in the Armenian fashion. He bowed to Bohemond and said, ‘My lord, we are merchants , but we are also Christians. We have heard that your army is much in need of food and you have found none in the vicinity. Therefore, we have scoured the villages and towns further off and have brought what stores we could obtain. Will you permit us to set up our stalls?’

  Permission was readily given and the merchants spread themselves around the various camps and set up stalls displaying a variety of produce. They were immediately mobbed, but almost as quickly men began to turn away, cursing. Ranulph, looking over the goods on offer, understood why. These men might be Christians in name, but their motives were not charity but profit . The prices of even the most basic items were exorbitant. A single walnut cost more than an ordinary soldier rece
ived for a day’s subsistence. Ranulph thanked God for the wealth he had amassed in his own days as a merchant, which he had husbanded carefully during the long journey. It meant he could buy enough to keep his small household from starvation and sufficient grain to keep Brand alive for a few more weeks at least. But he knew that if matters did not improve soon his money would run out.

  For those who could not afford to buy at inflated prices life was desperate indeed. Once the camp had been overrun with rats. Now a rat was a prize trophy; cats and dogs had disappeared long ago and men were stewing up the leather from shoes and belts to eat. One day, Ranulph even saw two men picking over the dung from one of the merchants’ horses, taking out the undigested grains and eating them. Desertions increased, in spite of an edict promising sever punishment for anyone caught. One of Bohemond’s followers, a man known as William the Carpenter, was caught by Tancred and dragged back. Tancred marched him into his uncle’s tent and threw him at his feet.

  ‘You are beneath contempt,’ Bohemond told him. ‘I will not even bother to punish you. You are rubbish, and like rubbish you can lie there until I get sick of the sight of you.’

  William lay on the floor of the tent for twenty-four hours before Bohemond finally kicked him out.

  Even Bohemond was running out of money to pay his troops. Ranulph was present at a bad tempered meeting of the council at which he threatened to abandon the siege and head for home. Stephen of Blois declared his intention of withdrawing to an area where living would be more comfortable and he was supported by Robert of Normandy, whose indolence and love of luxury were well known throughout the camp. It was Raymond of Toulouse who saved the expedition from disintegrating totally. He was by far the wealthiest of the princes and he agreed to pay Bohemond’s troops. Stephen and Robert, however, could not be dissuaded and declared their intention to withdraw to join Tatikios in Baghram.

  The mention of Tatikios provoked a storm of abuse from the remaining leaders. ‘He sits there, in Baghram, eating and drinking his fill, and waiting for us to hand Antioch back to his emperor,’ Bohemond growled. ‘Alexios has forsaken us, in spite of his oath. He has not come with his army to assist us, nor does he send us vital supplies. Why should we conquer cities for him?’

  Raymond quelled the growing hubbub. ‘My lord Bohemond speaks with some reason. We should at least expect the emperor to keep us supplied with food. Let us summon Tatikios and ask him to intercede for us with Alexios. Perhaps the emperor does not know to what state we have been reduced.’

  Tatikios came, as requested, and readily agreed to return to Constantinople to plead their case with the emperor. Too readily, in Bohemond’s opinion.

  ‘I don’t trust that man,’ he confided to Ranulph as they left Raymond’s tent. ‘There is no knowing what tale he will give the emperor when he gets back. And I wouldn’t put it past Stephen and Robert to be conspiring with him to tell Alexios there’s no hope of victory and we might as well give up.’ He stopped suddenly and turned to face Ranulph. ‘I want you to go with him. We can make some excuse, tell him I have sent you with a personal message to emperor. Find out what he says, and what Alexios is thinking – and make sure Tatikios comes back with plenty of supplies. We don’t just need food. We need wood to build siege engines, and new horses.’

  ‘And if Tatikios doesn’t come back?’ Ranulph asked.

  ‘Then we shall know for certain that Alexios has forsaken us and we owe him no further allegiance.’

  ‘And me …? How am I to get back?’

  Bohemond clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You’ll think of a way!’

  ‘You are not worried that I might just decide to go home?’

  The count held his gaze for a moment.’No, I’m not. I know you for a faithful soldier of Christ. You will come back.’

  Ranulph embarked with Tatikios and his men at the port of Sudi. The Byzantine did not appear to find his request to be allowed to travel with him strange and treated him affably on the voyage. Ranulph was disturbed, however, to learn that they were to stop in Cyprus. That island held only bad memories for him. It was the home of the woman whose implacable enmity had sent him to the galleys and deprived him of the chance of happiness with the woman he loved. He had no idea whether she still remembered him – he suspected she would never forget – or even if she was still alive; but he had no wish to encounter her. If she thought he had succumbed to the fate of most men condemned to the galleys, death from exhaustion and ill treatment, so much the better. To his relief, they spent only one night on the island, just long enough to rest the oarsmen and take on water, and for Tatikios to ride to the capital to pay his respects to Philocales, the strategos who ruled it on behalf of the emperor. The journey from there to Constantinople was accomplished so quickly that Ranulph found it hard to believe that it had taken so many months to travel overland from there to Antioch. Once in the city he began to realise fully the difficulty of the task with which Bohemond had entrusted him. He was greeted courteously and given a room in the palace, but his requests for an audience with the emperor were put aside with murmured excuses. The emperor was much engaged with matters of state, and with entertaining important visitors. It was made clear, gently but firmly, that he did not fall into that category.

  After kicking his heels for two days Ranulph found his way to the Varangians’ mess room in search of Leofric. His one time captain greeted him with a typically sardonic lift of his eyebrows.

  ‘You’re still alive, then? I thought we’d seen the last of you.’

  Ranulph grinned. ‘You don’t get rid of me that easily.’

  ‘Easy? What have you been doing these last months, then? Lolling around on silken couches sipping sherbet?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ he responded dryly.

  ‘No, I thought not. Come on then. Let’s have the full story.’

  Ranulph had to recount in detail everything that had befallen him since the Frankish army set out from Constantinople. When he had finally exhausted Leofric’s questions he came to the point. ‘I am here with a message for the emperor, but I cannot gain an audience with him. When I was here before you took me to meet the Lady Anna Comnena and I had several conversations with her after that. Do you think it would be possible for me to see her again?’

  Leofric winked. ‘Leave it to me. I’ll come and find you as soon as I can fix a time.’

  It was the following morning when the Varangian commander sought Ranulph out and led him up to the women’s quarters. Anna Comnena was engaged as she had been when he first met her, in copying a manuscript, and as before she dismissed her ladies and beckoned him to a seat. Once again he had to tell the story of the expeditions triumphs and trials, though he had the impression that she was already well informed. When he had finished she asked him why he had been sent and what message he had for her father.

  ‘It is a delicate matter, Highness,’ he began cautiously. ‘As I have told you, the army of the Franks is in desperate straits outside Antioch for want of food and other necessities. Lord Tatikios promised to plead our case with the emperor and to return with supplies, but my lord Bohemond is worried that he will tell the emperor that there is no hope of regaining the city. He seemed to have very little faith that it could be done. I was tasked to find out what he has said and to assure His Excellency that victory can be ours and Antioch can be returned to his rule, if only he will continue to support us. It may be that Lord Tatikios has told him exactly that, but I have no way of knowing. Will you beg your father to give me a few minutes of his time, so that I can make sure that he has been given all the facts?’

  The sharp, dark eyes studied him for a moment. Then Anna said, ‘Very well. I will speak to my father and find out what has been said. Come tomorrow at the same time and I will give you his answer.’

  Next day she greeted him with a frown and kept him standing. ‘It is not as you told me. Tatikios has brought a very different message. The Counts, he says, have decided that the emperor has no intention of aiding them furth
er, that he has broken his oath to them, and they are furiously angry. So much so that they intend to assassinate him.’

  ‘Assassinate! My lady, there is no such plot.’

  She gave him an austere look. ‘Then why should Tatikios, who is my father’s closest adviser, concoct such a story?’

  Ranulph chewed his lip, struggling to make sense of what he had heard. Then understanding dawned. ‘It may well be that he has brought the message in good faith. I think it is a story that has been fed to him by others within the army.’

  ‘By whom?’

  ‘Most probably by Lord Stephen of Blois.’

  ‘Why should he make up such a tale?’

  ‘He has been discontented with the progress of the war for a long time. From the start I think he felt that he should be the acknowledged leader, because of his close relationship with William the … ‘ he thought better of the usual appellation that came to his lips ‘William of Normandy. Also, I believe he thought that the war would be over much sooner and without so much suffering. He believed that after the initial defeat the Turks would give up and let us march unimpeded to Jerusalem. Since we have laid siege to Antioch he has found the conditions unendurable. I think he hopes that he can persuade the other princes to give up and return home. If he can make the emperor believe that the princes have renounced their allegiance and mean him ill, so that he will withdraw his support, it will be impossible to continue with our mission. That way, he can return home without being branded a coward and a renegade for abandoning the attempt.’

  She regarded him for a long moment. ‘You would swear to the truth of this?’

  ‘I cannot swear that what I have said about Stephen is the truth. It is only conjecture. But I will swear on the holiest relic you can produce that the counts have no ill intention towards his excellency the emperor. I beg you, my lady, persuade your father to grant me an audience so that I can convince him of that.’