The Lady for Ransom

by Alfred Duggan

  I marched on foot, leading the foremost mule of the litter to save my lord from the roughness of the road. No one might see him, but I was in call if he needed me, and the physician had promised that in a few days, when the bandage could be removed, I should do it. Matilda and the children rode apart; when I blamed her neglect of her husband I was told my lord had sent word he wished to be left in silence; the physician added that it would help his recovery, but I thought Matilda should have stayed with him all the same.

  From Amasia to the Halys the land paid blackmail to the Six Horsetails, and Alexius had arranged safe passage; I believe he gave a small sum of money to ratify the bargain, but we had not really bought our way through; it was rather that Tutach knew we were poor and well armed, and was glad to see the backs of the last Christian warriors who had disputed what was now his fief. But west of the river lay the pastures of another infidel horde, the Children of Kutlumush. When we encamped on the bank the Domestic sent a slave of Turkish blood to see if he could make a treaty with them, but after dark a barbarian threw into our camp the head and genitals of our envoy, as a sign that they never made terms with Romans. Our little column of eight hundred men, cumbered with women and children, could not fight a way through. There was nothing for it but to leave the great road, striking north through the hills of the Galatians. We sacked a village, because otherwise we would have starved; but Alexius hated it, and his men were unwilling. Romans dislike pillage, and think a really good general should gain his ends by manoeuvre without fighting. It would be pleasant if that were possible, but we live in a fallen world.

  After only two days in the hills we continued northward to the coast; this was beginning to be infested with little parties of raiding Turks, but they had not yet crossed the hills in force, and the surviving farmers were glad to sell us supplies. Alexius paid cash, and with money the peasants could make a fresh start in Europe or the Caucasus, instead of waiting helplessly by their barns for Turks to come and cut their throats.

  Alexius was a good officer; he wished to gain the confidence of his new mercenaries, and he spent most of his time riding up and down the column, chatting with any Frank who could speak Greek. Several times a day he inquired after my lord’s health, though he seemed to take it for granted the news would be favourable. What was done was done, and nothing could undo it; perhaps I should have been gruff with him, yet when a great man took the trouble to be kind I felt I must reply politely. Besides, like most noble Romans, he could be very charming if he wished.

  So when on the seventh day of the march he called out to me, ‘We are near Castle Comnenon, the home of my ancestors, where we shall sleep tonight. How does it compare with the castles of Italy?’ I showed a flattering interest; though I took pleasure in telling my lord, through the curtains, that the place had been built by Alexius’s grandfather, born a Thracian peasant. The house of Comnenus is powerful, but not ancient.

  Alexius had not visited the castle since Manzikert. I suppose he knew the neighbourhood had been ravaged, but he cannot have foreseen the ruin he would find, or he would not have boasted. The building stood intact, for it was roofed with a brick dome which would not burn; but the whole place had been sacked, and not a stick of furniture remained. The walls kept out the weather, and that was all.

  Our officers and knights supped in the great hall, though they had nothing to eat but the salt beef and biscuit we carried with us. I was not grand enough to eat with them, but as my lord’s servant I stood in a corner, waiting to take his supper to the little chamber where he lay bandaged. Everyone was in a bad temper; the ruin of Castle Comnenon was worse than any Roman had expected; apparently they had been told in the city that no Turks had come so far north. The officers began to grumble, muttering that if the remains of the army had been better led, even after Manzikert, the countryside could have been saved. Theodore Docianus was especially bitter at the desolation. I saw him go from one man to another, obviously canvassing opinions; then he stood before the tables and began a set speech.

  ‘Cousin Alexius,’ he said bitterly, ‘you are three times Domestic of Asia, Europe and the Schools, and since our Emperor is a man of letters you have complete control of the army. Behold the results: Castle Comnenon pillaged, and my own estates deserted and valueless! These gentlemen are all clients of the great house of Comnenus. They also own land here. We consider you have failed in your duty, wasting the last resources of Romania to overthrow a barbarian who is after all a Christian. Roussel was the best warrior in Asia, and in mutilating him you pursued the Emperor’s private feud, instead of looking to the welfare of the state. My comrades and I will no longer obey you as Domestic; though if you change your policy we shall make you something greater.’

  I listened quietly, fearing that if I attracted attention I might be turned out of the hall. The Roman army proclaims a new Emperor whenever it is dissatisfied with the conduct of affairs, and here it was happening before my eyes. They proposed to make Alexius Emperor against his will; but he could not refuse, for once the perilous Purple had been offered Michael must seek his eyes, whether he plotted treason or was faithful. How could he escape? In spite of all that has passed I still liked Alexius Comnenus, so young and brave and charming.

  The Domestic heard his cousin to the end, without calling on the guards to interfere; probably they would not have obeyed him, for Roman troopers delight in civil war. The band who first proclaim a usurper will be his bodyguard if he succeeds, and the soldiers in the ranks will probably escape punishment if he fails. When he rose it seemed that he also would make a speech, but he preferred to lighten the tension by talking informally. The Greek language lends itself to these shades of seriousness, for nearly every word has two forms, the old one used in official proclamations and rhetoric, and the modern slang of light conversation. When he addressed his hearers as ‘Kavallarii’, the slang for horsemen, it was evident that he was not delivering a speech of acceptance to go down in history as the first pronouncement of a new Emperor.

  ‘Jockeys,’ he began with a friendly smile, ‘my gallant cousin has spoken as a patriotic Roman. The affairs of Asia are in a bad way, and perhaps another Domestic would have done better; though Palaeologus did not cover himself with glory.’ (This raised a laugh among these partisans of Comnenus.) ‘But all our troubles stem from that disaster at Manzikert, for which I am not to blame; since two years ago I was a student completing my education. Our wise Emperor is not to blame either, for he is still a student at the present day.’ (Another laugh.) ‘I’m sorry we couldn’t hold Amasia, though the order to retreat seemed popular when I gave it. Until the Treasury has been replenished we cannot fight so far to the eastward. My brother owns this castle, and I would hold it if I could. But cousin Theodore is a man with a grievance; he is cantankerous by nature, and when he plays polo the umpire is exhausted while the ponies are still fresh. He says I was wrong to blind the Frank, even if that was the only way of gathering tribute from Amasia. Well, I got the money; it has been spent among your tenants, and you may squeeze a little rent out of them if you are quick about it. Of course it was a great waste to destroy a mighty warrior; but could you, cousin Theodore, think of a better way out of that citadel? If you could, you should have told me. Perhaps I have not inflicted irreparable harm. The Frank invoked St Michael when the iron was applied, and the Archangel may have performed a miracle for a man of such holy and exemplary life.’ (Roars of laughter.) ‘You there, you’re his body-servant. Fetch Roussel. He shall sup with me in my hall.’

  As I hurried to my lord’s cell I puzzled over this speech. Alexius had deflated a serious situation; he had made fun of Docianus, and Palaeologus, and the Emperor, and put his hearers in a good temper. But if he now paraded my lord among the company his pitiful condition would spoil the effect of what had gone before; it seemed a tactless mistake, and I already knew Alexius well enough to realise he did not make tactless mistakes.

  My lord followed with docility, though in his weighty fetters he c
ould hardly walk. When he stood in the hall Alexius called in a friendly tone:

  ‘Lord Vestiarius, for as an untried prisoner you retain your rank, will you remove the bandage before these gentlemen?’

  When his head was bared my lord blinked and rubbed his eyes; then he looked round the hall. ‘I thought I was to pretend until we reached the Emperor,’ he said casually, ‘but if you say it’s all right I suppose it is. You’re a good friend in a tight place, and I shall always take your advice. I don’t see my lady and the children.’

  There were whoops of delight, and everyone forgot about making Emperors while they celebrated the trick which had been played on the burgesses of Amasia. The iron had been cold. That was a stratagem which appealed to every Roman. Alexius had not lied to anyone, which heightened their pleasure; they excuse lies told in a good cause, but a man who can deceive his enemies without them is considered much more cunning. Of course every Frank was weeping with joy, and my lady came in and got as drunk as the rest. That feast in Castle Comnenon stands out in my memory.

  Next morning we were brought back to realities. My lord was still a prisoner charged with treason, and must remain in fetters. Alexius would not accept his parole; he reminded us that perhaps the Emperor would order a real blinding after we reached the city; it would be sad if such a gallant knight broke his word, but too much to expect him to keep it. That is the Roman view of honour, as a strong force but not the strongest in the world; it is more sensible than the high-blown notions of the troubadours.

  We were too few to spare a garrison, and Castle Comnenon was left empty to the Turks. We continued towards the Bosphorus, but the Domestic of all the armies of Romania could not even ride through the inner Themes of Bucellarion and Optimaton; the Children of Kutlumush were raiding the valley of the Sangarius, and we dared not encounter them. We turned north to seek refuge in the seaport of Heraclea. The Domestic put us, horses and all, on the shipping in the port, and we sailed to the city. It was a shameful admission of weakness, very unpopular with the troops; the Romans of the city are resigned to the loss of Asia, but the soldiers are not. I thought, and everyone agreed with me, that the Emperor Michael was unlikely to hold the Purple for very much longer.

  When we disembarked I was separated from my lord; until the Emperor had leisure to sentence him he was chained in the common gaol, and criminals are not allowed servants. My companions of what had once been the Band of St Michael were absorbed into the Roman army; not as a unit, for obvious reasons, but distributed in twos and threes among the garrisons of Europe. My lady and her household, of which I was now a member, were pensioners on the charity of Alexius Comnenus; though my lady reminded us that we need not be ashamed at taking alms; for it was one of the terms on which we had surrendered, and as much our rightful due as any ransom from a defeated foe.

  Alexius was as good as his word, though he might have broken it with impunity. It is worth bearing in mind, when you get to Romania, that he is a man who keeps promises. There was a comfortable and lax house of nuns, of good birth, the Convent of St Thecla, at the western end of the city; it was only half a mile from the walls, convenient for hunting. There my lady was installed, as a boarder without vows; her daughter went with her, but even a fashionable convent cannot admit male guests, so Ralph and Osbert lived in a small house just beyond the porter’s lodge, and I took charge of them under the grand title of Pedagogue. I must have been the only pedagogue in the city who couldn’t read and write. A steward of the Comneni paid our expenses once a month, and gave me a small sum for clothes and pocket-money. We lived as poor gentry, but there were many poor gentry in the city now the Turks had intercepted the rents of Asia; we had enough to eat and horses to ride.

  I was not present when my lord was brought before the Emperor. The trial was held technically in open court, but unexpectedly, early in the morning, and I did not hear of it until it was over. Alexius sent word of what had passed; it might have been worse. The military members of the council proposed that Messer Roussel should again be employed in the army; they pointed out that he had refused to join Tutach, or to change his faith to win freedom from Artouch; he could be trusted to hold some unimportant fortress against the infidel, and if his garrison was composed of regular Roman troopers there would be no danger of rebellion. There was a grave shortage of competent officers, and it seemed a pity to waste one of the best of them, just because in the past he had been insubordinate.

  Nicephoritzes the Logothete proposed that he should be blinded at once, and later burned alive in the Hippodrome as a contribution to the Easter entertainments. I don’t think he was wholly serious, for even the wickedest Romans are very merciful; but my lord was present, and I imagine the Logothete wanted to give him a fright. In the end the Emperor’s sentence was a compromise; my lord would not be employed in the army, but neither was he to be blinded. He was condemned to rigorous imprisonment; and, what was really vindictive, his status would be that of a captured deserter, not an unsuccessful rebel. It was unkind, as well as absurd, to pretend that my lord had run away from the army because he was afraid to fight.

  Even rigorous imprisonment among the merciful Romans allows of daily exercise in the fresh air; Alexius arranged that my lord should have good food as well, and that his fetters should be removed when he took his weekly bath. He might live for many years. The family of Balliol and their one remaining follower settled down to wait for better times.

  15. The City

  It was known to every Roman that we were under the protection of Alexius Comnenus, and we were treated with respect. Alexius was now a very great man; he was the nephew of a past Emperor, and head of a great family; for his brother Isaac, who had failed to capture Antioch, was neither a leader nor a man of character, and had retired from politics. He was in his twenty-first year, but that was an advantage, because it meant that no one could blame him for the disaster at Manzikert. In the spring of 1074, a few months after we reached the city, he created a great sensation by marrying Irene Ducaina, daughter of Andronicus and granddaughter of the old Caesar. For two generations the houses of Ducas and Comnenus had been rivals, but now the Caesar, sitting blind in his monastery, had given up the struggle. He still hoped that his descendants would wear the Purple, and this marriage gave the future children of Irene a very good chance, though they would not be Ducates. I understand the match was reasonably happy; but Alexius could woo any lady, and he made use of his charm to aim higher; he conquered Maria the Alan, wife of the Emperor Michael. Every politician in the city waited for him to seize power; but he surprised us all by remaining loyal. He was commander in chief under an Emperor who would never take the field, and that seemed to satisfy his ambition. For four years the tangled and exciting politics of the city stood still.

  My lady knew city life, and loved what she knew; but for me it was a strange experience. You might think that living by the gatehouse of a convent, with one horse to ride and no enemies to fight, would be dull in the extreme; in fact the days were never long enough for all I wished to do. I was responsible for training my lord’s sons, and that meant spending the morning in the saddle; Ralph was twelve and Osbert eight, and of course their father had already taught them how to control a warhorse. But a growing boy needs constant practice, and it is a fascinating job; you must implant deep in his mind the conviction that he can go anywhere and do anything on any animal ever foaled, but if you overdo it he may have a painful fall and lose his nerve for ever. On fine days we rode in the forest beyond the walls, and if it was frosty or very wet there was always polo in the Hippodrome; though habitual polo-players get in the habit of checking their mounts before a collision instead of galloping hard into an adversary, and young men should not spend too much time at it. We would return to our lodging for dinner, and in the afternoon my lady received us in the guestroom of the convent. On Sundays and holidays we heard an early Mass at a Latin church down by the harbour, that the boys might be familiar with the ritual of their ancestors; but nearly
every evening we visited one of the great Roman churches, to see the lamps and listen to the singing; Holy Wisdom, of course, has the best illuminations, but many other churches employ good choirs. My lady appreciated Roman music, and her children endured it without complaint; but it is very different from plainchant and I never got the hang of it.

  Once a month the clerk who paid our pension brought a sealed report that the Domestic had seen my lord, and that he was in good health; but we never received a message from him; there was no reason to suppose he would leave his prison until he was carried out for burial. My lady was in practice a widow, and it was for her to make her own life, if she was to have a life at all.

  Matilda managed very well. She had given up the attempt to use paint like a smart Roman lady; she had never done it with the discretion of a native, and if she dressed like everyone else it only called attention to her accent; now she wore discreet Frankish gowns and proclaimed herself a foreigner; but that made her the more sought after among those bored society ladies, who in any case looked to a foreigner, the Empress Maria, as leader of fashion. To safeguard her reputation she took her daughter everywhere; Joan was now ten, and it was time to betroth her; but it was difficult to arrange a match for a penniless girl whose noble birth meant nothing to a Roman.

  The city seemed gay and splendid; the streets were thronged with gallant horsemen, and two or three times a week we visited some great mansion where groups of handsome young men in gauze mitres and pointed beards whispered to painted ladies while eunuchs sang or a scholar declaimed; clean, scented slaves handed round different kinds of wine, and the little cakes were covered with a sweet crust of sugar, a mysterious Arabian vegetable. On feast days the Emperor rode in state to Holy Wisdom, tall Varangians in gilded armour pressing back the loyal crowds, while Our Lady of Blachernae spread her blessing on all who saw her carried before him. (It had been explained that the picture lost at Manzikert was not the real one, but a duplicate copied for just such an emergency. You may believe this if you can.) After the Liturgy the Emperor would enter the Imperial Box in the Hippodrome; there would be displays of trick-riding, and acrobats dancing on ropes. The Hippodrome was originally constructed for chariot races, but the chariots came to be regarded as ensigns of the various quarters of the city, just as Lombard towns reverence the waggons which-carry their banners more even than the flag itself; the races were suppressed because they led to bloody faction-fights. So the Hippodrome has lost its function; but it is the traditional meeting-place of the Emperor and his subjects, where by ancient custom they may petition him. Everyone crowds into it, from habit or in the hope of seeing some exciting political event. In fact it is not easy to devise an entertainment in that great arena; trick-riding seen from a distance is dull unless the man falls off, and the clergy will not permit jousting. I went once or twice, but only Romans find it amusing.