Crusade

by Stewart Binns

  Robert was being typically considerate, but he knew it was not as simple as he implied.

  It was left to me to play Devil’s advocate.

  ‘As one of the senior Latin Princes of this righteous Crusade, what will be the reaction among your peers and within the rank and file? After all, Sweyn is a senior knight, now lauded for his leadership against the Seljuks, as is Adela; Estrith is the Abbess of Fécamp and the “angel” of the camp among the sick and wounded. If Sweyn’s fathering of the child is concealed, we still have to find an alternative sire, which might make matters worse.’

  Sweyn now got to his feet. ‘There will be no denial of my role as the child’s father. It is our child and I will be a loving father to it.’

  Robert pondered the situation for a while.

  ‘Well, it might be difficult at first, but it will blow over.’

  ‘Robert, you know as well as I do that it won’t “blow over”; at the very least, Estrith will have to leave the Crusade. Adhemar Le Puy, the Papal Legate, is an ambitious and devious man and he knows that the zealots won’t tolerate a pregnant abbess in their ranks. Worse still, Raymond of Toulouse still holds a grudge against us after the argument Sweyn had with him in the crypt of St Sernin’s in Toulouse; he could call for Estrith’s excommunication, or worse.’

  Hereward spoke for the first time. ‘Estrith, do you want this child?’

  ‘Do you mean, will I get rid of it? The answer is emphatically no.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant. Will you nourish it and nurture it and devote your life to it?’

  ‘Father, it is my child and I will do everything in my power to care for it as it should be cared for.’

  Hereward stared at his daughter for a long time before making a suggestion.

  ‘I would like some time to talk to Estrith alone and also to have some time with Adela and Sweyn. May we reconvene at the same time tomorrow?’

  We all thought this a good idea and agreed to his plan.

  There was no setting sun the next day. The long hours of sunshine were becoming fewer, reminding us all that winter would soon be upon us, and that even in the eastern Mediterranean the days could be cold and miserable.

  It was my turn to lead the meeting; Hereward asked for permission to speak.

  I often wondered what words had been said by the three of them in the hours between the two gatherings, but they had been spoken by a very select group within our Brethren: two sons of Bourne, a daughter of Bourne and one of its granddaughters; and they concerned yet another generation from that small but far from inconsequential Fenland village.

  ‘I have a suggestion which I believe will resolve the dilemma we face and, more importantly, is in the best interests of the child. This siege is going to take many months. Antioch must fall if Jerusalem is to be taken, so the army will be camped here for some time. Adela should not be here in her condition throughout the winter; she needs warmth and the care of the best physicians. Estrith hardly shows, so we are the only ones who know she is pregnant …’

  Hereward paused to gather his thoughts before continuing.

  ‘Estrith and Sweyn have agreed to the following; it is important that it is endorsed here, so that our Brethren can continue in its bond of loyalty. What will be agreed here will be known only to us, until such time as Estrith, Sweyn and Adela decide to tell the child about our decision. If that hasn’t happened at the time of the death of the last of us, it falls to the last surviving member of the Brethren to care for the child and tell it the truth about its birth. In due course, the child will be admitted to the Brethren in its own right.’

  He put his right arm around Estrith’s shoulders and sat her down next to Adela. Then he asked Sweyn to sit on her other side.

  ‘We four are now the only survivors of our home in Bourne. Until recently, it looked like its lineage would die with us, but now, miraculously, my grandchild will continue not only that ancestry, but also Torfida’s and mine. Estrith and Adela have agreed to travel to the coast at St Symeon, where the Emperor is establishing a supply base for the siege here at Antioch. They will then sail to Constantinople, where Estrith will enjoy her confinement under the protection of the Emperor and where Adela will be able to recover away from public view in the Blachernae. I have spoken to Tacitius; he will provide an escort, make the arrangements with the Emperor and tell him about our deception and need for the utmost discretion. If, by the time the child is born and weaned, it is safe for it to return to the Holy Land, they will join us, hopefully in a liberated Jerusalem.’

  There were smiles all round from the four children of the Fens, but Hereward had saved the crucial part of the plan until last.

  ‘After the birth and weaning, the three of them will emerge from the Blachernae and Adela will be presented as the mother of the child. No one will know otherwise, except us. Estrith will, of course, stay close to the child, but it will be raised as the natural child of the marriage of Adela and Sweyn. In truth, we Brethren will all be its family and guardians, as we are for one another. We will tell the Princes and those whom Estrith has been caring for that she is returning to Constantinople to care for Adela’s wound and to help her with what would be a very difficult pregnancy.’

  Adela laughed out loud. ‘A difficult pregnancy – it’s the conception that would have been the difficult part, with me in this condition!’

  There was laughter all round and the four of them embraced warmly. Robert and I looked at one another. We both smiled. It was a remarkably simple solution, but one that could only work through an exceptional rapport between Estrith and Adela.

  I had to ask the question.

  ‘Can the two of you deal with this – especially you, Estrith?’

  ‘As my father said, it is in the best interests of the child and of the Brethren, so we will make it work. I know that the bond between mother and child is very strong, but I’m not giving my child up. We will still be a family, and I will see the child all the time.’

  ‘That could make things worse, not better.’

  ‘Perhaps, but I think I can cope with being Aunt Estrith rather than Mamma. Adela will be better at that.’

  Adela seemed relaxed; her demeanour was certainly very different from the day before.

  ‘I’m not sure I will make a better mother – it’s the last thing I ever thought would happen. But the only things that matter are the six of us and our new member – the little beast. And mark my words, girl or boy, it will be a little monster; I will make sure of that!’

  Everyone laughed at a typical Adela comment, but I had one more question.

  ‘All you have ever wanted to be is a warrior. You have achieved that and won the admiration of your fellow knights and thousands of Crusaders. Are you prepared to give that up to raise a child, one that isn’t even yours?’

  ‘Well, it certainly helps that I have achieved what I’ve achieved. The welcome we received when we returned from the raid on the Seljuks was everything I had been looking for. But I’m now forty-three years old, I don’t have many warrior days left – especially with the disadvantages I have as a woman barely five and half feet tall. Hereward and I talked for a long time last night. He explained some things which helped me realize that perhaps I have finally buried the past. He also told me some home truths about what is eating my backside. I may not survive at all. And if I do, I may not be able to walk properly, let alone ride a horse. But this child offers me a new challenge – one that I’ll meet head on – the first part of which is to survive for at least nine months so that our plan can succeed.’

  Robert nodded and smiled at me; perhaps it might work, after all.

  By midday next day, Estrith and Adela had left for the coast and we threw ourselves into the complex business of laying siege to the mightiest fortress in the eastern Mediterranean.

  Hereward proved to be right about the length of the siege of Antioch. The Crusaders faced interminable difficulties, unable to encircle the vast walls completely. Yaghi-Siyan,
the wily governor of the city – a former slave from Turcoman, far to the east – was able to bring in provisions from time to time and had an army formidable enough to sally forth occasionally from the walls and attack us, causing mayhem, much loss of life and a significant lowering of morale.

  The winter threw itself into the conflict and became a key part of the city’s defence. Rain, mud, and even snow, made life miserable for the besiegers in their tents, while those under siege enjoyed the comforts of their firesides, kitchens and beds. Although some supplies were getting through from the Emperor’s base at St Symeon, Yaghi-Siyan’s allies – Ridwan, Sultan of Aleppo, and his brother, Duqaq, Emir of Damascus – made constant attacks on the supply lines and even engaged the Christian army in full-scale battle.

  It was a long and debilitating winter, which seemed to go for ever.

  We had to build defensive towers of our own to protect our supply lines from the coast. By May of 1098, six months into the siege, our army was demoralized and, through the ravages of war, famine and disease, had been reduced to fewer than 25,000 men, with no more than 1,000 war horses, none of which were heavy Norman destriers.

  Inevitably, the Princes began to argue about tactics and strategy and more blatant self-interest emerged, especially when news reached us that Baldwin of Boulogne’s audacious adventure into Mesopotamia had become an outrageous success. With a force of barely 200 knights, he had managed to conquer the ancient and wealthy city of Edessa and create a Christian county, installing himself as its potentate.

  Bohemond of Taranto now revealed that he wished to be made Prince of Antioch after the city had been taken and that he would not continue with the Crusade unless his demand was met. The Council of War was convened but it broke up in deadlock, with the Princes screaming at one another.

  Then a new threat united us once more. Reports began to arrive that Kerbogha, Atabeg of Mosul, was approaching with a huge army, said to be over 50,000 strong, to relieve the city. With our reduced numbers, we were in a very vulnerable position and could easily end up trapped like rats in a barrel between the towering walls of the city we were besieging and a formidable advancing army.

  At this point, we suffered more desertions. Stephen of Blois, one of the staunchest supporters of the Crusade, had had enough. His will was broken and news of an approaching horde of Seljuk Turks was the final straw. He and his large contingent took flight in the middle of the night and made for the coast at Alexandretta.

  Tacitius then announced that he was taking his Byzantine contingent back to Constantinople. He kept his real reasons to himself, saying only that he had been ordered to return. Panic and anger spread throughout the army – panic because of the encroaching Turks, and anger because the besieged seemed to be faring better than the besiegers. Another Council of War was called; this one was much more amiable and focused.

  Raymond of Toulouse summarized the situation.

  ‘My Lords, our siege is now in its seventh month. We are slowly strangling the city, but it has a thick neck and our grip is not as strong as it once was. We have fought off Ridwan and Duqaq, but now Kerbogha approaches with many allies and mercenaries. We have a ready-made fortress from which to defend ourselves; it stands behind us. Unfortunately, we are not welcome inside! What are we to do?’

  The Count’s droll introduction made everyone smile and lessened the tension in the gathering.

  Robert got up to speak.

  ‘My Lords, Count Raymond, may I offer the floor to Godwin of Ely, an Englishman who served as Captain of Emperor Alexius’s Varangian Guard for many years? He is a good friend of the Norman contingent and of Prince Edgar’s English knights.’

  The Count looked at the other Princes, who all gave their approval.

  ‘Thank you, Duke Robert. My noble Lords, Count Raymond, over the past few days one of our knights has spent several hours inside the walls of Antioch.’

  There were gasps of admiration around the room and some incredulity. Although our encirclement of the city was greater than it had been, it was still possible for the defenders to get in and out in small numbers under cover of darkness.

  ‘A young knight in the service of Prince Edgar, Sir Sweyn of Bourne – who, you will remember, is the knight who led the daring attack on Qilich Arslan’s baggage train – disguised himself as an Arab and mingled with a group of scavengers returning to the city. He is fortunate to be dark-skinned and can speak some Arabic.’

  I looked at Robert, who shook his head. Hereward’s announcement was as much of a surprise to him as it was to me.

  ‘My Lords, would you allow Sweyn of Bourne to give you his report?’

  There were enthusiastic approvals all round. Sweyn looked confident and poised as he started to speak.

  ‘My Lords, I have made contact with a man called Firuz. He was born an Armenian Christian, but converted to Islam some years ago. He is an armourer by trade, but in the siege he defends one of the isolated towers on the south-eastern side of the city. He is not disillusioned with his faith, but he is greedy. His terms are simple: he wants safe passage for himself and his family within an hour of the deed being done, a large estate in Sicily, one hundred pounds of silver and a knighthood conferred by Count Roger of Sicily. In return, on a night of the dark of the moon, he will leave a section of wall unguarded next to his tower, so that a small assault party can scale the walls. He will then lead us to the Gate of St George so that we can overwhelm the guards, open it and let in our army.’

  Bohemond of Taranto asked the most important question: ‘Can we trust him?’

  ‘He’s prepared to offer his son as a hostage, my Lord.’

  There was a stunned silence for a few moments as the Princes came to terms with the audacity and simplicity of Sweyn’s solution to their dilemma. Count Raymond got to his feet.

  ‘Sweyn of Bourne, you and I had a serious disagreement in Toulouse, after which I vowed that, when the time was right, I would teach you a lesson about how a knight should behave. Well, boy, if you pull this off, that incident will be forgotten and you will receive a significant reward of your own.’

  Bohemond of Taranto then spoke. ‘I will pay the geld of silver and, as Roger of Sicily is my uncle, the lands and the title will not be a problem. When is the dark of the moon?’

  ‘Three days, my Lord.’

  ‘Then we’ll be ready. By the way, how did you find this man, Firuz?’

  ‘It’s not difficult to find greedy men, my Lord. There isn’t much food in the city and many are hungry. I went to the brothels, where people are usually discreet, and said that I had a bag of silver to buy a leg of mutton for a family feast and asked where I might find one. I was eventually sent to Firuz. Hidden beneath his forge, he had food and wine sufficient to feed a prince’s court for a month. I knew I had found the right man.’

  Bohemond slapped Sweyn on the back with his huge hand and hurried off to begin preparing for the assault on the city. Robert and I rushed over to congratulate Sweyn on his remarkable coup.

  ‘It was Hereward’s idea.’

  ‘I couldn’t pass as an Arab, so Sweyn had to take all the risks. We weren’t hiding anything from you; I just wanted Sweyn to have his moment and for it to be as big a surprise for you as it was for everybody else.’

  Just as Hereward finished speaking, Bohemond reappeared. Hereward stood up to greet him.

  ‘My Lord?’

  Bohemond did not reply, but stared at Hereward intently.

  ‘I know who you are, Hereward of Bourne. It is too much of a coincidence that Sweyn is a son of Bourne and that he came to the Holy Land with Prince Edgar.’

  Hereward did not respond. His expression impassive, he just stared back at the giant Norman. Bohemond’s craggy face then creased into a smile.

  ‘Do not worry, Godwin of Ely, your true identity is safe with me, especially after the service given to us today by Sir Sweyn.’

  Bohemond then offered his hand and Hereward shook it firmly.

  Sweyn was give
n the honour of leading the scaling party.

  The plan worked perfectly; within twenty minutes of the grappling hooks landing on the battlements, St George’s Gate was open and a great tide of Crusaders rushed in. Antioch, the last major obstacle on the road to Jerusalem, was at the mercy of the Christians.

  From that moment onwards, events did not unfold as Sweyn had hoped.

  Robert had persuaded the Council of War to agree that civilians would not be harmed, but it was an empty promise. The Christian army showed no mercy.

  Eight months of privation and the bloodlust of the Crusaders combined to create a frenzy of killing that lasted all night. By dawn, the streets flowed with rivers of blood and piles of bodies made them impassable.

  Blinded by their indiscriminate savagery and the blackness of a moonless night, the marauding Crusaders put to the sword Syrian Orthodox Christians, Armenians, Jews and Greeks, who all perished with their Muslim neighbours.

  In what should have been a moment of great elation for Sweyn, he stood on the battlements of the city and, instead of hailing the victory, let out an anguished cry.

  ‘Why?’

  30. Besiegers Besieged

  Sweyn’s achievement had saved the Crusade, but only just in time. Kerbogha’s vast army appeared on the horizon in the middle of the afternoon. The entire Crusader army and all its civilian entourage hurried into Antioch and the gates were closed behind them.

  We took stock of our position. It was grim; we had the city’s strong walls around us, but it had been under siege for nearly nine months and its granaries and storerooms were empty. Our supply line to the coast was gone and Kerbogha’s army was big enough to completely enclose us and gradually tighten the noose. Worst of all, the city was full of bodies and we faced a fight against time to burn them before they contaminated the wells.

  Having spent nine months in Purgatory outside the walls, we now faced a living Hell within them.

  The Muslim army was so huge it seemed to occupy every foot of ground around the entire city. Their war drums boomed incessantly and their cries for vengeance filled the air day and night. There were soon many desertions from our ranks, including the previously faithful Ives and Aubrey of Grandmesnil, who lowered themselves down ropes and made a cowardly dash for the ships at St Symeon.