by Hilary Green
‘Careless of someone. But then, it was deserved. If they had let our men pass without hindrance it would not have happened. They are well served for their lack of hospitality.’
Bohemond’s pavilion was palatial compared with the tent which Ranulph and Marc shared. Carved chairs were piled with silken cushions and a cloth woven with colourful hunting scenes screened off what Ranulph assumed were the Count’s sleeping quarters. Pages and servants scurried about and in the clear space in front of the tent what looked like half a pig was turning on a spit over the fire.
Bohemond sniffed appreciatively. ‘Roast boar! Killed it myself two days ago. Stay and eat with us.’
Ranulph breathed in the savoury aromas and his stomach growled louder than before. He remembered the ‘tough old bird’ stewing in Fernando’s cooking pot. The temptation was strong but something, pride perhaps, or prudence, made him say, ‘Thank you, my lord. It is a generous offer but I have a good cook of my own and he will be most insulted if I do not return to eat the dinner he has prepared.’
Bohemond laughed. ‘Wise man! No one in his right senses wishes to insult his cook!’ he snapped his fingers at a page. ‘Wine, boy! And bring a goblet for my guest.’
The wine was, as promised, better than anything Ranulph had been able to buy and it crossed his mind to wonder if that, too, had been looted somewhere along their route. Bohemond drank deeply and gestured him to chair.
‘They tell me you were once a merchant. How did a man of noble birth, a born warrior, come to that?’
‘I was born noble, yes. But you know as well as I do what happened to the old nobility of England when William conquered the country. All through my youth I worked as a seaman and then as a mercenary. One day I encountered a man in a tavern in Amalfi. He was a merchant and it was obvious that he was prospering. He told me of the wealth that was to be made trading with the countries of the east. They needed iron, and wood for the furnaces to smelt it, and were glad to buy good woollen cloth and linen. In return he brought back silks and spices. He was in need of a strong arm as a bodyguard and impressed by the fact that I can read and write and calculate. He offered me a position as his secretary. I found I had a talent for trade and after a few voyages he took me as his partner. We bought a second ship and I took command of it. Sailing back home after a successful voyage we were attacked by Barbary corsairs. I passed two years as a galley slave, until Count Roger conquered Malta and set me free.’
‘You have travelled much, I understand, in the lands now occupied by the Turks.’
‘I traded there, once upon a time. But it was nigh on seven years ago now.’
‘Did you ever see Constantinople?’
‘No, my lord. My ventures took me further to the south. To Alexandria for spices and perfumes, to Antioch for silk.’ He paused. The name was heavily freighted with memories.
Bohemond leaned forward. ‘To Antioch? I am told it is a formidable fortress, and must lie on our route to Jerusalem.’
‘It is, indeed, my lord.’
‘Describe it to me.’
‘It is a huge city, set between the mountains and the River Orontes, and surrounded by mighty walls. It will be hard to take.’ Ranulph spoke slowly. He had seen cities besieged, but it was the first time he had been forced to contemplate what this might mean to the inhabitants of Antioch.
‘What do you know of the people?’
‘As I said it is many years since I was there.’
‘Are they Christians?’
‘Many of them, though their rites are not the same as those of our church. Some are of the Greek persuasion, others are Armenians.’
‘But the city is in the hands of the Turks.’
‘When I was last there the city was ruled by a man called Malik Shah. He was a tolerant man who allowed all the people to follow their own religion. But I have heard that he died some years ago. If the stories brought back by pilgrims are to be believed things are very different now.’
‘Which is why we have been sent for,’ Bohemond commented. ‘Do you have friends in the city?’
‘I … I did, once. I doubt anyone there would remember me now.’
Bohemond was silent for some time. Ranulph finished his wine and said, ‘Permit me to ask you a question, my lord.’
‘Ask.’
‘You have encountered the Emperor Alexios face to face. What manner of man is he?’
Bohemond considered. ‘A soldier, first and foremost. Plain speaking, simple in his tastes, not given to displays of luxury. He was not born ‘in the purple’ as they phrase it.’
‘I have heard the expression, but I have never understood what it means.’
‘There is a pavilion in the royal palace, completely decorated in Imperial porphyry – a purple-hued stone. Only those born in that room can claim to be legitimate heirs to the throne. Alexios has royal blood in him but he took the throne by force of arms, not as of right.’
‘I have heard he is a pious man.’
‘Very much so. If the stories are true, he wears a hair shirt, in penance for the killings perpetrated by his men when he seized the throne, and sleeps on the stone floor. But, having said that, he is quite aware of the value of ceremonial when the occasion calls for it. He can put on a show to impress the mightiest princes.’ Bohemond nodded, as if endorsing the conclusion for himself. ‘All in all, a man to be reckoned with.’
It seemed that the Count had no further questions for him and when Ranulph rose to take his leave he made no attempt to detain him. As he walked back to his own tent Ranulph’s thoughts were disturbed. He was aware that Bohemond had shown him unusual favour, when he might have been expected to be furious at his insubordination; but it was his own reaction that worried him. For days he had been growing more and more disillusioned with the Count’s behaviour and had begun to question whether he had been right to offer himself to the service of such a man. Was this, truly, the high purpose God intended for him, or had he been misled and tempted from the true path? Had he been wrong, after all, to throw in his lot with the hated Normans, the race who had conquered his country and slaughtered his family? He had agonised through many a cold night, praying for guidance. Today matters had come to a head and he had thought to force some kind of conclusion; yet a few genial words, a hand on his shoulder, the apparent valuing of his opinion, and he was once again in thrall. What magic did this man wield, that bound men to him? Ranulph knew he was not alone. There was not a soldier in the army who would not risk death at his command. But this did not solve his own problems.
Two days later, cresting a small rise, they saw the towers and battlements of a large city on the plain ahead of them.
‘Adrianople?’ Marc queried.
‘It must be. One of the cities built to guard the main route to Constantinople.’
‘Not far now!’ Marc said cheerfully.
‘I wonder what sort of reception we can expect here,’ Ranulph replied more soberly.
His question was soon answered. As they approached the city one of the gates opened and a column of cavalry rode out, followed by a large body of men-at-arms.
‘That doesn’t look like a welcoming committee,’ Marc commented grimly .
‘Are you surprised? After what happened at the last town we passed?’
‘Those are the Emperor’s standards,’ Marc said. ‘Surely they can’t mean us any harm.’
As they drew closer it became obvious that they were facing a far bigger force than the one commanded by Kerides. Bohemond called a halt and his household knights formed themselves into a tight defensive group around him. The opposing army halted also and a small contingent rode forward under a flag of truce.
A herald shouted, ‘I bear greetings from His Excellency John Doukas. May I approach?’
‘Come!’ Bohemond ordered. ‘The Emperor’s brother-in-law, no less,’ he murmured to those near him.
The herald rode forward, dismounted and knelt at the Count’s side. ‘His Excellency bids me welcome you to Adrianople and b
egs that you will honour him by accepting his hospitality. He awaits you in the citadel.’
Ranulph murmured a translation but Bohemond was looking beyond the herald and his small escort. The main force was deploying itself to either side of the road and Kerides had brought his own men up to join them. The Franks were virtually surrounded.
‘And my men?’ Bohemond demanded. ‘Are they to wait here, in the cold, while I feast with His Excellency?’
‘A camp has been prepared for them, a little further on,’ the herald said. ‘They will be escorted to it while you are in the city.’
It was clear to Ranulph that Bohemond had no choice but to comply. Any other course would almost certainly be met with force and they were in no position to fight a pitched battle. The Count inclined his head. ‘I thank His Excellency and shall be very happy to accept.’ He turned to his closest companions. ‘Tancred, I leave you in charge until I get back. Robert, and you Ranulph, come with me.’
Marc and Ranulph exchanged glances. Marc looked worried but Ranulph gave him a grin and shrugged. Whatever was in store for them, all they could do was obey orders – and at least, he reflected as he urged his horse forward in Bohemond’s wake, he would find out before anyone else.
When they were ushered into the room where Doukas awaited them it was immediately apparent that Ranulph’s services as an interpreter would be unnecessary, since their host spoke fluent French. Doukas greeted them civilly but his manner struck Ranulph as less than cordial. Wine was offered but as soon as the usual courtesies had been exchanged and the servants dismissed Doukas said, ‘My lord Bohemond, I have been instucted by the Emperor to convey you to Constantinople as quickly as possible.’
Bohemond smiled. ‘We shall be there in a matter of days now.’
Doukas said smoothly, ‘A large army cannot move with the same speed as a small group. I shall escort you personally to meet the Emperor.’
Bohemond’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean by ‘escort me personally’?’
‘Your army will remain encamped here until such time as you and His Majesty have had the opportunity to discuss the exact terms of your engagement. Rest assured they will be well provided for. My own men will see that no harm comes to them.’
‘You mean,’ Ranulph thought, ‘they will be kept from making any more mischief.’
If the same thought was in Bohemond’s mind he gave no sign of it. Instead he said, ‘You expect me to present myself unattended at the palace? Why should I trust myself to you?’
‘I can assure you that you will be completely safe with an escort of trusty soldiers under my command – and of course you are welcome to bring your personal attendants and one or two close advisers. These gentlemen here, perhaps.’
Ranulph watched Bohemond assessing the situation and biting back an angry response. The fact was that they were virtually prisoners and they had no choice but to accept.
‘Why so much haste?’
‘You are perhaps not aware that several other Frankish lords are already encamped outside the city with their armies. Dukes Godfrey of Bouillon, Baldwin of Flanders, Stephen of Blois, Robert of Normandy, all await your arrival. And Alexios himself is eager to meet you face to face once again. As I recall, the last occasion was in the presence of the Patriarch of Jerusalem, when you signed the treaty restoring to him the lands you had attempted to seize.’ Bohemond glowered at the reminder but Doukas went on, ‘And on the subject of restoration – I am informed that in your progress through the Emperor’s dominions you, or your men, have taken possession of a number of items which are rightfully the property of his subjects. Of course, there is nothing to be done about cattle slaughtered or wine consumed; but there were other, more durable and more valuable objects. I have a list, sent to His Excellency by various officials in charge of the areas you have passed through, and my men are at this moment searching your camp to repossess them.’
Ranulph looked at Bohemond, waiting tensely for the explosion that he knew must follow. Instead, the Count threw back his head and laughed – a great bellow of mirth that rattled the goblets on the table.
‘A few paltry pieces! Are the Emperor’s subjects so poor that they must needs pester his Excellency for the return of such trivial objects? In my own domains the loss of such things would scarcely be noticed, let alone bewailed.’
‘Then you will not grudge their return to their rightful owners,’ Doukas said. ‘I am glad to see that you are willing to comply with the Emperor’s wishes and he asked me to tell you that in return you can expect far greater treasures, which he has prepared for your arrival. Now, since we are agreed, let us dine. We leave at first light tomorrow.’
3.
They rode at dawn, as Doukas had decreed, having been joined by five of Bohemond’s most trusted knights plus his squire and a couple of pages. Ranulph was disconcerted to find a strange horse prepared for him but the Byzantine explained that relays of fresh horses were waiting for them along the route.
‘You would not wish to leave your own horse behind at the first posting house,’ he pointed out. ‘Rest assured, your horses will be returned to the camp where your army is waiting and they will be restored to you when the army moves to Constantinople.’
They rode fast along a well-made road, trotting most of the time, cantering where the ground was level, and came to the first relay point by mid-morning. Food and wine were offered, but they hardly had time to taste them before they were back in the saddle again. There was a longer break at midday, but immediately they had finished their meal Doukas called them to horse again. By evening, Ranulph reckoned they had covered almost fifty miles.
They spent the night in a building that appeared to combine the functions of an inn and a fortress, with stabling for the horses on one side of a fortified courtyard and a long room opposite that served as a dining hall and dormitory. An excellent meal was set before them and Doukas played the role of a genial host, but Ranulph had a feeling of growing unease. ‘What,’ he asked himself, ‘was the purpose behind this haste?’ What were Alexios’s intentions? He and Bohemond were old enemies. Did he, perhaps, intend to punish him for the way the army had behaved on their journey, even imprison him? Or did he plan to hold him hostage to ensure the good behaviour of his forces? In either case, how would Tancred react? Ranulph knew from the experience of the last months that he was hot-tempered and unpredictable. It would not be out of character for him to launch an all-out attack on Constantinople, even if it put his uncle’s life at risk. On the other hand, he reasoned, Alexios had asked for the help of western forces to confront the Turks. Surely he could not afford to offend one of their leaders? He wondered how the other great lords, now apparently awaiting their arrival, would respond if the Emperor imprisoned Bohemond. He knew enough recent history to be aware that he was less than popular with many of them. But for now everything depended on Alexios.
Hoping to gain some insight into the possibilities, Ranulph took a flask of wine and two cups and moved to sit opposite the officer commanding the escort.
‘I want to commend you,’ he said, filling the goblets, ‘ on the system of relays of fresh horses. I had never thought it possible to cover so much distance in one day.’
The officer raised an eyebrow. ‘I can take no credit for that. It is a system we inherited from the Romans, the cursus publicus. But surely you have similar arrangements in Europe?’
‘Not as far as I know,’ Ranulph confessed. ‘Does the system extend throughout the Emperor’s domains?’
‘No. At one time it must have done, but it fell into disuse centuries ago. The Emperor reinstated it specifically so that messages could be sent and received with the utmost speed from Adrianople. It is, after all, the second city of the empire and close to our borders with the barbarians further north.’
‘I see the Emperor is a man of great foresight and powers of organisation,’ Ranulph commented.
‘He is a great general, in all respects.’
‘But, I am tol
d, he is also a pious man who chooses a simple life. I am eager to meet him.’
The officer’s lips twitched and he raised his eyes to meet Ranulph’s with what looked like a hint of mockery. ‘What makes you think that you will meet the Emperor?’
Ranulph’s immediate reaction was anger but he swallowed it back, realising that his remark had sounded presumptuous. ‘Forgive me. I meant only that I am eager to be in the presence of His Excellency, if only at a distance. Of course, my lord Bohemond will meet with him.’
‘Probably – when it pleases the Emperor to grant him an audience.’
‘But that is the purpose of this haste. The Emperor wants to see him immediately.’
The other man’s expression grew more ironic. ‘The Emperor wants Bohemond in Constantinople,’ he said dryly. ‘But I have known him keep even a royal princess waiting days for an audience.’
‘I understood that Alexios keeps no great state, but allows even the humblest of his people to approach him.’
‘It is true. But he is also conscious of the majesty of his position.’ The officer put down his goblet. ‘Shall I describe to you the great audience chamber in the palace?’
‘Please do.’
‘The first thing the visitor sees when he enters the chamber is two trees made of gilded bronze, in the branches of which sit silver birds, decorated with jewels and enamel, which sing, each according to his species. Before the dais are two golden lions, which open their mouths and roar as the visitor approaches. Then, when he nears the presence of the Emperor, the whole dais rises as if by magic towards the ceiling, placing him beyond the reach of sight or hearing.’
‘And this is what My Lord Bohemond can expect?’
The man shrugged. ‘That will be at the Emperor’s pleasure. I am only telling you what is possible.’
The travellers were preparing for bed. Ranulph rolled himself in his cloak and stretched out on the straw mattress, trying to reconcile the different images he had been given of Alexios and more apprehensive than ever about what the coming days might bring.