God's Warrior

by Hilary Green

  ‘Shouldn’t you be there?’

  ‘No, Bohemond will see everyone gets his fair share. You can trust him for that.’

  ‘For that, and not much more,’ Ranulph responded sourly. ‘Come on. Let’s go and see what’s happening.’

  As they crossed the courtyard Ranulph looked up at the sky and a new memory stirred. He stopped and turned to his companion.

  ‘Marc, when we were charging Kerbogha’s men, did you look up? Did you … did you see anything in the sky above us?’

  Marc gasped. ‘You saw it? There have been rumours going round ever since last night. A vast angelic army, riding with us. You actually saw it?’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘No. But then I never looked up. I had not believed the stories until now – but you are telling me it was real?’

  ‘Real? I don’t know. Not real in the sense of flesh and blood. But if we believe in angels, as we are taught, then yes, I believe an angelic host rode with us into battle.’

  Marc shook his head in wonder. ‘I wish I had seen it.’

  Ranulph patted his arm. ‘It doesn’t matter. Our victory was a miracle and we have solid evidence of that.’

  They went out into the street and this time it was Marc who stopped abruptly.

  ‘That’s odd! Look whose standard is being flown above the citadel.’

  Ranulph looked. ‘The banner of Toulouse! Bohemond won’t like that!’

  He was right. When they reached the palace Bohemond was pacing the floor of the main hall in a rage. He looked at Ranulph and barked, ‘Ha! Not dead after all!’

  Before Ranulph could respond the main door was thrown open and two of Bohemond’s sergeants came in, dragging between them a man in Turkish dress. They threw him to the floor at Bohemond’s feet, where he crouched sobbing and begging for mercy.

  ‘Who is this?’ Bohemond demanded.

  ‘The captain of the garrison in the citadel,’ one of the sergeants responded. ‘He was responsible for raising the flag.’

  Bohemond bent and gripped the man by the throat. ‘Who gave you that banner and told you to fly it?’

  The man struggled to speak against the constriction of his throat, but the words he succeeded in uttering were in Turkish. Bohemond rounded on Ranulph.

  ‘You! What is he saying?’

  ‘That he was given the banner by Lord Raymond of Toulouse himself.’

  Bohemond eased his grip slightly. ‘When?’

  Ranulph relayed the answer. ‘Yesterday. When they saw that Kerbogha had withdrawn they decided to surrender and, of course, Count Raymond was left here in command. I suppose he was the obvious person to go to.’

  ‘That does not give him the right to fly his standard over my city!’ Bohemond ground out. He turned to the sergeant. ‘Fetch my banner!’ He hauled the quivering Turk to his feet. ‘Tell him this. He will raise my flag over the citadel and keep it there, in the face of all argument. If he does not, his life will be forfeit. Make sure he understands.’

  Ranulph repeated the order and the Turk nodded and gabbled agreement. The sergeant returned with the banner.

  ‘Marc,’ Bohemond said, ‘this is a job for you. Take this fellow back to the citadel and see my flag raised. If anyone argues tell them they will answer to me.’

  Marc bowed and left with the Turk and the two sergeants.

  ‘I know what Toulouse is up to,’ Bohemond growled, ‘but Antioch is mine and the sooner he accepts that the better.’ He turned with a sudden change of mood and slapped Ranulph on the shoulder. ‘I’m glad to see you alive. I shall have need of you to help me organise the running of the city. There is much work to be done.’

  Ranulph bent his head in acquiescence. ‘True, sire. We must put things in order before we leave for Jerusalem.’

  ‘Jerusalem?’ Bohemond spoke as if he had almost forgotten the purpose of their campaign. ‘Well, it will be a long time before we’re ready for that.’ He swung round as someone else entered the hall. ‘Ah, and here is the ideal man to help you. After all, without the two of you we might still be sitting outside the walls.’

  Ranulph turned and saw Farouz advancing towards him. He was dressed in robes of silk and velvet and around his neck hung a heavy gold chain.

  ‘Farouz? Where have you been? We thought you had gone into hiding.’

  A look of embarrassment crossed Farouz’s face but it was gone in a moment. ‘It seemed wise to stay out of sight for a while, until … well, until our victory was assured.’

  Bohemond beckoned Ranulph closer. ‘Farouz has already been rewarded, in part at least, for his role in our victory. Now it is your turn. Come!’

  He put a hand on Ranulph’s shoulder and propelled him across the hall to the door of an inner room. When he opened it Ranulph was reminded of the room full of treasure Alexios had given him to extract his oath of fealty. Gold and silver, furniture and rich clothing, all looted from the abandoned Turkish camp, were spread across the floor.

  ‘Well?’ Bohemond said. ‘What are you waiting for? Help yourself.’

  Ranulph shook his head. ‘You know, sire, that gold and treasure mean little to me. I have all I need.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ was the response. ‘All men need money. Here, take this for a start. I would not have men say that I do not reward those who serve me well.’

  He reached into a casket and drew out a gold chain from which hung a pendant set with a magnificent ruby and hung it round Ranulph’s neck. Ranulph caught his eye and knew that to refuse would be to precipitate one of his lord’s famous rages. He reflected that the ruby alone would keep Mariam and her children until the money he had sent for reached Antioch. He bent his head and murmured, ‘You are most generous, sire, as always. Thank you.’

  ‘Good!’ Bohemond slapped his shoulder again. ‘Now. Let’s get to work.’

  As they walked back to the main hall Ranulph met Farouz’s eye. ‘You are … at ease with this?’

  ‘Why not? In the end, we won, didn’t we? Antioch is in Christian hands again. The infidels are banished. We can start to rebuild our fortunes – and Lord Bohemond has promised me high office under his rule.’

  From that day on Ranulph was hard at work from early morning till dusk or even later. With the Turks gone a whole new administration needed to be set up and his previous experience on Sicily was invaluable. While the Franks and their allies feasted and attended masses of thanksgiving for their victory, he held discussions with the leaders of the Christian community, the churchmen and wealthy merchants who had once held positions of responsibility before the arrival of Yaghi Siyan. Included in this process was the arrangement of a treaty giving certain privileges to Genoese traders, who had arrived in the city with remarkable promptitude. In return they promised, on behalf of their city, military assistance, should it become necessary. Ranulph also attended a number of stormy council meetings, at which the future of the city was the main topic. Raymond of Toulouse was still determined that Antioch should be handed over to Alexios, as soon as he sent a representative to take charge. Bohemond maintained that the city had been promised to him as a fief, and that Alexios had forfeited his rights by failing to assist the Franks as he had promised. Adhemar and some of the others backed Raymond, but a majority were prepared to accept that it was Bohemond who had engineered the fall of the city, and he should be allowed to keep what he had won. Repeatedly the question was raised as to when the army should move on to fulfil its mission, but Raymond was obstinately determined not to relinquish control of the city to his rival and all further progress foundered on that rock.

  In his few spare moments, Ranulph devoted himself to examining and cataloguing the books he had rescued from Kerbogha’s tent. Some were in languages he did not understand, but among them there were books of exquisite poetry and others that he recognised as translations from ancient Greek philosophers. It was the medical treatises that interested him most. He even began to translate some of the key passages into Latin. Once or twice he tried to intere
st Marc in what he was doing but it was apparent that his friend was uneasy about his obsession.

  ‘Have a care, Ranulph,’ he said one evening. ‘There are those who would regard these pagan works as heresy. Do not seem to set yourself up against the authority of the Church.’

  As the days passed the rank and file of the army became impatient at the delay. Marc summed up their feelings.

  ‘The summer is passing. If we do not set out soon it will be too late to start a new campaign. What are we waiting for?’

  In spite of the abundance of fresh food, disease still haunted the army and the people of the city and their numbers continued to shrink. The most shocking blow came when the council heard that Bishop Adhemar was the latest victim. The loss of the Papal Legate, who had also proved himself a fearsome warrior, shook everyone’s confidence. A letter was sent to Pope Urban, asking him to take personal control of the whole expedition, but there was no immediate response. The bishop was buried in the hole from which the Lance had been recovered, in front of the altar in the church of St Peter.

  Weeks passed with no solution to the argument between the two leaders. On November 1st matters came to a head. Raymond had insisted on maintaining control over the areas he had originally occupied, but at a meeting of the council Bohemond demanded that he be given authority over the whole city. Once again Raymond protested that he was honouring his oath to Alexios.

  Bohemond jumped to his feet and strode over to the older man. ‘By God, I am sick of hearing this excuse. Everyone knows that what you really want is to take Antioch for yourself. Antioch is mine by the agreement we all signed before the final attack. If you do not at once concede all rule to me I will take you by the throat and shake it out of you!’

  Raymond rose and put his hand to his sword. ‘How dare you threaten me? If you wish we can put this argument to rest by mortal combat.’

  ‘Old man!’ Bohemond sneered. ‘Do you really think you can best me in a fight?’

  Several of the other princes were on their feet by this time and the two men were persuaded to withdraw their threats and sit down.

  ‘The common soldiers are restive enough,’ Godfrey of Bouillon pointed out. ‘If they hear of dissension between their leaders we may have real trouble on our hands.

  It was at this low point that Peter Bartholomew intervened again. He came before the council and announced that Adhemar had appeared to him in a vision. Adhemar, it was known, had always been sceptical about the authenticity of the Holy Lance. Now, Bartholomew said, Adhemar was being punished for his lack of faith. His orders, relayed through Bartholomew’s mouth, were that all his adherents should transfer their allegiance to Raymond of Toulouse.

  At the beginning of December Raymond, determined to win a fief for himself to rival Bohemond’s, gathered his forces together and set off southward to besiege the city of Ma’arrat. Bohemond promptly followed, leaving a small force to guard Antioch. Ranulph was not sorry to be one of those left behind. He had his work and his books and told himself that he required little else. Marc, too, was happy enough to remain. He had been disconsolate when the women were banished from the camp and he lost Phyrne’s company, but while they had been in Antioch he had become attached to a young widow whose husband had died during the long siege. Ranulph did not entirely approve, but he told himself that not every man was suited to the celibate life he had chosen.

  Then one evening Marc confronted him.

  ‘What are you going to do about Mariam?’

  Ranulph looked up from what he was reading with a frown at this unwarranted intrusion on his private life. ‘I have sent to a friend in Amalfi, a man who has looked after my affairs for years. I have told him to sell all my property and to send the proceeds here with all possible speed. When the spring comes and trade resumes the ship should arrive. Mariam will have all she needs to keep her and her children in comfort.’

  ‘I’m not talking about that!’ Marc said, with some irritation. ‘I’m talking about you and her. You loved her once, you told me so. I think you still do. And she is certainly still in love with you.’

  Ranulph felt as if he had been abruptly awoken from sleep. ‘In love? No.’

  Marc seated himself on the opposite side of the table and rested his elbows on it. ‘Come on, man! If you didn’t make a point of avoiding her you’d see for yourself. It isn’t lack of food any more that creates those shadows on her cheeks. She’s pining away because you ignore her.’

  ‘That’s not true! It can’t be true. I’ve told you. There can’t be any question of a relationship between us.’

  ‘Why not? You feel guilty for letting her down once before. Why make her suffer further?’

  ‘Because, for one thing, I’m not going to be here much longer.’

  ‘Then make the most of the time you have.’

  ‘What are you suggesting? Marry her, and then leave her in a month or two?’

  ‘She’ll wait for you.’

  ‘And if I don’t come back?’

  ‘At least she will have the comfort of knowing you still cared for her while you were here. Isn’t that less cruel than letting her believe you don’t feel anything for her?’ Ranulph was silent, battling with a flood of contrary emotions. Marc put a hand on his arm. ‘At least talk to her. You owe her that much.’

  Next day, after a sleepless night, Ranulph sent Dino to ask if he might have a few minutes conversation with Mariam. He came back almost at once with an invitation to go up to her apartments.

  They sat opposite each other while he sought for a way to open the conversation.

  ‘I sent the letter. The response is delayed, of course, by the winter weather. When ships start sailing again the money should be here. But by then I shall probably be gone.’

  ‘Then I will keep it until you return.’

  ‘I shall probably not return.’

  ‘You wish to stay in Jerusalem?’

  ‘No. No, that is not what I meant.’

  ‘Perhaps you intend to take ship from there back to Sicily. I think, from what Sir Marc has told me, that that is where you have made your home. Or perhaps you wish to go to your own country, where you were born.’

  ‘No. I have no plans of any sort. I mean I shall probably not survive.’

  She gave him the sort of look a patient mother gives to a recalcitrant child. ‘You did not expect to survive the last battle, but here you are. I said then that it is not for us to anticipate the day or the time when the Good Lord may decide to call us to Himself. We should live, yes, as if that moment could come at any time. But do you not believe that, until that time comes, we do His will best by living as fully as possible?’

  He lowered his eyes. ‘You are wiser than I am, Mariam – as always.’

  ‘No. But perhaps I have learned that it is better to live in hope than in despair.’ He said nothing and after a pause she went on, ‘If – when – you have fulfilled your vow and liberated Jerusalem from the infidel, have you thought of returning to the life you once knew, the life of a merchant?’

  The idea took him by surprise. He considered a moment. ‘It is a pleasant thought. I enjoyed that time.’

  ‘You would be your own master again, free from any vows of allegiance to great lords.’

  ‘That idea is also appealing.’

  ‘If you decided that that was what you wanted to do, Antioch would make a good base for your enterprise.’

  ‘It would, certainly.’

  ‘You would need money to purchase merchandise, hire a ship and a crew …’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So I will guard your money for you until such time as you need it.’

  Somewhere, in the centre of his being, he felt something growing, coming to life; he could not tell whether the sensation was physical or spiritual. He said, ‘If I were to do that, I should need a partner, someone to take care of affairs while I was away.’

  She assented by the slightest lowering of her head.

  ‘Would you … is
that something that you might be willing to undertake?’

  For the first time she met his eyes and held them. ‘There is only one way in which such a thing would be possible.’

  His throat was so tight that it was hard to get the words out. ‘If we were man and wife. Is that … could you contemplate such an arrangement?’

  ‘I would contemplate it with the greatest pleasure.’

  He stood up. It was no longer possible to remain seated. ‘Then, when I return – if I return – I shall ask you to marry me.’

  She rose too, holding his gaze still, and he saw the colour come and go in her face. ‘I do not think I can wait for that day. I do not insist on marriage now, if that would interfere with the vows you have taken. But …’ Her hands rose from her sides as if of their own volition … ‘I wish to know how it feels to lie in the arms of the man I love at least once … before …’

  He felt as if the solid earth had melted beneath his feet and left him suspended in mid air. He reached out his hands and found hers.

  It was not easy for either of them, that first time. He had been celibate too long, and for her the experience had always been one of passive submission to a man she disliked. But they were patient and tender with each other and when it was accomplished they lay together in a daze, like two creatures new born into a marvellous and unknown world.

  14.

  Ranulph and Mariam were married just before Christmas. As they celebrated the birth of Christ with masses and feasting Ranulph found a happiness he had never expected to experience again, but always at the back of his mind was the thought that soon the armed pilgrimage to which he was committed would move on and he would have to go with it.

  Reports began to filter back from Ma’arat. The winter siege was taking its toll and the troops were once again short of food. There were even rumours that some had resorted to cannibalism, cutting slices from the buttocks of fallen enemies and roasting them. Then came word that the city had fallen; but once again Raymond and Bohemond were in dispute about who should control it.