This was only a partial solution given that aid came best from mounted and mailed knights; to ride a horse across an unstable platform was difficult and that imposed a strict limit on how many could use the pontoon at the same time — the greater the number who tried simultaneously, the greater the movement under the horses’ hooves — which led to crowding on the west bank as frustrated warriors sought to get at their rampaging enemies.
Henry of Esch, he one of the pair who came up with the ridiculous bombardment screen which fell apart at Nicaea, became so frustrated he rode into the river, sinking ever more until his head was under the water and he was despaired of. God was with him, it was later claimed, as he emerged, still mounted and dripping water, to urge his mount up onto the far bank. Still soaked he went straight into action and did good service.
Of greater concern, as time went on, was the diminution of supplies; such a huge number of mouths — fighting men and pilgrims — required feeding on a scale that even the fertile plains to the west of the Orontes could not support, while bringing in food and fodder from the well-disposed Armenians was slow and difficult given it all had to be carried by oxen or donkeys and was subjected to raids by bands of Turkish warriors.
Those same bands made foraging difficult to near impossible, so from being a place of plenty the region in which they were encamped soon looked to be on the way to becoming a wasteland, and that was before the weather, hitherto benign, turned for the worse. Lashed by heavy rain and battered by strong winds the siege lines turned into an area of hard-to-negotiate mud and made everyone’s life a misery, the Turks quick to take advantage of that by sending out short sharp raids to further lower the spirits of those they faced.
After days of such downpours the sky cleared, the wind dropped and news came from St Simeon that a fleet of Genoese ships had arrived in the harbour with supplies, and not just provender: there were new Crusaders too, if in no great number, but more importantly the Great Count Roger had responded to his nephew’s request and sent from Sicily his most experienced artisans, men who had campaigned with him on the island and helped to take many a Saracen fortress.
Their first task was to turn Bohemund’s temporary bastion on the slopes of Mount Staurin into a more robust fortress and if it could not match in strength the walls of Antioch it was well built enough to completely secure that flank and obviate the risk of what many feared, a mass attack being launched down that slope in an attempt to sweep the Crusaders into the river. Needing to be named, as did everything structured in the siege, the men who manned it called their temporary fort Malregard, a reference to the fact that it was still an exposed and dangerous position.
Yet if that arrival lifted the spirits it soon became clear just how short a period any food they had brought would last, and the ships were quick to depart once unloaded, with those who knew of the sea aware that they would not be seen again till spring, so dangerous was the Mediterranean for lengthy winter voyages. They still had Cyprus, much closer, but even there the crossing could be suspended for weeks due to storms, and in anticipation of dearth Bohemund sent half his horses away to the north where there was more pasture, an act which his fellow princes declined to emulate.
That still left him with enough mounts to be active in the ensuing sorties and the one most pressing was the need to counter the interdiction of supplies by roving raiders from the eastern hinterland. It was not just the loss of food to the Crusaders — every time a force sought to impede supplies getting in through the Iron Gate they faced not just the defenders of Antioch but a strong mounted force which threatened their rear and on more than one occasion had caught the Frankish lances unawares and inflicted heavy casualties.
As the contingent who would find it easiest to disengage and recross the Iron Bridge, the council deputed the Apulian Normans to seek to remove this threat, to find out where these raiders were camped and either destroy them or so harry them they would have to move further away to a point where their depredations would cease to be effective. From being static before the St Paul’s Gate — only the other contingents had seen much work mounted — Bohemund’s lances, one thousand strong, were delighted to move out on horseback. Tancred was left in charge of the rest of the host and Robert of Salerno taken along as second in command.
Across the bridge and riding east Bohemund was aware that the terrain to him was unknown. The plain he was on consisted of rolling hills, grassed after the recent rains, until far in the distance was an escarpment he knew was called Jalal Talat and the fortress of Harim. He suspected that somewhere in between there was a Turkish camp and a force of an unknown number, but one seemingly big enough to raid close to Antioch as well as far and wide to block the routes to the siege lines, so highly mobile and operating in country which they clearly knew well.
‘Let us show them respect, Robert.’
That such a feeling did not come naturally to the Lombard showed on his face, but he kept any words to himself.
‘We will split up. I want you to ride ahead at walking pace with half our lances and seek to flush out our enemy. As soon as they think you will discover their encampment they will be obliged to try and drive you off.’
‘Happily.’
‘You are not to offer them anything other than token battle. Make sure the fellow with the horn knows that you intend to retreat shortly after making contact.’
‘I could tell the men.’
‘Then you would have five hundred generals instead of one, best keep your own council. Understand this, Robert, I sense in you a desire to be popular and that is laudable in a leader, but my father taught me it is just as important to know your own mind and to be equally sure that no one who is not in your trust does not. Half the time in combat he was the only person who knew what he intended and that was total in his dealings with men off the field of battle.’
‘Like my grandfather?’
‘I only knew Prince Gisulf a little, Robert, but I can tell you he makes Count Hugh of Vermandois look like Alexander the Great, he was such a military dolt.’ Seeing that it sounded like a slight on his bloodline, Bohemund softened his tone, which had been unsympathetic. ‘You are not he and today, if we combine well, you will prove it. We may not see battle but if we do I want you to stand as well in my eyes as Tancred.’
‘I thank you for that.’
‘Robert, it is an aim I extend to all my captains, without exception. Now ride ahead and spread your men out to cover as much ground as the landscape allows without any loss of contact.’
‘How will I let you know if we do find the enemy?’ Bohemund just looked at him without answering, the obvious point that this was something he should be able to sort out himself and Robert acknowledged that. ‘Men to the rear who will alert you?’
‘I need numbers and how willing they are to fight. If, as I hope, they see you as meat for their table you are to take flight as if beaten, the rest will fall to me.’
Watching them depart there was a moment when Bohemund doubted the wisdom of giving Robert command; his lust for some kind of glory was high — he had a need to wipe out the stain of his inheritance being taken from him by the Guiscard, that made even more disagreeable by the fact that Duke Robert’s wife, his Aunt Sichelgaita, had been a party to the removal of her own father — seeking fame, Robert might disobey his instructions. That thought had to be smothered; he had handed over responsibility and there was no point in fretting upon it. Instead he must look to how he was going to exploit what he expected to happen.