‘I still say that Alexius will send a garrison,’ Raymond insisted.
‘And if he does, My Lord, will you feel safe? Do you believe that if the Turks threaten his capital he will hold Antioch and risk that Constantinople might fall? Who amongst us has not felt let down by the actions of the Emperor up till now?’
That stopped any eye contact, for Bohemund had hit a very sore spot indeed — if they had not complained openly every one of them had railed at his lack of support in private.
‘Alexius is clever, My Lords, he let us think he would take the field in person and aid us on our Crusade but he did not. Instead he has used us to free his borderlands and his men have stood aside when we have been in danger, as at Dorylaeum. We have crushed Turk after Turk and who will benefit from their being diminished if not the Byzantine Empire?’
‘We do.’
‘And so, Your Grace, does he. I say we must hold Antioch ourselves and deny it to him, not for mere gain but for our own security and the sake of the Crusade.’
‘And who,’ Duke Robert enquired, ‘will hold it?’
‘We must hold it in common,’ Ademar cried, before he realised he might be agreeing with Bohemund. ‘Until Alexius makes his presence felt.’
‘By the laws of conquest,’ Bohemund said quietly, ‘the man who holds it is the one whose banner flies above the walls when Antioch falls.’
There was a moment then when avarice came to the surface; Antioch was a rich fief, a great centre of trade and whoever was suzerain would not want for wealth. Then each mind, Bohemund was certain, turned to the notion that such a possession might fall to another and that, as a consideration, was less welcome.
‘Pope Urban would not approve of even the thought.’
‘Bishop Ademar, Pope Urban is not here, and I say if you wish to take and hold Jerusalem for our faith, you will not do so unless you hold Antioch as well. I have said my piece, but know this: my family has fought Byzantium for over sixty years and I will make a claim I do not think can be gainsaid. We de Hautevilles know them better than anyone in the council and to repose any faith in the notion that they, or Alexius Comnenus, will do anything other than that which protects their own interests, is folly.’
‘Why do I think you have hankered after Antioch all along?’ asked Tancred, when his uncle related to him the gist of the meeting.
‘No, not Antioch, but it has been a long time since I felt that anything would come from going on to Jerusalem.’ That raised a youthful eyebrow. ‘Remember I told you by the River Vardar of all the things that were unknown. Then we had no notion of what to truly expect from Alexius or Byzantium, no idea of how or if this Crusade would progress. I tell you, if Alexius was here I would not even raise my voice regarding Antioch, it would be his by right, but he is not and we have not seen hide or hair of his main army, even at Nicaea.’
‘He saw you as a threat.’
‘Tancred, he saw us all as a threat. If he did not he would have come to Nicaea himself instead of Tacitus. No Roman emperor can afford to repose trust in any man and Alexius so mistrusted us our back was all he wanted to see.’
‘Which angers you?’
‘No, he acts as he sees in the interests of his empire. I am seeking to persuade the Council of Princes to act on behalf of the Crusade.’
Tancred grinned. ‘But you would like that we Apulians should take possession of Antioch?’
‘The man who held it for Byzantium was titled “Prince”.’ Bohemund laughed out loud, which had been rare these last months. ‘Would that not be one in the eye for a Great Count and a mere Duke of Apulia?’
‘Can we make that happen?’
Bohemund shook his head. ‘Only God can make that happen.’
If Bohemund’s views had struck obstacles with most of the leaders, Hugh of Vermandois was animated by the thought of his banner flying over Antioch, so when a message was sent to him offering to surrender the city, delivered by an Armenian smuggler, he eagerly pursued it and wanted to do so personally. This was a notion Walo of Chaumont, who had been sent to contain his follies, spent much time talking him out of and he only persuaded the Count to desist by offering to meet these Muslim rebels himself.
Every gate into the city had a postern and there were others at various places in the walls, small doors which only one man could pass through at a time and therefore very easy to defend or block up if threatened. In a time of peace these facilitated movement to and from the city, now they were used for smuggling and if the entry points were supposed to be guarded by men of the Crusade, inevitably milities, then a coin slipped into their hand, or food when they had been starving, was not to be sneezed at. If anyone had told Bohemund he would have just laughed; no place he had besieged had ever been sealed off completely and there were always folk within the walls willing to pay for luxuries or just good food, sometimes when the poor were eating weeds.
Walo took with him several knights and they were armed, slipping through the postern one by one on a dark and moonless night, with Vermandois straining to catch sight of them. He did see the door close behind them, but he heard the creak. The thick oak cut off the sounds that followed, that of his brother’s Constable, the man the King of France entrusted to command his armies by his side, having his throat cut, the same fate visited upon those with him.
This was not a loss that could be hidden and Vermandois was obliged, when the heads of those men slaughtered behind the gate were thrown over the walls, to explain what had happened and without his main supporter to advise him he made a poor fist of it. It appeared a chance to gain the city by betrayal; it would have been foolish not to pursue such a possibility and he would do so again if chance offered it. The loss was heartbreaking but how many knights had given their lives in this endeavour? Walo had given his and would be esteemed for it and yes, the Armenian messenger, the smuggler, had not reappeared.
‘Why do your think the message was sent to Vermandois?’ Tancred asked.
‘Yaghi Siyan wanted to warn us off dealing with traitors, on pain of our own death. What better way to despatch such a communication but through the hands of a fool?’
‘He knows that Vermandois is a fool?’
‘Why not? Everyone else does.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The makeshift fort opposite the St George’s Gate, on the site of a long-abandoned shell of a monastery, was more a sieve than a true barrier; while it put a check on the Turks issuing in numbers to raid the lines of communication without warning it could not, and was not designed to blockade that entirely. Nothing demonstrated its vulnerability more than the need to keep it supplied and the efforts of the defenders of Antioch to impede that: every time food and water were brought to the bastion, it took a strong escort and a fight to deliver it.
It was effective at impeding anything of magnitude seeking to enter the city, as were the constant patrols out in the countryside seeking to cut off any supply being brought to the city by the Turks. Despite that, some got through, especially through the still-open Iron Gate, but the Apulians were the last line of obstruction at St George’s and often an effective one. Not long after taking up the position Tancred and his knights captured a sizeable caravan carrying in large quantities things much desired by the Crusaders and even more so by those still inside: food, oil and wine.
When it came to small traders, exclusively Armenian, the gate was as open as it had ever been and once the screw was turned on the others points of access the amount of goods flowing past Tancred’s position, while not a flood, was certainly significant to the ability of Yaghi Siyan to maintain the siege, if not in terms of fighting power, certainly as a means of stifling discontent within the Armenian majority.