The brothers would have discussed it with him if William had been open to such, but he was not. Drogo, for one, would never have married her, but had he made that error he would now be looking for a way to put her aside and find another, not, in his case and given his reputation, necessarily in that order. William would not do either: to his brother he was too upright for his own good.
‘So, Drogo, how do we deal with Argyrus?’ Normally, William would not have posed such a question. While he was happy to listen to advice, it was he who decided what course of action to follow.
‘We could invest Bari.’
‘Not yet.’
‘It is the right thing to do.’ That got him a shake of the head, and that smile which implied secret knowledge. ‘I have often wished, Gill, that you would be more open with me. It is as though you lack trust.’
William’s response was quick, but good-humoured. ‘Only with women, Drogo.’
‘Then why not invest Bari?’ William made to respond but Drogo cut him off. ‘Before you say it is too formidable to capture easily, I know that. It could take a year or more, but at least if we were outside his walls Argyrus would be kept from mischief.’
‘You must see that if we institute a siege it must be carried through to success. We could not afford to fail, regardless of how long it took.’
Drogo nodded. ‘We have the means to win.’
‘One day, Drogo, Bari, and all the other port cities, will either acknowledge we Normans as their overlords or they will burn, but if we were to do that now, to whom would the ultimate gain accrue? Bari defeated would trouble the others, which might bring that which neither they nor we want.’
‘Guaimar as king.’
‘Do not think he has given up his dream. He got his Apulian title by chicanery, if he wants to take the diadem let him get it himself. I will not fight and spill Norman blood to have a crown put on his head.’
‘And your own.’
That made William laugh. ‘Not mine either, Drogo, but perhaps my son or grandson will aspire to it one day.’
‘Then, Gill,’ Drogo hooted, though he did register that William had been more open with him than hitherto, ‘much as it pains me to say so, you must get into your bedchamber this very minute and get busy.’
The summons to attend upon the Emperor Henry at Capua came at an awkward time: Argyrus was doing that which William predicted, raiding out from Bari, but always with a line back to his base should he be threatened, which had Norman cavalry engaging in fruitless and dispiriting pursuit, for he never let himself be faced by a combination which included soldiers on foot. He was also showing a skill William never thought he possessed, which made him wonder if there was a secret direction behind his actions, a proper soldier.
Whatever the Lombard traitor did, it had to be ignored, for Henry could not be: to do so would risk such an affront that it would turn the emperor against the whole de Hauteville family, and the consequences of that could be enormous. Yet it was also an opportunity: provided the price of vassalage was not too high he might be able to acquire imperial confirmation of his title, and his brothers likewise. The dukedom of Apulia might be recognised as well, which would not be to his liking and could create future difficulties with Guaimar, but the solution to that would have to be left to time. Also paramount was the need that his wife should accompany him, not a notion that was well taken: Berengara refused point-blank.
‘You will accompany me even if I have to lash you to a litter,’ said William. ‘I will not be embarrassed before the emperor by your absence.’
‘And I suppose your little shepherd girl will be taken along to provide you comfort?’ Berengara responded, her voice, as it always was, dripping with bile. ‘There will be no embarrassment there, I think.’
‘If you refuse me comfort-’
‘Do not pretend you would not use us both in a like manner if I allowed it.’
‘I will use you as I have the right to as your husband.’
‘Then make sure we do not pass a monastery, for if I have the chance I will escape and slam the doors behind me.’
‘Which I will burn down.’
‘Not because you value me.’
‘Bear me sons and I will leave you in peace.’
‘Any son I bear you I would strangle at birth.’
‘This is futile,’ William yelled. ‘Make yourself ready for the journey, and when we get into the company of the emperor hold your tongue or, believe me, you will make the return journey in a penitent shroud and bare feet, lashed to a rope that will be tied to my horse’s tail.’
William would have been surprised if, having stormed out of the chamber, he had returned moments later: Berengara was in floods of tears, for this was not the life she had imagined for herself.
‘I cannot take you with me, little one.’
William felt the head lying in the crook of his shoulder jerk, but Tirena did not sob, as he feared she might, even when they were upright and facing each other, but she made no secret of her unhappiness, which made him feel wretched. Nor did he really want to explain to her that he must, in the imperial presence, behave properly, for there was much at stake. This Henry was reputed to be a principled fellow much taken with prayer and confession, not long wed, who might take a dim view of someone attending upon him in the company of an obvious concubine.
How different it was when he was with this girl. She made him laugh, she made him happy and she brought out in him a love of the bawdy, a side of his character he kept hidden from even his own brothers, who saw him as somewhat dour. Had she been of the right blood he would have wed her in an instant, not least because she so wanted to please him, a feeling he had to be guarded about reciprocating.
William actually fretted about raising her hopes: the girl knew his marriage was far from blissful, just as she knew it was not based on affection. He realised that one day, even if it would render him miserable, he might have to send her away: should fortune favour him with an heir, he would not raise the boy in close proximity to such an evident mistress. She would never starve: he would help her to find a husband and provide for any children she had, and he reassured himself the course he had in mind was the right one; but would he not be as miserable as she?
The ride into Capua, from his tented encampment, on the day appointed for the synod, brought back many memories, not least that in this locality Normans were not loved: the looks they received from the population as they made their way from city gates to the castle left them in no doubt that time had not abated the fear Capuans had of these blond, blue-eyed warriors. Then it had been just him and Drogo, now it was all six of the brothers de Hauteville: even Robert was in his entourage, riding alongside the litter in which sat Berengara, the drapes firmly closed.
But there were other memories, more pleasant: it was here he had ceased to merely be a mercenary lance without patrimony and had become, or so he thought, heir to the County of Aversa. He had ridden up to the gates of the twin barbicans of the castle he was now approaching as an imperial messenger, to demand its surrender. Now he was coming to it as a warlord in his own right, older and, he hoped, wiser.
The walls and gate were manned by imperial troops, Swabians by the look of their accoutrements and speech, who demanded to know his name and title before allowing him admission to the inner keep, this accompanied by suspicious looks at the powerful escort of fifty lances William had fetched along. From there, once dismounted, the senior members of the party made their way to the great hall he had visited so often in the past, in more disordered times.
Guaimar was already present in all his pomp, as was the Abbot of Montecassino, who looked daggers at them, as he would at any Norman, while on a dais sat two men. One, young and fresh of face he took to be Henry, the other, given his pontifical garb and his great age, undoubtedly the Pope. Rainulf was standing by the aisle, with a stalwart-looking young fellow by his side who William suspected might be his nephew, Richard, news of whose arrival from Normandy had filtered through to Melfi. Clearly, if it was, and given his presence at such a gathering, he already had the ear and trust of his uncle.