‘Raymond has sent messengers back to Antioch, nephew, to fetch the English carpenters, as well as a large sum of money to ensure they come in haste, which is something you did not discover in your meanderings.’
Tancred was careful not to smirk; if he was not surprised at the speed with which his lie about Bohemund doing the same had reached the pavilion of the Count of Toulouse, the way it had been acted upon was astonishing.
‘He will have them build a siege tower.’
‘It is a clever notion, Tancred, but not one that favours us if it comes to pass.’
Feeling slighted, Tancred was sharp. ‘Yet it is not a course you would have adopted.’
‘I have sent to Apulia for destriers, which you know very well, just as you can guess from that I lack the depth of Raymond’s purse. Added to that, these carpenters are Anglo-Saxons, even if they came at the behest of King William Rufus. How much more would I have to disburse to get them to work for a Norman who is not their overlord?’
‘Of which I was aware, and others were not, when I threw the stone onto the water.’
‘You?’
There was no need to respond, the truth was in the expression of Tancred’s face, nor was there any requirement to outline the fact that Raymond would no more permit the Apulians to use any siege tower he built, always assuming he could do so, than would be gifted if the positions were inverted; it would be reserved for his own men.
‘So now, Uncle, we must put our minds to how we might take advantage of a weapon of which we will be given no use.’
‘I have a feeling you have thought of that too.’
‘I have.’
‘Let me see if I can guess. Raymond, if he has a siege tower, will draw the defence to the part of the walls at which he sets it …’
‘Leaving gaps elsewhere that we will be able to exploit. I have talked to those who tried the assault before we arrived and failed to overcome the walls.’
‘As did we, nephew.’
‘Even if they lost many of their confreres in the attempt, I was told the defenders seemed not so numerous that they can cover every part of their walls at the same time.’
‘Yet you have in mind to repeat their failure?’ Bohemund responded.
‘I had in mind to do so with a set of sturdy frames, not single ladders.’
That got a slow nod; if it was a rare tactic it was one that had been known to work against a stretched defence. A long climbing frame allowed the attackers to spread out, as well as to ascend in numbers, the effect of that being to also extend the defence. As a tactic singly employed it was less than perfect, but if the Provencals drew the best of the defenders, the small knot of the governor’s retainers, it might get the Apulians over the walls and onto the parapet before Raymond’s men could debouch from their siege tower.
‘I daresay Toulouse had already sent out cutting parties to find suitable timber; I suggest, Uncle, we would be advised to do the same.’
The haste with which those Anglo-Saxon carpenters came from Antioch testified to the fact that Raymond had dug deep into his purse, for they were known to be an avaricious bunch who demanded and received high fees and they had not been idle in a recently captured city in which much required to be rebuilt, not least those mosques reconsecrated as Christian churches, places where their skill at carving was in high demand.
Like all men of their trade — only cathedral-building stonemasons were worse — they had arrogance too, which came from the knowledge that for all their fighting ability the mail-clad knights often required their skills to overcome a stout defence. Antioch had tempered that somewhat, there being only one small section of wall at which a siege tower could be used, so they had been employed in fortress building, bastions that shut access to the gates of a city near impossible to assault.
Ma’arrat an-Numan was not simple either because no tower could get close to the walls due to that deep ditch, added to which, aware of the shortage of time, Raymond was asking for a rough-hewn edifice, not some smooth example of the carpenter’s art. If they were disgruntled to be rushed they were even happier to be well paid and they demanded to be properly fed, which caused resentment in an encampment where food was now being rationed. No fool, Raymond was disbursing his money in stages to ensure he had oversight of their work, while always present in person demanding haste.
The Apulians were busy too, though eager to keep their heavy frames out of sight, buried, once constructed, under piles of brushwood. Any Provencal knight approaching their lines would see the ladders they had built of a standard size and weight, which led to amusement as they contemplated these rivals for plunder enduring the same fate as had been visited on them. Not that their liege lord of Toulouse, or his captains, gifted them much time to gloat, for a roadway had to be made and the dry moat had to be filled in.
The place chosen was adjacent to one of the towers, which, if it told the defenders precisely where the attack would come and by what means — they could hardly avoid observing what was being constructed just out of the range of their archery — also served as a sign of the determination of the attackers to overcome them. The Muslim garrison dare not essay out to disrupt the effort: standing by was a strong force of knights to kill anyone who tried.
Just like the construction of the siege tower, the filling in of the dry moat had to be done with haste: there was no time to construct a bombardment screen as well, so Raymond’s men were obliged to cram it by running towards the wall with a shield over their head and a large stone in their one free hand, that cast at the base of the wall before they could beat a hasty retreat. It was a run for safety that some did not make, either felled by a rock themselves or caught by the burning pitch and oil the defenders cast down on their heads.
‘At least with what they are casting down,’ Bohemund said, his tone mordant, ‘the infidel are contributing to their own downfall.’
Rocks on their own did not suffice to create a crossing over which the wheels of a siege tower could move forward. Once the ditch was filled to a certain point it had to be topped by a combination of pebbles and earth. Day after day the Apulians watched as their Provencal counterparts risked being killed or maimed to make good that pathway, sometimes seeing their efforts washed away by rain, while all the time the siege tower rose behind them, until after ten days the Count of Toulouse pronounced himself satisfied and proper preparations could be made for an assault.
Bohemund sent a message to Raymond offering to act in concert with his men and to attack any point of the walls he chose to allot to them. The reply that came back was uncivil in the extreme: he would prefer Bohemund’s men to stand and observe, but since he could not stop them if they wished to make an assault, it was a matter of indifference to him where they chose to do so.
‘I have had many occasion to regret that we are on Crusade, Tancred, and this is just another one of them. In any other place, on any other purpose and at any time, Raymond and I would have settled this dispute by a contest of arms. Bishop Ademar kept us from that while he was alive.’
‘And now his spirit does the same.’
‘Partly. But who could so throw their reputation to the wolves by engaging in battle with a fellow Crusader?’
Tempted to say that his uncle was equally at fault, Tancred, as he had done these many months, held his tongue. All around him were the sounds of men making ready for battle, swords being honed on stone wheels, mail and the straps that held it tight being checked, as well as the murmured prayers of those who would do battle in the morning, going into action immediately after they had been shriven by the accompanying priests.
It was at these times that men wondered at being in such a place at such a time, thought fondly of home and hearth, perhaps of wives and children, which was a rosy glow not tempered by the knowledge of reality. In their lives they rarely sat by a home-built fire, for they were a caste of warriors who made their way in the world by fighting, not by tending sheep, cattle or hauling a plough along behind the fat arse of an ox.