Tancred was not alone in suspecting he was torn, loath to leave behind the territory he had captured and controlled: what he possessed was unlikely to be respected while he was not there to defend it, hence the unhurried progress. That being so, he also had an excuse, which was the parlous fitness of those he led, especially his fighting men, still not recovered from the lack of victuals that had troubled them at Ma’arrat.
At first they passed through country that had been extensively foraged to sustain that siege, so there was little surplus to fill strained bellies, but there was hope too, for the land that lay ahead and into which he would soon lead his host was extremely fertile and dotted with wealthy cities. It was also, and this was a deep concern, densely populated with Arabs who yielded nothing in the depth of their Islamic faith to the Turk, while the final destination was a place as well defended and formidably walled as Antioch.
News of what the Count of Toulouse had done previously proved his most telling aid: reports of the massacres at Albara and Ma’arrat sped before him, so that the first obstacle to progress, the city of Shaizar straddling the lower Orontes, sent envoys from the Emir to talk peace long before the Crusaders caught sight of their walls. Along with their supplications came gifts for the expedition leaders, a trio of fine horses, caparisoned in gorgeous harness. To Raymond went vessels of gold, for his senior captains elaborate sweetmeats as well as offers of ample food to eat for the entire host as they made their way through the Emir’s territory.
The Arab rulers of Shaizar had, it transpired, no love for the Turks and had manoeuvred successfully over decades to stay independent of their control by the payment of a large annual tribute. They had no desire to either fight their battles or to see their city razed to the ground, their lands ravaged and their subjects slain or sold into slavery by fighting an army that had defeated a mighty general like Kerbogha.
The best way to avoid that was to divert the Turkish tribute to this new power in the land and to make their passage as agreeable as possible, as well as speeding on to the lands of the next satrap. Let others do battle for the Prophet; they would be content to pay the price necessary to avoid conflict.
‘All My Emir asks, Great Lord, is that none of those you lead are left free to take more than we are prepared to openly give.’
Tancred observed the way Raymond’s chest swelled to be so addressed by the Latin-speaking envoy sent from Shaizar, added to the way he looked around the assembly of his captains, his confessors and his fellow peers to ensure it had been noted. That reprised the feelings that had surfaced in his mind over the past week: how different it was to be under the orders of such a man.
That the Count of Toulouse was excessively proud meant little; that he had been aware of for over a year. Yet previously it had been a distant impression, whereas now it was before him as a constant as well as an irritant, and as a way of behaving it did not stand comparison with his uncle, who if he would not surrender an inch in pride to Toulouse, was not a man to allow sycophancy to affect his judgement or even to show that he was moved by it.
‘As a ruler himself, My Emir knows that control of such a host is something only a man of true eminence can achieve. Yet he knows you to be that, has heard of your deeds, Count Raymond, which have sped to the four corners of the earth to make mere mortals wonder at them. Mighty Kerbogha fell before your sword, did he not?’
There was a moment when Raymond was slightly flustered and had a chance to indicate the other men present who had actually fought the Atabeg, though there was no chance he would deny the praise he was receiving for something he was singular in not doing; he could hardly say he had taken to his bed in a fit of pique.
‘He’s going to flatter Raymond till he bursts,’ whispered an irritated Normandy.
Tancred replied by leaning to talk softly into the Duke’s ear. ‘Is there such an amount?’
Raymond noted the exchange, if not the words they employed, and irritation flashed in his eyes. Toulouse was seated on a chair while they were obliged to stand and observe, this to underline that regardless of rank he was the leader. In his hand, as always, he held the shard of the Holy Lance, to which the eye of the envoy had flicked more than once, for news of that discovery, as well as the power it exerted, had been disseminated throughout the land as quickly as the deeds of the Crusade.
‘If all the needs of my people are met, what need have they to disturb the country?’
The envoy used the flat palm of his hand, in a slow and unthreatening gesture, to indicate the Holy Lance. ‘Perhaps if they saw what you hold as a divine requirement, Great Lord, they would see the need to obey Allah as well as their leader.’
Peter Bartholomew, stood to Raymond’s left, cut in without seeking permission, so much had he grown in arrogance. ‘There are many who would demand you and your kind pray to the same God and acknowledge his disciples.’
‘There is but one God,’ the envoy replied, in a soft, non-threatening voice. ‘Allah is his name and Muhammad is his prophet.’
‘We are not here to dispute the path to salvation,’ Raymond snapped, in French and in a clear rebuke to his personal prophet, one that would not be understood by the Emir’s envoy. His eyes then swivelled to Tancred and Robert of Normandy, who were speaking in hushed tones again, and his voice was firm. ‘And no good is served by whispered conversations in the offing, either.’
‘I had a tutor who addressed me so once,’ Normandy replied, also in French, his tone, Tancred thought, deliberately even and non-threatening. ‘When I was old enough to do so I boxed his ears.’
If the envoy and his attendants were confused, they were alone in that; everyone else present understood perfectly that Raymond had overstepped the mark of respect due to a man who held a noble rank greater than his own. If they had harboured any doubts about the effect of his being checked that would have been dispelled by the way the florid face of the Count went a deeper shade of red.
‘We are engaged upon important matters here,’ he protested, ‘and I know you would agree that any sign of dissension will not aid our progress. We are being offered free passage through the Emir’s lands, are we not, but that is because we are united. If this fellow returns to tell him we are divided, what then?’
‘You have the command, My Lord,’ Normandy replied, ‘but if my father was here he would tell you, mighty warrior that he was, that dissension comes very easily from a lack of respect.’
Raymond clearly thought no response was possible without a loss of face so he turned his attention back to the envoy, who had made strenuous efforts to keep his mask of diplomatic indifference in place throughout an exchange, which if he did not understand in words, was plainly fractious in mood.
‘I will let it be known that it would be seen as a sin against God to take from your people anything that is theirs, as long as we are, on our march, not in want.’
With those words spoken, the Holy Lance was raised slightly, which caused the envoy to bow low, while the priests present, led by Narbonne, and joined by the ever-present Peter Bartholomew, crossed themselves.
The Emir of Shaizar was as good as his word: wherever the Crusade set up camp there was food in abundance, fresh-baked bread, roasting meats and fruit, enough for pilgrims and soldiers alike. Disseminated through his priests Raymond had made it known that any depredations against the Emir’s subjects would be severely punished, the truth of that driven home by a couple of his own milities being burnt at the stake in full view of the men sent by the local ruler as escorts, this for the rape of a Muslim woman.
If the Emir wished to speed his passage he found that Raymond was in no rush to clear his lands, for, with such provisions, daily the effect on the army was visible and remarkable. Men who had struggled along head down when they set out from Ma’arrat now marched with heads lifted, the horses they still had likewise filling out until their rib bones no longer showed with alarming prominence.