If they were as proud as Toulouse, Godfrey and Flanders perhaps had more sense. With what they were being told the reasons for delay had been removed; an immediate truce was agreed with their adversary in Jabala and they prepared to march south. Of the entire host Godfrey was the happiest, never having been comfortable with the rupture.
Only when they arrived at Arqa did they discover the threat to be at best a chimera, at worst a downright invention, the latter notion doing nothing for Raymond’s standing and one which destroyed for ever his leadership ambitions, this time not among the princes but in the hearts of the whole non-Provencal fighting element of the host.
What did elevate him, even in the eyes of pious Godfrey de Bouillon, was the sheer amount of money pouring into the Crusaders’ coffers from all over the land, not to mention horses, mules and endless amphorae of wine. Every one-time satrap of the Turk was keen to be on good terms with the reunited Crusade, the new power in the land.
Only Tancred had a jaundiced view of their motives. ‘They wish us gone, and there is no amount of gold, food and horses they will not part with to see our backs.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
The coming together of the crusading princes at Arqa did not put an end to disputes — if anything it intensified them, for Raymond flatly refused to give up on his siege, the purpose of which, when laid against the ultimate aim, made no sense to anyone but him. Godfrey de Bouillon was eager for an immediate departure, Flanders backing his view, but Toulouse would not be shifted and that position was made more intractable when messengers arrived from Constantinople carrying a communication from Alexius Comnenus that made uncomfortable reading.
First he wanted to know by what right the Count of Taranto held on to Antioch when specific undertakings had been made and vows sworn that any possession taken back from the Turks must be handed over to Byzantium? Next he issued what amounted, however diplomatically it was couched, to a demand that the Crusade wait upon him in their present location, prior to his arrival with both an army and a fleet, at which point he would take personal command of the march on Jerusalem.
‘Therefore,’ Raymond insisted, ‘we must do as the Emperor desires and await his arrival.’
‘Just as we waited at Antioch?’ Tancred enquired.
‘This time he will keep his word.’
‘By what divine knowledge do you see this?’
Raymond waved the scroll on which this commitment was inscribed. ‘We have it here.’
‘You have a promise, My Lord, and we all have had near two years to observe the value of an imperial pledge.’
That florid face went a brighter hue, as it always did when Raymond’s anger ran ahead of his tact. ‘How much you sound like your uncle. Might I remind you, Lord Tancred, that your voice in these councils is a courtesy, not merited by your following. You took my silver, are obligate to my banner and for that I expect your loyalty.’
Normandy was quick to react. ‘Am I too obligated?’
‘Less so than Tancred, given your rank and your many lances, My Lord, but for the same reasons, yes.’
‘Would this have anything to do with the siege of Arqa?’ Flanders asked. ‘If we wait for Alexius, that can be maintained.’
‘The two meld, I will not deny it. The siege can be pressed to a success before Alexius gets to us.’
‘He will not come,’ Tancred insisted, ‘and even if he does, are we to bow the knee to a ruler who has so far failed us?’
Godfrey de Bouillon, hitherto silent, but clearly by his expression less than content, finally spoke up before Raymond could reply. ‘Such a delay permits the Fatimids to take a strong grip on Jerusalem. They may make it a city harder than Arqa to capture.’
‘Who is to say it is not that already?’
‘Count Raymond, you of all people know that when al-Afdal’s men took the city from the Turks — and by all the accounts we have he did so with ease — their first task would have been to make it safe from anyone else. It would be reasonable to judge the defences were in poor repair when the Fatimids arrived, which will not be the case the longer we leave them in possession.’
Everyone but Toulouse was in agreement with Godfrey, but as a discussion it went on to be circular, as the two sides covered the same ground time and again with slight variations in their arguments. What was missing, and this was plain to Tancred, was the overarching voice that would draw matters to a conclusion, an authority that had been missing since the death of Bishop Ademar of Puy. Without the consent of all, neither side could safely move so the siege went on, pressed home by Raymond’s men over several weeks, with no more success now than previously: Arqa refused to fall.
The time spent in that allowed for messages to pass back to Antioch, not least the imperial displeasure at it being held by not only a Latin, but by Bohemund of Taranto. Along with that was the news of Alexius’s intention to join the Crusade in the Lebanon, obviously by sea, and then march on Jerusalem, which at least relieved the anxiety that he would come to Antioch first and soon. Not that such a course, even if it was followed, provided security; with the Holy City captured what would Alexius do next?
The answer was obvious and, coming from the south, Bohemund would have a much reduced chance of blocking his way in order to negotiate terms advantageous to him — there were no natural obstacles, narrow easily defended passes like the Cilician Gates, as there were if he came from the north. Whatever, if he had to fight for the city he would.
At the very least Bohemund had decided he would hold Antioch as a subject of Alexius if he had to and could negotiate such a grant in lieu of a costly Byzantine siege. But his ambition raised higher than that: to be, in person and in fact, Prince of Antioch. Yet to achieve that elevated aim he required two things: a reason to hold it that would be admired and some protection.
Ever since he had first written to Rome, his letters had been aimed at getting papal authority to turn it into a Latin bishopric, that eased when John the Oxite finally expired and he blocked the appointment of an Orthodox successor. To achieve his aim, the appointment of a bishop both sanctioned and sent by Rome, he had to create in the mind of the Pontiff and those who advised him a distrust of the motives of Byzantium. Were they truly committed to the Crusade or was it mere territorial expansion gained by the swords and on the backs of those faithful to Rome. Were they dealing in good faith over the matter of the schism or merely leading the donkey of Rome with a carrot on a stick?
The tone of the replies tended to show that doubts were creeping into the papal policy and its attitude to Byzantium. Additional news of the imperial intentions provided another thrust to the impression Bohemund was seeking to create: that of an utterly untrustworthy supposed ally who would never acquiesce in any of the interfaith disputes and, indeed, would grow as a rival to Rome rather than act to create a universal and undivided church.
‘It has to be asked, Your Holiness,’ he dictated to the monk who acted as his scribe, as well as an advisor, ‘why the Emperor, now so keen to march on Jerusalem, was prepared to leave us to our fate at Antioch?’
‘My Lord, every letter I write on your behalf talks of that very same failure.’
‘It cannot be said often enough,’ Bohemund insisted, which was understood to mean leave it in. ‘Now he says that he will march on the Holy City. First, is such a thing to be believed, or will he as he has in the past hang back to let the blood of Christian Europe be spilt, as at Nicaea, only to appear when the spoils are secured?’
‘It might be wise to expand on that, My Lord, and tell Rome again of the way Byzantium has failed to act in the entire march.’