Though they remained alert and wary of attack, they saw no sign of the enemy, and were thus able to travel at speed-owing to Taticius and their imperial guides, and the fact that the other crusaders had already passed through and chased any adversaries away. Even so, by the time the latecomers arrived, Nicaea had been under siege for almost a month. Chosen by Sultan Arslan to be his primary fortress, Nicaea sat like a gigantic boulder in the pilgrims' path. They could not advance until the city had been taken. However, situated on a lake and defended by high stone walls and stout, iron-bound gates, Nicaea easily resisted every attack by the crusaders, and appeared happy to go on doing so indefinitely.
As the latest pilgrims came within sight of the besieged city, however, a great cry went up from the enemy warriors massed atop the walls. The arriving crusaders assumed that it was the cowardly Seljuq giving in to their dismay at the sudden appearance of so great a force of excellent horsemen and infantry soldiers arriving fresh to the fight. They exulted in the revelation of fear their imposing presence was inspiring in their quaking adversary, until realizing that the cries were actually shouts of triumph raised for the return of Sultan Qilij Arslan, who was at that very moment sweeping down upon them from the north.
The sultan, they quickly discovered, had been on a raiding campaign and was away from Nicaea when the first Latins arrived. Upon seeing the crusaders encamped around the walls of his capital, Arslan determined to break through the besieging armies and liberate his people without delay. Duke Robert, assuming command of his troops, quickly marshalled the knights and formed the battleline. Pulling the footmen back behind the line to offer support, he waited while the Seljuqs charged. Seeing that the invaders were adamant, and that their own force-a light raiding party only-had lost the small benefit of surprise, the sultan decided not to pursue the attack and broke off after a few half-hearted charges.
At first sight of the enemy retreat, the pilgrims gave chase and succeeded in cutting down a few stragglers before the sultan and his warband disappeared over the hills once more. Miraculously, the first skirmish with the infidel was won at the cost of only one Christian life-a hapless footman who had been struck by a wayward arrow that glanced off a knight's shield and struck him in the neck. The crusaders thanked God for his mercy and joined the siege.
Count Raymond, impatient with the resistance, and worried that the sultan would soon return with a greater force, had commanded siege towers to be constructed so that the crusaders could get men over the walls. They laboured for three days and nights, raising timber frames and bulwarks, in a frantic effort to capture the city before Sultan Arslan reappeared.
The furious industry of the invaders alarmed the population of Nicaea. Each day they watched with growing dread as the towers neared completion. Having seen their sultan run off by these strange new Romans, and fearing the impending slaughter should they take the walls by force, the amir of Nicaea sent an envoy under cover of night to negotiate a peace settlement with the Byzantine commander. The envoy slipped out from the city by way of a water gate on the lake, returning the same way with an escort of imperial troops.
The next morning, when the crusaders rose to begin work on the siege towers, they saw the imperial banner flying above the gate. Raymond, furious over this betrayal, summoned Taticius to his tent and demanded an explanation.
'They wished to surrender,' he said simply. 'As the city formerly belonged to the Basileus, they sought imperial protection. Naturally, I have taken the precaution of manning the garrison and relieving the enemy of their weapons.'
'This is treachery!' Raymond charged, leaping from his chair.
'In what way?' the strategus asked.
'The surrender belongs to me,' the count told him, striking himself on the chest. ‘The towers are nearly finished. We were ready to overrun the city. The victory was mine.’
The wily soldier regarded the tall, thin knight. I do not understand your anger,’ he replied. ‘I thought the object of our exercise was to obtain the surrender of the city, not it’s destruction. Diplomecy is better than bloodshed.’ Tacitus paused, eyeing Raymond with undisguised contempt. ‘Perhaps it was the bloodshed you wanted.’
‘Get out!’ shrieked Raymond, slamming his hand down hard on the board. ‘Get out!’
The strategus bowed stiffly, turned on his heel, and departed, leaving Raymond fuming at the ignominious way in which the surrender had been achieved and his glory had been stolen from him. His anger was quickly forgotten, however, once the assembled lords set about taking control of the city, and the problems began to multiply. For the noblemen could not agree how best to proceed, who should oversee the collection of the tribute, nor even how much the payment should be. Nor did they know what to do with Nicaea itself now that they had conquered it.
Clearly, the city would have to be protected from now on, lest it fall back into the hands of the Sultan Arslan; since it had been his capital, he would certainly attempt to recover such a valuable and strategic asset. Also, one of his favourite wives and some of his children were now captives of the crusaders, and the sultan would no doubt try to free them and revenge himself against those who had embarrassed and humiliated him.
Duke Godfrey argued for leaving a contingent of soldiers behind to man the garrison. ‘For the sake of those travelling on, the city must remain secure,’ he argued. ‘We cannot allow the enemy to cut off our communication with Constantinople. Nor would I care to have these Saracen devils on our tails all the way to Jerusalem.’
Bishop Adhemar agreed. ‘God has granted us the first of many great victories as a sign of his favour, and the high esteem in which he holds our holy enterprise. It would be disrespectful to throw away that which God has so freely given. The city must be claimed for the Pope and the church.’
Bohemond and Tancred had other concerns. ‘The reconquest of the Holy Land is only begun,’ Bohemond pointed out. ‘We will need every soldier in the days to come. The protection of this city would take far too many men, and I am loath to give up a single one.’
'Prince Bohemond is right,' declared Hugh of Vermandois. 'It would be foolish to divide our forces now, so far away from Jerusalem.' The lords of Flanders and Normandy, along with various other noblemen, agreed, adding their voices to Hugh's.
There the thing rested. Clearly, the city required their continued presence to ensure that it remained securely in the crusader's possession. Just as clearly, no one wanted to remove able-bodied fighting men from the campaign when the main objective was still to be accomplished. Also, no one was willing to remain behind in any event, thereby allowing the others all the glory and plunder to be won in the battles to come. The stalemate persisted for a day and a night-until Count Stephen offered the suggestion that a messenger might be sent back to Constantinople informing the emperor that Nicaea had been recaptured and returned to the empire.
'It might be,' Stephen proposed, 'that the Byzantines can spare the troops to secure the city. If they agreed to occupy it, we could continue on our way.'