sires as Dukes of Franconia, but it was an inheritance few referred to.
‘However,’ William continued, ‘we did not come here to trade low opinions.’
‘Why did you come?’
‘To inform you of what progress Guaimar of Salerno made with the Lord of Aversa.’
‘And where is Guaimar?’
‘With his sister, staying as a guest of Rainulf.’
‘Hostages?’
‘I said guests, Highness,’ William responded, in a sharp and disrespectful tone. ‘If they were hostages I would have termed them so.’
‘It does not do to show arrogance to my title.’
‘Hear them,’ the Abbot wheezed, ‘I beg you. No more blood should be spilt.’
‘Very well, Theodore, for you I will talk with them.’ He made a peremptory gesture that had their horses taken from them. ‘Leave your weapons outside.’
William nodded, Conrad being unarmed, and removed his sword and knife, Drogo doing likewise. The emperor spun on his heel, taking the abbot’s bony arm to help him along and, removing a small sack off their horse, the brothers followed them into the tent, the courtiers at their heels regarding them with deep suspicion. On a great square table lay maps of the country surrounding Capua, and on another table stood a model of Pandulf’s castle, the river and the bridge, made of wood.
‘They are frantically repairing the walls,’ William said, pointing at the model. ‘This is more complete than the real article.’
‘You came from Capua?’
‘We stopped there to collect the Abbot Theodore.’
‘Nothing else?’
William opened the sack and took out the gold crucifix, placing it on the map. ‘Prince Pandulf bade us make you an offer to secure peace…’
‘You will waste your breath in doing so,’ Conrad interrupted, ignoring the object and looking once more at the old divine. ‘His crimes are too great.’
‘…of three hundred pounds of gold.’
It was telling how much that amounted to; every one of these noble magnates attending the emperor was bound to be rich, but to a man they gasped at the mention of such a sum. Even Conrad, who had more self-control, was clearly impressed. He picked up the crucifix and examined it.
‘He has that much to offer me, a sum I would struggle to match?’
‘It is what he says he has, and knowing him I would believe it.’
‘What wrongs he must have afflicted on his fief to be so rich.’
‘We also persuaded Pandulf to release the Archbishop of Capua,’ Drogo said.
Conrad was looking at the old abbot, now seated and nodding, when he asked why.
‘So he could not use him for the purposes of bargaining.’
‘As if his gold is not enough,’ Conrad replied, then seeing the questioning look on Drogo’s face he added, ‘and it is not.’
William spoke again. ‘That is not the purpose of our coming here and we do not come as representatives of Pandulf or his money. If you take Capua you will take his gold. We come to offer you the support of the Lord of Aversa, on the terms agreed with Guaimar of Salerno.’
‘Leave us,’ Conrad said, abruptly, looking at his advisors. There was a certain amount of shuffling and confusion, not to mention affront, until they obeyed. Looking down at the abbot, he saw the old man had his head on his chest; he had fallen asleep. ‘Guaimar proposed what we agreed?’
‘He did.’
‘So Rainulf will stand aside?’
‘No, he will join with you.’
‘I do not need him to do that. If his force is not in the field I can easily besiege Pandulf.’
‘I know that, Conrad Augustus, but Rainulf will join you.’
‘Why?’
‘To have a say in any peace. Pandulf’s men are Normans and they are our brothers. We would not see them suffer for their service.’
‘They have taken Pandulf’s gold, perhaps they should experience his fate.’
‘What will that be?’
‘To be skinned alive in a public place perhaps, or to have his heart torn from his living body. Maybe he will be placed in a sack with a cat and a snake, then thrown into the nearest deep water. Whatever his fate the world will be rid of him for good.’
‘And your conscience will be clear.’
That brought forth a smile. ‘I am the anointed Holy Roman Emperor. My conscience is always clear.’
Conrad moved over to the table and looked at the maps, pointing the top of the crucifix he was still holding at the city. ‘It is always your way, you Normans. Whatever defeats others suffer you ride away. Perhaps it is time some of your kind learnt the harsh lesson of losing.’
‘What purpose would that serve?’ demanded Drogo.
‘As a warning.’
‘If you insist on such a lesson, Rainulf must oppose you. He will not stand by and see his confreres put to the sword.’
Drogo had to avoid looking at William; this was another gambit which had not been discussed with him, indeed he wondered if William had just made it up. But he could see where it led; the effect would be obvious. Conrad would be anticipating a siege of Capua, no easy prospect, while Pandulf was clearly, judging by the supplies he was garnering, preparing to hold out for a year.
He still thought he had the support of Rainulf, a force it would be wise to keep out in the field, one that could seriously disrupt the imperial host in both siege maintenance and, more importantly, in foraging. Every party sent out would have to be strong enough to face ambush from a Norman force that, challenged by superior numbers, would melt into the mountains and draw off men from Capua. That would extend the time it would take to subdue the place; could the emperor stay long enough to enforce his will?
Many a siege had been abandoned because it just went on too long. Those inside a fortress might be reduced to near starvation, but the men outside faced just as many difficulties, not least the threat of disease which always seemed to affect a host which stayed too long in one place. In any case, holding an army together was no easy task: tempers frayed, supporters became fractious and rationing became more and more troublesome.
But let Pandulf see Rainulf ride as a friend into Conrad’s camp and he would know his cause was lost. Without an external enemy the imperial army could forage far and wide, send away detachments to ease the supply and disease problems without fear that they would be attacked and decimated. And it was obvious that the emperor, thinking on the same subject, and studying that model of the formidable fortress he needed to take, would of necessity come to the same conclusions.
Conrad actually did that. He moved to stand by that wooden model, his finger tracing the various difficulties Capua represented. Pandulf had to be chastised, but how many men would expire to achieve such a need, and what of the possibility, one any sensible commander had to consider, of failure? If he could not show his power to chastise in Campania, the whole of the imperial domains in Italy could be affected; many a noble lord between Rome and the Brenner Pass would think he too could defy the emperor.
‘And what happens to these men?’
‘Many originally served with Rainulf. Let them do so again.’
‘That is a bargain fraught with danger. Did you discuss this with Guaimar?’
‘No.’
‘Then let me speak for him, for I can tell you what he would say. He will be Duke of Salerno and Prince of Capua, but he would not be happy to have in his midst a host of Norman lances powerful enough to depose him any time they wish, which would be after I am no longer there to protect him.’ He looked down at the still-slumbering abbot, and added. ‘I doubt Theodore, saintly as he is, would welcome that either.’
The implications of that were obvious. Montecassino, given the wealth its lands produced, was a tempting
