dare not bypass them and leave a garrison of Normans to harry his rear.’
‘A garrison! That dissipates our strength.’
William nearly shook his head emphatically, but resisted: Arduin had to be persuaded, not pressured in agreement. ‘First we garrison them to force the townsfolk to repair their walls, for we have time before the catapan can mount any assault.’
‘A quarter, no more.’
‘Once those walls are repaired it will require very few men to secure both towns against their own people. They can be fully equipped to withstand a siege if we are forced to withdraw, which will set even a powerful attacker a real problem.’
Arduin could not help but look glum: whatever he wanted to do, he could achieve nothing without William Iron Arm and the men he led. The Norman was wondering if he was having cause to regret his insistence of his presence. Time for a touch of flattery, something to which he knew this man was susceptible.
‘And in that quarter you can achieve what no other man can, Arduin. You can raise an army, I cannot, and I promise you, once you have that we will march against the catapan, and under your leadership, with you as our general, we will cast him into the sea.’
‘You can repair these walls in time?’
‘Three months, Arduin? We Normans can build as well as fight, and we can make others labour. Take the surrender of Venosa, and then set out for Lavello. Once both are in your hands, you can send out word to raise men and arms to every town in northern Apulia, and when they come to your banner and observe how we, the Normans, accept you as our leader, they will also see that they have nothing to fear.’
The notion of taking the town, albeit the act was more appearance than conquest, cheered Arduin somewhat, though deep down he had to be aware that there was no alternative. Once joined by the de Hauteville brothers, who made an imposing sight, he spurred his horse, as did William, who made sure he and his brothers stayed to his rear, made sure that those watching from the walls would see clearly who led and who followed, when Arduin called upon them to open the gates.
In this the Lombard was in his element: not for him the mere bare bones of a demand, he was gifted a chance to make another speech, one he took heartily. William had never heard the terms of surrender put in so bloodthirsty a fashion. Not for Arduin a simple threat that to refuse would see the inhabitants given no quarter as demanded by the laws of war. He was a general and he was determined they should know it, and know in detail how their houses would be torched, their possessions plundered, their women used as bitches as they watched each man castrated and suffocated on his own genitals.
‘If he goes on much longer,’ Drogo whispered, ‘those walls will come down completely. Jericho would not have needed trumpets if Arduin had commanded instead of Joshua.’
‘Give him his moment, brother,’ William replied, as the gates opened and a penitent group of the leading citizens emerged, carrying the seals of the town. ‘This is his first act as a general.’
It was a flushed Arduin who turned to his Normans and said, in a voice full of arrogance, ‘William de Hauteville, I desire to take possession of Venosa in my name.’
Given the message coming out of Salerno had been sent to Bari in a Byzantine vessel, the captain of the ship had little difficulty in getting to see the catapan personally and immediately; the communication he carried was an alarming one, doubly so for Michael Doukeianos, who now knew, if what he was being told was true, that in appointing Arduin of Fassano to hold Melfi, he had made a terrible error. Looking around the faces of those assembled to counsel him, the leading Greek officials of the Catapanate, he wondered which one would be the most eager to pass on the tale of his foolishness in trusting a Lombard to his imperial master. Whoever it was, it would not be well received in Constantinople.
‘This information, Excellency, came to me from a reliable source, the servant of a man who has the private ear of the prince.’
‘But not from the Prince of Salerno himself?’
‘No, and he would feel the need to be cautious, nor would he want it known outside his own very close circle that he is not truly master in his own domains.’
‘Who is this man?’
‘The clerk to a very important official.’
‘That, fellow, is the name I want.’
‘I gave my solemn oath to keep that secret.’
‘Well,’ Doukeianos said, in a quiet way that was even more threatening than any shout, ‘it will cost you your lifeblood if you do not answer me.’
The hesitation from the ship’s captain, the look at the ground at his feet as well as the despair in his countenance when he raised his head again, was all display: he knew he had to answer with the truth, for he knew that this catapan was not jesting, and, in truth, why should he risk anything for the protection of a Jew?
‘The man’s name is Kasa Ephraim and he is the collector of the port.’
‘A Jew is collector of the port of Salerno?’ When that got a nod, Doukeianos added, ‘Then this prince is a strange ruler indeed.’
‘I was told that the Prince Guaimar would not hold his title without that the Jew had aided him, and that is why he is so trusted, and not just with the port revenues.’
‘Explain!’
That demand brought forth the story of how Ephraim had aided Guaimar and his sister to escape the clutches of Pandulf, which in turn had led to that man’s downfall and the young man coming into his rightful title.
‘His clerk was adamant that without the Jew he would now languish in Pandulf’s dungeon and that man would still hold Capua. So he counsels the prince in private, and has his ear in all things. According to the collector’s servant the prince is locked in an embrace with the Count of Aversa from which he finds it hard to free himself, since Drengot still has a large force in Campania. He has demanded that the count withdraw his men from the Catapanate, but he lacks the power to insist that he do so.’
‘Rainulf Drengot is in his pay, is he not? The Prince of Salerno is also his lawful suzerain.’
‘It seems the Normans do as they wish, Excellency,’ the captain replied, a remark which set up much nodding and murmuring from the others present. ‘But there is more. The Jew has advised his master to seek intercession from the Western Emperor, to threaten to strip Drengot of his title if he does not obey his prince.’
For the first time Michael Doukeianos showed a trace of temper, his voice rising. ‘Guaimar does not see fit to send word to me.’
‘He fears to betray a fellow Lombard.’
‘Arduin?’
There was a deep satisfaction in the messenger’s response then; he had thought long and hard how to present this story to the catapan, for if the man was feeling generous the reward could be substantial, and paid in gold, of which he would have an abundance. He had decided very early on, hardly out of sight of the bay of Salerno really, to keep the best till last.
‘Not Arduin, Excellency, but the Prince of Benevento.’ That finally brought Michael Doukeianos out of his seat, his face so suffused with fury that the captain recoiled, his voice rising in panic. ‘The Normans have allied themselves to Benevento, and asked that he lead them in Apulia, since Prince Guaimar refused, even to the point of denying them any supplies on the way to Melfi. It did him no service. I am told they stole them anyway.’
The catapan had not resumed his seat and he walked to look out of an opening in the chamber, away from the interior so that his face was hidden. Beneath him lay the port of Bari, full of shipping — but none of that was his own — and surrounding that a town full of people, while behind him, standing and waiting while he ruminated, were the men he had not consulted about appointing Arduin. The sun shone on the sight before him, but not in his heart. He realised now the magnitude of his error: with three hundred Normans in Melfi he would struggle to retake it, but he knew he must try.
Yet he also knew he had been lucky: first in the fact that the Normans were there unsupported by Guaimar, by far the most powerful of the Lombard magnates. Had the Prince of Salerno done otherwise the whole Catapanate would be in jeopardy. He had also found out what was happening well before the news would have filtered down to him overland, so he had gained vital time.
Arduin would not be expecting a response for many weeks, and his first task would be to raise foot soldiers
