disappeared into the purple folds of his face.
Berengara tilted her head and sneered. ‘If I were a man you would have been dead years ago, Rainulf, and the rest of your Norman pigs as well. I’d rather trust a Saracen than you-’
‘Stop,’ Guaimar shouted, though whether at his still-wailing daughter or his sister no one could initially tell. ‘Sister, you go too far.’
‘Brother,’ she replied, as Sichelgaita took to whimpering: the shout had alarmed her. ‘You have never gone far enough.’
‘A ruler cannot always do that which he wishes, however tempted he might be.’ There would have been silence, if it had not been for the sound of Rainulf Drengot storming out of the chamber. ‘There goes the only hope I had, Berengara, of enforcing my will on those gathered here, and not for the first time your tongue has run ahead of your brain.’
‘I will not be chastised for speaking the truth.’
‘I think the problem is, sister, you have never been chastised for anything, but I tell you, this day you have forfeited something, and I think you may come to regret it. Now, leave me, all of you, and someone go to William de Hauteville and ask him if he would attend upon me.’
‘William,’ Guaimar said, in a friendly tone, ‘are you unwell? You look pale.’
‘A fever, no more. It will pass.’
‘It has come to the point where you and I must talk.’
Not willing to let him forget, William responded. ‘Have we not talked in the past?’
The prince nodded, even if he looked less than pleased to be reminded of the divide-and-conquer game he had played between William and Rainulf. But he was still the most powerful lord in Campania, so he was not about to let pass such an obvious admonishment. His voice was sleek with insincerity as he responded, saying to this Norman very much the same as he had earlier said to his sister.
‘The needs of state come before private inclinations.’
‘And that is more true now than when I sought your help.’
Guaimar had to look away then: this damned Norman had found a sharp way to tell him the boot was now on the other foot. ‘You did not speak at the great gathering, as others did.’
‘I had nothing to say.’
‘You must have…’ Guaimar waved his arms, as if the word would not come.
‘You have changed since first we met.’
Both would have little trouble in recalling that encounter, with William forcing the young man, an innocent in negotiation, to be open about that which he wished to conceal. How different Guaimar was now: as devious and conniving as every other Lombard magnate in the south of Italy.
‘I was a disinherited youth then. I am not that now.’
‘No, you are a man and a prince, but if you can recall that first meeting you will also remember that I am not one to waste my breath, nor am I inclined to weave spells before making my case. I prefer to talk plain and to the point.’
‘Are you daring to rebuke me for the way I go about my affairs?’
‘I am daring to say to you that you have in mind words to use. Offer me what you have so that I may judge its worth. I am too weary for your sport.’
‘You are so sure I have something to offer?’
‘I am sure you have no choice but to make me one.’
‘You get above yourself,’ Guaimar replied, with a hiss, for the first time letting his frustration show.
‘Is it really necessary for me to spell out that which you already know, that you have no power in Apulia unless I agree to it? I asked you to remind Rainulf of his obligation to me in the matter of the succession to Aversa, but you chose to play the prince and deny my claim. Now I can claim what I want.’
‘No, William, you can make a claim but it will have no legitimacy unless I agree. Swords and lances count for much, but they do not count for everything. You may choose to give yourself a title, you may accept the acclamation of those you lead, but it will be a bastard one unless you have a suzerain.’
‘I will settle for a title that matches that of Rainulf.’ Guaimar was nodding, but that stopped as William added, ‘So will my brothers.’
‘What!’
‘Land and titles.’ He nearly said ‘except Robert’, but decided not to bother. ‘And then, whatever elevation you visit upon yourself, we will kneel before you and swear fealty.’
‘What about the port cities?’
‘Give them free status. You might as well since they will not agree to anything else, and, Prince Guaimar, there is enough land and wealth in Apulia. You do not need them too.’
The next words from the prince were bitter. ‘Anything else about which you would wish to advise me?’
‘Just one, sire,’ for the first time granting the prince the kind of respect to which he was accustomed. ‘It would cement the arrangements if you were to grant me your sister’s hand in marriage. I might add, I will agree to nothing else if you do not assent to that.’
If William had slapped Guaimar, Prince of Salerno, he would not have produced a more shocked reaction.
Guaimar, left alone after that talk, had much on which to ruminate: he had tried to marry Berengara off more than once, to various Lombard dukes of places like Teano and Gaeta, and even a nephew of Naples, but such attempts had foundered on her insistence on marrying a man of her own choosing. Really, he should have put his foot down long ago: he was a ruler, she no more than a woman, to be used as a diplomatic pawn to keep safe their patrimony. That was how alliances had been gained and cemented since time immemorial.
Yet he knew why he had acquiesced: it was her bravery and that shared past of daring escape and difficulties. He recalled now how, aged no more than fourteen years, she had offered him her jewels, this to facilitate his escape from Salerno and the clutches of the cruel and rapacious Pandulf of Capua. He had already tried to rape her and would no doubt make a second and more successful attempt. Guaimar would get away; she was willing to stay and face what she must.
Likewise in Bamberg she had played cat and mouse with the Emperor Conrad, a man like any other, who had seen before him a beautiful young lady not averse to his advances. Berengara would have surrendered her virtue if it had been called for; she had made that clear to him. That it had not been required did not lessen the proposed sacrifice.
Yet there was no doubt that since then he had overindulged her, a fact made obvious by the way she had insulted Rainulf to his face. Her tongue had ceased to be a weapon and become for him a liability, and that had been plain to see in the distressed faces of those courtiers who had been present earlier, it being a look he had observed before. Salerno needed her to act as a princess should, not, as she thought, a woman acting as his equal.
Odd, thought Guaimar as he prepared to confront her, in all my decisions as a prince, this might prove the hardest.
‘Never. I would rather take the veil.’
‘I must tell you, sister, that is your choice, for I will not be gainsaid in this. Policy requires it and you must succumb.’
Guaimar could see she was hurt, her eyes left him in no doubt, and he knew why: he had never spoken to her like this before — he had always been a brother not a ruler. ‘We are no longer children, to play games as we wish.’
‘So I must play what game you choose?’
‘If I could have it otherwise, I would, but everything I have set out to achieve here in Apulia will come to nought unless you agree.’
She shouted then. ‘You are asking me to marry a Norman, to be brought to the bed of a man from a tribe I despise, to have me lie beneath him as he uses me as his chattel and to bear his children, who I will despise also!’
