‘Argyrus is safe as long as he stays within the walls of Bari.’
‘Which he will not,’ William replied, with a weary expression. ‘He must come out and seek to retake the Catapanate.’
‘He cannot do that, Gill, unless Constantinople gives him a powerful army and no other city has declared for him. Nothing has altered.’
‘Sadly, no.’
‘You did not think it to be over so soon?’ Drogo asked.
‘No, but I confess to being fatigued with war.’
Drogo grinned. ‘I admit you look peaked. Is that not too much activity in the bedchamber, Gill, keeping two women content?’
‘Such exertions never harmed you.’
‘I think you have told me often, brother, we are very different.’
Said with humour, Drogo could not fail to notice that William was indeed looking drained, and if it was not by endless warfare and intrigue, it could just as easily be brought on by his assumption of too much responsibility. The fever he had suffered from previously had abated, but the marks of it were upon him. Nor did he allow himself respite: he took everything on his shoulders and he had a set of brothers and subordinates happy to let him carry the burden. The jest about the bedchamber could not hide the fact that he had other concerns.
Like his brothers, the title of count, by which William was known, had been granted to him by the acclamation, to be reluctantly confirmed by Guaimar in his capacity as the self-styled duke of the province, in itself a suspect creation. It was one that was open to challenge as to its legitimacy, for only the power of his sword and the ability of the men he led made it real. Not wishing to be beholden to any other power, the only way to make it more than that was by the continuous application of force of arms, so in time it came to be accepted by all.
Added to that, William needed to produce an heir, a child who would cement his position in the same way little Hermann had done for Rainulf, in fact he could go one better, for a child of his present union might have a future claim on Salerno and Capua. He never mentioned it, but he had, like any man who had risen as high as he, dynastic ambitions for his bloodline.
Never spoken of, William de Hauteville still felt the slur of being refused recognition as a blood relative of the House of Normandy. He longed one day that an heir of his would treat with a Norman duke as an equal. The way to wipe out that old affront was not only to gain his own title but to pass that and more on to a legitimate heir who would, in turn, have sons of his own.
Despite his efforts, and they were resolute because they needed to be, Berengara showed no sign of becoming with child. It was no secret that nothing had happened to abate her hatred for Normans, and if that had at one time been concentrated on Rainulf, it had moved from him to William. Her strength of feeling was as strong as ever, and that applied to her determination. Every conjugal act was a battle bordering on force and she had to be kept away from any public gathering so that her insults would not be aired in a way that diminished her husband.
The brothers would have discussed it with him if William had been open to such, but he was not. Drogo, for one, would never have married her, but had he made that error he would now be looking for a way to put her aside and find another, not, in his case and given his reputation, necessarily in that order. William would not do either: to his brother he was too upright for his own good.
‘So, Drogo, how do we deal with Argyrus?’ Normally, William would not have posed such a question. While he was happy to listen to advice, it was he who decided what course of action to follow.
‘We could invest Bari.’
‘Not yet.’
‘It is the right thing to do.’ That got him a shake of the head, and that smile which implied secret knowledge. ‘I have often wished, Gill, that you would be more open with me. It is as though you lack trust.’
William’s response was quick, but good-humoured. ‘Only with women, Drogo.’
‘Then why not invest Bari?’ William made to respond but Drogo cut him off. ‘Before you say it is too formidable to capture easily, I know that. It could take a year or more, but at least if we were outside his walls Argyrus would be kept from mischief.’
‘You must see that if we institute a siege it must be carried through to success. We could not afford to fail, regardless of how long it took.’
Drogo nodded. ‘We have the means to win.’
‘One day, Drogo, Bari, and all the other port cities, will either acknowledge we Normans as their overlords or they will burn, but if we were to do that now, to whom would the ultimate gain accrue? Bari defeated would trouble the others, which might bring that which neither they nor we want.’
‘Guaimar as king.’
‘Do not think he has given up his dream. He got his Apulian title by chicanery, if he wants to take the diadem let him get it himself. I will not fight and spill Norman blood to have a crown put on his head.’
‘And your own.’
That made William laugh. ‘Not mine either, Drogo, but perhaps my son or grandson will aspire to it one day.’
‘Then, Gill,’ Drogo hooted, though he did register that William had been more open with him than hitherto, ‘much as it pains me to say so, you must get into your bedchamber this very minute and get busy.’
The summons to attend upon the Emperor Henry at Capua came at an awkward time: Argyrus was doing that which William predicted, raiding out from Bari, but always with a line back to his base should he be threatened, which had Norman cavalry engaging in fruitless and dispiriting pursuit, for he never let himself be faced by a combination which included soldiers on foot. He was also showing a skill William never thought he possessed, which made him wonder if there was a secret direction behind his actions, a proper soldier.
Whatever the Lombard traitor did, it had to be ignored, for Henry could not be: to do so would risk such an affront that it would turn the emperor against the whole de Hauteville family, and the consequences of that could be enormous. Yet it was also an opportunity: provided the price of vassalage was not too high he might be able to acquire imperial confirmation of his title, and his brothers likewise. The dukedom of Apulia might be recognised as well, which would not be to his liking and could create future difficulties with Guaimar, but the solution to that would have to be left to time. Also paramount was the need that his wife should accompany him, not a notion that was well taken: Berengara refused point-blank.
‘You will accompany me even if I have to lash you to a litter,’ said William. ‘I will not be embarrassed before the emperor by your absence.’
‘And I suppose your little shepherd girl will be taken along to provide you comfort?’ Berengara responded, her voice, as it always was, dripping with bile. ‘There will be no embarrassment there, I think.’
‘If you refuse me comfort-’
‘Do not pretend you would not use us both in a like manner if I allowed it.’
‘I will use you as I have the right to as your husband.’
‘Then make sure we do not pass a monastery, for if I have the chance I will escape and slam the doors behind me.’
‘Which I will burn down.’
‘Not because you value me.’
‘Bear me sons and I will leave you in peace.’
‘Any son I bear you I would strangle at birth.’
‘This is futile,’ William yelled. ‘Make yourself ready for the journey, and when we get into the company of the emperor hold your tongue or, believe me, you will make the return journey in a penitent shroud and bare feet, lashed to a rope that will be tied to my horse’s tail.’
William would have been surprised if, having stormed out of the chamber, he had returned moments later: Berengara was in floods of tears, for this was not the life she had imagined for herself.
‘I cannot take you with me, little one.’
William felt the head lying in the crook of his shoulder jerk, but Tirena did not sob, as he feared she might, even when they were upright and facing each other, but she made no secret of her unhappiness, which made him
