‘Honour and prudence are not always compatible.’
The pause which followed seemed longer than it was in actual time, as each man waited for the other to voice the conclusion. Finally it was Guaimar who broke the silence, but he knew, given Richard’s response to his first mention of Melfi, it would be unwise to be too direct.
‘When I heard that Drogo de Hauteville had assumed Bras de Fer’s title, my initial response was anger, for his presumption and also for the sake of my sister’s then unborn child.’
‘Truly it is a pity she bore a girl. A male nephew in place might have gone a long way to restoring that which the emperor removed.’
Richard said that with a wry expression: Guaimar was in no position to challenge the imperial dispensations and they both knew it.
‘I admit that was a consideration, but then I thought on this. How could a child, even if Berengara had borne a lusty and healthy son, not only lead the Normans in Apulia but control them?’ Richard did not respond so Guaimar continued. ‘I think we both know that the two go hand in hand.’
‘I cannot do the same as Drogo.’
‘He was acclaimed. I am told he was fearful to accept and I am bound to enquire, though you seem to share that reluctance, why your case is different.’
Richard hesitated to speak, as though the answer required some thought, but Guaimar knew that to be prevarication: he must have considered this deeply. ‘Drogo now leads a force very different from the men of Aversa, more mixed, lances from many different parts of Italy who came to join only after the successes achieved by his brother. They care only for what profit will come to them from conquest.’
‘And the men here do not?’
‘Captains like Turmod have served my uncle for decades, have lived here for all that time, and there are others of the same mould.’
For all this fencing, both men knew what Guaimar wanted: a guaranteed commitment from Rainulf’s nephew to take his side against Pandulf. Richard knew, regardless of his wishes, the Normans of Aversa would be caught in the middle of any Lombard dispute, and right at this moment he was unwilling to pledge to anyone, not prepared to place any faith in the promises he would receive from both Salerno and Capua. If Rainulf had gone, he had not done so without making sure his nephew understood his task was to protect that which the Normans had gained.
Yet he had died still not married to Hermann’s mother, still waiting for a papal dispensation, although the new Pope Clement had promised it would be forthcoming at Capua, which left Richard in the same position as Drogo de Hauteville: for all that a goodly number of the men he now led were loyal to Rainulf’s memory, just as many would not bow the knee to a child, and a bastard one at that.
Good sense dictated he put the boy aside and assume the title of count in his own name, yet Guaimar, who wanted him to take that route, also had to consider what he was being told: such an open declaration might split the men of Aversa asunder, which would leave the whole of Campania, and Salerno in particular, with the worst of both worlds, having to treat with multiple Norman leaders instead of one.
‘I was Rainulf’s suzerain, so it falls to me to confirm the title of whosoever succeeds him.’
Ultimately it was up to the emperor, but he was far away in Germany; Guaimar was sitting opposite. ‘True, as long as it is accepted.’
Ever wily, Guaimar saw the solution clearly. ‘It is also my right, should an acceptable heir to a title be in his minority, as Hermann is, to appoint his legal guardian. I take it if you were granted that office it would be accepted by all?’
‘I think it would.’
‘Then we require that the men Rainulf led be gathered, along with Hermann and his mother, so that I can promulgate such a dispensation.’
Guaimar was smiling at Richard Drengot, not just because matters had been satisfactorily concluded. He was wondering if, having had power and having to exercise it for at least a decade, his honour to his uncle’s memory would stay so strong he would be able to give it up.
No man, unless his election was mired in corruption, came to the papacy in the first flush of youth, and Clement was no exception: the one-time Bishop of Bamberg had been in his sixties when Henry brought him south, and travelling for nearly a year had taken its toll on a man more accustomed to a cloistered life. Few popes reigned for long periods, and that did nothing for the stability by which the Holy See was governed. Nor was any deposed pope, still living, free from a desire to resume a position which brought with it great wealth and the ability to dispense much munificence in both money and lucrative offices.
When Clement passed on there was much talk of his being poisoned, an accusation which attended the death of any man who had been pontiff. That was added to by the way the once deposed Benedict resumed his occupation of St Peter’s until a newly elected pope arrived from the north. Clement’s successor, again sent by the Emperor Henry from Bamberg, lasted no more than twenty-three days before he too went to meet his Maker, both events stirring the endemic and centuries-old dispute between the convocation of cardinals and the emperor about who had the right to choose the next incumbent.
Yet both wanted a strong pope, albeit Henry did not desire one who would challenge his authority, and for once, when they were called together to elect a successor, they were in utter agreement about the next candidate. Bruno, the Bishop of Toul, was not only a divine, he was also a soldier who had led part of an imperial army under Conrad. Tall, strong of limb and with russet hair, the Alsatian-born Bruno was imposing in person as well as piety, but he was also a man known for his steely determination.
While he was happy to accept the nomination from the bishops and abbots of Germany and Italy, as well as the emperor, Bruno, like Clement before him, insisted he would not take up the office unless the people of Rome accepted him also. Thus, dressed in simple pilgrim garb, he made his way to the Eternal City and by this straightforward approach won the hearts and affections of the most cynical populace in Europe, and was thus consecrated to universal acclaim as Pope Leo IX.
The office he came to still had all the problems faced by his predecessors: endemic simony, where rich benefices were traded for money payments to candidates who cared not for their flocks but for the profit of the place. Indulgences sold to forgive the most heinous sins and tithes that should have been commuted to Rome for the upkeep of the church spent, instead, by those who collected them, on personal luxury.
Leo had forced from the Emperor Henry a reaffirmation of his temporal rights in the Papal States, as well as an imperial admission that Benevento was a fief of St Peter’s and his responsibility. Hearing this, the people of Benevento, having found the Normans to be unpleasant masters, sent envoys to plead for mercy, and they also wished for protection from increasing pressure on their entire principality from the Normans. Leo lifted the excommunication and promised to visit their city to ascertain for himself the extent of Norman depredations.
Added to that problem were the ongoing conflicts to the south of his territories: as Guaimar fought with Pandulf, Naples played both off against each other, the people of Amalfi rose in revolt, to be severely crushed, this while the Normans of Aversa increasingly encroached on the lands of Montecassino, while their counterparts in Apulia seemed to have lost all cohesion and turned from war to outright banditry.
An active fellow, Leo set off south himself, to find out what could be done to both protect his own states and bring some order to those between them and the toe of Italy. Once in the Principality of Benevento, and seeing for himself how it was being ravaged, he set out for Salerno, summoning Drogo de Hauteville to meet him there. To both he and Guaimar, he would bring to bear the entire authority of this new and muscular papacy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
William de Hauteville had been right to consider Argyrus, on first acquaintance, to be somewhat callow, if far from stupid. What he had failed to discern in the young man was an ability to learn and to do so quickly. In deserting the Lombard cause his sole prompt had been the certain conviction that their whole stated dream was based on either hypocrisy or personal ambition of such a high order, from the likes of Guaimar of Salerno, as to render that dream unattainable. He was also aware that for all the mouthed platitudes about his father Melus, he, as his son, was a tool to be used, not a person to be elevated.
