‘Luckily so,’ declared Tatikios fervently. ‘You, Demetrios, are charged with ensuring my safety. You are supposed to guard against rumours and betrayals.
I bowed my head, and said nothing. I could guess why I might have failed.
‘But if the conspiracy has been discovered and the murderer captured, then why are you leaving?’ Sigurd broke in. ‘To abandon the siege now would be—’
Tatikios drew himself up in his chair, and fixed a haughty stare on Sigurd. ‘I do not abandon the siege, Captain. If you suggest that I do, I will have you dragged across Anatolia in chains to learn humility.’
The axe seemed to tremble in Sigurd’s hands, but he kept silent.
‘This wretch, I fear, is only one gust in a storm.’ Bohemond gestured to the prisoner. ‘There is a whirlwind brewing in my camp – and among all the Franks – and I cannot pledge to halt every evil they may concoct.’
‘If it were only my own safety, that would matter nothing,’ said Tatikios stiffly. ‘But there are other concerns, higher duties. If we are to prosecute this siege to its end, we shall need reinforcements. The Emperor is campaigning in Anatolia – I will undertake an embassy to persuade him to advance swiftly in all his power and might.’
Bohemond nodded. ‘A wise plan. Although . . .’
‘What?’
‘If you leave now, while our prospects seem bleak, there will be many in the camp who misconstrue your motives. Some will talk of fear – others, perhaps, of cowardice. And if they think the Greeks have abandoned them, they may even believe themselves released from their oath to your Emperor, free to seize whatever lands they can.’
‘They will soon find their error when the Emperor returns.’
‘It would be easier if you left some token of your trust, evidence to persuade my companions to adhere to the Emperor. If you were to confirm one of our number in possession of lands, for example, none could deny the good faith of the Greeks. It need not even be lands that you already possess,’ Bohemond added, seeing the doubt on Tatikios’ face. ‘If you assigned future conquests to our charge – under the Emperor’s authority, of course – you would prove your good will at little cost.’
Bohemond could not hide the hunger in his voice, nor in his eyes, as he stared down on the eunuch. Tatikios, to his credit, did not look away, but gazed back as impassive as if he were in the Emperor’s palace. I hoped he could see the doubt written bold across my face.
‘You speak wisely, Lord Bohemond,’ he said at last. ‘I would not desire my departure to become a pretext for any man breaking his oath. Any who did would surely be called to a reckoning before God and my Emperor. As a sign of my earnest desire for friendship and favour between our peoples, I will do as you suggest.’
I fancied that I saw Bohemond’s tongue shoot out like an adder’s, licking his lips in expectation.
‘Your nephew Tancred currently claims the lands of Mamistra, Tarsus and Adana in Cilicia. I confirm them in his possession, as vassal to the Emperor.’
A spasm passed through Bohemond’s back as if he had been struck by a lance. ‘The lands of Cilicia were taken from Armenians,’ he protested, unable to keep the wound from his voice. ‘They are not the Emperor’s to bestow.’
‘The Armenians held them from the Emperor. Now Tancred does. I will have my scribe write out the charter. And as a further pledge of my honour,’ he continued, before Bohemond could object, ‘I will leave my tent and my supplies and a company of my men here at Antioch, until I return.’
‘We will value them, Lord.’ The calm had returned to Bohemond’s voice, though the skin on his cheeks throbbed red. ‘But you cannot forget your own safety. There are many brigands and Turks between here and Philomelium, and the road is dangerous. You will need an escort.’
‘I will sail from Saint Simeon, and take the Patzinaks. Sigurd will remain here as captain, in command of the Varangians. Demetrios, you will see to the well-being of our camp followers and servants.’
‘What will become of the Norman conspirator?’ I asked.
‘He will be judged and punished according to our laws,’ said Bohemond harshly.
‘Good.’ Tatikios clapped his hands together, and rose. There seemed a confidence in his bearing that I had not seen in weeks. ‘I must make my preparations and go. My cause is urgent, and the road long.’ He looked to Bohemond. ‘I shall report to the Emperor all I have seen, and pray that he comes to rescue his noble allies.’
Bohemond bowed. ‘I shall pray that he comes in time.’
Tatikios left two hours later, a stiff figure on a grey palfrey. Two hundred Patzinaks followed on foot, their spears straight and rigid as the bars of a cage, while two dozen horses carried his baggage. We could ill afford to lose the animals, and a detachment of Varangians was sent to escort them back when the men had embarked from the harbour. With a leaden heart, I watched the column ride towards the pale sun as it dipped behind the mountains into the sea.
‘We won’t see him again,’ said Sigurd.
I laughed, though there was no joy in it. ‘Because he won’t return?’ I asked. ‘Or because we shall not be here when he does?’
A wispy feather of down, perhaps from some newly hatched bird, had drifted onto the blade of Sigurd’s axe. He brushed it away, and gave no answer.
? ?
I had not believed a word of the plot that Bohemond claimed to have discovered, and my distrust proved well founded. I never heard of any punishment meted out to the Norman who had confessed; to the contrary, the next time I saw him, some days later, he was mounted on a fine colt and lavishly dressed. No doubt he had been well rewarded for serving Bohemond’s purpose.
Two nights after Tatikios left I saw more of Bohemond’s schemes. It was after dark, on a grim evening, when a Frankish priest called at my tent. I recognised him from my interview with Bishop Adhemar, a dark-haired man named Stephen.
‘His Grace the Bishop of Le Puy sends greetings,’ he announced to me and Sigurd. ‘The princes hold a council tonight, and you would benefit by attending.’
‘Benefit whom?’ I asked, suspicious of any Frankish invitation.
‘Come and learn.’
As captain, it was Sigurd’s place to go, but he insisted that I accompany him. ‘Someone may need to restrain my temper. And I would not trust Bohemond further than I could swing my axe.’
The council was held in Adhemar’s tent, its furniture stripped away and four benches arranged in the customary square. As ever, Count Raymond had contrived to sit facing the door, where men looked first, with the bishop at his right. On the bench to their left, resplendent in a wine-red robe with a golden belt, was Bohemond. I avoided his gaze and tried to seat myself on the end of the bench opposite Adhemar. Almost immediately there was dissent.
‘My Lords, who are these peasants who disturb our council, foreigners who creep in to spy our secrets? Call your knights, Bishop, and send them away to the dungheap they crawled from.’
It was the Duke of Normandy who spoke, his fat cheeks puffed up like a cow’s. A well-fed belly pressed against the rich silk of his tunic, and he swayed slightly as he spoke. He had distinguished himself by spending almost the entire siege far from Antioch, safe on the coast, and I wondered what it signified that he had returned now. I knew that Sigurd hated him above all Normans, for he was the son of the bastard who had conquered Sigurd’s English homeland.
‘Peace, Duke Robert,’ said Adhemar. ‘These men speak for the Emperor himself, to whom you are all sworn. It is right that they should attend our council.’
‘A dog may bark when his master is away, but you do not invite him to your table. These are not princes – they are vagabonds. They are not our equals.’
Adhemar frowned. ‘All are equal in the eyes of the Lord – while they keep His peace. Soon we shall need
