was too weak to be heard: we could only watch as he toppled slowly from his saddle into the river. A second Turk rode past; his sword flashed, and blood welled into the water. As he wiped his blade, another horseman stabbed his spear into the river like a fisherman seeking octopus. When he lifted it out, a misshapen bulge was fixed to its tip. A red feather hung limp beneath it.
It took much to outrage the Franks, but they were silent with shock and shame now. I heard one voice mumbling that they had too few horses, another that there was little they could have done in any event, but none raised their voices to agree. The Turks crossed the river and rode impudently along the base of the walls, waving their bloody trophy at us. Few arrows flew to punish them. In the distance, Roger’s horse tipped back its neck and screamed, mourning its master or bewailing its captivity, while the Turk who had struck the final blow drew up his own mount near the bridge and shouted violence at us. His words were alien, but the meaning was unmissable.
The crowd on the walls was ebbing away. Sigurd and I followed.
‘Fool,’ he hissed when we were out of hearing. ‘Senseless, worthless, idiot fool. How many times have we seen ten Turks lure us to battle, only to become a hundred? Why do the Franks refuse to learn the ways of their enemy?’
I had no answer.
‘Today we saw thirty become three hundred. What will we do tomorrow, when the three hundred become three thousand, then thirty thousand? Will we ride out to be slaughtered every time Kerbogha sends a company of scouts to goad us?’
I looked up at the mountain. Smoke was rising from the furthest peak, above the citadel, but I did not see Bohemond’s banner flying there.
‘It is a bad beginning.’
? ?
That evening we made a fire on top of the tower that we had occupied. Beric the Varangian had ridden to Saint Simeon that day and had fetched back fish and grain at exorbitant cost. I did not think that that path would be open to us much longer. As long as we held the tower by the bridge we could defend the road, but all afternoon the Turkish vanguard had harried the defences with fire and arrows. The Franks had withstood them, but they would not hold out for long when Kerbogha came in his full might.
‘We would not be able to go to Saint Simeon often in any case,’ Beric said. He pulled the pan from the fire and scraped charred fish into our bowls. ‘I almost killed my horse getting back here before dark.’
‘That will be tomorrow’s supper, then,’ said Sigurd.
‘And what shall we do the day after?’ I pulled apart the sticky flesh in my fingers, wincing at the heat. ‘It took us four months to close off the city; I doubt Kerbogha will be so slow.’
Sigurd scowled as he tasted the bitter fish. ‘If I am alive the day after tomorrow, then I will consider what to eat.’
‘Do not say that.’ It was a warm night, and the fire made it warmer still, but Anna pulled her shawl closer about her. ‘We must survive. There is no gain in thinking of the alternative.’
I reached out an arm to comfort her, but she shrugged free of it. I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared intently at the flames.
‘I wonder how Bohemond finds the city that he schemed so hard to win,’ Sigurd mused. ‘It is not the best beginning for his new empire.’
‘A curse on him and his empire,’ I said. ‘I would like to see them both thrown down in ruin and picked over by crows, if I did not fear that we would fall beside him.’
Sigurd belched. ‘He may be our brightest hope.’
‘Then our plight is truly dire.’
‘Bohemond is a snake, Demetrios, like all Normans. When the bastard William landed in England, his army was too small, his supplies too few, and winter fast approaching. Within a month he was master of the kingdom. Bohemond is hatched from the same egg. He is a snake in a corner, and therefore most dangerous. The Turks will need a long spear to force him out.’
‘Or a single well-aimed arrow. How have we come to rely on allies like these?’
‘When the Emperor comes, we will not have to.’ Sigurd licked the last juice off the fish’s skeleton and cast it into the fire.
‘If we are still here when he comes.’
‘Halt!’
The challenge from the foot of the tower echoed up to us. I jumped to my feet and leaned out through the embrasure. In the orb of a burning torch below, I could see a tall man in a long white robe standing at the door. A Varangian faced him, axe in hand.
‘Who is it?’ I called down.
The visitor tipped back his head. The torchlight flickered on a dark face fringed by a black beard. ‘Demetrios? It is Mushid. The swordsmith.’
I relaxed my grip on the battlements. ‘Come up.’
We shuffled closer in our circle and made an opening for Mushid. As he seated himself by the parapet, I heard a muffled thud from under his robe. He would be wise to keep his wares close at hand in the city, I thought, though foolish to venture here at all. At least he had taken some precaution – I saw now why I had not recognised him immediately.
‘You’ve removed your turban.’
He nodded. ‘I do not want my head raised on a Franj’s spear.’
‘If you are so cautious for your neck, why enter Antioch?’ asked Sigurd. He had not met Mushid before, and watched him across the fire with narrow eyes.
‘For many reasons. I came to see if it was true, the rumour of the ruin which the Franj had worked.’
‘It is.’
‘So I saw. All through the city I have seen not one Turk today, save those being thrown into pits to be buried.’
‘The Franks boast that not a single Turk survived the sack. I am sorry.’
‘It was not your fault.’
It was, though. Again I remembered hammering back the bolt, the shouting of the Normans and the clatter of arrows about me. I remembered climbing that frail ladder, mounting the walls that had defied me for so long and being too terrified to care. I remembered—
‘Mushid.’
‘Yes?’
‘Two nights ago I was with Bohemond’s men on the walls, translating for the Turk who betrayed the city. He was agitated – he thought we had too few men and that Bohemond had not come. He said . . .’ I commanded my mind back. ‘He said
Mushid folded his hands together and stared into the fire. It hissed and crackled; the reflected flames danced on the battlements around us. No one spoke.
‘There are many men called Mushid in my country, as there are many called Demetrios in yours.’
‘There are not many who visited Bohemond alone in his tent three weeks ago.’
Again there was a long pause. At last: ‘It was my name you heard.’
‘You plotted with Bohemond to let him seize the city?’
‘I brought messages to him. Firouz, the captain on the tower, he is an armourer. I am a swordsmith. We have friends through the guilds. I travel freely wherever men need arms. Sometimes I carry more than swords.’
‘But why?’ demanded Anna. ‘Why betray the city – and your own people? Did you revel in the destruction you saw today?’
