Those who had fought to capture the city felt betrayed. They wished to loot Nicaea and make bloody sport of the citizens. Alexius tried to placate them, saying he would give the barons equivalent treasure if they would return to Constantinople and receive it. Further, he said, those who had not sworn fealty might do so at that time. Count Raymond would not. He who vowed to fight for no lord save Jesus Christ chose to stay at Nicaea until the army might continue along the road to Jerusalem.
As for Tancred, he went reluctantly, seduced by the promise of wealth. Princess Anna saw him there and later wrote that he was a spirited, haughty youth. When asked to swear loyalty he pretended indifference. But then, glancing toward a pavilion behind the emperor, he said he would take the oath if he were given such a tent filled with money. Whereupon a member of the court, George Palaeologus, roughly shoved him. Tancred drew his sword. Alexius himself intervened, rising from the throne. Lord Bohemond also intervened, rebuking his nephew, saying it was improper to threaten a relative of the emperor. They say Tancred felt ashamed because he had acted like a man who was drunk. Then he took the oath.
Comte Stephen de Blois spurned the emperor’s request. This noble lord had married Adela, daughter of William the Conqueror, and observed in a letter to her that every prince excepting himself and Raymond hurried off to congratulate the emperor on a splendid victory. Alexius receives them with much affection, he wrote, and bestows upon them opulent mantles, jewelry, horses, gold and silver coins. When he learned that I remained at Nicaea to defend the city he was most grateful, esteeming my service more to be treasured than a mountain of gold. From Nicaea we march to Jerusalem in five times seven days unless the city of Antioch withstands us.
As things turned out, Stephen wrote better than he knew.
Before all had been settled, governance of Nicaea and other matters, the Turks let go some captives, including a nun from the convent of Saint Mary at Trier who claimed she was with the hermit’s army. In bitter terms she lamented her fate, how she was abducted, forced into wicked union not only by a particular Turk but others all at once with scarcely a pause. Tearfully she appealed to the barons for help in purification. Bishop Adhémar counseled her and she gained absolution because the defilement was against her will. But who shall bridle a shiftless mind? Here came word from the Turk inflamed by this nun’s inestimable comeliness and he was full of coaxing, expert at cunning lewdness, imploring her to come back, offering gifts, vowing to become Christian himself if she would return. So what did she do but rush off to her filthy bridegroom and their abominable marriage. As to her reason, God knows, save that nothing but this Turk might slake her lust.
Toward the end of June, hearts set upon Antioch, the living host marched away from Nicaea. And since they had embarked on a holy expedition it seemed the Turks could not oppose them, for this would oppose the will of our Lord.
Anon they came to a marsh thick with reeds close by the city of Dorylaeum and there were Turks in ambush. Kilij Arslan had gathered three hundred thousand fighting men captained by such redoubtable emirs as Lachin, Caradig, Amirai, Boldagis, and Mirath. At sunrise here came these Turks down the hill chattering, whistling, launching clouds of javelins and poisoned arrows. As soon as the first rank of Turks emptied their quivers they made way for a second rank. Then another. Another. Various high lords had not arrived. Duke Godfrey, Count Raymond, and Hugh Vermandois were misdirected at a fork in the road.
Now those trapped beside the reeds huddled like sheep in a pen fearing death at each moment while Turks rode jubilantly among the tents, slashing, butchering, disdaining pleas for mercy. Christians fell to earth groaning, weeping, confessing their sins.
But all at once Hugh Vermandois charged into view. Next, Bishop Adhémar. So the beleaguered Franks thrust aside their doubts in order to challenge the enemy of God. Women followed, bringing water. All fought courageously, except one. Stephen de Blois could not be found.
Kilij Arslan had thought the Christian army surrounded and he rejoiced. Then came Hugh Vermandois, Godfrey, Raymond, with Bishop Adhémar leading an army of southern Franks. So the Red Lion fled away to the east without stopping to gather his tents. Muslim chronicles say he asked himself what let slip such fury. Their lances sparkle like stars, said he to himself. Their shields gleam. The clash of their swords echoes more terribly than thunder. They lift their lances when they advance, silent as though they knew not how to speak. But when they draw close they loosen the reins and charge fiercely, thirsting for blood. They grind their teeth and shout. The wind itself would retreat from their cries.
Until dusk God’s army pursued the green banners of these Turks, capturing many camels loaded with baggage, weapons, brocaded garments, silver and gold. They took innumerable oxen and sheep. Such was the victory at Dorylaeum at the end of June. Even so, four thousand Christians arose to glory in our Savior. Not least among them, Tancred’s noble brother William.
Two days later they resumed the march. Thirst and hunger beset them. Inhabitants of the country vanished or would not sell food. They found little to eat but thorns whose branches they chewed for liquid. Salt marshes in the desert provided no water to drink. Cisterns had been destroyed by the Turk. Men staggered, dropped, gasped for air with open mouths. Women cast forth babies too soon. William of Tyre asserts that during the first days of July five hundred pilgrims gave up the ghost. Sumpter beasts which carried baggage, parched to the vitals, refused
