lands of my own to redeem from my tight-fisted brother.'
'But the whole of Jerusalem is ripe for the taking. You must wish something for yourself,' Raymond suggested.
'What should I have wished for but the success of the pilgrimage? May God be praised, I have that already.'
Just then there came a knock at the door and the Abbot of Aguilers appeared. 'Forgive me, lord, but a messenger has arrived from Jaffa to say that Emperor Alexius' envoy is on his way.'
Raymond's expansive mood shrivelled slightly. 'Is he indeed?'
'Even now, lord,' the chaplain confirmed.
'When is he expected?'
'Before nightfall, I am told.'
The Count of Toulouse considered for a moment, then said, 'When he arrives, he is to be met at the gate and conducted here. I would have him stay with me while in Jerusalem. Is that understood?'
'Certainly,' replied the chaplain.
'Good. Then see that rooms are made ready for his use,' Raymond commanded. 'Alert me when he arrives, and I will welcome him myself.'
The chaplain nodded once and withdrew. As soon as the priest had gone, Lord Robert said, 'This is unexpected. Word of our victory cannot have reached Constantinople so swiftly. They must have been waiting nearby to see how the battle went.'
'Yes.' The count's frown deepened and he stared into his cup. 'I will not pretend delight at his coming. Indeed, I heartily wish the issue of succession had been settled before he arrived. That will not happen now, and we must deal with it as best we can.'
Robert drained his cup and stood. 'I am tired. If you have no further use for me, I will go to my tent and rest.'
'By all means, my friend,' Raymond said. 'But stay here and take your rest until the envoy arrives.'
'With all respect, Toulouse,' Lord Robert replied, 'I find that the stench is far less offensive outside the walls. I think I would rest better in my own tent.'
'As you will,' the count granted. 'But do return when the envoy arrives-we will sup together and discover the emperor's intentions for the Holy City.'
'You are most kind, Toulouse,' Robert accepted with a nod of his head. 'I would be honoured, of course.'
The flame-red sun dimmed to a foul yellow glare as it descended over the dry Palestinian hills. Dalassenus paused to drink from his waterskin and gazed upon the Holy City rising before him on its rock of a mountain. The thick black smoke rolling heavenward seemed like living columns holding up a hazy sky. He had been watching the smoke most of the day, and now he could smell it: heavy and oily, it stank of burned fat and meat and hair and bone. At first he feared the city itself was ablaze, but now that he was upon it, he could see that the fires came from outside the walls, and he knew the source.
'Drungarius?' asked his strategus.
'Yes, Theotokis?' he said, without taking his eyes from the endlessly rolling pillars of smoke.
'You groaned, my lord.'
'Did I?'
'I was wondering if you were feeling well.'
Dalassenus made no reply, but lifted the reins and urged his horse forward once more. A short while later, the imperial envoy and his company of advisors, officials, and Immortals reached the Jaffa road and proceeded directly to the city gate where they were met by Count Raymond of Toulouse's men, who led their party to the citadel where the count was waiting to receive them.
A short while later, the visitors passed through the gates and into the palace precinct where they were welcomed by Raymond himself, and several other nobles-including Duke Robert of Normandy, and Duke Godfrey of Bouillon, who had learned of the envoy's arrival and had come to see the first skirmish of the campaign ahead.
'Pax Vobiscum, drungarius,' said Raymond, stepping forward as the envoy dismounted. The count greeted his guest with open arms, and the two embraced stiffly. 'I trust your journey was uneventful. Now that the road from Jaffa to Jerusalem is in our hands, travellers will find their pains eased considerably.'
'Indeed,' agreed Dalassenus, 'the road was hot and dusty as ever, but it was blessedly free of Turks.'
'Alas, we can do nothing about the heat,' Raymond replied. 'No doubt the emperor has more influence in that domain.' He laughed loudly at his jest, and was joined in his mirth by his nobles, who chuckled politely.
'No doubt,' replied Dalassenus, somewhat awkwardly.
'Come now, you are tired and thirsty. We will allow you to refresh yourselves before supper.' Turning to his servants, Raymond commanded them to lead the envoy and his party to the rooms provided for them.
'It is a thoughtful gesture,' Dalassenus granted, 'but it is unnecessary. My men and I will find lodgings at the Monastery of Saint John. The good brothers provide simple, but adequate, fare and accommodation. We will be more than comfortable there.'
Raymond's face fell. 'That, I fear, will not be possible.'
'No?' Dalassenus regarded the count steadily. 'And why should that be so?'
'Regrettably, the monastery suffered somewhat in the battle.'
Dalassenus' face hardened. 'Are you saying it was destroyed?'
Raymond met the envoy's challenge with a show of pious remorse. 'The monastery escaped destruction,' he explained, 'not so the brothers themselves. They were unfortunately killed.'
This announcement caused a stir among the imperial visitors, who all began talking at once, demanding to know what had happened. Dalassenus silenced them with a word, and then turned once more to the count.
'Alas, yes – all of them,' admitted Raymond.
'In God's name, why?' demanded Dalassenus, his face darkening with rage. 'They were Christians, man! Priests! Monks!'
Raymond lowered his head and squared his shoulders to the envoy's wrath. He deeply rued the blind zeal of his fellow crusaders which had purged the Holy City of its entire population, but he did not see what could be done about it now. He had little choice but to meet the imperial ire head on. 'We are all aggrieved by the lamentable incident, to be sure.'
'Lamentable incident!' howled Theotokis, struggling forward. 'You slaughter fellow Christians out of hand, and call it a…
The western nobles, angered at such blatant disrespect, began shouting at the Byzantines. Some few started forth with curses and balled fists.
'Enough!' growled Dalassenus, quickly regaining his composure. To Raymond he said, 'We will make our camp outside the walls. In the name of the Emperor Alexius, I demand that you and the other lords and leaders of the pilgrimage convene in council tomorrow morning when we will discuss this, and other issues arising from the recapture of the city.'
Raymond, eyes hard under lowered brow, met the envoy's anger with flinty obstinance. 'As you will,' he muttered gruffly.
The imperial company withdrew to the Church of the Saint Mary on Mount Zion outside the southern wall, and made their camp within the grounds. Raymond and some of the lords returned to the citadel to drink and discuss the next day's council. Bewildered by the Byzantine response to their offered hospitality, they liberally doused their umbrage with the sweet dark wine of their conquered realm and, as the night wore on, vowed increasingly elaborate revenge on the slight.
For their part, the Greeks spent the night praying with the monks of Saint Mary's church for the souls of their murdered brothers, and for Jerusalem's Christians who had been slaughtered by their supposed liberators. After the prayer vigil, the envoy retired to the cell prepared for him by the monks. Dalassenus slept ill, his spirit troubled by the insidious ignorance and brutishness of the Latin pilgrims; he feared for the day ahead and the demands he must make on behalf of the emperor. The lords of the West had shown themselves truculent and untrustworthy