Warriors

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Emperor Henry III, looking out over the assembled gathering, was not happy and he had good reason: there was not one person present who did not give him concern, and one still absent that made him furious. Added to that, every voice he heard, be it in private or public, was committed to condemnation of the actions of another.

A nobleman from Amalfi, dispossessed by Guaimar and lucky to still be breathing following the sack of that place, denied the piracy of which that city state was accused, in turn condemning the other trading ports for secretly undermining imperial edicts regarding fair trade and tariffs. But these people never did anything other than curse each other, making it difficult for a distant and German-based overlord to sort claim from counterclaim.

But there was no doubt they all shared one thought: Salerno was the real problem. They were sure the ruler of that city, with Amalfi already in his grasp, had continuing plans of conquest, which meant no one was safe. Henry had the power to reverse that, to force Guaimar to give up Amalfi, but would that be wise? Guaimar was undoubtedly ambitious and there was no knowing where that would lead. He needed to be checked but it would not be good policy to humiliate him.

The idea of an independent king ruling in South Italy, wherever he sprang from, was not one to appeal and the outlines of such a polity seemed to be taking shape. Not content with Amalfi, Guaimar had self-appointed himself to Byzantine Apulia and then gone on to grant land and titles to the Normans who were once in his pay: the emperor had no idea of how much those mercenaries led by William de Hauteville owed to him in return, and that he needed to establish.

Rainulf he was sure of: Guaimar’s vassal in Campania was seemingly under his thumb, but he was out of control on the edge of those domains, nothing more than the leader of a marauding gang of robbers sucking the wealth out of church lands, and despite his recent troubles he still mustered an impressive force; combine those two bands of mercenary warriors under Guaimar’s leadership and they would be a power that even the whole might of the empire would struggle to contain.

Prince Landulf of Benevento would be at risk as well as the rival ports, but when it came to what they had done in Apulia they did not garner much imperial sympathy. Landulf had been just as ambitious and duplicitous as Guaimar in support of revolt, with the appointment of his brother and the subsequent encouragement of Argyrus, and where had that led? Worse, despite a clear summons, he had yet to appear, and that bordered on an affront to his imperial majesty, one which would definitely have to be dealt with.

Henry knew two things: that Lombard rivalry, while troublesome, was less of a concern than that one of these magnates should rule over the rest, because they were not the kind to ever be content with what they held. Given power over the whole south they would next be at the Papal States and the imperial fiefs to the north. He also knew that whatever dispensations he made in this part of Italy must somehow hold once he had departed, which had to be soon. He could not afford to be away from Bamberg too long.

What he required was not continued turmoil but a balance of power that left everyone dependent upon imperial endorsement and one which would not drag him into conflict with his fellow emperor in Byzantium. The idea of forcing the inhabitants of Apulia to resubmit to Constantinople was an attractive one in terms of keeping the peace, but it was also impractical: his writ ran even less in that part of Italy.

Given the day had been taken up with ceremony, his decisions had been postponed till the morrow, which allowed for much intrigue as those who sought imperial favour attempted to bribe Henry’s officials. It also gave time for those who felt themselves in some way threatened to seek allies with which to fend off the emperor’s wrath. Guaimar definitely felt at risk: the good relationship he had enjoyed with the previous emperor had not been carried over; if anything, he suspected he was perceived as a disturber of the peace, so he sought the support of William de Hauteville, needing to speak quietly in a doorless antechamber.

‘We must stand strong in the face of the emperor.’

‘He is not yet my emperor, Prince Guaimar.’

‘I am his vassal, you are mine.’

‘Only when Henry confirms us both in our Apulian titles. If you are not Duke…’

The rest of that sentence had no need to be completed, and judging by the look on Guaimar’s face he thought what had just been said to be a real possibility. William was more sanguine about his own future, because he held the ground: not only Melfi and the country around, but Troia too, now that his fellow Normans had joined him. In numbers, his lances had risen to some fifteen hundred: he was powerful enough to fear no one. Certainly he desired his title to be confirmed but he was not prepared to give up any part of his recent gains to get it.

‘How much do you trust Rainulf, William?’

‘I think that question is more important to you than to me.’

‘Pandulf free is unsettling, and what is he doing here at this imperial gathering? He has fooled Henry and he could have Rainulf’s ear, as he has had in the past, and whatever he says will not be to the benefit of either you or I.’

Guaimar had not been the first one to visit him: Pandulf had that honour, seeking in near whispers to enlist William’s support against both Rainulf and Salerno, with much gold on offer if he agreed. Never one to needlessly deny a possibility, William had merely demurred, but he did wonder if Pandulf knew him at all. Much as he had come to dislike Rainulf, he would do anything in his power to avoid fighting his own kind, for the very simple reason that it would be a bloodbath in which the only people to gain would be the Lombards.

Now Guaimar was at the same game! They were both as bad as the other, weaving what they saw as their spells as if those they were addressing lacked any insight. Guaimar did not seem to be able to discern that William was no longer acting as his proxy: he was acting for himself and his family. Pandulf, likewise, saw him still as a mercenary to be bought. So wrapped up in their own dreams were they, neither could see how the power to decide had passed from their hands, so he listened to Guaimar as he had listened to Pandulf, without commitment.

That they should call upon him was to be expected: both were jockeying for imperial favour and afraid of censure from the same source. Rainulf had the same dilemma, but his calling was a surprise, and it was immediately clear to William that his presence in his chamber was due to the young man he brought with him, who did indeed turn out to be his nephew. In fact, it was young Richard who did the talking.

‘My uncle fears that one of these Lombards will seek to use us against the other.’

William had to wonder who had visited them before they came to him, just as he had cause to conclude that if they had been called upon by Pandulf or Guaimar then this Richard had immediately seen the risks and so the need to consult with him. It must have taken a strong argument to get his uncle to come anywhere near a de Hauteville.

Looking straight at Rainulf, William replied. ‘I do not know if I have the words to reassure him.’

Richard responded, while Rainulf’s purple face closed up in disdain. ‘I think it best to ask you to consider what purpose would be served by such an action.’

‘I think you will find, should anyone suggest such a thing, I would come to the same conclusion as you.’

‘It has not, then, been proposed?’

William just smiled: this fellow seemed shrewd enough to guess the truth, so there was no need for it to be said out loud. ‘We have little to fear. Your uncle has his County of Aversa and numerous lances, I have my men and my aims in Apulia.’

‘The emperor could strip me of that,’ Rainulf growled.

‘To what purpose, Rainulf, and if he did, who is going to take it from you?’

‘We both know,’ Richard replied, ‘that you are the only one who can certainly do so. Henry’s escort of Swabians is not enough and Guaimar would need allies to try.’

‘You have my word, I have no interest in Aversa.’

Rainulf made no effort to moderate his tone. ‘Can we believe you?’

‘We have no choice, Uncle,’ said Richard, looking William right in the eye.

The sudden appearance of a servant at the chamber entrance had William flicking his eyes to look past this youth. ‘His Imperial Highness requests that you attend upon him.’

‘Tell him I would be honoured to do so, just as soon as I have finished with my guests.’

‘There’s nothing more to say,’ barked Rainulf.

‘No,’ William replied, ‘there is not.’

‘You have not asked us for any pledge,’ said Richard.

‘It would be meaningless.’ Seeing the youngster’s face change, for the first time showing anger, William added, ‘But I see you as a person of sense and I hope you see me in the same light. As long as your uncle has you to advise him, as I once did, I doubt either of us has anything to fear.’

William left them standing there and went out of the arched doorway, immediately aware of his brother Robert leaning against the wall. ‘Have you been listening?’

‘I have,’ Robert replied. ‘You said I have much to learn, so I am doing that.’

‘And?’

‘What you said in there, as regards Aversa, might not hold for ever.’

‘Not much does hold for ever in this part of the world, Robert. If you wish to learn, learn that!’

‘I have no idea how to style you,’ said Henry, as William gave him half a bow. ‘I am not yet minded to greet you with the title Prince Guaimar granted to you.’

There were many courteous ways this emperor could have greeted him. In choosing those words he had deliberately sought to diminish William, and not being prepared to accept that, his response was brusque.

‘Then we share a dilemma, sire. Given what you have said, my suzerain is not you, it is the Duke of Normandy.’

That had the emperor looking at those around him, his own courtiers, all military men by their bearing, as well as the armed Swabian guards present, with raised eyebrows, as if he was shocked. ‘Conrad told me, when he returned to Germany many years ago, you de Hautevilles were a proud lot. Too proud perhaps.’

‘No more so, I suspect, than was he. I think it necessary in a warrior to be that.’

There was a definite prod in that: Conrad Augustus had proved himself in battle; this Henry was yet to do so and William knew by the emperor’s piqued expression he had struck home.

‘The question is, William de Hauteville, is what am I to do about you?’

‘Are you asking me to advise you?’

‘No!’

‘Then I am at a loss to know how to respond.’

Henry waved an arm towards his Swabian guards. ‘You get above yourself. I am the elected head of the Holy Roman Empire and I am unaccustomed to being so addressed by a mere mercenary.’

‘Something more than that now, I think.’

‘You are nothing, William de Hauteville, so much so that one word from me and these men who guard my honour will cut you down.’

That really got under William’s skin, and his reply was a hiss. ‘If they do you will never see Germany again.’

The emperor’s response was a bark. ‘You threaten me?’ When William gave him that knowing, superior smile it was just as effective on him. ‘Do not smirk in my presence. Do you not know to whom you speak?’

‘As of this moment, you are a young man who is not even beginning to achieve that which you set out to do, which is to get me to beg on my own behalf, and that of my family, that the titles we have been given should be confirmed. You wish me to plead. If any of these men who advise you have the courage to voice the truth, they will tell you I have no need to do so.’

‘And if I declare you an enemy?’

‘That is your right, yet I have taken nothing from you. Everything I have was once the property of Byzantium. I can, however, give you Apulia, by acknowledging you as my imperial suzerain.’

‘And Guaimar of Salerno, what of him?’

‘He is already your vassal, do with him what you will.’

‘Am I to take it you will not support him?’

‘You could have asked me that at the start of this conversation, so now I will answer the questions you should have posed, the ones which concern you, to which I would have responded with the truth.’

‘I think I must judge whether someone is being truthful.’

‘Then take it as you will. I owe Guaimar nothing, even if I am wed to his sister, and I will not pledge the men I lead to any enterprise you fear he may have in mind. I will not, either, combine with Rainulf Drengot and the lances he leads on any imperial fief.’

‘Easily said, and just as easily denied.’

‘Then listen to this. Neither will I stand aside, and nor will my family, if he is threatened. It is not for the love of Rainulf but because I will not see my fellow Normans put to the sword, and I have good grounds to feel they would treat me likewise. Understand that if you threaten one of us you threaten us all. Now that you know my mind, you may make up your own, and I will await whatever your pleasure is.’

William spun round and walked out, without bowing, leaving behind him a buzz of angry talk, not least from an emperor screaming that he would ‘not be treated in such a manner’.

‘That’s no way to address an emperor,’ said Drogo, quietly, once William had apprised his brothers of the results of his discussion. By the expressions on most faces, they agreed with him.

‘I think those he looks to for advice told him one thing, and I enlightened him.’

Mauger responded to that. ‘Which is all very well if he believed you.’

‘It makes no difference if he did or not,’ boomed Robert, in a carrying voice that had his siblings gesturing to him for hush, given that, gathered in the open-arched and stone-walled antechamber, they could be overheard if they spoke too loud. Robert’s response was a dismissive glare. ‘Unless he is prepared to fight for his pride, he must swallow what you give him.’

‘You know nothing,’ Drogo growled.

‘I know power when I see it,’ Robert replied, ‘just as I can smell spoken shit.’

‘Your nose is too close to your arse,’ barked Drogo, who had come to actively dislike this bumptious younger brother.

‘The emperor is far from weak,’ Geoffrey insisted.

Robert scoffed at the same time as he glared at Drogo. ‘He is also far from Apulia and unless he is prepared to come to that place with an army-’

William interrupted. ‘Which he could do if we gave him cause.’

‘Bearding him might do that.’

Looking at Humphrey, who had voiced that concern, William was wondering if his gloomy brother might have a point. He had not intended to rile Henry, but he had found his imperious manner hard to stomach. Yet he was the elected emperor, and entitled to respect. Was that a sign of hubris? Was he becoming too used to authority to be guarded in his tone?

That thought evaporated as he realised the company he was in: his brothers would defer to him when they thought he was right, they did not fear, and never had feared, to tell each other they were wrong. As for Henry, if he wanted respect he should show some instead of talking to him like a lackey.

‘Are we in any danger here?’ asked Robert. ‘The emperor’s Swabians hold the castle gates.’

That was possible, though unlikely. If Henry wanted to, he could stage a sudden arrest and throw them into the dungeons of this very place, which William knew, having visited them when it belonged to Pandulf, to be deep. It was the kind of ruse the Wolf would have employed and he did seem to have, as Guaimar had implied, the emperor’s ear.

‘I thought I was the suspicious one,’ Humphrey scoffed.

William was less certain and he knew the imperial escort outnumbered his own, large as it was: they also had more in numbers than Rainulf and he combined.

‘Best be safe. Robert, go to the apartments of Rainulf and speak to his nephew, not him. Raise the possibility and tell them to be on their guard, and that we will stand with them if they are threatened. Mauger, go to the quarters where our men are billeted and tell them to sleep in their mail, with their swords at the ready.’

It was a restless night for them all, and at first light it was necessary for William to test his reactions when he first heard Berengara retching; having been raised in a home where the birth of a child was an annual event, he needed no telling what the sound portended. He also knew, much as the sound pleased him, there were many ways of getting rid of an unwanted pregnancy and he recalled her threats; she would have to be closely guarded from now on.

Around him the castle of Capua was stirring, the smell of fresh baking from the kitchens permeating the chambers, and since nothing had happened in the hours of darkness he stripped off his mail and upper clothing, then dipped his hands in the chilly waters of the bowl of water to wash his face. The scuffling sound of feet had him turning quickly, but not speedily enough, and although he managed to deflect the assassin’s knife away from the centre of his body, it entered the flesh of his side.

He knew he had shouted, knew he had hold of the hooded man trying to kill him, but he could see the eyes and make out the intention: that knife had been pulled out to inflict another stab and he, being stripped, was near defenceless. The sword flying through the air was no more than a flash of steel, but the bellow that accompanied it was more than that. The blade hit the man before him, and even if it did not penetrate, it was enough to distract him from the blow he was trying to deliver, enough to allow William to gain some space between them.

It was Robert who followed that sword blade, grabbing William’s assailant in his great big hands and twisting and lifting him at the same time, so the sound of the snapping neck was as clearly audible as the snapping of a dry twig. William by that time had doubled over his wound, his hand over it, but his eyes seeing the blood seeping through his fingers. Suddenly the chamber was full of people, all his brothers and more beside, and as he lifted his head to one side he saw his wife standing holding the curtain that concealed her bed, and the concerned look on her face mystified him, not least because of all the people in this castle who might want to kill him, she could be one.

‘It would take too long to list those who might be responsible,’ said Drogo, and he was right: the Emperor Henry, Pandulf, Guaimar, Rainulf were all suspect, and that left out the notion that Argyrus had sent someone from far off Bari to carry out the deed. William did not mention Berengara, and in truth the look of concern she had carried when she saw him wounded might actually have been for the father of her coming child.

‘Is the council going ahead?’ William asked, feeling the bandages in which his belly was now swathed.

‘It is.’

‘Then get me on my feet.’

‘Not wise, Gill, that was a bad wound and the monk who treated you said you should remain still to let it heal.’

‘If there is someone at that gathering who is responsible for this I want them to see my face. Now do as I ask.’

It was a painful struggle for William, and there was no way he could dress himself, a task carried out by Drogo and Listo, with his other brothers, Robert excluded, looking concerned. Finally he stood — or was it swayed? — in his family surcoat, striped in blue and white, as his sword was strapped to his waist. An imperial order dictated he should not wear arms, but that was one William de Hauteville was determined to ignore.

On the walk to the great hall of the castle he had to stop several times, to lean against a wall and gather himself, but when he entered that huge chamber he stood alone and upright, his family several steps behind him, before a crowd of nobles and churchmen who parted so that his view, from doorway to dais, was uninterrupted. Many present were surprised, but that did not indicate guilt. It took much determination to walk as if unwounded up that aisle, but walk he did, until he stood before the Emperor Henry, fixing him with a look that was as questioning as it was discourteous.

‘We are glad to see you are well, William. We have cut off the head of your assailant, even though he was dead, and it now sits on a spike by the outer walls.’

His brothers were beside him now, Drogo and Geoffrey so close that he could, if he needed to, lean on them, and when he spoke he managed a voice of full strength. ‘Let it be known, sire, that to kill me will avail whoever tried to carry it through of nothing. You see beside and behind me my brothers. If you wish to contain the name of de Hauteville you must kill us all.’

‘You have my permission, William, to be seated in my presence.’

‘I thank you, sire, but that is unnecessary.’

‘Gill,’ Drogo hissed.

‘Then let it be known,’ Henry said, standing, and his voice ringing out, ‘that in my office as elected emperor, and with the blessing of the most holy Pope Clement, I hereby repudiate the title taken unto himself by Guaimar, Prince of Salerno, in the territories recently wrested from Byzantium. He was granted the title of Prince of Capua by my predecessor and that grant I now repudiate in its entirety, and with the title thus being vacant I appoint to it, with all its lands and revenues, the previous holder, my most loyal servant, Prince Pandulf.’

‘Sire,’ Guaimar protested, but he got no further.

‘You have Salerno and Amalfi, Guaimar, be content.’

Naples and Gaeta were grinning: anyone standing close to Pandulf would have heard the Wolf say, under his breath, ‘You have them for now, Guaimar.’

‘And for you, William de Hauteville, I invest you with the title of Count and Master of all the Normans of Apulia and Calabria, and charge you to hold those provinces in my name.’

The escort William had brought to Capua were all in the keep when he emerged, looking pale but still on his own two feet. They cheered him to the echo, and two of his brothers took his arms to aid him to stay upright.

‘I can look Normandy in the eye now,’ William said. ‘How I wish our father, Tancred, was here to see this.’

‘He will hear of it, Gill,’ Drogo replied. ‘Now you must rest.’

‘I must have a seal made. I need to send greeting to my cousin and namesake, Duke William, and I also need to request that he give my father permission to build that stone donjon he has dreamt of all these years. He cannot deny it now I have my title!’