candelabra placed discreetly behind him certainly drew men’s attention first.
‘We meet in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.’ The man beside Raymond spoke the blessing in Latin, to a muttered chorus of ‘Amen’. Instead of a cloak he wore a crimson cope over his ringed armour, with scenes from the scriptures embroidered into it in gold. The domed cap on his head had the shape of a helmet, but was cut from the same rich cloth as the cope. Beneath it his expression was stern, though I had sometimes seen it soften to a half-smile when, as was common, one of the princes embarked on a long or fatuous digression. His name was Adhemar, the bishop of Le Puy, and though he commanded no army save his own household, his voice was always the first and also often the last at these councils, for he was the legate of the Patriarch of Rome, the Pope.
‘What progress at the western walls, Count Raymond?’ he asked. He always allowed the Provençal leader to speak second, perhaps in deference to his vanity, perhaps because they were of the same country.
‘The tower at the mosque, by the bridge, will be completed in days. After that, we need fear no more attacks on the supply road. Nor will the Turks then manage to bring provisions into the city, or pasture their flocks.’
‘Towers alone achieve nothing,’ said Bishop Adhemar. ‘Who will take on the task of garrisoning it?’
He had spoken to the room at large, yet the question hung unanswered. All around the square men looked to the floor or fidgeted with their belts – none would meet Adhemar’s eye. With good reason, I thought, for after five months of siege who would willingly incur the extra cost in gold and men of manning a fort on our front line?
At length, Count Raymond lifted his chin defiantly. ‘The tower was my idea, and in its wisdom the council agreed it. If none other has the stomach for it, I claim the honour of captaining its defence.’
His words stirred new enthusiasm into the gathering. ‘If you had thought of it sooner, we would not have lost so many lives earlier this week,’ Duke Godfrey complained. ‘We might even now be in the city.’
‘And if we had waited for you to conceive it, our grandsons would still be besieging Antioch fifty years hence.’ Count Hugh jerked his head emphatically, so that his fine hair tumbled over his face. He pushed it back, but it would not stay. ‘I propose we should reimburse Count Raymond from the common fund, as a signal of our gratitude.’
Raymond raised his hands in deference, while his single eye fixed Duke Godfrey with malice. ‘Keep the common fund for the poor and feeble. I have money enough for the task.’
‘So be it,’ said Adhemar. He turned to Bohemond. ‘What are the reports from your camp?’
Though the only man at the council with neither lands nor titles, it was Bohemond alone among them who looked a prince. He stood, letting the blood-red folds of his cloak hang free so that the swirling weave of the silk shimmered in the candlelight. It must have been a gift from the Emperor, for there was not a craftsman in the west who could have wrought it with such subtlety.
‘The report from my camp, your Grace, is that only the Turks could rejoice at our progress. What of it that my men routed a thousand of them three days ago on the road to Saint Simeon? They have more. Their walls stand as tall today as yesterday. And we bicker in our tents because we cannot scruple to let one man shine above the rest.’
He had advanced into the centre of the square now, pacing and turning as he addressed his audience. Of those faces I could see, none looked sympathetic. ‘You know, Bishop Adhemar, that there can only be one head of the church. Why do we suffer many heads in our army, pulling in so many different directions that we tear apart?’
‘We acknowledge one captain over our armies, and His name is Jesus Christ,’ said Adhemar. ‘Before the Lord, every one of us is equal. It would be the sin of Lucifer to overreach God’s order.’
‘We acknowledge one Lord over our church. But we also acknowledge His ordination of a single man to govern that church, your master the Pope, the better to accomplish His divine purpose.’