allow himself to be dragged into a discussion of that, Bohemund answered the question with a pre-prepared and wholly specious answer.
‘To ease your concerns, given I had no idea that Vermandois and Bouillon had departed and crossed to Bithynia. I thought that the addition of my Apulians to their forces, sitting outside your walls, might cause you anxiety.’
Alexius allowed himself a ghost of a smile. ‘And if I requested that you do likewise?’
‘If that is your wish I am happy to meet it, as long as my men and my mounts are fed and watered.’
‘You have heard of the oath taken by Vermandois and Bouillon?’
‘I have.’
‘Then I am bound to enquire if you will make the same pledge.’
Bohemund feigned surprise, but he did it well. ‘Is not that the reason you have called me to your palace?’
Alexius was just as good at masking his true feelings, yet to a sharp eye a sudden need to blink was as good as a shout, even if, in revealing he had reacted when he should not have, the Emperor kept his eyes closed; that response had taken him off guard. He took his time to open them once more and fix his visitor with a firm look.
‘You have come prepared to swear?’
‘I will do so now, if you wish, Alexius, and to you alone.’
The reply was slow and soft. ‘No, Count Bohemund, let it be done with due ceremony and in the presence of witnesses. I would have you swear too on the holy relics kissed by the others so that you know you are risking eternal damnation if you betray the pledge you make.’
‘Anyone would suspect you did not trust me.’
Alexius was too shrewd to respond to that direct challenge, even if it came with an amused smile. He stood and indicated the door. ‘I will send my
Curopalates
to you on the morrow.’
Bohemund was escorted back to his encampment by a squadron of cavalry to find Tancred pacing back and forth, worried that his uncle had walked into some form of trap. If many of the tales of Byzantine intrigue were lurid they were not without some basis in fact; over the centuries people had been regularly killed in cold blood and the methods were the stuff of nightmares. Pick a pear from a tree and it might have been filled with a fatal toxin, accept an imperial gift of, say, a gold casket and there might be a famished and venomous snake waiting for you to lift the lid. It was rumoured that they had even perfected such a thing as a poisoned cloak, for that was a common imperial gift and a mark of respect.
‘I daresay Alexius would like to see me dead, but it’s not something he can at present afford.’
‘What’s he like?’
‘You can make your own mind up, Tancred; we go to the Blachernae tomorrow to take the same oath as Godfrey of Bouillon and Vermandois.’
Tancred could not hide his surprise. ‘You intend to swear?’
‘If we are to proceed I have little choice.’
‘The risk—’
‘What risk – swearing on the relics of saints?’ Bohemund snapped.
‘That would give me pause; it would give most men pause.’
‘If you go to Santa Sophia the divines there will show you many things, including two heads of John the Baptist. I have heard it said that men with such a feature exist, but they do not do so as biblical prophets. One of those heads must be a fake and that throws doubt on any others, so how do I know what I am being asked to swear on is a true relic or some fanciful object dug up by some dreamer or fraud?’
‘An oath is an oath, made to God even if the relics are dubious.’
‘Which I will keep as long as Alexius keeps his, and think on this, nephew! Alexius Comnenus was once given the military title of
nobilissimus
, the first to be so termed with the highest rank the Emperor could bestow, and that was for his service to his predecessor, to whom I think you will agree, he must have made an oath of loyalty both before he was granted the title and at the ceremony of investiture?’
‘Of course,’ Tancred replied, for he knew what was
‘To ease your concerns, given I had no idea that Vermandois and Bouillon had departed and crossed to Bithynia. I thought that the addition of my Apulians to their forces, sitting outside your walls, might cause you anxiety.’
Alexius allowed himself a ghost of a smile. ‘And if I requested that you do likewise?’
‘If that is your wish I am happy to meet it, as long as my men and my mounts are fed and watered.’
‘You have heard of the oath taken by Vermandois and Bouillon?’
‘I have.’
‘Then I am bound to enquire if you will make the same pledge.’
Bohemund feigned surprise, but he did it well. ‘Is not that the reason you have called me to your palace?’
Alexius was just as good at masking his true feelings, yet to a sharp eye a sudden need to blink was as good as a shout, even if, in revealing he had reacted when he should not have, the Emperor kept his eyes closed; that response had taken him off guard. He took his time to open them once more and fix his visitor with a firm look.
‘You have come prepared to swear?’
‘I will do so now, if you wish, Alexius, and to you alone.’
The reply was slow and soft. ‘No, Count Bohemund, let it be done with due ceremony and in the presence of witnesses. I would have you swear too on the holy relics kissed by the others so that you know you are risking eternal damnation if you betray the pledge you make.’
‘Anyone would suspect you did not trust me.’
Alexius was too shrewd to respond to that direct challenge, even if it came with an amused smile. He stood and indicated the door. ‘I will send my
Curopalates
to you on the morrow.’
Bohemund was escorted back to his encampment by a squadron of cavalry to find Tancred pacing back and forth, worried that his uncle had walked into some form of trap. If many of the tales of Byzantine intrigue were lurid they were not without some basis in fact; over the centuries people had been regularly killed in cold blood and the methods were the stuff of nightmares. Pick a pear from a tree and it might have been filled with a fatal toxin, accept an imperial gift of, say, a gold casket and there might be a famished and venomous snake waiting for you to lift the lid. It was rumoured that they had even perfected such a thing as a poisoned cloak, for that was a common imperial gift and a mark of respect.
‘I daresay Alexius would like to see me dead, but it’s not something he can at present afford.’
‘What’s he like?’
‘You can make your own mind up, Tancred; we go to the Blachernae tomorrow to take the same oath as Godfrey of Bouillon and Vermandois.’
Tancred could not hide his surprise. ‘You intend to swear?’
‘If we are to proceed I have little choice.’
‘The risk—’
‘What risk – swearing on the relics of saints?’ Bohemund snapped.
‘That would give me pause; it would give most men pause.’
‘If you go to Santa Sophia the divines there will show you many things, including two heads of John the Baptist. I have heard it said that men with such a feature exist, but they do not do so as biblical prophets. One of those heads must be a fake and that throws doubt on any others, so how do I know what I am being asked to swear on is a true relic or some fanciful object dug up by some dreamer or fraud?’
‘An oath is an oath, made to God even if the relics are dubious.’
‘Which I will keep as long as Alexius keeps his, and think on this, nephew! Alexius Comnenus was once given the military title of
nobilissimus
, the first to be so termed with the highest rank the Emperor could bestow, and that was for his service to his predecessor, to whom I think you will agree, he must have made an oath of loyalty both before he was granted the title and at the ceremony of investiture?’
‘Of course,’ Tancred replied, for he knew what was
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