Warriors (17 page)

With few experienced men to do his bidding – he had brought no more than five hundred soldiers with him – George Maniakes resorted to terror in order to make his enemies fearful. Wisely, he began his campaign well to the south, as far as possible from Melfi and an army that could beat him if engaged. Instead of landing at Trani, staunchly loyal to Byzantium and reasonably close to his enemies, he made his landfall in the far south, below Brindisi.

Raising what conscripts he could, he bypassed that great port city, it being too strong, and force-marched his men on to Ostuni. Normally this hill town, perched
on a rocky outcrop half a league from the Adriatic, was a place no serious general would have troubled to capture, and it was one that had shown no stomach for either intrigue or revolt in previous decades. That, against the likes of George Maniakes, was not enough to save it.

Poorly defended, with no garrison, a broken-down watchtower and cathedral atop the mount on which it stood, and with walls much-pilfered for house building, fortifications that had not been maintained for decades, it had no chance of resistance and the citizenry knew it. Envoys bearing gifts of food and wine were sent out as soon as the Byzantine force was spotted moving up the coast accompanied by a small fleet of supply ships.

Pitching his tents in the narrow strip of land between the outcrop and the sea, George Maniakes received those envoys and took their gifts just before he personally, with a sword big enough to match his great stature, took their lives by lopping off their heads in a quartet of single blows. Then he sent his men into Ostuni with instructions to show no quarter, and for once, that was an order strictly applied. Every man found was killed, the women of all ages raped before joining them in death, so that the narrow steep-stepped streets of the town ran with great effusions of blood.

Those children who had not fallen to blows from
swords, knives and clubs were brought out onto the plain, the older ones set to digging a pit deep enough to hold their bodies, one they were thrown into as soon as it was completed, joined by the younger children down to toddlers, the earth they had toiled to remove thrown over them to suffocate them while they still breathed, their tears and wailing wasted on the ears of the tyrannical general who had ordered this massacre.

Houses and the cathedral were torched after being despoiled, everything of value going to Maniakes’s men, for they were wise enough to torture the people who might have something to hide before despatching them to meet their Maker, and for those who resisted, the mutilation of one of their children or the brutal deflowering of a pubescent daughter was usually enough to loosen parental tongues. Livestock was driven out to be slaughtered on the beach, those not roasted and eaten were salted and barrelled to provide supplies.

As always – and it was a mystery to those who had pillaged Ostuni – there were some who survived their efforts at total eradication. Forced to flee the inferno of their burning dwellings, and with fires too good to waste, many were roasted alive over the flames so recently used to cook food. Maniakes ordered that half a dozen be spared, young men who could travel with speed. These he ordered out of his camp, with
food and water, to travel in all directions and tell the surrounding towns and villages what they could expect.

It is probable such places thought it a warning not to resist. It was not that: for most it was a notification of the coming storm. Town after town, and every hamlet in between, saw the same treatment, and as George Maniakes marched up the coast, sending raiding parties inland where there was something to pillage, assaulting towns with his whole force if they warranted the effort, he turned the province into a desert in his wake.

The roads of Apulia were lined with rotting bodies swinging from the trees, with the cadavers of women and children putrefying by the roadside. The message was not for those little towns and rural settlements, it was for the port cities that had the ability to defend themselves: do so, and this is what you will face – utter and complete destruction and death.

It took time for the news to reach Melfi, and that came with the first of the port cities to submit. Monopoli, originally, in antiquity, a Greek settlement and still mainly that in sentiment and religion, was too close to the mayhem in its hinterland, too aware of the fate it faced, to hold out, lacking the military mind and judgement that would have advised it do so, for in truth, even if it was not large, it was rich enough to
keep its walls in good repair and George Maniakes did not yet have the forces or equipment to take a place of that size.

But the terror, allied to the Greek inheritance that went back to pre-Roman times, worked its devilish magic, and the bloodthirsty catapan was shrewd enough to offer to spare them chaos, thus underlining his message to those further up the coast. Yet every able-bodied man of the right age in Monopoli now found himself a soldier in the service of Byzantium, and the treasury of the port was plundered as a means to pay them.

For Arduin, when he heard what was happening, the problem was acute: previously, marching his men to fight had involved no extended distances. To stop this new threat required him to take his volunteer
milities
far from their homes, families, and more importantly for the majority, their fields. Yet to do nothing was to watch Apulia burn and Maniakes get stronger, for it was obvious that each port up the coast would follow Monopoli and submit as soon as they saw the Byzantine host outside their walls. Something was needed to inspire them to resist, and also encourage his army to fight far from its home. In the new titular leader, Arduin thought he had the answer.

‘William, this is Argyrus, son of the great Melus. Landulf of Benevento has finally relented and sent us the leader we require.’

William nodded and looked the young man up and down, noting that he seemed, just by the look in his eye and the way he held himself, to be a better prospect than that idiot, Atenulf. About the same age as the newly arrived Robert, he was not martial in his bearing, being slim of build, but William had to remind himself that it was an error to judge Lombards, Greeks or Italians by the same yardstick he applied to Normans.

‘I bid you welcome, Argyrus. I hope you are aware that it was you we looked to before the Prince of Benevento sent us his brother.’

‘Arduin spoke with me then, and I will not hide from you that I was made angry by the prince’s decision. Not that I could make that too obvious: I was, after all, a guest in Benevento.’

A strong voice and not lacking in wisdom, thought William, certainly clever enough to keep his head on his shoulders: for guest, read near-captive.

‘With Argyrus as our leader, William,’ Arduin crowed, enthusiastically, ‘the men who have volunteered will march anywhere, to the ends of the Earth if need be.’

That piece of hyperbole was taken for what it was, a way to flatter this new talismanic arrival.

‘You have heard of the depredations of George Maniakes?’ Argyrus nodded. ‘Arduin and I have thought on how to counter him; I wonder if you have any notions of your own.’

Unlike Atenulf, who would have been floored if required to answer to his own name, the young man replied with speed and precision, yet so quickly that William guessed he must have been primed by Arduin regarding what to say. That mattered not, it was only important that he grasped the essentials and agreed with them.

‘Maniakes is marching up the coast, gathering strength with every place he subdues but does not destroy, yet we have to hope that Brindisi and Bari will hold out as they have done so often in the past. Not even George Maniakes is going to devastate the two greatest sources of revenue in Apulia, even if he had the force to breach their walls, which I doubt he could yet muster. Our aim is a revolt which will rid South Italy of Byzantium for ever, is it not?’

William nodded: he and Arduin had discussed this often, and though they had their differences, they agreed on that.

‘Maniakes, while he has burnt and despoiled everything around it, has spared Monopoli, therefore it is probable to assume he will do the same to Molfetta and Giovinazzo and, if he could come far enough without a battle, to Barletta.’

Given another nod, Argyrus continued confidently. ‘But before he can get to Barletta there is Trani, and it is my view that in order to show that we, the Lombard revolt, can not only win battles but take cities, I
suggest we invest that port and do to those loyal to Byzantium what Maniakes has done to others.’

‘Brilliant,’ said Arduin, ‘do you not agree, William?’

Tempted to sarcasm, William expressed himself with more care. ‘A wise course of action, but it will not be easy. Trani has stout walls.’

Argyrus stretched a tad, to show fortitude. ‘Then we must build siege engines capable of breaching them.’

‘At some point we will have to meet and defeat Maniakes.’

‘Of course.’

‘And given his penchant for destruction, the further south that happens the better.’

‘If we take Trani, it will so lift the spirits of our troops, who will have gold in their purse and the blood of Greeks on their weapons, taking them further will be easy.’

Robert de Hauteville, complaining loudly to his bored brothers about the inactivity of the Normans, did not see William enter the chamber behind him. If he had not been so obsessed with his argument, that they should be out harrying this Maniakes instead of leaving him to do his worst, he might have noticed the looks on the faces of those he was addressing: not any warning, but more interest than they had shown hitherto. Not even the one closest to him, Mauger, was going to miss the upshot and fun to be had from this.

‘He can’t supply all his needs from the sea. He must forage, and when he does we should be there to kill his parties. And he sends detachments to attack the smaller towns, not his whole force, people we could easily beat.’

‘You are welcome, brother, to ride out of here with your weapons and do what you wish.’

Robert spun round, then back again to scowl at his now grinning brothers. ‘It may not sound like sense to you, William, but it does to me, and not to take on an enemy when the chance presents itself smacks of caution.’

‘I cannot help but think our father should have administered to you a few more smacks as you grew up. It might have beaten some sense into your head.’

‘He would have needed a club,’ wheezed Humphrey, quite taken with his own joke.

‘We have mobility while Maniakes has none,’ Robert protested.

‘Leave us,’ William insisted, waving a peremptory arm at the others, a gesture that was not well taken: William was normally more careful of their pride. But they complied, knowing it was Robert at fault, given, in the short time he had been present, he had shown an ability to rile William that was unusual.

‘Sit down,’ William commanded. Set to protest, just for the sake of it, Robert finally shrugged and complied. ‘You are new here, so I will forgive your ignorance.’

‘I—’

Robert got no further, and William shouted at him to be silent.

‘Do not question my tactics any more than you would question an order in a battle. I presume Father has taught you to do that! There are things here you do not understand, and if you wish to, silence and listening would be a better method than prattling to your brothers and trying to undermine me.’

‘I do not seek to undermine you.’

‘Then what have I just heard you do?’

‘I am suggesting a course of action, a more honourable one—’

William cut across Robert again. ‘One you suppose me too stupid to see?’

Robert, for once, replied in a somewhat chastened tone. ‘I am sure you have considered it.’

‘And discounted it, for which I think you will grant I must have a reason.’

Not accustomed to conceding much to anyone, it was a reluctant reply that emerged. ‘Perhaps.’

‘We are about to march out of here…’

‘To where?’

William shouted again. ‘To where I command our conroys should go. You are a lance amongst others and sharing blood with me grants you no rights above another. We are going to fight, and when I have seen
what you can do, I will decide if you are an asset or a liability. If it is the second of those, you may as well load up your packhorse and go back to Normandy for I will have no use for you here. Until then, do as you are ordered.’

Robert was seething, but his voice was not raised as he answered, it was icy. ‘I will make you eat those words, man to man if need be.’

‘You are here to try to kill our enemies, not your relations.’

‘My brother and I wish to accompany you,’ said Tirena. ‘It is not nice to be here when everyone else is gone.’

‘To do what?’ asked William.

‘Listo will be your squire and look after your weapons and horses.’

‘And you?’

The eyes, which had been looking at him eagerly, dropped then. ‘There are things I can do.’

‘You are still a child, Tirena.’

That got him one of those glares he remembered so well. ‘I am not. Ask the other women and they will tell you.’

William was tempted to laugh, but he knew that would not be taken as he intended. This girl was too serious to see that it would be brought on as much by warmth as surprise at that which she was clearly suggesting. Slowly he nodded.

‘Very well, Tirena, but remember you must do as I command.’

Meant to deflect what she was obviously proposing, it had exactly the opposite effect, as she dashed forward and flung herself at him so furiously he had no choice but to catch her, and she showed remarkable tenacity in the way she hung onto his neck. Finally he got her free and gave her a look that matched any she had ever given him.

‘Behave, or stay in Melfi! Now, get your brother, and both of you see to my panniers.’ 

Trani had defensive walls that were indeed formidable, running right to and beyond the seashore, high and crenellated, with stout gates. The location of the town that supported the twin wooden jetties of the port, laying on a flat plain, meant that to invest the place was practicable as long as the besieger was prepared to be patient and had vessels able to enforce a blockade and stop supplies of food and reinforcements. Arduin had no ships, but he had absolute confidence that no more troops would arrive to aid the defence: the only ones close by were otherwise engaged.

Maniakes had finally decided he had enough strength for a siege, and had chosen to subdue Bari: thus he was too occupied, though there was no news that he had been reinforced. So if Constantinople
would not support him there, they would not do so to protect a less important Byzantine outpost. The defence of Trani would be left to the citizenry, and they could be overcome if the right tactics were employed, which meant avoiding the gates, with their overhanging brattices designed to drop boiling oil and heavy rocks upon anyone attacking. Instead he would seek to mount an assault by siege tower at a point along the curtain wall.

The land to the north was low-lying marsh, too full of bog to support anything weighty. It was yielding even now, in early spring, useless for large numbers of soldiers on foot and thus even more so for cavalry. While those marshes acted as a protection for that portion of the defence, they also presented a barrier to the occupiers. They would struggle to sally out to a poorly manned frontage with any hope of achieving sudden surprise – soft marsh would slow them as well, giving a chance to react: by the time they reached firm ground, the mounted Normans, able to swiftly deploy and now close to a thousand in number, would be waiting for them.

And it was soon obvious that those marshlands were best avoided: troops bivouacked near there showed early signs of sickness, and that was not something the besiegers could afford. Every military leader knew that more sieges were beaten off by illness than stout defence, so while that part of the lines had to be
covered, the troops, Lombard infantry, were rotated away from the place, to less miasmic climes, on a regular basis.

Inland the terrain was earth-covered rock and, being near level, perfect ground on which to construct the siege tower that would, if properly employed, soar above the walls of the port city. Those who would man the parapet might have a leavening of professional soldiers – an experienced captain from Byzantium was in the town, as well as a personal envoy from the new Emperor Constantine, there to stiffen the attitude of the defence – but even with such aid, the besiegers could count on a lack of discipline as well as a want of cohesion. Their only hope of relief lay in the abandonment of the siege of Bari: if George Maniakes came barrelling north with all the men he could command, he would have to be met in the field.

Their new titular leader, Argyrus, being untrained in military matters, was wise enough not to interfere in any discussion of tactics, though he always attended and listened carefully to what was being discussed. He took to riding around the lines with an escort of men he had gathered, so he could be seen, using his prestige to encourage and cajole. He also rode out to bolster the efforts of the timber-cutting parties; the kind of wood necessary to build a massive siege tower was not readily available close to Trani and had to be cut and dragged from the forested hills inland, an
arduous task given there was no flowing watercourse on which to float the logs; movement was accomplished by a combination of men and mules.

Cavalry they might be, but there was no ease for the Normans in this: when not on their mounts foraging for supplies, they were stripped to the waist, helping to drag timber, or sawing and trimming tree trunks with the Lombard
milities
, using their strength where that was required – once the bigger logs were at the construction site – to haul on rough, hastily rigged cranes in order to get aloft the weighty main-frame timbers, these resting on the wheeled flatbed base and greased axles which would be used to move it forward to the walls once a path was cleared of rocks and any depression filled in.

As the carpenters sawed and trimmed, supplies of rope and canvas were brought down from Barletta, as well as grappling hooks fashioned by blacksmiths, the ropes entwined into ships’ cables of a thickness that would allow the tower to be pulled, the canvas used to produce long fire screens which, wetted prior to the assault, would hang around the tower so that flaming arrows could not set the whole thing alight. Once the frame was complete, the carpenters could cut wood and smooth it for the higher platforms and barricades, and trim rough dowels to hold them in place.

Flat timber was used to fashion ramps with arrow slots for the crossbowmen. These would be dropped
onto the top of the walls once the tower was hard against them, the first task being to grapple the whole structure so it could not be dislodged. The small number of fighters first to attack, the most formidable Normans, would then make sure it stayed there, holding off the inevitable counter-attacks, while others rushed up the interconnecting ladders in support, before moving over those same ramps in such numbers as to overwhelm the defenders.

‘We will be able to offer terms within the week,’ said Arduin, looking at the tower taking shape, an object that could easily be seen from the walls. ‘They must know that once this is employed, unless it is destroyed, they cannot hold out.’ When construction reached a point where the physical attributes of his men were no longer required,

When construction reached a point where the physical attributes of his men were no longer required, William instituted training in the kind of combat they would face. On foot, it was based on the basic unit of Norman warfare, the ten-man conroy – if their leader knew anything, it was that men did not fight for a cause or even for plunder: they fought for each other. The Norman system meant that not only did these warriors ride thigh to thigh in battle, they camped together round their own fire, ate together and slept in near-touching distance. A warrior would not sacrifice his life even for a glimpse of heavenly paradise, but he would give it freely if one of his confrères was seen to be in mortal danger.

Robert had been placed under the command of a captain called Hugo de Boeuf, an old fighter and experienced leader who had seen and survived much combat in both Campania and Sicily, as well as being a man William trusted to keep in check his brother’s bumptious nature. It was evident that Robert fitted in quickly because, when it came to mirth, he and his companions were the ones who seemed to laugh most, however hard and unpleasant was the task allotted to them.

Given that included tree-felling, woodcutting and hauling on crane ropes, Robert was to be seen, like his fellows, stripped to the waist. William had to admit himself impressed by the girth of his shoulders and the obvious strength of his muscular arms. He lifted and carried things other men dragged, singing ribald songs that his fellows took up, thus easing their labours.

Now he wanted Robert training to be first onto those walls, and that, too, would no doubt be impressive if you discounted his oft-mentioned assertion that he knew more about fighting than any of his brothers. William had the carpenters construct, out of sight of the walls, a mock-up of a tower platform, raised off the ground, complete with a ramp, as well as a wooden palisade set along the ground to represent the parapet, the idea to stage as near as possible what would actually happen once the tower was pressed and held against those walls, using as defenders better,
more experienced fighters than those the attackers should actually face.

While that was being constructed, normal training was resumed, and it was in such activity that William found himself up against Robert, employing the kind of wooden swords they used in the manège at Aversa in everyday training. Rarely ever beaten on horse or on foot – and only then by a piece of startling guile – William Iron Arm found he had a real battle on his hands, and he could see from the flinty look in the eyes on either side of Robert’s nose guard, as well as the weight of the thuds on his shield, the determination to beat him into submission.

When it came to using the mocked-up platform, one thing was quick to emerge: the very simple fact that if the calculation for the tower height were correct, they would, on the first point of engagement, be attacking from a higher level than the defence. William, leading those defenders, had the great pleasure, during the first attempt, of sweeping his mock sword under the point of Robert’s shield, so taking away his feet, causing him to collapse in a heap, to be finished off with a stout and painful stab at the chest, a fate suffered by most of the men led by Hugo de Boeuf.

The chastened attackers, who would probably have had their feet sliced through in a real battle, gathered to discuss how to overcome this, with Robert first to speak, posing a question to his conroy leader. ‘This
is false. As we approach, the crossbowmen will keep down the heads of the defence, will they not?’

A bent-over Hugo nodded, as he rubbed a sore shin where it had been clobbered hard by a defender, before agreeing. ‘And so those on the walls will be thinned and the ones who take station right before the ramp will be forced to duck, and thus be under it as it drops and out of the fight—’

‘So we fight to right and left,’ Robert continued, interrupting Hugo and ignoring the look that implied such behaviour was not right, that Hugo was the leader and these were conclusions he should state: with this de Hauteville he was wasting his time. ‘We should come down crouched behind our shields and use weight to just push back the defence. We can’t really do battle with them until we are on the parapet.’

‘The crossbows—’

Robert cut across him again. ‘Must keep the defenders away from the grappling hooks.’

‘Will you hold your tongue,’ Hugo yelled, in a voice loud enough to carry to William. ‘I command here.’

While Robert, who could see William glaring at him, mumbled something about only trying to help, it was obvious from his bodily reaction that he was less than pleased to be so publicly admonished. Yet no one could doubt he had the right of it, and that he had nailed both the problem and the solution in less time than Hugo, this proved by the partial success of
their next effort, one marred only by the time it took to execute the manoeuvre, which added to the time it would take to achieve their ultimate aim: to get to and open a gate.

It was no good to insist that in fellow Normans they were up against men of greater height, strength and fighting ability than those they would be likely to face, the whole idea being to identify problems in advance, and that led to another platform being built at the top of the tower and balustraded, accessed by yet another ladder, which the bowmen could use to overlook and aid the assault while still keeping the defenders away from the grappling hooks.

Time and again they went at it, William changing the men engaged on both sides so that everyone knew what to do and what they would face. He even had his heavily mailed and armed lances, himself included, running up and down the ladders to time how long it would be before they got to the top and became effective, an activity that, like most of what had gone before, required copious amounts of watered wine for dry throats, this while Arduin drilled his volunteer
milities
for the task they had to perform, to attack in force any gate the Normans managed to get open.

As darkness fell, William retired to his tent, there to be looked after by his two wards, who had insisted on taking on the duties. Listo saw to his equipment, cleaning it of the dust and sweat with which it had
become stained, while Tirena provided warmed water with which he could remove those same commodities from his body, and fresh, more comfortable clothing. She also supervised the preparation of his food, with an air, much resented, that indicated she did not trust those who did the cooking not to poison him.

Once fed, and attired in loose garments, William made his nightly tour of the outposts, checking that his men, on the part of the lines for which they were responsible, were in place and awake, stopping occasionally to talk, and also to look at the walls of Trani, lit by flaming torches that cast a low glow of light onto the ground below so that no sudden night-time assault would be possible.

Traversing the southern edge of the lines, alongside those marshes, he stopped to watch the dancing fireflies, wondering at how God had made such creatures, but that only led him on to wonder at how that same deity had made humanity in his own image, yet he had set men like him on a path that led to death, mostly for others. Crossing himself, just before he slapped a biting insect, he was also thinking Arduin was right: with the tower probably no more than a day away from completion it was time to offer the citizens terms.

The proposition would be simple: open your gates and give yourselves over to the Lombard army, in which case the city and the people within it will
be spared. Refuse and you will face fire and sword, for if you force us to bleed to capture, then you will lose more blood as a consequence, and if required to continue once the gates had been breached no citizen of the town, of any age or sex, would be guaranteed to survive.