Baudolino (38 page)

Leaving the apothecary's tent, Kyot found an elegant scarf, and Boron, after considering all the merchandise at length, shook his head, murmuring that, for one in the service of an emperor who possessed the Grasal, all the treasures of the world were filth, and these things worst of all.

They came upon Boidi, the Alessandrian, who by now had become one of their group. He was enchanted by a ring, perhaps of gold (the vendor wept at selling it because it had belonged to his mother), which contained in its mount a wondrous cordial, a single sip of which could heal a wounded man and, in certain cases, resuscitate a dead one. He bought it, he said, because if they really had to risk their necks before the walls of Jerusalem, it was best to take some precaution.

Zosimos was ecstatically contemplating a seal bearing the initial Z, his own, which was being sold with a little stick of sealing wax. The Z was so worn that perhaps it would leave no mark on the wax, but this fact testified to the distinct antiquity of the object. Naturally, as a prisoner, he had no money, but Solomon, touched, bought the seal for him.

At a certain point, driven by the crowd, they realized they had lost the Poet, but they found him again as he was pulling down the price of a sword that, according to the merchant, dated back to the conquest of Jerusalem. But when he reached for his purse, he realized that Zosimos was right: with his pale-blue pensive Alaman eyes, he attracted thieves like flies. Baudolino was moved and made him a present of the sword.

The next day a richly dressed man turned up at the encampment, with exaggerated obsequious manners, accompanied by two servants. He asked to see Zosimos. The monk conferred with him for a while, then came to tell Baudolino that this was Makhitar Ardzrouni, a noble Armenian dignitary, who had been charged with a secret mission by Prince Leo.

"Ardzrouni?" Niketas said. "I know about him. He came several times to Constantinople, in the days of Andronicus and afterwards. I understand why he sought out Zosimos, because he had the reputation of an amateur of magical sciences. One of my friends in Selymbria—but God knows if we will find him still there—was also a guest in his castle at Dadjig...."

"So were we, as I will tell you, and for our misfortune. The fact that he was Zosimos's friend was for me a very unfortunate sign, but I informed Frederick, who wanted to see him. This Ardzrouni was very reticent about his credentials. He had been sent, or not sent, by Leo, or he had been sent but he wasn't to say so. He was there to guide the imperial army through the territory of the Turks into Armenia. Ardzrouni expressed himself with the emperor in acceptable Latin, but when he wanted to remain vague he pretended he was unable to find the right word. Frederick said he was treacherous, like all Armenians, but a man familiar with the locality was convenient and he decided to add him to the army, asking me merely to keep an eye on him. I must say that during the journey, he behaved impeccably, always giving information that proved correct."

In March 1190 the army entered Asia and reached Laodicea, then headed for the territories of the Seljuk Turks. The old sultan of Iconium called himself an ally of Frederick, but his sons deposed him and attacked the Christian army. Or perhaps Kilidj had also changed his mind: we never really found out. Clashes, skirmishes, outright battles: Frederick advanced as victor, but his army had been decimated by the cold, by hunger, and by the attacks of the Turkomans, who arrived suddenly, struck the flanks of his army and fled, knowing well the passes and the hiding places.

Struggling through sun-baked desert territories, the soldiers had been forced to drink their own urine, or the blood of the horses. When they arrived at Iconium, the pilgrims' army was reduced to no more than a thousand horsemen.

And yet it was a fine siege, and young Frederick of Swabia, sickly though he was, fought well, taking the city himself.

"You speak coldly of young Frederick."

"He didn't love me. He mistrusted everyone; he was jealous of his younger brother, who was stealing the imperial crown from him, and surely he was jealous of me, who was not of his blood, jealous of his
father's affection for me. Perhaps as a child he had been troubled by the way I looked at his mother, or she looked at me. He was jealous of the authority I had gained by giving the Grasal to his father, and on this matter he always displayed some skepticism. When there was talk of an expedition to the Indias, I heard him murmur that it could be discussed at the proper time. He felt dethroned by all. That's why at Iconium he behaved with valor, even though he had a fever that day. Only when his father praised him for that fine achievement, and in front of all his barons, did I see a light of joy gleam in his eyes. The one time in his life, I believe. I went to pay him homage, and I was truly happy for him, but he thanked me absently."

"Like me, Baudolino. I too wrote and am writing the chronicles of my empire, emphasizing more the petty jealousies, the hatred, the envy that jeopardized both poweful families and great public undertakings. Even emperors are human beings, and history is also the story of their weaknesses. But do go on."

"Once Iconium was conquered, Frederick immediately sent ambassadors to Leo of Armenia, asking his help in proceeding across his territories. A pact existed; they had been the ones to promise this. And yet Leo hadn't yet sent anyone to receive us. Perhaps he was seized by the fear of meeting the same end as the sultan of Iconium. So we went ahead, not knowing if we would receive aid; and Ardzrouni guided us, saying that surely the ambassadors of his prince would arrive. One June day, turning southwards, having passed Laranda, we ventured into the Taurus Mountains, and finally we saw some cemeteries with crosses. We were in Cilicia, in Christian country. We were immediately received by the Armenian lord of Sibilia, and, farther on, near a cursed river whose name I have chosen to forget, we encountered a deputation that arrived in Leo's name. The moment it was sighted, Ardzrouni warned us that it was best for him to keep out of sight, and he vanished. We met two dignitaries, Constant and Baudouin de Camardeis, and I have never seen ambassadors of more uncertain intentions. One announced as imminent the
arrival in great pomp of Leo and Gregory the Catholicos; the other hemmed and hawed, pointing out that, while most eager to help the emperor, the Armenian prince couldn't show Saladin that he was opening the way to his enemies, and therefore he had to act with great prudence."

When the delegation had left, Ardzrouni reappeared and took Zosimos aside, who then went to Baudolino and, with him, to Frederick.

"Ardzrouni says that, far be it from him to have any wish to betray his lord, but he suspects that for Leo it would be a stroke of luck if you went no farther."

"In what sense?" Frederick asked. "Does he want to offer me wine and maidens so I'll forget I must go on to Jerusalem?"

"Wine perhaps. Poisoned wine. He says you should remember the letter of Queen Sybille," Zosimos said.

"How does he know about that letter?"

"Rumors spread. If Leo were to arrest your march, he would do something very pleasing to Saladin, and Saladin could help him achieve his dream of becoming sultan of Iconium, since Kilidj and his sons have been shamefully defeated."

"And why is Ardzrouni so concerned about my life—even to the point of betraying his master?"

"Only Our Lord gave his life for love of humanity. The seed of men, born in sin, is like the seed of animals: even the cow gives you milk only if you give her hay. What does this holy maxim teach us? That Ardzrouni would not object one day to taking the place of Leo. Ardzrouni is respected by many of the Armenians; Leo isn't. And so, winning the gratitude of the holy and Roman emperor, he could one day rely on the most powerful of friends. So for this reason he suggests proceeding to his castle at Dadjig, on the banks of this same river, to encamp your men in the vicinity. While waiting till we can understand what Leo is really guaranteeing, you could stay with him,
safe from any trap. And he urges you, above all, to be careful, especially about the food and the drink that any compatriot of his might offer you."

"By the devil!" Frederick shouted. "For a year I've been going from one nest of vipers to another! My fine German princes were lambs by comparison and—you know something?—even those treacherous Milanese who caused me so much suffering, at least they faced me in the open field, without trying to stab me in my sleep! What shall we do?"

His son Frederick suggested accepting the invitation. Better to watch out for a single, known enemy than many unknown ones. "He's right, Father," Baudolino said. "You stay in that castle, and my friends and I will represent a barrier around you, so that no one can approach you without passing over our bodies, day or night. We will taste first every substance presented to you. Don't say anything: I'm not a martyr. Everyone will know that we will eat and drink before you, and nobody will consider it wise to poison one of us because then your wrath would be unleashed on every inhabitant of that castle. Your men need rest, Cilicia is inhabited by Christian peoples, the sultan of Iconium no longer has troops to pass the mountains and attack you again, Saladin is still too far off, this region is made up of peaks and crevasses that are excellent natural defenses, it seems to be the ideal land for restoring everyone's strength."

After a day's march in the direction of Seleucia, they entered a gorge that left them barely enough space to follow the course of the river. All of a sudden the gorge opened out, allowing the river to run over a vast flat stretch, before accelerating its course and descending, engulfed by another gorge. Not very far from the shore, sprouting from the plain like a mushroom, rose a tower of irregular lines, standing out, pale blue, before the eyes of those coming from the east, while the sun was setting behind it, so that, at first sight, it was impossible to tell whether the tower was the work of man or of Nature. Only as you neared it could you understand that it was a sort of rocky
mass on which a castle was built, from which obviously one could dominate both the plain and the girdle of surrounding mountains.

"There," Ardzrouni said then. "My lord, you may encamp your army in the plain, and I advise you to deploy it over there, below the river, where there is space for the tents, and water for men and animals. My castle is not large, and I suggest you climb up to it only with a group of trusted men."

Frederick instructed his son to deal with the encampment, and to remain with the army. He decided to take with him only about ten men, along with Baudolino and his friends. His son tried to protest, saying he wanted to be near his father, and not a mile away. Once again he looked at Baudolino and his men with scant trust, but the emperor could not be swayed. "I will sleep in that castle," he said. "Tomorrow morning I will bathe in the river, and for that I have no need of you. I will swim to your camp to wish you good day." The son said that his will was law, but reluctantly.

Frederick separated himself from the main body of the army, with his ten armed men, Baudolino, the Poet, Boron, Abdul, Solomon, and Boidi, who was dragging Zosimos on his chain. All were curious to learn how they would climb up to that refuge, but, going around the massif, they discovered finally that to the west the drop was less severe, only a little, but enough to dig into it and carve a stepped path, on which no more than two flanked horses could pass at once. Anyone wishing to ascend with hostile intentions had to climb the broad steps slowly, so just a pair of lone archers, from the battlements of the castle, could wipe out the invaders, two by two.

At the end of the climb a portal opened into a courtyard. From the exterior of that gate the path continued, grazing the walls, and, even narrower, the brink of the cliff, to another, smaller gate, on the north side, then it ended, over the void.

They entered the courtyard, which gave access to the actual castle, its walls bristling with slits, but defended in their turn by the walls that separated the courtyard from the abyss. Frederick deployed his
guards on the outer ramparts, so they could survey the path from above. It did not seem that Ardzrouni had men of his own, beyond a few attendants who guarded the various doors and passages. "I don't need an army here," Ardzrouni said, smiling with pride. "I cannot be attacked. And besides, as you, Holy Emperor, will see, this is not a place of war, it is the refuge where I pursue my studies of air, fire, earth, and water. Come, I will show you where you can be lodged in a worthy fashion."

They climbed a great staircase, and at the second turn they entered a spacious
salle d'armes,
furnished with some benches and with panoplies on the walls. Ardzrouni opened a solid wood door with metal studs, and led Frederick into a sumptuously furnished chamber. There was a bed, with a canopy, with cups and candelabra of gold, surmounted by an ark of somber wood, perhaps a coffer or a tabernacle, and there was a broad fireplace ready to be lighted, with logs and pieces of a substance similar to coal, but covered by some oily matter, which probably was to feed the flame, all neatly laid out on a bed of fresh boughs, and covered with sprigs of aromatic berries.

"It's the best room at my disposal," Ardzrouni said, "and for me it is an honor to offer it to you. I do not advise you to open that window. It's an eastern exposure and tomorrow morning the sun might bother you. These colored panes—a wonder of Venetian art—will delicately filter the light."

"No one can enter through that window?" the Poet asked.

Ardzrouni laboriously opened the window, which was, in fact, shut with various bolts. "You see?" he said. "It's very high. And beyond the court are the ramparts, where the emperor's men are already on guard." In fact, the ramparts of the outer walls could be seen, the gallery on which, at intervals, the guards passed, and, just an arrow's shot from the window, two great circles or plates of shiny metal, deeply concave, set on a support between the battlements. Frederick asked what this was.

"They are mirrors of Archimedes," Ardzrouni said, "with which that sage of ancient times destroyed the Roman vessels that were besieging Syracuse. Each mirror captures and refracts the rays of light that fall parallel to its surface, and for that matter it reflects objects. But if the mirror is not flat and is curved in the proper way, as geometry, that supreme science, teaches us, the rays are not reflected parallel, but are all concentrated in a specific point in front of the mirror, according to its curve. Now, if you so orient the mirror that it captures the sun's rays at its moment of maximum radiance and bring them to strike, all together, a single distant point, such a concentration of solar rays on that precise point creates combustion, and you can set fire to a tree, the planking of a ship, a war machine, or the dry brush around your enemies. There are two mirrors because one is curved so that it strikes at a distance, the other sets fire at a closer range. So with these two very simple machines I can defend this castle of mine better than if I had a thousand bowmen."