HOW THE FALSE ALEXIUS FLED
The fate of the host hung poised in the balance for several hours
that afternoon whilst the sun sank slowly in the west. When Hugh and
Matteo reached the camp the leaders were in desperate straits to know
what to do to avert being submerged by the apparently endless armies
of enemies who continued to pour out of the gates in the land walls.
Thousands of armoured horsemen, tens of thousands of steel-clad
footmen and scores of thousands of light-armed skirmishers, archers
and slingers were forming their array in the plains north of the Gate
of St. Romanus. It was the supreme effort of the Emperor--he whom
the Crusaders called the False Alexius to distinguish him from the
youth whose cause they had espoused. Stung by the menace of the
Venetians' success on the Golden Horn walls, he had determined to put
his fortune to the touch in one smashing blow at the army of the
Crusaders, without whose aid, he knew, the Venetians would be
helpless.
His strategy met with instant success. Dandolo was obliged to
relinquish his grip on the Golden Horn walls and throw every man who
could be spared from the crews of the fleet into the camp of the
Crusaders. The wise old Doge was quick to understand that this was
no time for half-measures. He was loath to abandon the fruits of the
day's fighting, but he knew they would be useless to him if his
allies were crushed. And what had been won that day, he reasoned,
might be won another day, providing the enemy was thwarted in this
new attack. So the Venetians moved to the aid of the Crusaders fast
on the heels of the messengers who announced their coming. Hugh and
Matteo had scarce delivered their assurances of succour when the
galleys were spied rowing up the Golden Horn.
Upon Dandolo's landing, he found the Crusaders already heartened by
the news of the successes he had won. They had reaped nothing but
losses by their efforts, and it encouraged them to know that the
Venetians had disproved the traditional impregnability of those
tremendous walls.
"It goeth sore against our pride, Lord Doge, that we have had to call
upon you so and compel you to abandon that which you have won right
hardily," Boniface greeted him. "But you may see before you the
powers that move against us."
Dandolo's eyes were not equal to spanning the distance which
separated the camp from the Greek army, but his uncanny knack of
envisaging a situation which he could not see permitted him to gauge
the relative facts. One division of the Crusaders, commanded by the
Lord Henry, brother of Count Baldwin of Flanders, were mounting guard
over the machines erected by the host in front of the Gate of
Blachernae. The remaining six battalions were formed in front of the
palisades of the camp--the archers and cross-bowmen in front; behind
them the mounted knights and sergeants; and in the rear of all the
sergeants and squires on foot. One division of 800 knights who had
lost their horses fought likewise afoot, being held in reserve as a
force to be used to close any gap or seize upon an unlooked-for
advantage.
The Doge conned over the arrangements in silence, and then asked for
the disposition of the Greeks.
"There are some forty divisions of them, Lord Doge," returned
Boniface. "And this is without counting a foison of their people who
have but now issued forth from the Gate of Blachernae and are
assailing the guards upon our machines."
"Do they prevail against the Lord Henry?"
"Not so, by God's grace. We hold our own. An we made a sharp
assault upon them I think we might do them great hurt."
"Nay, do not quit your ranks," answered Dandolo sharply. "If you
take my counsel you will not stir a step from this place where you
stand. For know, lords, if you do move hence it is likely that you
will be swallowed up in the Greeks as a sinking galley is swallowed
by the waves of the sea. Never before this did so few people venture
against so many, and I advise you with all the wit that I have to do
nothing to make it easier for the Greeks to encompass you round
about. Bide here, and with such help as my people can give, it may
be we may withstand the enemy until they weary of their efforts."
The barons of the host all approved of Dandolo's suggestion, more
especially because he assured them in no uncertain words that he was
determined to cast in his lot with them no matter what happened. The
host joined its ranks in close order and stood motionless whilst the
Greeks drew nearer. Old men-at-arms who had fought on many fields,
at Acre and Ascalon with Lion-Heart, watched that approaching horde
with wondering eyes. More than a hundred thousand strong, the Greeks
spread over hill and plain and menaced the host on every side, except
toward the Golden Horn. Thousands of other Greeks watched the
manoeuvres of their brethren from the walls, expecting to witness the
final humiliation of the invaders whom they looked upon as barbarians.
But there was something forbidding in the quiet, vigilant ranks of
the Crusaders which quenched the ardour of the attackers. The
battalions on the hill stood firm in their positions. When columns
of Greek horsemen galloped to the front and sought to draw them into
separate combats they lowered their lances to meet a charge--and
remained where they were. Perceiving that they could not lure the
Crusaders into breaking formation, the Greeks next sought to induce
them to advance as a body. The forty divisions of the enemy surged
forward, trumpets blowing, cymbals clashing and drums thudding.
Hundreds of banners waved. The Greek archers darkened the sky with
their arrow-flights. But still the Crusaders clung to the hill and
refused to be drawn down to the plain. Their archers and crossbowmen
answered the discharges of the Greeks, but that was as far as they
would go.
The confidence of the Greeks seemed to wane as twilight came on.
Several times they made preparations to deliver a charge, but when
they were about to come to the shock they drew off. Those bristling
lances, those tall, armoured men on the gigantic horses of Western
Europe, exerted a grim spell upon the Greek chivalry, and when the
Greek footmen saw that their lords would not endure a charge, they,
too, weakened and held back. With the gathering darkness the Greeks
began a slow withdrawal toward the farther gates in the land-walls,
and Dandolo and Boniface gave order for the host to follow them.
Slowly and cautiously, the Crusaders and Venetians advanced from the
camp, gained the foot of the hill and passed out upon the plain. But
now the Greeks refused to come forward. They followed their Emperor
in precipitate flight.
There was no elation in the Crusaders' camp. The men of the host
were too weary and dispirited from their toil and the loss of many
brave comrades. The Venetians nourished the bitter memory of the
victory they had been compelled to sacrifice. Moreover, no man could
be sure what the morrow would bring forth. It might be that the
Greeks would come out again with still greater numbers and force
battle with disastrous results to the host. And to crown all, there
was but little food for the hungry men. Provisions were running low,
and the rations served out consisted of a handful of mouldy flour and
a slice of bacon.
Matteo summed up the situation in a single sentence.
"We are come hither to conquer," he said, "and we are now come to the
point that we must conquer or perish. For we cannot go back."
None disputed him, and many thought that he was over-confident in
presuming they had left even a chance of conquest. But in the night
whilst the tired warriors of the host slept in their tents on the
hill over against Blachernae, a panic was let loose behind the
bulwarks which had hurled back each assault by daylight. The
comrades were awakened in the morning by loud shouts and hurrying
feet.
"Is it an attack?" exclaimed Hugh, struggling into his hauberk.
"Belike," returned Matteo. "We must----"
The curtain of the tent was torn away as Ralph stumbled in.
"A miracle, Messers," he cried. "The False Alexius is fled.
Messengers have come from the city. The Emperor Isaac, he that is
father to our Lord, the Young Alexius, is made Emperor, and he hath
invited the barons to come to him with his son."
The comrades stared at him unbelieving.
"Nay, Ralph, you dream," said Matteo, shaking his head. "Or mayhap
some camp scoundrel hath----"
"Were you struck in the fighting yesterday?" demanded Hugh, afraid
lest his follower might be suffering from some unknown injury.
But Ralph denied stoutly these and other imputations.
"Do you but come with me to the Lord Marshal's pavilion, and you will
see that I speak no more than truth," he declared. "For he hath the
messengers there, entertaining them the while the Marquis Boniface
and the Doge deliberate on their words."
He assisted the comrades in buckling on their armour, and then they
hurried with him to Villehardouin's quarters. There they found full
confirmation of his news.
"The varlet hath put it straightly when he calls it a miracle," said
the Marshal soberly. "I have been low in my mind these many hours
past, fair sirs. But now we are safe from all trouble. These Greek
lords within--" he waved his hand towards three Greeks dressed with
the regal magnificence which was the common standard of the nobility
of Constantinople, who sat in his pavilion eyeing curiously the
motley throng of knights and Venetian shipmasters who pressed about
the entrance--"are come bearing an invitation for the barons to enter
the city with Alexius the Younger. It seems there hath been a
revolution over-night. The False Alexius fled under cover of
darkness with what treasure he could carry and those who would
accompany him. The partisans of our Lord Alexius went to the Prisons
of Anemas and there released the blind Emperor Isaac and him they
crowned and he now awaits us in Blachernae."
"I will vow a prime relic to the shrine of St. Cuthbert of Crowden
for this aid which Heaven hath vouchsafed us," quoth Hugh.
"And I one to St. Remi at Rheims," asserted Villehardouin. "But nay,
I may not. Good St. Remi hath been ever the patron of my house, but
I bethink me that on retiring last night, I repeated St. Denis his
orison, which hath been cited to me as a prayer of great worth when
danger threatens: 'Lord God, grant that we may despise the prosperity
of this world, and not stand in fear of any adversity.' It is in my
mind that St. Denis heard my words, more by reason mayhap that I
never appealed to him before. I will build me a chapel in his honour
at Villehardouin that he may have more merit in Champagne."
"It is a sad pity that we may not take Constantinople by assault, if
many such vows are to be made," said Matteo, laughing. "For it
possesseth a vaster store of relics than did Jerusalem, before
Saladin captured the Holy City. But see who approaches!"
Winding through the streets of the camp came an imposing procession,
including the chief barons of the host, the principal churchmen, and
the leaders of the Venetians. In front of all rode Boniface and
Dandolo, with the Young Alexius between them, his dark, sullen face
for once lighted up with savage joy.
"To horse, Messers," exclaimed Villehardouin. "We are to enter the
city, it seems."
The comrades fell in with the Marshal's company, congratulating
themselves on their luck in being included in the small escort, as
the Greeks had stipulated that the main strength of the Crusaders
should remain without the walls, urging with evident sense, that to
admit so many armed foreigners would be tempting the self-restraint
of both sides, in view of the hostilities just concluded.
The column descended the hill, crossed the valley before the walls
and entered the Gate of Blachernae. Hugh stared around him with
unaffected wonder. The fortifications were even more imposing at
close range than when seen from a distance. Wall rose behind wall.
They left the gateway in the outer wall only to traverse a series of
courtyards which brought them to a second and higher barrier. Beyond
this was situated the Palace of Blachernae, itself a fortress, built
upon a terrace, partly artificial and buttressed by masonry, girded
by an enceinte that dwarfed all adjoining structures and embracing
within its precincts churches, barracks, storehouses, baths and
pleasure-fields.
The way along which the Crusaders rode was lined by files of the
Varangian Guard, immense, upstanding men in complete mail, leaning
upon their huge, double-headed axes. Two out of three, Hugh noted,
were of the same blonde Saxon type as Ralph. They bore themselves
with the conscious pride of men who know their own worth, and met the
glances of the Frankish knights with level eyes.
On the walls above were other soldiers, Greeks who shouted and sang
as the Young Alexius passed by. In the windows of the buildings were
many ladies, gaily dressed and debonair, who waved their hands and
flung down flowers to the knights.
Hugh let the reins lie loose on Beosund's crupper, and raised his
eyes to study each fair face. Time and again hope leaped high in his
heart, but always disappointment smothered it. Edith was nowhere.
Once he was all but certain she had smiled from an overhanging
balcony; again he saw one like her on a terrace crammed with beauty.
He could have sworn for an instant that her golden head peered from
behind a group of dark Armenians. Each time he had to own himself
mistaken.
"Be not so disturbed, comrade," said Matteo softly beside him.
"Remember that she whom you seek knows not of your coming. Also, it
is likely that all the great ladies of the court will be awaiting us
in the Emperor's Hall of Audience."
Hugh turned gratefully to the jongleur. He had not spoken of what
was irking him, yet Matteo had read his thoughts and known when to
drop the needed word of sympathy. A lion in battle, Matteo was
gentle and kindly as a woman in ministering to a friend.
"It is feckless of me to chafe so," Hugh admitted. "But I have a
fear that the maid has been harmed by this idle court life--and I
grew up with her as with a sister."
Matteo smiled discreetly.
"As the daughter of the Grand Acolyth," he replied, "she will be one
of the principal dames of the Court. Her father's office is to
follow the Emperor wherever he goes. Therefore she should be in
close attendance upon the Empress."
The cavalcade was halted presently in the outer courtyard of the
Imperial residence. The lords and knights dismounted, formed their
ranks anew, and under the guidance of Court chamberlains, marched
through the inner courtyard, paved with marble and decorated with
flowering trees and spouting fountains, up a broad flight of
tesselated steps, past a portico of granite monoliths and so into the
Hall of Audience. Hugh caught his breath at the first glimpse of
that gorgeous vista.
"May the Virgin aid me!" he stammered. "'Tis as long as a
jousting-field!"
Columns of Parian marble, onyx, jasper, malachite, jade, polished
granite, supported the lofty roof. The walls and floor were covered
with mosaics of contrasting stones, cunningly carved and blended.
The effect of the whole was a dazzling perspective of glowing
colours, interspersed with portraits of Emperors, Empresses and
generals. From the roof hung bronze lamps, supported by golden
chains and burning scented oil. At the farther end, on an elevated
throne that blazed with jewels, sat the Emperor Isaac, a frail,
quavering, white-haired old man, who trembled under the weight of the
crown that mocked the contrast of his gaudy vestments with his senile
lips and seared-out eyes. His Empress, the Augusta Margaret, sister
of King Emeric of Hungary, a stately dame who had been spared the
rigours of his captivity, sat on a slightly lower throne beside him.
Around them were clustered a brilliant court, and at the doddering
Emperor's elbow Hugh marked the scarlet surcoat and winged helm of
Sir Cedric. But of Edith he saw no trace amongst the bevy of
beautiful ladies who attended the Empress.
The Crusaders, so different in their stained and rusty armour and
tattered surcoats from the richness of the Greeks, paused in front of
the steps to the throne; and Boniface stood forward with the Young
Alexius.
"Fair lord," he said, "behold, we bring back to you your son!"
"Eh? Eh?" mumbled the Emperor. "My--my son? Yes, yes. My son."
One of the group of courtiers behind the Emperor leaned over and
whispered in his ear. Hugh nudged Matteo. The courtier was the
Cæsar Michael Comnenus.
"Eh? Yes, yes," Isaac continued as Comnenus stepped back. "You have
brought my son. I thank you, lords. I have been sorely tried. The
majesty of Cæsar's heir hath been set at naught. The wicked have
prevailed a while. But God hath--hath----" He seemed to fumble for
words and turned the hollow cavities that were his eyes from side to
side.--"Where is my son?" he ended querulously.
Alexius knelt on the topmost step of the throne, and kissed his
father's limp hand. Neither one of the pair showed any emotion, but
they spoke rapidly together in Greek.
"What do they say?" Hugh whispered to Matteo.
"The old Emperor is not such a fool as he looks," returned the
jongleur. "He asks what brings these Franks in his son's train, and
how much their services cost."
"They find no joy in each other's company," commented Hugh. "Nay,
not even the Empress shows pleasure that her son is returned to her
safe and whole."
"The Angeloi are a cold-blooded race," replied Matteo. "They have no
affection. Fathers murder sons; sons blind fathers. It is all one
to them, so be it there are power and luxury for them after the
crime. As to the Empress, she is not this youth's mother. He was
born of an earlier marriage."
Alexius rose from his knees, and faced the Crusaders.
"Lords of the host," he said in his harsh, unpleasant voice, "my
father thanks you by me for the great services you have done him, and
he bids me say that he wots well that these services are such that he
could not reward you too much an he gave you the whole of his empire.
But he craves now that you will permit him to withdraw with the
chiefs of the host and his own counsellors that they may devise means
whereby all shall be satisfied. And he bids those other Frankish
lords and knights here present to take their pleasure as they will
during the conclave and to treat his palace as their home."
The Emperor tottered to his feet, and leaning on the arms of his son
and Comnenus, who came promptly to his side, led Boniface and Dandolo
through a doorway which communicated with the private Imperial
apartments. The remaining lords and knights stood about the hall,
either talking among themselves or with such of the Greek nobles as
understood the lingua franca. Pages appeared with goblets and jars
of wine, offering to serve all who were thirsty.
Hugh surveyed the room again, and in despair came to a sudden
determination.
"I will present myself to Sir Cedric," he said to Matteo. "Certes,
he will know who I am, and can tell me of----"
"Ay, do so, comrade," returned Matteo, smiling merrily. "It may be
she is not so far away as it seemeth you."
"I misdoubt she is wed or gone hence," said Hugh gloomily.
He swung his shield to his back, and started to walk toward the dais
where Sir Cedric stood in converse with Villehardouin and Count
Baldwin. But he had not walked three steps when a silvery voice
saluted him.
"By your leave, sir knight! Pray do not haste so! And have you no
thought for old friends of the days before you had golden spurs to
your heels?"
"Edith!" exclaimed Hugh.
He turned, with a clash of arms, and stared uncomprehendingly at the
elegant, slim figure in the clinging silken draperies and high
conical headdress. Could this be the Edith he had known? The
comrade of boyish escapades, the breeched and jerkined rider of the
black mare, the woman-child, hoydenish and demure, creature of tears
and smiles? This wondrously beautiful person, with the haughty
manner of a princess born to command?
"It is even I, oh, conqueror of Galata!"
"You knew me?" he gasped.
"Ay, verily, sir knight. I waited long for you to step up and greet
me, and in the end I cast away my poor pride and sought you,
supposing that perchance you had dropped me from your memory."
"I forget you?" said Hugh bewildered. "Nay, Edith. Hast--hast----"
His fingers sought instinctively the place under his hauberk where
there nestled--had nestled for two years now--a frayed and soiled
little glove.
"Do you seek for somewhat else than memory, Messer Hugh?" she
questioned.
"It is a glove--you gave me," answered Hugh stumblingly.
She flushed.
"We will not speak of that now. Hast no curiosity to learn how I
heard of you?"
"And Galata? Ay."
"There came one hither in the night--oh, a lady most fair to see, a
very queen!--she and her father compassed the downfall of that clown
Alexius. When the Empress made us known to one another she asked me
if I knew of you. She sang your praises like a jongleur, Hugh. No
knight in all the Frankish host to rival you. You must have served
her well."
Hugh frowned.
"You mean the Lady Helena Comnena?" he said coldly. "She----"
"Who speaks my name?"
The dark, smiling face of Helena emerged from the nearby circle of
courtiers.
"Ha, by the Panagia, 'tis my Lord Hugh! And hast found your old
friend, Messer Hugh? Right glad she was of the news I gave her of
you! You must come and see me, Hugh. We lodge in the Palace of the
Porphyrogenitus beyond the Tower of Anemas. God keep you!" Still
smiling, she was gone.
"You saved her from robbers in France, did you not?" asked Edith
negligently.
"Ay," said Hugh dully. "She told you that?"
"Even so. Ah, Hugh, I dare wager there are a-many ladies to sing the
praises of such a knight!"
Hugh shook his head stiffly.
"You mock me. Before I go hence, may I present to you my comrade,
Messer Matteo of Antioch?"
"The jongleur? Ay, that may you! I have heard reports of his skill."
Matteo bowed low before her when Hugh beckoned him forward.
"May the Virgin guard you, lady," said the jongleur. "It is right
pleasant for me to meet so staunch a friend of Hugh's--and those who
are friends to him are friends to me."
"Is he so true a friend, this Hugh, Messer Matteo?" she asked.
Matteo's face lighted with the glow of an affection that was almost
feminine in its intensity.
"He is as true a friend as the Lord God may give to a poor wanderer
on this earth," he said simply.
"I hear great things of him," replied Edith. "I would all I heard
came from lips like yours. You----"
The trumpets of the Court heralds brayed to announce the return of
the Emperor and the chiefs of the host.