Chapter Nine

Bari, Italy winter of 1096-1097

“Our travel from Normandy south was more or less uneventful. Except, after we traveled five days and were just outside Blois, I was summoned to the command tent.”

“And Blois is how far off a journey?” Grant asked fishing in his vest pocket for another cigar.

“Blois is about two-hundred kilometers from Rouen. It would take some average traveler two weeks or more. However, Counts, Dukes, and Earls’ hell bent on joining the Crusades march to a higher standard. They stretched us to the limit. We marched until we could march no more, and then for good measure, we marched more after our dinner. I fell into my blanket every night dead tired from exhaustion. My feet hurt, my back hurt and my legs hurt.”

“You said a bad word,” Sally said with a smile. “Hell, hell, hell.” She giggled.

“Sally that is enough,” Sally’s mother placed a hand on her daughter’s mouth. “Please excuse her again. Why were you called to the tent?”

 “I was called because…”

A tap on his shoulder awoke Colin from a deep, well-deserved sleep. The man said something he didn’t understand. Although Colin learned some French while imprisoned in the keep, it wasn’t enough to understand any. The sun crept over the trees and the crisp smell of another warm fall day began. The trees knew it was fall, their red, yellow, and orange leaves fluttered in the breeze. However, the daytime temperature refused to let go of summer. The nighttime temperatures forgot about fall altogether and launched straight to early winter chills.

Finally, the messenger pantomimed that he was to follow him and led him to a large multicolored tent where he motioned for Colin to enter and then ran as fast as he could in the other direction. Loud voices erupted through the walls of the tent as Colin timidly poked his head through the opening.

“Ah, there you are,” the Earl said, his arms folded. “Robert will be with you shortly. Yes, he sent for you. However, at the moment he is amid an important matter.” Colin noticed the other four in the room were dressed the same in dark gray chain mail over a white tunic bearing a large flared Red Cross. He remembered seeing these men his first day in the castle. A large map hung from the ceiling. The men crowded near the map, each of them adamantly arguing and pointing to different countries.

“They are planning our route. Each one is too stubborn to back down from their chosen path. Count Stephen wishes to march South through all of France to Catalonia, cross the Mediterranean to Corsica then across the Tyrrhenum Sea to Rome and finally to Bari before we stop for the winter. The argument against that route is it would triple our travel time. Count Robert wants to cross East through France and then The Holy Roman Empire until we reach Croatia. From Croatia, he plans ongoing South through Serbia, Bulgaria, Macedonia and finally Constantinople.” The Earl draped his arm around Colin and steered him into the room.

 “Count Robert’s plan also includes stopping for the winter. This argument against the plan is simple. The inhabitants of those barbaric countries would be inhospitable and would fight us most of the way.  Duke's route would take us through France and the mountains of Burgundy and on to Rome and Bari where we could stop for the winter. There is an argument that a sudden winter storm could make the mountains a formidable task. However, of the three routes, it is the fairest.” The Earl finished and squeezed Colin’s shoulder.

“But, my lord, why am I here?” Colin said staring at the map. He knew nothing about the countries and oceans. Until this moment, his world remained small. He couldn’t fathom the extent of the world beyond his meager start. Colin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling the sudden urge to run away.

 “Why indeed? I’m against your presence and have been so from the beginning. If I could have my druthers, you would hang from the nearest tree,” The Earl laughed and pointed toward Colin’s neck. “However, the Duke has taken a liking toward you. God only knows why. He insists on your overall importance to this Crusade. As far as I am concerned, you are an ignorant peasant, but I cannot dissuade the duke. You, my dear boy, are here to break the tie.”

“Break the tie? You must be mistaken. I am but a simple man and could never decide like that. I must return to Dover and marry my true love, Alison.” Colin shook his head. “I mean Amelia.”

“My boy, your plans are insignificant. Your plans are now the policies of the Duke. You are here to break the tie and break the tie you will.” He wrung his hands together with a purely evil grin.

“But, Your Grace, you are wise, and a military genius. You should break the tie.” Colin briefly covered his eyes as he spoke.

The Earl scowled. “I break the tie?  I would agree that you are an insignificant peasant. I am the best choice for making this decision. However, the Duke expects me to remain impartial. The Duke has dreamt that you are to be his new squire. He has chosen you to be the one to decide the fate of these Crusades. I cannot see for the life of me why. But it’s out of my hands.”

“I can’t decide,” Colin said, overwhelmed. Colin rubbed his palms along his pants. He rubbed his clammy palms.

The Duke asked the Earl a question Colin did not understand. “Yes, my lord. The boy has chosen the mountains of Burgundy as the better route.” A sly smile embellished the duke’s countenance as he squinted at Colin. “The die has been cast. I think you should learn French Squire Colin.”

“So, there you have it. I went from a lowly peasant from Canterbury to the squire of one of the most influential people in the world. This was a position I neither aspired to nor wished for.” Colin touched the scarab.

An elderly man in the rear of the room raised his hand.

 “Sonny, you mentioned the country of Burgundy. I’ve been around a long time and consider myself well versed in history, but I’ve never heard of that country, although, I have to add, I enjoy a good glass of wine from the area. Did you mean to say Switzerland or France?”

“Not exactly. The country we call Switzerland was part of the German Nation, which was included in the Holy Roman Empire at the time. The place that I speak of ceased to exist centuries ago and has been known by many names including Turin as recently as thirty years ago, which is now part of Northern Italy, and it is a very mountainous and breathtaking region.”

“Ah, thank you, sir, and pardon me for interrupting.”

 “It’s all right. I can see how the whole thing might be confusing. It meant that Rango, and I were reunited. That was almost worth becoming the Duke's squire. I will rush through our march to our winter camp. We marched to Blois where Count Stephen’s soldiers joined our ranks. That made our total number around ten thousand, not counting the noncombatants. The non-combatants almost matched the soldier’s numbers. From Blois, we marched Southeast through France, turning southward when we reached the mountains. Those mountains were treacherous and cold, imagine. Tragically, many a good man was lost due to falls along the cliffs and crevices, but we persevered and conquered those mountains despite our losses and an early snowstorm stopping our progress for five days. We continued south to Rome where the counts, Duke, and Earl sought the counsel of The Most Holy Father, Pope Urban the Second. We all took to heart, took up the spirit, and renewed our vows for our crusade. Perhaps being so close to His Holiness brings out the best in men or perhaps it was the enthusiasm for the quest, but I decided that the Duke's holy quest was my holy quest.”

 “I have been in the presence of many religious men as well. I have discovered that their fervor can be moving. Sometimes they grip my soul, and sometimes they were scoundrels,” exclaimed Grant.

“That was the first time I have been in the presence of a holy man. But it was not the first, nor the last time I have been in the presence of scoundrels.” Colin clasped his fingers together in a steeple and rested his chin on the tips. “All I will say is that I felt the same awe when I was in the company of men like George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Benjamin Franklin to only name a few.”

 “I can imagine. Are you sure the story of the Crusades is necessary? They were so violent, and a blight on mankind’s past,” Sally’s mother, said with a sigh.

“Well, the story about meeting the Pope, boring as it might be, intertwines with my lovely wife. I cannot tell the story of my wife without telling of the Crusades.”

“Very well, continue.”

Colin smiled. “After leaving Rome, we marched southwest again until we reached Bari on the coast of the Adriatic Sea. Duke Robert decided that he would winter in Bari before we left Normandy but his cousin, Count Robert insisted on continuing to Constantinople. The council told him not to continue. The Adriatic can be a fearsome crossing in winter. No one could change his mind. He arranged for enough ships to carry his troops – once he threatened the captains. In the end, they will risk their lives and the lives of their crew. I found out later that the Count's ship sunk, but the heartless count was rescued and made it to Constantinople without further incident and without a care to the crew and troops that died on that crossing.”

“Did you meet the count when you got to Constanamultiple?” Sally asked.

“You will just have to listen to the story as the rest,” Colin said with a wink. “The Earl of Kent left Bari before winter ended. He gave no reason for leaving. Some say he received another letter from the archbishop who was having problems of his own. I don’t know if I believe that rumor. The king banished the Archbishop from England in the fall of 1097. The Earl died in Palermo in February the same year. I only tell you this because both men were a major part of my life’s story, at least until that point.”

“They were both evil men. The Earl wanted to kill you.” Sally leaned forward, her chin resting on her knees, and her eyebrows knitted together.

“That’s right, Sally. Neither man was known for his kindness.” He patted her on the head and continued. “We were greeted by an early spring; the Adriatic Sea settled down enough so our vast army could cross without incident. We reached Constantinople in May 1097. Yes, Sally, we met up with Count Robert. Constantinople became the launching point of one of the bleakest parts of our history. The armies of the first Crusade numbered over three-hundred thousand. The Muslims that held the town of Nicaea became the army’s first victim.”