Chapter XIX: 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.