Lionheart (22 page)

THE FOLLOWING DAY, Richard crossed the Faro, took possession of the town of Bagnara, and installed Joanna and her household in the Augustinian priory of St Mary, with a strong guard of knights and men-at-arms to see to her safety. Returning to Messina the next morning, he then seized the Greek Orthodox monastery of the Holy Saviour, located on a strategic spit of land outside the harbor; summarily evicting the monks, he turned the abbey into a storage facility for his siege engines, provisions, and horses. The citizens of Messina were enraged by his high-handed action, but alarmed, too, for now that he held both Bagnara and the monastery, he controlled the straits, and they began to wonder what his intentions were. So did Tancred.

CHAPTER 10

OCTOBER 1190

Messina, Sicily

It began innocently enough, with a dispute between one of Richard’s soldiers and a woman selling loaves of bread. When he accused her of cheating him, she became enraged, and he was set upon by her friends and neighbors, badly beaten by citizens very resentful of these insolent foreigners in their midst. They then shut the gates of Messina to the English and put up chains to bar the inner harbor to their ships. Infuriated that crusaders should be treated so shabbily, the English were all for forcing their way into the city. Only Richard’s appearance upon the scene prevented a riot. After dispersing his angry men with some difficulty, he summoned the French king and the Sicilian officials to an urgent meeting the next day at his lodgings, in hopes of resolving these grievances through diplomacy.

THE MESSINIANS WERE REPRESENTED by their governor, Jordan Lapin, Admiral Margaritis, and the archbishops of Messina, Monreale, and Reggio. The French king was accompanied by the Duke of Burgundy, the counts of Nevers and Louvain, Jaufre of Perche, and the bishops of Chartres and Langres. Richard’s companions included the archbishops of Rouen and Auch, and the bishops of Bayonne and Evreux. But before the conference began, he drew the French king aside for a private word.

“We cannot sail for Outremer until the favorable winds return in the spring. Since we’re going to be stuck here all winter, we cannot allow these stupid squabbles to continue. It will help immeasurably if you and I present a united front, Philippe. I assume I can count upon your support in these negotiations.”

“My men have encountered no troubles with the Messinians. The strife did not begin until your army arrived, so I’d look to them as the source of contention, not the local people.”

“How many men do you have with you—less than a thousand? I doubt that the French would be such welcome guests if they numbered as many as mine.”

“Or mayhap it is simpler than that, Richard. Mayhap your men are not as well disciplined as mine.”

“Need I remind you that Saladin is the enemy, not me?”

“And need I remind you that your men took the cross to fight the Saracens, not the Sicilians?”

And on that sour note, the peace conference began.

THE DISCUSSIONS WERE going better than Richard had expected, solely due to the diplomatic efforts of one man, the Archbishop of Monreale. Jordan Lapin and Admiral Margaritis were openly hostile, complaining angrily about the bad behavior of the English. Philippe declared that the French were impartial and offered to mediate, but he also agreed with all of the Sicilian accusations, much to Richard’s fury. Only the archbishop seemed willing to concede that there were wrongs on both sides; he alone did not reject Richard’s proposal to set fixed prices for bread and wine, and did his best to calm rising tempers.

Jordan Lapin was not as conciliatory. “Prices have risen because the demand for food has increased dramatically, not because our people are seeking to cheat your men. I should think that would be obvious to anyone with a brain in his head!”

“What is obvious,” Richard said curtly, “is that something is amiss when a loaf of bread suddenly costs more than three chickens, or the price of wine triples from one day to the next. Your king, may God assoil him, often said that nothing was more important than the recovery of Jerusalem. He would have been appalled that his subjects are seeking to defraud Christian pilgrims, men who’ve taken the cross.”

Jordan glared across the table at the English king. “My lord William would have been appalled to see those ‘Christian pilgrims’ behaving like barbarians in a city of his realm. And your lords do nothing to rein them in. When I complained to one of your barons about the way his men were accosting our women, he laughed. He laughed and said they were not trying to seduce the wives, just to annoy the husbands!”

Richard hastily brought his wine cup to his mouth, but not in time to hide a grin. “They are soldiers, not saints. Yes, some of them are going to flirt with women and get drunk and brawl in your taverns. But I can control my army as long as they do not think they are being gulled or duped. That is why it is so important to fix prices. Nor are your people blameless in this. I’ve heard them cursing my men in the marketplace, jeering and calling them ‘long-tailed English.’”

The governor interrupted to point out that the English were just as offensive, using the insulting term “Griffon” to refer to citizens of Greek heritage. Richard ignored him, turning his attention to Margaritis. “I’ve been told that your crews roam the streets, my lord admiral, seeking to start fights with any English they find.”

Margaritis shrugged. “They are sailors, not saints.” As their eyes met, the Greek admiral and the English king shared a brief moment of understanding, one soldier to another. It did not last, though. The governor reclaimed control of the conversation, insisting that Richard pay for property damages and threatening to declare Messina off-limits to all of his men. The Archbishop of Monreale again stepped into the breach, and was attempting to find common ground when the door burst open.

“My liege, you must come at once!” Baldwin de Bethune was flushed and out of breath. “Hugh de Lusignan’s lodging is under attack!”

The de Lusignans were some of Richard’s most troublesome vassals, but they
were
his vassals. Jumping to his feet, he started toward the door, pausing only when the governor demanded to know what he meant to do. “I mean to do what you are either unable or unwilling to do, my lord count,” he said sharply. “I am going to restore order in Messina.”

TURNING AT THE SOUND of his name, Morgan saw a friend, Warin Fitz Gerald, coming toward him. “I just heard about the attack on de Lusignan’s house. The king chased the mob off?”

Morgan nodded. “They fled when he rode up with some of his knights. But he has run out of patience, Warin, and he returned to his lodgings to arm himself. I think he means to take the city.”

“About time! The lot of them are worse than vultures, eager to pluck our bones clean, and if one of our men dares to venture off on his own, he’s likely to end up dead in an alley or floating facedown in the harbor.” Warin paused, giving the younger man a quizzical look. “So why are you not happier about it, Morgan? We get to teach those grasping louts a much-needed lesson and have some fun doing it. Yet you look about as cheerful as a Martinmas stoat.” Warin was genuinely puzzled, for he knew the Welshman was no battle virgin; he’d bloodied his sword in the service of both the old king and Richard’s brother Geoffrey. “Why are you loath to punish the Griffons as they deserve?”

“I am not.” Morgan hesitated, not sure he could make Warin understand.

“When the king ordered the townsmen to disperse, they defied him at first, jeering and cursing and even daring to make that evil-eye gesture of theirs. He was infuriated by their defiance, angrier than I’ve ever seen him, and I’ve seen him as hot as molten lead.”

“So? Kings do not take well to mockery. What of it?”

Morgan paused again. How could he admit that he had misgivings about Richard’s judgment, that he feared Richard’s temper might lead him into doing something rash? He was spared the need to respond, though, for Richard had just ridden into the camp. The knights of his household were gathering around him, and Morgan and Warin hastened to join them. By the time they reached him, Richard had just chosen André de Chauvigny to lead the assault upon the town gates.

André was delighted, but surprised, too, for he’d never known Richard not to be the first one into the breach. “We will need time to make a battering ram, though—”

Richard was already shaking his head. “No . . . take axes and strike at the gate hinges. That will keep them occupied whilst I lead some of our men around to the west. There is a postern gate in the wall there and the approach is so steep that it is not well guarded. We ought to be able to force an entry easily enough, and once we’re inside, we can open the gates for the rest of you whilst our galleys attack the city from the sea.”

That met with enthusiastic approval. Morgan felt a rush of relief, realizing his qualms had been needless. There was nothing haphazard or impulsive about the battle plan Richard had just proposed; it was well conceived and tactically sound. But he had to ask. “How do you know about that postern gate, sire?”

“The day after my arrival in Messina, I went out and inspected the city’s defenses.”

Morgan wasn’t sure what surprised him the most—that Richard had the foresight to anticipate trouble with the townspeople, or that he sounded so coolly matter-of-fact now. It was as if the liquid fire of Sicily’s great volcano had suddenly iced over, he marveled, so dramatic had been this transformation from enraged king to calculating battle commander, and when Richard began to select men for that covert assault upon the postern gate, he was among the first to volunteer.

THE ASCENT WAS A STEEP ONE, but once they reached the postern gate, they discovered that Richard was right and it was unguarded. A startled sentry did not appear until their axes had smashed it open, and his cry of alarm was choked off by a crossbow bolt to the throat. Scrambling through the shattered timbers, they followed Richard into a ghost city, for at first it seemed like one. The street was deserted, and the few civilians they encountered fled before them. They advanced cautiously, knowing word would quickly spread of their intrusion, and people were soon shouting and cursing from open windows. Before long, rocks and crockery and arrows were raining down upon them, but they fended off the aerial onslaught with their shields. One bold householder flung the contents of a chamber pot and drenched an unlucky soldier, much to his outrage and the amusement of the others. He wanted to exact vengeance then and there, but was sternly reminded that they had more pressing matters. He was still arguing about it, though, when one of Richard’s scouts came racing back, warning that a large group of men were gathering ahead.

Richard dispatched some of his knights toward a nearby alley, saying it led into a street that ran parallel to their own. Morgan was one of the men chosen for this diversion and they took off at a run, hoping to cover as much distance as possible while they still had the element of surprise. Impressed by the thoroughness of their king’s reconnaissance, for the alley had indeed opened into a narrow lane, they hastened along it until they came to a wider cross street. By now they could hear the unmistakable clamor of conflict and they followed the sound, soon coming onto a chaotic scene.