The Retreat (medieval historical fiction)

Chapter 2 The Decision

In that year, Shalk led a mighty army east across the Reiber to subdue the pagans. But Shalk's people did not cease from lust and greed and so incurred the wrath of God. Rightly, the expedition ended in shame and ignominy. The only man to emerge from the affair with any credit was Gerard and he but a poor footsoldier.

– Anonymous, The Deeds of Count Stephen

In the first weeks of the crusade to the Holy Land, I paid no attention to those who walked on foot and I'm sorry that I failed to take the opportunity to learn from a man whom I came to admire very greatly. It may well have been that I had ridden past Gerard at some point during the month that our army marched eastwards through a grim German forest, but he would have been beneath my notice. Gerard was a footsoldier, whereas I was a knight riding a warhorse that cost twenty pounds of silver.

I've since learned to not judge men or women by their birth or position. A bishop might be a coward and a fool, while a farmer's daughter might be as terrifying as a goddess from the ancient world. Back then, though it was not so long ago, I thought differently and despite the fact that I was surrounded by thousands of footsoldiers, farmers, cooks, washerwomen, ironworkers, carpenters and craftsmen of every kind, I gave them no heed.

Only when he grasped my foot did Gerard come to my attention. This incident occurred when we were in the central square of the city that our army had just sacked: Devinium. We should never have been there. These were Christians that our army had killed. Devinium was one of King Bratislav of Hungary's most important cities. Despite the reluctance of our leader, Duke Shalk, our army had thrown ladders up against the walls and captured the city. Utterly surprised, the defenders of Devinium had been overwhelmed by the assault. They had trusted fellow Christians not to harm them. Yet had they heard the vigour with which our soldiers cursed at the high price set on foodstuffs and had they known of the rumours that circulated, blaming Devinium for the murder and robbery our poor, then perhaps the people of that city would have realised their danger.

Of course, I took no part in the looting and was as eager as anyone to leave a city on whose streets could be seen bloodstains that made me feel guilty. So as our people made preparations for departure, Arnulf and I were among the first to mount. Shalk's sergeants were ushering everyone towards the gates and as they did so, they explained to us all an agreement that had been reached between King Bratislav and the leaders of our army. We were to surrender our weapons and be escorted to the border of Hungary, where they would be returned to us.

Carts, creaking loudly each time they lurched forward, queued to pass under the great portcullis; soldiers hurried to find their places; all along the main street of the town, women – some with children, it was that kind of expedition – waited for their turn to join the slow-moving line. In the past, the assembly of our army was the occasion for a certain amount of ribald shouting from the women, along with cheers for their favourites (they had never cheered for me; perhaps that was just as well, for I would have blushed at some of the invitations they made). Today, however, the women were subdued and anxious. As well they might be. Could we trust King Bratislav after our people had looted one of his most important cities?

'Come on!' Arnulf, my sour-faced, moustached sergeant had spotted an opening in the queue and urged his courser onwards. Even without my bidding him to, my stallion – Tenebrour – stepped forward also. The whole journey thus far had been like this and it irritated me. I was a lord, well, eldest son of a lord, and (despite my promise to Father) felt that I should be making the decisions, not my sergeant and certainly not my horse.

So far this expedition had provided me with little excitement and a great deal of frustration. I had joined the army wanting to fight in epic battles so that I could prove myself and return home a hero. Instead, throughout our long journey in the German forest we'd seen nothing more dangerous than raids on our goods by vagabonds. These skirmishes were always over quickly and I had yet to draw my sword in anger. Nor had I done so when Devinium was taken. Yesterday's fighting was just butchery.