Chapter 1
GESTA FRANCORUM
ET ALIORUM HIEROSOLYMITANORUM
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CONTENTS
Chapter I — (This Post)
Chapter II
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Friday, 15 July 1099 AD
Jerusalem — Late Evening
It was hot. Even with the dying sun, the heat in this country was oppressive. Godefroy stood still and watched the chaotic siege conclude through the haze before him. The sound of blades clashing was augmented by the sounds of destruction which grew in the background, from the crackling of fires to the breaching of doors. A frenzied crusader shoved past him, rushing forward with his sword raised and bellowing holy creeds into the air. As he stumbled, Godefroy's boots stuck to the streets which were thick with coagulated blood.
"Onward! The Sepulchre is before us!" shouted someone in a thick Norman accent. Godefroy watched as Tancred de Hauteville charged forward, knights following after him as they chased the retreating Saracen civilians down the narrow passageways, cutting down or capturing who they saw fit.
He stepped forward — his feet were leaden after the storming of the Tower of David, but they had to press onward, for the goal of their Holy Pilgrimage was within sight. With what strength he had left, he raised his shield and marched forward. Within seconds, a contingent of knights had formed around him and had interlocked their shields. As they went, they trampled ruined merchant's goods and broken carts — signs of the siege and the continuing struggle thereafter — until finally they had reached the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
Together they beat at the door until it gave, and entered the darkness within. The dim twilight illuminated the vaults above them, and they slowed their pace, lowering their shields to marvel at the interior of the holy place. The great and loud siege that had been ocurring outside fell silent as they approached the Aedicule. Only the sound of their clinking armour as they slowly stepped closer filled the once silent vaults of the Church.
"What a sight," said Tancred, his great Norman voice booming in the cavernous vaults.
"By the Virgin," said Raymond of Tolouse, lowering his shield to look closer. "This is what we've come here for."
Godefroy said nothing. He could summon no words. Before he knew it, he had fallen to his knees with his sword before him. He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and let out a sigh.
"God wills it," said Raymond, following suit and prostrating himself.
Has he mistaken my exhaustion for piousness? thought Godefroy. He might have chuckled, had he the strength left.
"God wills it," repeated Tancred. One by one, the crusaders who had followed them in joined in, repeating the motto as they fell to flexed knees and prayed before the Aedicule. They remained there in silence for a moment, until somebody began to recite:
"Pater noster, qui es in caelis,
Sanctificetur nomen tuum..."
The entirety of the knights' contingent that knelt within the chapel joined in in thunderous chorus. Their voices rang out and were echoed by the ceiling's vaults. When they had concluded, Godefroy stood up once more, and turned from the Aedicule. He circumambulated the Katholikon with Tancred and Raymond close in tow, passing through the northern transept and approaching the staircase to the ruined eastern chapel. He hesitated, and his company halted behind him.
"What is it?" asked Tancred. "Trouble?"
Godefroy slowly looked back at Tancred and Raymond. "We have done it. We are here."
"Right," said Raymond. "So, what comes next?"
Godefroy went silent as he thought for a moment. He looked out through the ruined eastern chapel at the dark city. The sun had completely set, but the fires of the siege still illuminated the sky with an embery glow. The sounds of the assault had quieted, though they had not completely vanished from the wind, as frenzied crusaders continued to commit whatever atrocities they felt warranted after their long-fought campaign. Perhaps they were not the Holy Warriors I thought they were, thought Godefroy to himself as he stared out at the night sky.
"Godefroy?" said Raymond.
"Hm?" Godefroy's senses returned to where he stood. "Apologies — the weight of the day has gotten to my bones."
"I can understand," said Raymond, removing his helmet and dropping it to the ground. He leant on a wall and took a deep breath. "In two days we have done the impossible."
"And this day is over," said Tancred in his big Norman voice, looking up at the darkening sky, its features obscured by the glow of the fires burning brightly below. "There's nothing more we can do."
"I think Tancred is right," said Godefroy. "We have spent two days undergoing these tribulations in the eyes of our Lord — and behold! He has willed the city into our hands."
"Your hands," added Tancred. "He's willed it into your hands."
Godefroy looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"He's right," said Raymond. "Have you no recollection? Was it not your contingent that first overtook the Wall?"
"Have you forgotten how you led the storming of the Gate of Herod?" added Tancred.
"And wasn't it you who first fell to your knees in prayer there at the Aedicule of our Lord?"
Godefroy felt a twinge of guilt at their last assertion. "My friends, were you not as exhausted as I was in that moment?"
"Be not modest," said Raymond. He picked his helmet back up and placed a hand on Godefroy's shoulder.
"If God had not willed you to lead us in kneeling at the Aedicule," said Tancred, "then it wouldn't have happened as such."
"I suppose you're right," said Godefroy, not one to argue with divine will.
"You needn't suppose," asserted Raymond. "We have all witnessed that it was Godefroy de Bouillon, Son of Eustache de Boulogne, who took the city of Jerusalem out of the hands of the Saracen."
"My friends," said Godefroy, holding up his hand. "Please — I am exhausted. Let us rest this night and assemble a council in the morning."
"We must decide who is King," said Raymond.
"Can it not be done in the morning as well if not better than at night?" said Godefroy.
"Indeed it could," said Raymond, "but I think we already know whom we intend to nominate to that end." With that, Raymond turned and walked back to the mass of knights at the Aedicule. Tancred hesitated a moment, opening his mouth as though he had something to say, but decided against it and followed Raymond.
Do they mean me? thought Godefroy to himself. He didn't know. He was tired.
Jerusalem — Late Evening
It was hot. Even with the dying sun, the heat in this country was oppressive. Godefroy stood still and watched the chaotic siege conclude through the haze before him. The sound of blades clashing was augmented by the sounds of destruction which grew in the background, from the crackling of fires to the breaching of doors. A frenzied crusader shoved past him, rushing forward with his sword raised and bellowing holy creeds into the air. As he stumbled, Godefroy's boots stuck to the streets which were thick with coagulated blood.
"Onward! The Sepulchre is before us!" shouted someone in a thick Norman accent. Godefroy watched as Tancred de Hauteville charged forward, knights following after him as they chased the retreating Saracen civilians down the narrow passageways, cutting down or capturing who they saw fit.
He stepped forward — his feet were leaden after the storming of the Tower of David, but they had to press onward, for the goal of their Holy Pilgrimage was within sight. With what strength he had left, he raised his shield and marched forward. Within seconds, a contingent of knights had formed around him and had interlocked their shields. As they went, they trampled ruined merchant's goods and broken carts — signs of the siege and the continuing struggle thereafter — until finally they had reached the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
Together they beat at the door until it gave, and entered the darkness within. The dim twilight illuminated the vaults above them, and they slowed their pace, lowering their shields to marvel at the interior of the holy place. The great and loud siege that had been ocurring outside fell silent as they approached the Aedicule. Only the sound of their clinking armour as they slowly stepped closer filled the once silent vaults of the Church.
"What a sight," said Tancred, his great Norman voice booming in the cavernous vaults.
"By the Virgin," said Raymond of Tolouse, lowering his shield to look closer. "This is what we've come here for."
Godefroy said nothing. He could summon no words. Before he knew it, he had fallen to his knees with his sword before him. He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and let out a sigh.
"God wills it," said Raymond, following suit and prostrating himself.
Has he mistaken my exhaustion for piousness? thought Godefroy. He might have chuckled, had he the strength left.
"God wills it," repeated Tancred. One by one, the crusaders who had followed them in joined in, repeating the motto as they fell to flexed knees and prayed before the Aedicule. They remained there in silence for a moment, until somebody began to recite:
"Pater noster, qui es in caelis,
Sanctificetur nomen tuum..."
The entirety of the knights' contingent that knelt within the chapel joined in in thunderous chorus. Their voices rang out and were echoed by the ceiling's vaults. When they had concluded, Godefroy stood up once more, and turned from the Aedicule. He circumambulated the Katholikon with Tancred and Raymond close in tow, passing through the northern transept and approaching the staircase to the ruined eastern chapel. He hesitated, and his company halted behind him.
"What is it?" asked Tancred. "Trouble?"
Godefroy slowly looked back at Tancred and Raymond. "We have done it. We are here."
"Right," said Raymond. "So, what comes next?"
Godefroy went silent as he thought for a moment. He looked out through the ruined eastern chapel at the dark city. The sun had completely set, but the fires of the siege still illuminated the sky with an embery glow. The sounds of the assault had quieted, though they had not completely vanished from the wind, as frenzied crusaders continued to commit whatever atrocities they felt warranted after their long-fought campaign. Perhaps they were not the Holy Warriors I thought they were, thought Godefroy to himself as he stared out at the night sky.
"Godefroy?" said Raymond.
"Hm?" Godefroy's senses returned to where he stood. "Apologies — the weight of the day has gotten to my bones."
"I can understand," said Raymond, removing his helmet and dropping it to the ground. He leant on a wall and took a deep breath. "In two days we have done the impossible."
"And this day is over," said Tancred in his big Norman voice, looking up at the darkening sky, its features obscured by the glow of the fires burning brightly below. "There's nothing more we can do."
"I think Tancred is right," said Godefroy. "We have spent two days undergoing these tribulations in the eyes of our Lord — and behold! He has willed the city into our hands."
"Your hands," added Tancred. "He's willed it into your hands."
Godefroy looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"He's right," said Raymond. "Have you no recollection? Was it not your contingent that first overtook the Wall?"
"Have you forgotten how you led the storming of the Gate of Herod?" added Tancred.
"And wasn't it you who first fell to your knees in prayer there at the Aedicule of our Lord?"
Godefroy felt a twinge of guilt at their last assertion. "My friends, were you not as exhausted as I was in that moment?"
"Be not modest," said Raymond. He picked his helmet back up and placed a hand on Godefroy's shoulder.
"If God had not willed you to lead us in kneeling at the Aedicule," said Tancred, "then it wouldn't have happened as such."
"I suppose you're right," said Godefroy, not one to argue with divine will.
"You needn't suppose," asserted Raymond. "We have all witnessed that it was Godefroy de Bouillon, Son of Eustache de Boulogne, who took the city of Jerusalem out of the hands of the Saracen."
"My friends," said Godefroy, holding up his hand. "Please — I am exhausted. Let us rest this night and assemble a council in the morning."
"We must decide who is King," said Raymond.
"Can it not be done in the morning as well if not better than at night?" said Godefroy.
"Indeed it could," said Raymond, "but I think we already know whom we intend to nominate to that end." With that, Raymond turned and walked back to the mass of knights at the Aedicule. Tancred hesitated a moment, opening his mouth as though he had something to say, but decided against it and followed Raymond.
Do they mean me? thought Godefroy to himself. He didn't know. He was tired.
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Saturday, 16 July 1099 AD
Jerusalem — Mid-Morning
It was hot. Godefroy arose from his cot and opened the flap of his tent to reveal the bright sun already high above his head. He shielded his eyes as it flooded the tent with light and stumbled back into the darkness a bit before regaining his footing. Outside of his tent, the courtyard of the Dome of the Rock was abustle with activity, as the triumphant Crusaders arose from their long sought sleep.
"Morning, my liege," said Godefroy's squire Hugues, busily beating the blown-out rings of Godefroy's mail back into shape.
"Morning," said Godefroy, rubbing the whiskers which had come in over the days of the assault. He stepped over to a small bench whereupon sat a basin of clear, cool water. With cupped hands he dipped into the water and splashed it liberally upon his face, wetting his hair and rubbing his hands clean. He looked over at the Al-Aqsa mosque to see Raymond of Tolouse and Tancred de Hauteville's heralds at the entrance, along with those of Robert of Normandy and Robert of Flanders. "Have they already called a parliament?"
"They won't begin without you, my liege," said Hugues. "They've insisted you preside over it, so they're waiting to begin — but there's no rush."
"Who else is there?" asked Godefroy.
"Arnulf de Chocques is there, as is the Grandmaster of the Hospitallers."
"Fantastic," sighed Godefroy, unenthused. "Let's begin this, then." He took a deep breath and ambled to the entrance of the Al-Aqsa Mosque. Inside, a confederation of disparate crusaders from throughout western Europe spoke to one another in clumsy Latin. They fell silent as Godefroy approached.
"Welcome, my friend," said the big Norman, Tancred de Hauteville. "We've awaited your arrival."
"Very kind of you," said Godefroy. He glanced around the room to see familiar faces — Robert the Norman, Robert the Flemish, Grandmaster Géraud of the Hospitallers, Geldemar Carpenel, Raymond of Toulouse, and others.
"It should come as no surprise to you that we've elected you to preside this parliament," said Raymond, nodding towards Godefroy.
"It sincerely does," said Godefroy with little intonation. "But I won't refuse."
"Very well then," said Raymond, turning back to the room. "We're free to begin."
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