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reason, food was being brought in from far and wide, much of it by those who had previously supplied the Crusade, given that to even show reluctance – and most would have preferred Kerbogha gone – was enough to bring on his murderous wrath.
    The Atabeg set up his main camp a whole league away from the northern walls, this being a disposition all of the Crusade leaders struggled to comprehend when success surely depended on pressing the siege close. Not that such a distance allowed them much freedom of movement; to cross the short distance from the Bridge Gate to La Mahomerie siege fort still required careful observation, and that was ten times more hazardous when sending men to the port of St Simeon, where some ships, unaware of the changed circumstances in Antioch, continued to arrive.
    Most of their cargoes ended up stacked on shore for the lack of the means to get them safely to the city. Before either excursion could be attempted it was necessary to see what forces of the enemy were close by enough to interfere, while those holding La Mahomerie were in nodoubt that an attack would soon be launched in enough strength to take it from them and cut the route to the coast completely.
    High up behind the city the men Tancred had set to constructing a wall toiled away in the tremendous daytime heat, the means to build supplied by an endless stream of reluctant and dragooned citizens, often bearing up the steep hill the stones of their own destroyed dwellings, churches and mosques having been left alone for fear of disturbance.
    Running across the face of the hillside all the way to the point where it adjoined the outer curtain wall, there was no mortar to fix the pieces in place; it was drystone at best and flimsy because of that, so much so that, even with buttresses, it might well collapse from the weight of attackers pushing against it.
    If days went by without activity, they did not pass without increasing anxiety. Despite strict control of the food supply and a diet ill-equipped to feed the fighting men – the pilgrims and citizens were left to fend for themselves – the storerooms were emptying at a rate that indicated they would struggle to hold out for weeks.
    A month, without relief, was impossible, so much time was spent with an eye to the northern horizon for some sight of the armies of Byzantium, though messages getting through – smugglers by trade knew how to circumvent any restrictions by either cunning or bribery – brought no news of any such prospect, which left the besieged nothing to do but wait; all the dice were in the hands of the Turks.
     
    The expected attack of La Mahomerie came first, a furious assault that those not in the siege fort could only watch helplessly from the battlements. The Turks surged around, probing hard and sometimesseeming about to overwhelm the defence. With a courage born of desperation the men led by Robert of Flanders somehow managed to drive them back till the pile of bodies on the perimeter rose to make it increasingly hard for those following to exchange blows and inflict injury.
    If the first day was difficult it did not ease in those that followed. Overnight the Turks came to remove their dead and as soon as the light was strong enough the attack was renewed with the same ferocity. It was inevitable that Robert’s men, however stalwart they were, must suffer wounds and losses, added to which the sheer physical effort of maintaining the fight without any chance of being reinforced was debilitating in itself.
    That he held out for four days was a feat of brilliance but unsupported it could not go on. As darkness fell on the fourth night, having once more been in combat all day, Robert dipped his banner three times, the signal that he was about to abandon the siege fort and retire through the Bridge Gate. A strong body of Provençal knights had to stand by to provide assistance and they waited until the Turks came for the bodies of their freshly fallen comrades, who by