Their faces were broad, with thick lips and large noses; their eyes wide-set, but small beneath heavy brows. Alexius could not imagine any woman finding such horse-like features attractive. Worst of all, they wore their hair long-like maidens' hair-and like that of young women, it hung loosely about their necks in desultory curls; curiously, however, except for the occasional broad moustache, they kept themselves clean-shaven. The combination of long hair and smooth chins and jowls appeared odd to the Byzantine eye; it struck Alexius as somewhat obscene-as if the foreigners perversely insisted on covering that which should be revealed, and revealing that which should be covered.

Their garments were coarse and heavy, sombre coloured. Most wore an outer coat over a knee-length tunic cinched at the waist by a wide leather belt from which hung their knives. Some few, he noticed, did possess an outer cloak of better fabric, sewn with bright squares or stripes of contrasting colours-red and green, yellow and blue, black and white. But, whether cloak or mantle, tunic, or leggings, all were made for a clime much colder and more changeable than that to which they had come, and, God help them, far colder still than that to which they were going.

Their feet were covered with tall leather boots, or shoes of the old Roman style with tough soles and thick uppers which laced up the leg with stout leather thongs. In this, at least, they showed a little wisdom; the ground of the Holy Land was rough and arid, more rock than soil, and a soldier who could not walk or run could not fight. Too many good men died because their shoes could not take the strain of the march, let alone the fight, Alexius reflected; the emperor set great store by a soldier's footwear.

In manner, the westerners were much as he expected: haughty, insolent, and rude. They swaggered insufferably as they walked, hailing one another with uncouth gestures, their talk broken by coarse and raucous laughter. Loud in speech, brash in action, they were, in a word, crude; on the whole, they behaved as if they had neither a grain of civility in their souls, nor a redeeming thought in their heads. They were uninvited guests in a land far from home; for the love of Christ, did that mean nothing to them?

The arrogance and ambition of their leaders might be expected, but the casual cruelty of the average fighting man was definitely a startling and nasty surprise. Alexius saw in it the ugly shape of a malignant wickedness-a vile sinfulness which proceeded from a core of hate and ignorance and greed.

Having seen enough, the emperor turned away in disgust and hastened back to the palace to call his advisors and prepare for the battle to come. By the time he slipped once again through the hidden gate, Alexius had devised the first strike. It would come, he decided, in the form of a gift-or, better still, many gifts-the more gaudy and expensive the better.

The emperor kept his unruly visitors waiting for nine days, then despatched the Commander of the Imperial Excubitori with a summons. 'The emperor will receive you,' Nicetas informed the brother lords icily. 'Make yourselves ready. An escort will be sent to conduct you to the palace tomorrow morning.'

The next day, Godfrey, Duke of Bouillon, and Baldwin, Prince of Boulogne, each attended by numerous noblemen and vassals, were led into the great reception room of Blachernae Palace. The two lords and their entourage walked in open-mouthed awe of their peerless surroundings. Marble floors of palest green, polished to mirror-brightness, stretched away on every side beneath a gilded ceiling which glimmered overhead like a firmament of gold, supported by a forest of graceful pillars of marble so pure and white they seemed to shine with the radiance of the moon.

Led by the magister officiorum-stately, regal, holding high his ebony rod of authority-the Romans passed through two enormous doors of burnished copper which opened silently on hidden hinges to admit them into a vast cavern of a room possessed of even greater opulence than anything they had yet seen. The rarest blue and green marbles, imported at unthinkable expense from the farthest reaches of the empire, lined the walls and floor, gleaming and radiant in the light from a hundred perfumed wax tapers set in candletrees of gold all around the room.

Before them on a raised dais of expensive porphyry, dressed in his purple robes, wearing a crown of gold inset with rubies and pearls, sat Basileus Alexius Comnenus, Elect of Heaven, Supreme Ruler of All Christendom, God's Vice-Regent on Earth, Equal of the Apostles. If their first glimpse of the most powerful man alive did not impress them, the sight of his throne of solid gold thrilled them to their souls. Nor did they fail to appreciate the formidable presence of the triple ranks of the emperor's Varangian bodyguard, all of them carrying axes and shields of silver, and wearing helms set with lapis lazuli and breastplates sheathed in gold.

Godfrey and Baldwin were astounded, excited, fascinated, and delighted by all they saw. Though they might disregard the man, they could not dismiss his wealth, or the might at his command. In short, they each imagined themselves firmly ensconced in marble palaces, holding court on thrones of gold, and leading ranks of seven-foot tall warriors arrayed in gems and precious metals.

The possibility was so fitting, so unarguably proper to men of their rank and status, that neither lord foresaw any impediment to the early acquisition of this exalted state. Though they might be sojourners in a realm of riches beyond anything they had ever dreamed possible, they were still men of royal birth and therefore rightful heirs to all that kings could desire. Moreover, it was all theirs for the taking.

The magister led the party to the foot of the throne, where he thumped the floor three times with his silver-tipped rod, and announced, 'Bringing before your majesty his servants Godfrey of Bouillon and Baldwin of Boulogne, and their many retainers.'

He then prostrated himself, indicating that the bedazzled worthies should follow his example. Alexius let them lie on the floor for a long moment before he raised a hand and said, 'You may stand.'

The lords obeyed, rising to find themselves under the scrutiny of two keen dark eyes set in a shrewd, calculating face. Godfrey, the senior of the two, spoke first. 'Lord and Emperor,' he said, employing his best Latin, 'we greet you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. May his blessing be upon you. We bring greetings, also, from his Holiness, Pope Urban, who sends his highest regards, and begs the emperor to receive your brothers with felicitous good-will.'

'We accept your greetings,' Alexius replied, 'and stand ready to extend our friendship to you and all those under your command. No doubt,' the emperor observed, 'you have received the gifts which we have sent as a token of the friendship awaiting those who pledge faith with this throne.'

'Indeed, we have, Lord Emperor,' Godfrey replied. 'Our thanks are as boundless as your generosity.'

Alexius inclined his head regally. 'We assume also, that you have received the provisions we have caused to be delivered to your camps for the refreshment of your troops.'

'Again, we are in your debt, my lord,' the duke answered.

'It is a debt easily discharged,' the emperor told him. 'We require but one thing in return.'

'Your majesty has but to name it,' replied Godfrey expansively, 'and it will be accomplished with all speed.'

'We are pleased to hear it.' The emperor lifted his hand and beckoned one of the half-dozen black robed officials forward. The man, in a red cap as flat and square as a mason's board, stepped beside the throne. Bowing from the waist, the Logothete of the Symponus extended a parchment square on his outstretched palms. The emperor took up the document, unfolded it and began to read.