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millions of subjects and, William knew from Sicily, a bottomless treasury. So word must go out from him to other Norman bands in South Italy, enticing them with the possibility of rich rewards. Then there was the man he would face!
    Byzantium had different types of commanders, and they ranged from the very good to the utterly useless, the quality and the person depending entirely on intrigue at court. The armies they fielded away from their constantly threatened eastern possessions tended to be bought-and-paid-for fighters, or unwilling milities raised locally. The latter could be a weakness, sometimes more trouble than they were worth, but no army could fight without foot soldiers of somekind, and Arduin would have to raise those. It was necessary they should come to the banner willingly, for the catapan would be obliged to conscript his.
    Would Arduin have a force of crossbowmen? If not, they must be recruited, for they were an essential tool against any army in a strong defensive position, and William reckoned, if Byzantium was presently weak in the Catapanate, then a wise general would force the people he saw as rebels to attack him rather than seek open battle with an enemy strong in cavalry. Finally, nothing could be complete without the reduction of the Adriatic ports, that is, if they failed to support the revolt or were held by the catapan; that might mean siege equipment and artisans to construct them on site, weapons of which the Normans knew nothing. He was still ruminating on such problems when he looked up to see Arduin standing behind his shoulder.
    ‘Rainulf has agreed that you should lead his men into Apulia.’
    ‘Was it ever in any doubt?’ William enquired, looking towards Rainulf, who avoided his eye. Turning back to Arduin, he could see, as much as the Lombard tried to hide it, that had indeed been the case.
    ‘I hope you are willing to serve under me?’
    ‘I am,’ William replied, seeking to control the anger in his voice, lest Arduin think it directed at him. ‘As are my brothers.’
    ‘All of them?’ When William nodded, Arduin laida hand on his shoulder and said, ‘Good! I have asked Prince Guaimar to meet with us tomorrow, to discuss the campaign.’
    ‘I look forward to it.’
    That was when the fighting started, round that bonfire; the combination of food, drink and women had worked its usual magic on the many present rivalries to produce a brawl. Normans who had been to Sicily would take a swing at those who had not, added to Italian peasants who resented the mercenaries long before they sought to interfere with their womenfolk. Drogo would be in there somewhere; he always was when there was trouble. There was a time when William would have gone in to seek to cool things down and to ensure Drogo, and for that matter his other siblings, did not suffer from trying to take on too many opponents.
    He was not inclined to on this night, which made him wonder if perhaps he was getting old. Turning away from that to glare at Rainulf he saw Berengara leaning forward, watching the fracas with deep concentration. She looked stunning, but it was her evident pleasure, and the flush of blood in her cheeks, picked up by the torches, that was most evident. Was it caused merely by the fighting, or the thought that some Normans might be getting what, in her mind, they deserved?
    * * *
    There was a certain amount of amusement to be gained from observing the way Prince Guaimar sought to exercise control over the direction of what was proposed while at the same time he made it perfectly plain that Salerno and Capua were detached in terms of interest in the outcome, clearly trying to have the best of both worlds. Watching the other faces was also instructive: Arduin disappointed but resigned that he would not have Guaimar’s complete support – Salerno would provide no foot soldiers, in fact nothing but sustenance on the route, and that would be paid for; Rainulf, obviously suffering from a night of