He,
with a few strong helpers, had covered his flying troops, and the brave
Emperor Conrad, giant in strength, the greatest swordsman of the world,
was even now fighting at the hindmost rear of the army to save whom he
could.
It had been madness, he told them all, to try the mountain ways. To
Palestine there were two roads, and they might choose between them,
either following the long coast round Asia Minor to the Gulf of Cyprus,
or else, going down to the Propontis, they might get ships from
Constantinople and sail to the ports of Syria. The short way was death,
and though death were nothing, it meant failure and destruction to the
Christian power in Jerusalem and Antioch.
Thus he spoke, and the King and Queen and all the great nobles heard
him in silence. There were the great Counts of Flanders and Toulouse,
of Savoy, of Montferrat and Dreux and Blois, and the lords of Lusignan,
of Coucy, of Courtenay, and of Bourbon, and the Bishops of Toul and
Metz, and all the great knights of Gascony and Poitou, with many others
of high name and good blood, who heard the red-bearded Duke speak. But
when he had finished, none answered him, and the French King sat on his
throne, repeating the prayers for the dead in a low voice. But
Eleanor's eyes flashed fire and her gloved hand strained impatiently
upon the carved arm of the chair of state.
"Requiem eternam dona eis," muttered the King.
"Amen!" responded Eleanor, in a clear, contemptuous voice. "And now
that prayers are over, let us do deeds.
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