leaders. And, in a way, it was not unjust. They had fought the
battles; they were the ones who had carried out the entire siege,
hauled the engines of war, fired the catapults; to conclude briefly,
I say that they carried, "the burden and heat of the day."[128] On
the day that they left the captured city they reached a bridge in
whose vicinity they remained for two days. On the third day, at the
first feeble glimmerings of dawn, they arose, moved about blindly in
what little light there was, and went down two separate roads,
forming two groups. For two days they marched in two separate
divisions. One contained Bohemund, Robert of Normandy, and Tancred,
together with a large contingent of knights; the Count of
Saint-Gilles, Duke Godfrey, the bishop of Puy, Hugh the Great, and
the count of Flanders were leading the other group through pathless
territory. On the third day, an innumerable, terrible, and nearly
overwhelming mass of Turks suddenly rushed upon Bohemund and his men.
You would have seen them speaking melodramatically about the fear
that they expected our men, frightened at their unexpected attack, to
feel as they shouted their war-like battle-cry in the horrible tones
of their language. Under attack by an immense force, the
extraordinary man was not frightened into acting unwisely, but
immediately ordered everyone to halt, unroll the tents, and establish
camp quickly. Before his orders had been carried out, he addressed
his own knights: "If you keep in mind the expedition that you joined,
having considered why it was necessary, then go forward; attack them
like men, defend your honor and your life, and you, foot soldiers,
pitch the tents carefully." When he had finished, the Turks attacked
suddenly and swiftly, hurling javelins, and fighting in their usual
fashion by fleeing as they fired arrows into the breasts of their
pursuers. Aware of what they had promised, mindful of their vaunted
strength, the Franks clearly understood that they were numerically