But because it seems to me that I shall not have another chance to report what happened to the Pyrrus whom I mentioned earlier, I should do it now. Having received the sacraments, he accepted Christianity, taking, as his baptismal name, Bohemund. He helped us out at the siege of Jerusalem, and, when it was captured, returned to Antioch. There he sent out a messenger to announce that any Christian in the city or in the vicinity of the city might come with him to a far-off land, where he had considerable land, and he offered to make everyone rich. He inspired a large group of people with this hope, and he is said to have led this deceived group off to what he called his own land. When he had reached his own encampments, he betrayed some of the knights who had accompanied him by killing them, and he exiled others. Had word of the betrayal not reached the others, who were lodged outside of the encampment because of their great numbers, and who therefore managed to hide or to escape wretchedly, the freedom of all of them would have perished by the sword or in slavery. There Pyrrus deserted Christianity and returned to the filth of his old lechery and paganism. Nor was this unfitting, for the name Pyrrus in Greek is Rufus[187] in Latin, and the mark of treachery is branded on red-haired people; he is shown by no means to have been deprived of his lineage. Towards the end of November, Count Raymond of Saint-Gilles moved his army out of Antioch; after passing the cities of Rugia and Albara, on the fourth day, which was the last day of November, he reached the city of Marrah.[188] A large group of Saracens, Turks, and Arabs had come together in that city, and the count prepared to attack with all his forces on the day after he arrived. Bohemund and his army quickly followed the count, and set up his camp next to him on a Sunday. The next day they attacked the walls so vigorously that their ladders clung to the walls, and they stepped on the walls themselves as they went up. The inhabitants resisted with such energy that nothing could be gained by our men that day. Then the count of Saint-Gilles, seeing that his men were toiling in vain, ordered that a very tall, strong wooden fort be built, placed on four wheels, with room at at the top for a large group of soldiers. This armed group then moved the war-machine with great force against the walls of the city, near one of the towers. In response, the inhabitants quickly built a ballistic machine, with which they tried to bombard our fort with huge stones, threatening to destroy both our machine and men. They also hurled Greek fire at the machine, trying to set the scaffolding afire, but God thwarted their plan. The machine stood high over the city wall, and, in the midst of the clash, the sound of trumpets ringing stirred the combatants. Meanwhile, some of our soldiers who were in the upper part of the machine, including William of Montpellier and some others, were hurling huge