The Sword Brothers (42 page)

He ordered his men to
goad the Livs who faced their front and rear. They dropped their
leggings to reveal their genitals and bent over to show the enemy
their arses, calling them women and cowards who were unfit to carry
weapons. Thalibald took the bait and ordered his men to break the
enemy shield wall. He had seen his king issuing forth from the fort
and knew that he was on the other side of the Oeselian formation.
And so he raised his sword and ran at the shield wall flanked by
his two sons. On the other side of the Oeselian shield wall Caupo
also led his men forward. There was a horrible grinding sound as
the Livs smashed into Eric’s men and a huge mêlée ensued.

Sir Helmold and his
sons had wanted to pursue the fleeing Estonians as they mounted
their ponies and rode north through the forests that surrounded
Treiden. But Grand Master Volquin asked him to remain on the field
of battle, stating that the victory was only half won. He did,
however, dispatch half his mounted sergeants to harry Lembit’s men,
around four hundred of whom already lay dead among the long grass.
He told them to kill as many as they could catch but to retreat if
the enemy launched any counterattacks.

‘Lembit escapes our
clutches,’ said Sir Helmold bitterly, his helmet in his hand and
his sword sheathed. None of his sons had been hurt in the fight
with the Estonians and now they wanted to go after the rest of the
fleeing enemy.

‘It would be shameful
to abandon our friend and ally who needs our help,’ Grand Master
Volquin admonished them. ‘God will ensure that Lembit is smitten by
our swords, though perhaps not today.’

Sir Helmold gestured
with his hand for his sons to hold their tongues as Theodoric,
Master Berthold and Rudolf rode to the grand master’s side.

‘Losses?’ inquired
Volquin.

‘Five dead, seven
wounded, grand master,’ answered Berthold.

Volquin crossed
himself.

‘Thus do they become
martyrs and enter the house of the Lord,’ said Theodoric.

The others likewise
crossed themselves.

‘Time to rid the land
of the Oeselian pestilence,’ said Rudolf savagely, placing his
helmet back on his head.

‘As you say brother,’
said Volquin.

He still carried the
order’s banner that now formed a rallying point as once more the
knights formed into line with the squires and sergeants behind
them. They trotted forward towards the slaughter that was taking
place immediately west of the settlement.

*****

Eric’s men were tiring
now. They had been standing in their ranks for over two hours in
the spring heat, hacking at their enemies and forcing them back.
Because his men were all well armed and armoured those in the front
ranks could be replaced by fresher men standing behind them, but
now they were fighting on two sides of the shield wall this was not
possible. And on their right flank the Christian crossbows were
exacting a steady toll on the Oeselians. Thalibald’s Livs were also
tired and so the fighting on that side of the shield wall
degenerated into a desultory, haphazard series of duels between
small groups of warriors, who dashed forward, exchanged a few blows
and then retreated back to their lines. On the other side of the
formation, however, Caupo and his men were fighting with frenzy to
exact revenge for their fallen wives and comrades.

‘We must leave,’ said
a panting Magnus to Eric, his mail shirt now ripped at the right
shoulder and left breast. ‘The crusader horsemen are
approaching.’

Eric looked north to
see the white surcoats and shields of the Sword Brothers, the sun
flashing off helmets. He was loath to flee like the coward Lembit
but what Magnus said made sense.

‘Back to the boats,
then,’ he said through gritted teeth.

Magnus shouted the
order and the signallers blew their horns and as one the Oeselians
began moving towards the river. Those who still held javelins threw
them at the Livs before withdrawing. Thalibald’s battered and
bleeding warriors did not give chase so exhausted were they.
Instead they rested their shields on the ground and leaned on them.
They were all possessed of a raging thirst but were glad to be
alive.

Caupo’s men followed
the Oeselians as they fell back to the riverbank where their boats
sat on the sand. They had suffered many casualties during the
fighting, though, and so stood off as the invaders retained their
formation and shuffled backwards. Volquin forbade his foot soldiers
from pursuing the Oeselians, instead ordering them and his horseman
back to the pontoon bridge they had used earlier.

‘I do not understand,’
said Sir Helmold.

‘If you will indulge
me in this matter, my lord,’ said Volquin, his words muffled by his
helmet, ‘we may yet reap a rich harvest.’

His spearmen, having
taken no part in the fighting, were relatively fresh and so they
were able to trot back to the track that led to the river, the
crossbowmen following. The latter, having begun the fighting with
four full quivers per man, were each down to their last twenty
quarrels.

Grand Master Volquin
rode with Sir Helmold, Berthold, Bertram, Rudolf and Henke to pay
his compliments to Thalibald who had played a pivotal role in the
battle.

‘Your king and I owe
you a debt of gratitude, lord,’ said Volquin, who had now taken off
his helmet and offered his hand to the Liv chief.

Thalibald took his
hand. ‘It has been an honour, grand master.’

Rudolf nodded at a
weary Rameke standing at his father’s side. ‘You are a great
warrior, Rameke. You too, Waribule.’

Rameke beamed with
pride and Waribule raised his sword as Thalibald gave the order to
his men to form ranks once more.

‘My king has need of
me,’ he said to Volquin, raising his arm in salute and walking off
to where Caupo was shepherding the Oeselians to the river.

*****

Only thirteen boats
pushed off into the Gauja, though many were crammed full of
warriors. The fact was, though, that the Oeselians had suffered a
substantial number of casualties, especially at the hands of the
crossbowmen as well as during the fighting with the Livs. The most
savage combat had taken place just off the beach where the boats
had been berthed. It was there that the rearguard had bought time
for the vessels to be loaded and cast off, at a cost of their
lives. Eric stood on the prow of the leading boat with a bleeding
Magnus beside him as the oarsmen began powering the vessel
downriver.

‘I am going to kill
that bastard Lembit,’ he vowed, ‘and slaughter his people.’

The boats were in
midstream now, their tired crews pulling slowly on their oars to
take them away from the Liv warriors who now lined the riverbank.
Eric’s boat rounded a bend in the river to leave Treiden behind and
the chief heard his deputy curse under his breath. He looked ahead
and saw a bridge of boats barring his escape, and on that bridge
stood dozens of enemy soldiers.

*****

Grand Master Volquin
had ordered all the horses be taken across the river, to be
tethered on the southern bank, while his brother knights and
sergeants took up position on the bridge. Sir Helmold stood beside
him with his sword drawn, waiting for the Oeselian boats. His sons,
fellow Saxon knights and squires stood beside him, shouting insults
at the approaching pagans and urging them to row faster so that
they might meet their deaths quicker. The Sword Brothers stood in
stoic silence as they awaited the enemy.

‘Will they attack?’
asked Sir Helmold.

‘They have no choice,’
said Volquin, ‘they have nowhere to go.’

The crossbowmen ran
from the northern end of the pontoon bridge and formed a line in
front of the knights, loading their weapons as the boats got
nearer. The Oeselians had slowed their speed when they had spotted
the impediment that barred their way, forming into line as crossbow
bolts hissed across the water to hit the boats and their crews. The
latter frantically pulled in their oars so that more boats could be
brought into the Oeselian battle line, for the river was narrow at
this point and only nine boats could be accommodated side by side
in the water at this spot.

‘Ready!’ shouted
Volquin as the boats drifted on the current towards the bridge.

The knights stopped
their shouting and closed ranks, the spearmen on their flanks
levelling their lances and the crossbowmen loosing one final volley
as the riverboats nudged the pontoon bridge and the Oeselians
leaped from their vessels.

Rudolf hamstrung the
first warrior who lunged at him with a downward cut of his sword,
then used his shield to force him backwards into his companions
following. Henke fought on the left side of his friend, thrusting
his sword forward in lightning-fast movements aimed at enemy faces
and necks. His strikes were controlled, carefully aimed and
designed to kill immediately. Rudolf was a master with a sword
whereas to Henke a sword was just another tool to kill opponents
quickly.

The crusaders stood
firm on the bridge, killing or wounding the Oeselians as they tried
to force their way onto the planks. The initial attack of the river
raiders was fierce and desperate but its energy was soon spent as
its force broke against an unyielding crusader wall of iron and
steel. Magnus, already wounded, fell in the first rush when Sir
Helmold drove the point of his sword through his neck. Eric killed
two Sword Brothers with his sword and stood triumphant on the
bridge, only to be struck in the back by two crossbow bolts shot
from the riverbank. He fell on the planks and his body was
unceremoniously thrown into the water, the mail armour dragging him
down to the riverbed. The death of their leader extinguished the
last vestiges of fight within the Oeselians and those still alive
threw down their weapons and submitted to the mercy of the Sword
Brothers.

Afterwards Theodoric
gathered the knights and Sword Brothers at Segewold and gave a
service of thanksgiving for the great victory over the pagans.
Caupo came to the castle the next day in the company of Thalibald
and his sons. He had made Rameke’s father his chief warlord, a
great honour that elevated Thalibald to the second-most important
Liv in the kingdom. His new position had been bought at high cost,
though, with two hundred Livs being killed in the battle and a
further fifty injured. Both Rameke and Waribule were unhurt, for
which their father gave thanks to God.

He was kneeling in
silence before the altar in the small chapel at Segewold – thus far
the only stone building in the stronghold – when Sir Helmold
entered. The knight was dressed in his mail armour and white
surcoat emblazoned with a red cross but wore nothing on his head.
Thalibald stood up when he heard footsteps. Sir Helmold looked at
the great beard and long hair of the chief, so different from his
own neatly cropped beard and short hair. A few days ago he looked
down on these former heathens and their strange dress and language.
But he had seen how Grand Master Volquin and the other Sword
Brothers treated this Thalibald and his king as equals and trusted
allies. He had also seen them fight side by side in the recent
battle. It was most odd, though perhaps no stranger than the course
that his own life had taken.

‘I did not mean to
disturb you,’ he said to Thalibald. ‘I will leave if you wish.’

‘There is no need for
that, lord. But you are welcome to join me in prayer.’

Sir Helmold hesitated.
He was used to praying in his own castle chapel when he could be
bothered, alone and certainly not in the company of a foreigner.
And yet…

Thalibald saw the
reluctance in his eyes and smiled. He knew that many of the
crusaders who came from Germany looked down on his people and
secretly despised them. A few made it plain that they came to rid
Livonia of all natives, regardless of whether they followed Christ
or not. Others came just to kill and plunder and were not averse to
slaughtering Livs if the opportunity arose.

‘I will leave, lord,’
Thalibald said, ‘so that you may pray in peace.’

At that moment Sir
Helmold thought of his wife, a poor Cistercian monk in sandals and
his former life. ‘No. No, not at all. It is I who have disturbed
you and will leave so that you may finish your prayers.’

‘Perhaps we might pray
together,’ suggested Thalibald, ‘just as we fought together.’

Sir Helmold smiled.
‘That would be most agreeable.’

In the days afterwards
the sergeants who had been detailed to pursue the Estonians
returned with news that Lembit had escaped their clutches. The
garrisons of Wenden and Holm returned to their castles, the men of
the latter taking the German vassals who had been recruited from
Riga back with them. Caupo ordered the rebuilding of his settlement
and while the master of Kremon, whose besiegers had also fled
north, rode to Segewold to pay his respects to Grand Master
Volquin. The dead Sword Brothers were buried in the cemetery at
Segewold and the enemy slain were cremated on great pyres that
burned fiercely in the meadow where the battle had been fought.
Another pyre was built below the ramparts of Segewold where the
prisoners were assembled to hear their fate.

Sir Helmold stood
beside Thalibald as Grand Master Volquin informed the Oeselians,
their hands tied behind their backs, bare footed, bare chested and
their heads bowed, that they had a simple choice: receive baptism
into the Holy Church or be consigned to the fires. It was a
beautiful sunny day and the brother knights and crusader knights
sweated in their mail armour as they stood in a long line in front
of the prisoners, the sergeants forming two lines either side of
the captives and the pyre, the Livs from Treiden standing behind
the sergeants. Their king stood between Volquin and Theodoric,
Caupo impassive as priests went among the Oeselians, calling for
those who wished to serve God to step forward so they could be
taken to the river to be baptised. About fifty did so, being spat
on by their comrades and jeered at for their cowardice. These men
were led away under armed guard, the priests singing hymns as they
walked at the head of the column of half-naked men.