The Sword Brothers (49 page)

Stefan looked alarmed.
‘Is there nothing to be done?’

Vsevolod held up his
hands. ‘Fear not. The grand duke is prepared to enter into a formal
truce with the bishop.’

Relief swept through
Stefan. ‘Excellent.’

Vsevolod held up one
hand. ‘
If
he is allowed to cross the Dvina to make war upon
Novgorod.’

‘The bishop would not
tolerate a Lithuanian army marching through his territory,’ said
Stefan glumly.

‘He has nothing to
fear on that matter, archdeacon. The grand duke would cross at
Gerzika and march through my own territory. His concern is that if
he did so then the crusaders would ambush him during his return
journey.’

Stefan toyed with the
gold cross hanging around his neck. ‘And the grand duke has no
designs on the bishop’s lands?’

‘None at all. The
assault against Kokenhusen was carried out by a troublesome chief
name Stecse and was done so without the grand duke’s knowledge. As
soon as I heard I marched my army to its relief so outraged was
I.’

Stefan toasted him.
‘The bishop is most grateful that he has such a brave and loyal
ally.’

Vsevolod leaned
forward. ‘If I can have an official document stating that the
bishop has no objection to my father-in-law crossing the Dvina to
make war against Novgorod, then I can guarantee that your southern
border will be peaceful and secure.’

Vsevolod knew that he
had cornered his prey. Now it was time to snare it.

‘As a sign of his
goodwill, the grand duke is also prepared to send an expedition
against the Kurs. He knows that they have proved troublesome to the
bishop.’

Stefan brought his
hands together. ‘I think I can say that the bishop will find these
terms acceptable.’

‘And I can tell the
grand duke that when he returns he will draw up a document that
will give his assent?’

Stefan leaned back in
his well-appointed chair. ‘You will be able to take said document
with you tomorrow if you wish. I am the bishop’s deputy and have
been entrusted with his seal.’

This was better than
Vsevolod could have hoped for. ‘Then I can say with certainty, my
lord archdeacon, that you have achieved not only peace along the
Dvina but also gained a new ally in Grand Duke Daugerutis.’

Vsevolod left the next
afternoon, in his hand a vellum document bearing the seal of Riga
giving his father-in-law permission to cross the Dvina to attack
Novgorod. It stipulated that the Lithuanians were to agree to a
two-year peace with the bishop, in return for which the Kurs were
to be punished by Grand Duke Daugerutis.

It had been a most
profitable journey. His new found friendship with Archdeacon Stefan
meant he had influence with the Bishop of Riga, which also meant
that he had leverage over his father-in-law. More importantly, if
the Lithuanians attacked Novgorod then his powerful Russian
northern neighbour might be weakened, allowing him to seize some of
their territory. If God really looked on him favourably then the
grand duke might even be killed fighting the Novgorodians,
resulting in him gaining substantial territory to the south of the
Dvina when his wife gained her inheritance. A most profitable
journey indeed.

*****

Christmas at Wenden
was a joyous affair. Thalibald and his family were invited to
celebrate the birth of Christ at the castle. The beautiful Daina
wrapped in furs arrived in a horse-drawn sledge. After a moving
service in a packed chapel, the Sword Brothers gave a great feast
in the dining hall at which the brother knights, sergeants and
Conrad and the other boys served the civilian families their
Christmas meal of cooked goose. The mercenaries manned the
ramparts, Master Berthold having promised them double pay for doing
so.

Thalibald and his
family sat on the top table in the dining hall, Master Berthold and
Rudolf serving them their food. Conrad had begged Rudolf to be
allowed to help him serve at the top table and he had assented. He
thus became Daina’s personal servant, hovering over her like a
mother hen as she ate her meal, giggled with her mother and smiled
at Conrad. He brought a jug of hot wassail, a strong drink that was
a mixture of ale, honey and spices, her cheeks becoming flushed as
the alcohol took effect.

Usually the dining
hall was quiet when the brother knights and sergeants ate their
meals but today it was turmoil as families chatted loudly and
children squealed in delight as they were served with hot mince
pies filled with shredded meat.

Conrad placed one
before Daina, who looked up at him with sparkling green eyes.

‘What is this?’

‘It is a mince pie,’
said Conrad. ‘They are filled with meat and cooked in oblong trays
to represent Christ’s crib. The meat is spiced with cinnamon,
cloves and nutmeg to represent the three gifts given to Christ by
the Magi. The Magi are…’

‘The three kings from
the East who came to pay homage to Christ after his birth. Yes, I
know,’ replied Daina.

She turned up her nose
at the boar’s head that was served to her father by Master Berthold
but otherwise had a delightful time and was enchanted by Conrad’s
attentiveness.

In the kitchens the
boys took sips from the cauldrons where the cooks were preparing
the wassail, and after a while all of them were quite merry. Conrad
stood in the door that led to the kitchens, admiring Daina from
afar.

‘Are you glad you came
to Livonia, Conrad?’ asked Rudolf behind him.

‘Yes, Brother Rudolf,’
beamed Conrad.

‘I believe that God
brought you here for a purpose, Conrad, though it might not be the
one you currently believe it to be.’

‘Yes, Brother Rudolf,’
the boy replied.

Rudolf shook his head
and took the tray of cups he was holding into the hall. Conrad was
not listening. He was dreaming of the life he would have with
Daina, the chief’s daughter whom he was falling in love with. He
imagined them living together in between his time when he was
fighting the foes of the Sword Brothers. In his boyish innocence he
imagined that he could have both Daina and wear the white mantle of
the order. He did not realise that wanting and having were too
entirely different things. But for the moment he stared and dreamed
of things that might be.

‘Conrad Wolff, get
your lazy arse here,’ shouted one of the cooks, a man who looked
like an ogre and had a temper to match. Conrad smiled, turned and
went back into the kitchens to continue his duties as a serving
boy.

Three weeks later he
was sitting on a pony in the company of the other boys, ten brother
knights, thirty sergeants and a dozen mounted crossbowmen,
including leather face. Conrad and his companions wore their
gambesons, kettle helmets and were fully armed with lances, swords
and daggers, their shields slung over their backs. The latter were
painted white but did not bear the insignia of the Sword Brothers,
as they were not yet members of the order. They also wore white
cloaks around their shoulders and mittens on their hands for it was
bitterly cold. There was no wind and the sun in the cloudless sky
made the snow-covered terrain around the castle dazzlingly white,
forcing Conrad to squint in the brightness when he peered between
the gaps in the still-low-lying walls at the landscape beyond.

They stood in the
courtyard waiting for Rudolf to emerge from the master’s hall to
lead them on their expedition, though no one knew precisely what is
was. The week before a large force of crusaders had passed through
Wenden on its way north into Estonia. They took with them no siege
engines and carried supplies on packhorses. Master Thaddeus had
told the boys that they were going solely to pillage and burn in
retaliation for the previous year’s raids by Lembit’s forces, as
well as his attack against Caupo. The latter had also appeared at
Wenden, stopping only a day before similarly marching north with a
horde of his warriors, including Thalibald and his men. Conrad was
relieved to learn that Rameke had stayed behind with a contingent
of warriors to guard the villages and womenfolk. Thus would Daina
be out of harm’s way. But he was confused as to why the garrison of
Wenden had not gone north with the crusaders and Sword Brothers
from other castles.

‘Perhaps we are not
going north,’ opined Hans sitting on the pony beside him.

‘Then where are we
going?’ said Conrad.

‘Across the river,’
said Anton with conviction, not really knowing what lay in that
direction.

Henke turned in his
saddle. ‘Quiet. Your incessant gossiping is getting on my
nerves.’

‘We were just
wondering where we are going, Brother Henke?’ said Johann.

‘You will know when we
arrive,’ snapped Henke. ‘Now be silent.’

‘Definitely over the
river,’ said Anton in a hushed voice.

Each of them held the
reins of a pony loaded with supplies for the journey, as did the
sergeants – tents, food, spare clothing, medical supplies, crossbow
bolts, spare lances and shields. Conrad began to feel his nose get
cold as he sat in the saddle, his breath misting and his pony
snorting in boredom. Eventually Master Berthold walked from his
hall into the courtyard in the company of Rudolf and a man Conrad
had never seen before. He was dressed in furs with a felt hat
pulled down over his face to obscure his features. All three walked
to their ponies and took to their saddles, then trotted over the
cobbles to where the gatehouse would eventually stand, across the
bridge and down into the compound. The brother knights followed
them, after which came the sergeants, crossbowmen and Conrad and
his companions.

The column rode out
the gates in the perimeter wall and swung left to ride east towards
the snow-covered quarry that was now dormant until the spring came.
They trotted along the track until they had ridden halfway through
a forest of pine and spruce, then left the trail to head into the
trees, all the while being led by the mysterious stranger swathed
in furs. No one spoke, the only sound being the breathing of the
ponies, the crunching of their hooves in the snow and the jangling
of their bits. Of the brother knights, Lukas had stayed behind at
Wenden to assume command of the garrison. Walter also remained at
the castle, Conrad hearing a rumour that he would not approve of
the expedition, though he did not know what this meant.

For two days they
travelled through forests, by the side of frozen lakes and across
snow-covered meadows between gently rolling hills, the guide
leading the column through a land empty of people. Wolves snarled
at them from the treeline and occasionally a lynx or fox would be
seen scurrying through the deep snow. At night Master Berthold and
Rudolf could be seen huddling round a fire in the company of the
guide, who had shoulder-length fair hair and wore a gold torc
around his neck. Conrad asked about him but Henke gave him short
shrift, telling him to attend to his duties and keep his nose out
of the order’s business. So he and the other boys sat outside their
tent guessing who the man was and what they were doing in this
bleak land.

‘Perhaps we are going
to kill Lembit,’ offered Anton.

‘We are too few to
fight the leader of the Estonians,’ said Conrad.

‘What did Henke say
when you asked him?’ queried Hans.

‘He’s like a bear with
a sore head. You won’t get anything out of him.’

‘This must be a raid
of some sort,’ suggested Johann, though when questioned about the
precise nature of such an enterprise he had no answers.

They found out the
next day when they were ordered to leave the tents where they were
and assemble in the middle of the camp. The brother knights,
sergeants and crossbowmen also gathered around Master Berthold,
Rudolf and the mysterious stranger standing behind him.

‘I will make this
short,’ said the castellan of Wenden. ‘Today we assault an Estonian
village. Our intention is to take prisoners: women, girls and young
boys. Kill all those capable of bearing arms but do not harm the
rest.’ He pointed at the crossbowmen, some of whom were rubbing
their hands in anticipation of loot. ‘Any plunder of value will be
surrendered to me after the assault. Anyone who indulges in rape
will be hanged.’

Leather face wore a
hurt expression. ‘No rape?’

Berthold looked at him
contemptuously. ‘The women, young girls, infants and young boys are
to be captured unharmed and unsullied. I will personally behead
anyone I see acting in a depraved manner.’

‘What about the old
women?’ asked leather face.

Master Berthold looked
at him as though he was attempting levity. ‘The old women?’

‘Yes,’ replied leather
face, deadly serious, ‘can we rape them as you don’t want
them?’

There was a ripple of
laughter among his comrades.

‘Silence!’ shouted
Berthold. ‘There will be no raping. Obey your orders and pray to
God that He may forgive you for your depravity.’

‘Pray that He keeps my
aim true, more like,’ sneered leather face.

Master Berthold
glowered at him but thereafter ignored him as he gave the orders
for the raid. The mounted brother knights were to attack the
village, which was an hour’s walk away, to create a diversion while
the sergeants and crossbowmen would assault on foot.

‘Brother Henke will
take charge of the novices,’ said Master Berthold in
conclusion.

Though they knew how
to shoot a crossbow Conrad and his companions were armed with their
swords and shields for the raid. They left their cloaks in camp as
they walked with Henke in the rear of the column of sergeants and
crossbowmen. The packhorses and ponies in camp were tethered to
branches with several fires having been lit around its perimeter to
keep predators away, two crossbowmen being left behind just to make
sure.