The Sword Brothers (5 page)

Rudolf bowed his head
ever so slightly at the judge. ‘To enlist recruits for God’s
crusade against the heathens in Livonia, lord.’

The judge smiled. ‘A
most noble calling, brother, and one that the citizens of this
great city support with all their hearts. For myself I pray daily
that Bishop Albert and the Sword Brothers vanquish their enemies
speedily.’

There were murmurs of
agreement in the hall and the judge smiled at Rudolf once more. ‘As
long as you keep that urchin under control I release him to your
care. And may God smile upon you and your fellow warriors of
Christ.’

Rudolf bowed his head
at the judge and stepped back to stand beside Conrad.

‘Do not speak out
again,’ he hissed, ‘unless you want to be standing beside your
father to receive punishment.’

‘But it is a lie,’
hissed Conrad despairingly, ‘I was there and saw what
happened.’

But Rudolf knew that
children, along with Jews and women, unless they had the consent of
their husbands, were not allowed to testify before a judge.

‘You must trust in
God, Conrad.’

Henke grunted but said
nothing as the advocate related to the court how Dietmar Wolff had
killed his wife in a jealous rage, suspecting her of having illicit
relations with Adolfus Braune, who had visited Wolff’s premises to
do nothing more than compliment the baker on his goods. After
killing his wife Dietmar Wolff had journeyed to the merchant’s home
under cover of darkness, intent on killing him also. The advocate
relayed to the court that fortunately the Braune home was defended
by a number of guards who had managed to overpower Wolff before he
could complete his heinous plan.

Two things sealed
Dietmar’s fate. First, he was found unconscious outside Adolfus
Braune’s house in the west of the city. When asked to explain this,
Dietmar stated that he had been knocked unconscious in his bedroom
before being carried across the city. The judge asked him why
anyone would wish to transport him to the other side of the city,
to which Dietmar replied that it had obviously been Braune who had
broke into his home and attacked his family. There was a stunned
silence after he had spoken these words, not least among the
advocates. Adolfus Braune was one of the most respected leading
citizens of Lübeck, a man renowned for his generosity to both the
church and the city. The idea that he would break into the home of
a lowly baker to assault his wife was preposterous. Worse, it was
insulting.

The second thing that
condemned Dietmar was the testimony of the imposing Artur, the
commander of the men who guarded the property of Adolfus Braune.
The judge rubbed his chin once more as he listened to Artur tell of
how he had with great difficulty prevented Dietmar Wolff from
entering his master’s home, the baker wounding two of his men in
the process. The merchant had been too shaken to appear in person
but had sent Artur to testify in his place, who handed a notary a
letter prepared by his master. The notary passed the letter to the
judge who read it and then looked at Dietmar Wolff with narrow,
merciless eyes.

‘The sentence is
death. Take him away.’

‘No!’ wailed Conrad,
who was quickly bundled out of the room by Rudolf and Henke to save
him from being flogged or worse.

Outside the town hall
he angrily wrestled himself away from his two guardians and made to
go back into the courtroom. Henke stood before him.

‘Don’t be a fool.’

‘My father is
innocent,’ he shouted, and then held his head in his hands.
‘Innocent,’ he said quietly.

‘There is nothing to
be done,’ said Rudolf. ‘I am sorry.’

They took Conrad back
to the monastery. He wanted to see his father but the authorities
would not allow that. Too many instances of relatives smuggling
weapons to the condemned on the eve of their executions had
resulted in a spate of fatal injuries to gaolers. They could see
their errant loved ones when they were brought to the scaffold.
Conrad trudged back to the south of the city with his head hanging
low, not really believing that his father had been sentenced to
death for a crime he did not commit. In his innocence he believed
that the truth would surface and his father would be released and
then they would be a family again. And that is what he told Marie
after he had returned to their new home. Despite his father’s gaunt
and dirty appearance Conrad went to bed convinced that they would
soon be reunited with their father.

‘The boy’s father will
go to his death an innocent man,’ remarked Rudolf, placing the
silver goblet on the table in front of him.

The hour was late and
silence permeated the bishop’s lavish quarters, the candles
flickering in their holders, their fire illuminating the chiselled
features of Bishop Albert who sat opposite him. In Livonia Rudolf
and his brothers always seemed to huddle round the half-light
produced by their cheap tallow candles. But in the cathedral palace
in Lübeck the expensive beeswax candles gave off much brighter
light.

‘The court found him
guilty,’ replied Bishop Albert.

Rudolf traced a finger
round the rim of the goblet. ‘The influence of Adolfus Braune
weighed the scales of justice against the baker.’

‘Braune is this city’s
wealthiest merchant, brother,’ said Bishop Albert, ‘and much
respected.’

Rudolf smiled. ‘Wealth
and respect always seem to be close relations, bishop.’

Bishop Albert
shrugged. ‘The fact is that Braune has been most generous
concerning supplying ships to transport those crusaders who are at
this very moment marching from Saxony to Lübeck to fight for the
cross against the heathens.’

‘Your uncle has been
most fervent, bishop.’

Bishop Albert was the
nephew of the Archbishop of Bremen and Hamburg, who did much to
encourage lords to undertake crusade in the Baltic to support
Bishop Albert’s efforts against the pagans. The bishop himself
often travelled throughout Germany to enlist recruits to his cause,
but he was based in Riga whereas his uncle was stationed
permanently in Germany.

‘Indeed. Concerning
Adolfus Braune, I cannot afford to alienate him so I would
appreciate it if you did not provoke him.’

Rudolf looked hurt.
‘Provoke, bishop?’

Bishop Albert wagged a
finger at him. The lighted reflected off the gold ring carrying an
amethyst that he wore on the fourth finger of his hand, which had
been given to him by Pope Innocent III himself. ‘The Sword Brothers
are not titled thus for nothing.’

Rudolf spread his
hands. ‘I would not dream of disturbing the peace, bishop.’

Bishop Albert nodded.
‘You will still return to Riga early?’

‘I will, bishop.
Wenden needs strengthening before winter comes. To that end I will
be taking stonemasons and mercenaries back with me.’

Wenden was a former
pagan hill fort that had been captured two years ago by the
crusaders. It was now a major stronghold of the Sword Brothers who
were building a stone castle in place of the wooden ramparts. But
progress was slow, not least due to a paucity of funds. Rudolf
welcomed the annual influx of crusaders into Livonia but they
usually only stayed for the summer; when they departed the forces
left behind were greatly overstretched. At this time the number of
secular German vassals resident in Livonia was small. Mercenaries
were a useful addition to Christian forces and they stayed all year
round, as long as they were paid.

‘I hope to bring
several hundred men with me when I return to Riga,’ said Bishop
Albert.

‘We will need them,’
said Rudolf, taking a sip at his wine. ‘We stand a Christian island
surrounded by an ocean of pagans.’

‘God is our armour,
Brother Rudolf. We must have faith. Returning to the matter of the
baker’s children, what do you suggest Bishop Theodoric should do
with them, seeing as God has seen fit to entrust them to his
keeping?’

‘I will take the boy
back with me to Wenden,’ answered Rudolf. ‘If he stays here he will
be in danger from Adolfus Braune, either that or he will attempt to
kill the merchant and will thus follow his father to the
scaffold.’

‘And the girl?’

‘The nunnery will
offer her security and safety,’ Rudolf answered.

‘Why do you take such
an interest in these children?’

It was a good question
and Rudolf had to think for a few seconds before he replied.
‘Perhaps because they came to me, two frightened, lost souls who
were in need of aid. Besides, the boy might make a useful
soldier.’

Bishop Albert laughed.
‘Ever the realist. It may interest you to know that I have more
lost souls for your care. One boy, a beggar, was caught stealing a
loaf of bread. Fortunately for him he was brought before a church
court that sought fit to show clemency.’

‘As long as he devoted
his life to the church,’ said Rudolf.

‘Better than swinging
from the end of a rope,’ Bishop Albert rebuked him. ‘You can take
him back with you as well. Another soldier for the army of God. The
baker will be executed tomorrow, I believe.’

Rudolf nodded.

Bishop Albert frowned.
‘Perhaps it would be best if his children did not witness it.’

‘The girl I agree,’
said Rudolf, ‘but I will take the boy so he can bid farewell to his
father. He deserves that at least.’

Bishop Albert raised
an eyebrow.

‘The boy should see
death in all its grisly glory, bishop, the more so if he is to
become a soldier. He will see enough of it in the years to
come.’

Bishop Albert smiled.
‘I am hopeful that we will baptise the pagans rather than subdue
them with the sword, Brother Rudolf.’

Now it was Rudolf’s
turn to smile. ‘If that were true you would not have created the
Sword Brothers.’

Conrad rose early the
next morning, before the first rays of the sun were lighting up the
eastern sky, just as he had done every morning while working for
his father. He was still in a state of shock caused by the events
of the past few days. A part of him still did not believe that his
mother was dead and his father sentenced to death for her murder.
He had been in the room when the criminals had broken into his
home. It was they who should have been in that courtroom, not his
father. But Brother Rudolf and his stern companion Henke would be
taking him to see his father today so all would be well. He was
confused as to exactly who they were. The black-robed monks of the
monastery had told him that they were Sword Brothers and were
warrior monks, knights who had taken holy orders, but he did not
understand. All he knew was that they were taking him to see his
father and all would be well.

Marie was full of
questions to which he had no answers, not least why she was not
allowed to sleep in the same room as him. He told her that she
should obey the nuns and not cause trouble, but that this evening
they would all be back together at home. Tears came to his eyes and
he looked away when she stated that she missed her mother.

After a simple but
fulsome breakfast of thick soup in a bowl and ample portions of
bread Marie was taken back to the nunnery and Rudolf and Henke came
to collect Conrad. As before their arms and legs were covered in
chainmail and they both wore white surcoats bearing red crosses and
swords. Around their waists were brown leather belts holding swords
on their left sides and long daggers on their right hips, while
their heads were encased in mail coifs.

The day was sunny and
mild as the three made their way in silence to the city’s cobbled
market square where the executions were to take place. Conrad
walked between Rudolf and Henke, the latter keeping a tight grip on
the hilt of his dagger. From experience he knew that public
executions were rough, boisterous affairs and already there were a
great many people heading for the square. They spoke in loud and
eager voices, many already inebriated from drinking copious amounts
of ale and boasting of wanting to be close to the ‘stage’. Henke
had seen this type of bloodlust before – the desire to get as close
as possible to where death was being meted out. He also knew that
crowds could turn ugly if executions were botched or presented a
poor spectacle.

‘Are you sure this is
a good idea?’ he said to Rudolf.

‘Not frightened of a
few townspeople are you, Henke?’ replied Rudolf, smiling. He knew
that Henke was not afraid of anything but also knew that his friend
regarded most civilians with a cool contempt at best, believing
them to be cowards at heart. The fact that they revelled in public
executions only increased his disdain for them.

‘We must hurry,’ said
Conrad, still convinced that his father would be freed.

Henke looked at him
and sighed while Rudolf said nothing.

The market square was
teeming with activity when they arrived, the vendors who had
arrived hours before to set up their carts and booths doing a brisk
trade selling food, drink and souvenirs. The scene had a carnival
air as minstrels and jugglers entertained the crowd, which for the
moment was good-natured. Rudolf nodded towards the large wooden
scaffold that had been erected on the northern side of the
square.

‘Come on.’

He led the way through
the crowd that thickened as they neared the platform, upon which
had been arranged tables holding swords, axes, knives, branding
irons, tongs and ropes. Two braziers stood beside the tables and in
front of them, fixed to the scaffold, were two large, thick wooden
beams arranged in an ‘X’ shape. On one side of the scaffold was
heaped a pile of large spoked wheels with iron rims. Henke pushed
people out of the way, who turned angrily to face him but then
cowered away when they saw the size of him, his weaponry and the
insignia on his surcoat. Rudolf, in contrast, gently tapped
individuals on the shoulder and asked if he and the boy with him
could get to the front of the crowd, making the sign of the cross
as they moved aside.