The Sword Brothers (72 page)

‘Have a care, my
lord,’ Daugerutis warned him, ‘your tongue may yet talk your head
off its shoulders.’

Kitenis drew his sword
once more and before Stecse could draw his had turned it in his
hand to hold out the hilt to Daugerutis.

‘Then do it. And if
not do not stand in my way when I lead my men south in the
morning.’

Daugerutis could have
killed him with ease at that moment, but to do so would be futile.
He had three thousand men across the river that could be brought
into Livonia to replace those soldiers of the other dukes who now
sat before Lennewarden, Holm and Uexkull. And he still had nearly
ten thousand of his own men here, at Wenden, the majority of whom
could be used for an attack against Riga. He did not need them.

He waved his hand at
Kitenis. ‘Go then. I do not need you.’

He looked beyond him
to Butantas and Gedvilas. ‘Any of you.’

Kitenis sneered at
him, turned and pushed past the other two dukes and stormed from
the tent. Butantas and Gedvilas looked awkward for a few seconds
before nodding half-heartedly and leaving.

‘My lord,’ said Stecse
with concern, ‘can we afford to lose so many warriors?’

‘We do not need them,’
replied Daugerutis.

‘But…’

The grand duke held up
a hand to silence him. ‘Send riders immediately to the besiegers of
Lennewarden, Holm and Uexkull. Inform the commanders that the
castle of Wenden has fallen and they are to launch their own
assaults immediately.’

‘I do not understand,’
said Stecse.

The duke smiled. ‘It
is quite simple. By the time our former allies have slept off their
night of drinking and organised what is left of their soldiers,
your couriers will be well on their way to their destinations. By
the time the dukes link up with their men conducting siege
operations they will find their numbers sorely depleted.’

‘To what end?’ queried
Stecse.

‘To emphasise to my
fellow dukes that insolence incurs a heavy price and to weaken them
so they will not be tempted to attack my strongholds when they
cross over the Dvina.’

‘They might do that
anyway, lord.’

‘Not with you at
Panemunis, they won’t. Take five hundred horsemen and get yourself
back to my capital as quickly as possible. Take Thalibald and his
son with you. They might prove useful in the future. And if not I
can always kill them.’

‘I would rather stay
here with you, lord.’

Daugerutis frowned at
him. ‘And I would rather you obeyed orders. Before you despatch the
couriers, speak to the chiefs of the Semgallians. They might be
tempted to follow the other dukes. Offer them and their men gold to
stay.’

The next morning
Kitenis, Butantas and Gedvilas left the army without paying their
respects to the grand duke. Despite his protestations Stecse also
left that morning, taking Thalibald and Waribule with him. Happily
the Semgallians had accepted the offer of gold and now mustered in
their ranks as the grand duke’s army arrayed itself before Wenden,
at a safe distance from the walls.

The bodies of those
slain the previous day littered the ground in front of the ditch,
the latter also filled with the corpses of men and horses. The
weather was warm now as spring at last came to Livonia and already
flies were buzzing around dead flesh. Soon the foul stench of
rotting gore would become unbearable for those manning the
perimeter wall. In life the soldiers of the other dukes had failed
to take Wenden; in death they would add to the general misery of a
garrison under siege.

Daugerutis arrayed his
army partly to awe the defenders but also to mask the departure of
just over two thousand men. It would have been three thousand but
over nine hundred warriors of the departing three dukes lay rotting
on the ground in front of the castle. An additional three hundred
had been slain during Duke Ykintas’ abortive attack. Fortunately a
pleasant breeze was currently blowing from the west so the odour of
death was not in the faces of the army as it stood in silence
facing the castle. The standard of the black bear flew proudly
among the ranks of the six thousand foot soldiers the grand duke
had brought to this place.

*****

‘When they launch
another assault how do we stop them?’ queried Conrad as he rested
his shield against the timber wall and observed the Lithuanian army
through a peephole.

‘We don’t,’ answered
Rudolf. ‘The perimeter will be abandoned and we will make our stand
in the castle itself.’

The deputy commander
of the garrison had been visiting his soldiers on the walls, giving
instructions on what to do in the event of an assault. Throughout
the night Master Thaddeus had overseen the dismantling of the
mangonels and their relocation to the castle courtyard. No one
wanted them to fall into the hands of the enemy when the inevitable
assault and breach of the perimeter occurred. As a result no one
had had more than two hours of sleep. Conrad had black rings round
his eyes and his mouth tasted dry.

‘How is Rameke?’ he
asked.

‘As well as can be
expected in the circumstances,’ answered Rudolf. ‘He and his men
are out of arrows just as we are out of crossbow bolts.’

‘And Daina?’ said
Conrad casually.

‘She grieves for her
father,’ replied Rudolf, ‘as do we all. Thalibald was a good
man.’

Conrad was sure he had
seen him among the ranks of the enemy but said nothing. Perhaps it
was in his imagination.

Rudolf went to a
peephole and looked down. ‘These bodies will soon start rotting.
The stench will be awful.’

‘Will not the
Lithuanians collect their dead for burial?’ enquired Hans who
looked pale and tired.

Rudolf shook his head.
‘Not without a parley and Master Berthold is not mindful to grant
such a courtesy to pagans. Besides, if the enemy attacks and takes
these walls then the dead will be their problem.’

But the Lithuanians
did not attack and after an hour they dispersed back to camp, which
now extended all round the castle. As the breeze slackened and the
sun peeped out from behind huge white puffy clouds the exhausted
garrison took the opportunity to snatch some well-earned sleep.
Those Lithuanians who did not have tents cut down trees to fashion
makeshift shelters and soon the air echoed with the sound of
hundreds of men chopping wood.

Master Berthold called
a council of war at which Rudolf conveyed the happy news that the
garrison had suffered only one casualty during the previous day’s
fighting: one of the crossbowmen had broken an ankle after falling
from a ladder. It had been a remarkably one-sided battle and the
master personally thanked Master Thaddeus for his skill in
strengthening the perimeter wall. Rudolf then dampened spirits by
reporting that the armoury had been emptied of crossbow bolts and
Rameke stated that he and his warriors were similarly out of
arrows. Nevertheless, Berthold was optimistic that the castle could
hold out in the face of the Lithuanians, notwithstanding that it
was crammed with dozens of women and children in addition to the
soldiers of the garrison, horses and ponies and half a dozen cows
that had been brought in from the fields before the enemy had
arrived, plus the livestock the Livs had brought with them. Food
supplies were adequate for the time being and fortunately the well
in the courtyard was a reliable source of fresh water. Once the
animal fodder was exhausted the cows, ponies and then the horses
would be slaughtered for meat. For the moment the garrison would
sleep in the civilian huts in front of the castle, but once the
perimeter was breached the huts would be fired and everyone would
retreat up the hill and into the castle itself. Everyone prayed
that the bishop would arrive from Germany before that happened.

As the days passed the
Lithuanians made no attempt to storm the perimeter, being content
to ring the fortress and starve the occupants into surrender. The
stench of rotting flesh became unbearable but Master Berthold would
not relent on his determination not to ask the pagans for a parley.
And so those on guard duty wore face masks as rats and flies
feasted on bloated corpses in and around the ditch.

The only thing of note
was the stench that permeated the air around the perimeter, those
in the castle higher up fortunately being saved from the worst of
the nauseous aroma. It was May now and the days were getting longer
and warmer but no messages reached the garrison, and Lithuanian
hawks brought down every pigeon sent out. After the enemy assault
Conrad had managed to see Daina and Rameke, who had been given the
master’s hall for their quarters. Their mother, overcome with
grief, had locked herself away in the master’s bedroom and would
see no one. Berthold had been a friend of Thalibald and said that
he was not too grand to sleep in a wooden hut, and in any case he
thought it more fitting that a Liv chief should have lodgings
appropriate to his rank.

‘I do not feel like a
chief,’ said Rameke morosely, ‘my village and lands are occupied by
the enemy.’

‘It is only
temporary,’ said Conrad, trying to cheer him up, though he had no
idea whether Wenden would be relieved or whether they would all be
killed that very day. He had spent the night on guard duty and,
following early morning mass, had eaten a sparse breakfast of
biscuit and water before having two hours of sleep. He felt dirty
and tired but Lukas had given him permission to visit the Liv chief
and his sister.

Daina smiled wanly at
him. Even in mourning she looked perfect, her pale face only
accentuating her green eyes and full lips.

‘You are very kind,
Conrad.’

‘The enemy will never
take this castle,’ he said grandly.

‘As long as I die
fighting with a sword in my hand I do not care,’ said Rameke.

‘You are a chief now,
Rameke,’ Daina reprehended him, ‘and should think of your people
rather than yourself.’

Rameke laughed
bitterly. ‘My people? A score of warriors and a few dozen women and
children?’

‘They are still your
people and you have a responsibility to them,’ she responded
firmly. ‘Where there is life there is hope.’

Conrad looked at her
with admiration. In adversity she was lovelier than ever, even with
her hair tied back and attired in a simple white dress. At that
moment he vowed to himself that should the castle walls be
breached, he would leave his post to be beside her, fighting to his
last breath to save her. After all, they would all be dead anyway
so deserting his post would be irrelevant. He hoped God would
forgive him, though. He gazed at her lovingly and forgot about
Rameke.

‘Are you all right,
Conrad?’ asked the chief.

‘Mm. What? Yes, of
course. Just a little tired,’ blurted Conrad.

‘You are both very
brave,’ said Daina.

Rameke rolled his eyes
but Conrad smiled shyly and felt his cheeks flush.

‘I must return to my
duties,’ he said.

‘As must I,’ added
Rameke, rising from the grand master’s chair.

Conrad nodded at it.
‘It suits you.’

Rameke buckled on his
sword. ‘What, the chair?’

‘No, command and
authority.’

Daina, who had been
sitting beside him, jumped up and held Conrad’s hands, then leaned
forward and kissed him on the cheek.

‘For my brave
warrior.’

All three left the
master’s hall, Conrad back to the perimeter wall, Rameke to a
council of war in the north tower’s newly completed ground floor
and Daina to assist in the kitchens that were struggling to feed
the dozens of new arrivals. A semblance of order had been restored
to the castle following the arrival of the Livs, though the
courtyard was full of pens that contained the animals that they had
managed to bring, including the oxen that the Sword Brothers had
originally given to Thalibald to plough his fields. Conrad looked
at them as he passed their pen. How he would like a meal of roast
beef.

‘Tempted to slaughter
one?’

He turned to see Henke
approaching, shield slung over his back and holding a short spear
in his right hand and a mace in the other. His own shield was also
slung on his back.

‘The women and
children come first.’

Henke smiled evilly.
‘Very noble. You’ll think different after a few weeks of being on
half then quarter rations.’

Conrad began walking
towards the bridge over the moat. The original timber walls still
stood in this part of the castle wall, along with the two towers
that flanked the gated entrance. Though the stonemasons and
carpenters worked hard, the towers and walls grew but slowly.
Rudolf had told him that it might take twenty years to complete the
castle – if it survived this summer, that is.

‘Been to see the fair
Daina?’ grinned Henke, who appeared to be unusually chatty today.
Normally he was like an ill-tempered bear and best left alone. The
perilous situation he found himself in obviously brought out his
talkative side.

‘Yes,’ replied Conrad
guardedly.

‘She will make someone
a fine wife, if she lives.’

‘She will live,’ said
Conrad forcefully.

They walked over the
bridge spanning the moat.

‘You fancy yourself as
her husband, do you not?’ teased Henke.

‘I did not say
that.’

He grinned. ‘You don’t
have to. It’s written all over your face. You aim high, boy, I’ll
give you that. But you seem to have forgotten one thing.’

‘Oh?’

‘You are to become a
brother knight, which means you cannot marry anyone. The oath of
chastity, though rape and plunder on campaign does not count. So if
you want to bed her you’d better be quick about it.’

Conrad shot him a
hateful glance. He respected Henke for his skill with weapons and
his loyalty to Rudolf but he did not like him particularly. But he
also knew that he did not have the skill with a sword to better him
in a fight. Not yet, anyhow. Henke saw the look.