The Sword Brothers (81 page)

‘Vsevolod looks to his
own interests,’ spat Stecse, ‘we do not need him.’

He placed a hand on
his son’s shoulders. ‘Mindaugas wishes to fight in his first
battle, is that not so?’

‘Yes, sir,’ beamed
Mindaugas.

‘You are to be granted
your wish,’ said Vetseke, ‘for surely as day follows night the
Christians will be here soon enough.’

Mindaugas looked at
the ditch. ‘This ditch can be used to bury them after the
battle.’

Vetseke smiled
politely but said nothing. More likely the ditch, and the camp for
that matter, would be full of Lithuanian dead after the fighting
was over. He had seen what damage the crossbowmen of the crusaders
could cause, to say nothing of their machines that had battered
down the defences of his own stronghold. And yet he liked Stecse
and thought him an intelligent individual who did not underestimate
his enemy. That was good, for he would need all his wits to battle
the bishop’s army when it arrived.

When darkness came he
took his leave of Stecse and slipped out of camp with his men,
striking towards the northeast to avoid any crusader outposts that
might have been established around the bridgehead. He had become
accustomed to travelling at night, like a spirit condemned to
wander the earth for all eternity. His men were the remnants of
those who had taken part in the rebellion the previous year,
individuals who, like him, had no homes or families, or any future.
He told them that one day they would return to their villages when
the Christians had been defeated and the old ways had been
restored. But he no longer believed his own words. Probably neither
did they. But they stayed with him because they had nowhere else to
go.

*****

The bishop’s army left
camp at dawn, long files of knights on horseback carrying maces,
short spears and axes, riding with their bodyguards, retainers and
personal companions. Normally these soldiers, the flower of north
German chivalry, fought on horseback but today would battle on foot
to take the pagan camp and plant the banner of the Bishop of Riga
among their corpses. Then came the squires of the knights armed
with maces and axes and wearing the surcoats of their masters.
Finally there were the foot soldiers, a mixture of professional
crossbowmen and spearmen plus the retainers of the knights. Three
thousand crusaders in total, all intent on wiping out the
Lithuanian bridgehead.

The bishop once again
had his own mounted bodyguard, a score of mail-clad soldiers
wearing Riga’s coat of arms on their shields and surcoats and
carrying a great banner bearing the cross keys of the city. He also
had his own foot guards, of course, but they had been left behind
in the city along with the militia after Archdeacon Stefan had
protested that if they left Riga it would be as naked and
defenceless as a newborn lamb.

King Caupo, Thalibald,
Waribule and Rameke rode with the bishop and Bishop Theodoric, a
hundred mounted Livs accompanying their king while the other eight
hundred of his warriors tramped behind on foot.

In the vanguard of the
army were the Sword Brothers: seventy-three brother knights and one
hundred and eighty sergeants. Tiny in comparison to the number of
crusaders, they were the most disciplined soldiers in all Livonia.
The Sword Brothers had never been defeated in battle, the enemy had
captured none of their castles and men spoke in hushed tones of
reverence whenever they passed by. They were God’s holy warriors,
men pure of heart and spirit, and wherever they went victory surely
followed.

‘It’s going to piss
down with rain,’ said Henke, looking up at the sky heaped with grey
clouds. ‘I hate fighting in the rain.’

‘I thought you loved
fighting, whatever the weather conditions,’ commented Rudolf.

The masters rode at
the head of the order with Volquin but the brother knights and
sergeants of the garrisons stayed together. Though they had almost
completed their training Lukas insisted that Conrad, Anton, Johann
and Hans kept close to him on the march. They did so today, which
had dawned overcast and cool, with a slight southerly breeze
ruffling the dozens of standards that flew among the army behind
them. Lukas and the novices rode behind Rudolf and Henke, the
latter being in an irritable mood.

‘Not when it means
wading through mud to get to grips with the enemy,’ complained
Henke. ‘We should leave it to those who have come for the summer
from Germany.’

‘That would not be
charitable,’ said Lukas.

‘Nor very
commendable,’ added Rudolf.

‘You can forget taking
any prisoners,’ moaned Henke. ‘Any that try to give themselves up
will have their throats slit.’

‘I’m sure that will
alleviate your reluctance to fight in the rain,’ said Rudolf.

‘Killing prisoners is
a sin,’ said Walter from behind Johann and Anton.

Henke rolled his eyes.
‘Killing pagans is not a sin,
brother
.’

‘Prisoners,’ replied
Walter, ‘whatever their religion, must be given the opportunity to
be baptised into the Holy Church before their fate is decided.’

‘I leave that decision
to God,’ said Henke. ‘I kill them and He decides what to do with
their souls. Saves a lot of time and effort.’

Walter was not amused
but Rudolf and Lukas laughed. Conrad felt the first spots of rain
on his face and so did Henke.

‘And so it begins,’ he
complained. ‘By midday we will all be soaked and covered in mud.’
He pulled his cloak around him.

‘Not if the
Lithuanians retreat or surrender,’ said Lukas.

A pained expression
crept over Henke’s face. ‘That would be the final straw: marching
out to get soaked and covered in filth and we don’t even get to
fight.’

Rudolf shook his head.
‘Sometimes life can be so very cruel, Henke.’

But the Lithuanians
did not retreat or surrender and after they had marched the short
distance from Kokenhusen to the enemy bridgehead the crusaders
began deploying for battle. The horses were gathered and taken to
the rear, the younger squires being responsible for their
safekeeping. Conrad had noticed that there were other novices among
the Sword Brothers now, boys younger than himself who accompanied
the garrisons of the order’s other castles. They led the horses to
the rear while he and Wenden’s other three novices took their place
in the battle line.

‘Keep your eyes peeled
and your shields tight to your bodies,’ Lukas instructed them as
they walked across the flat, open ground towards the Lithuanian
defences. ‘The enemy will have archers behind that rampart.’

Conrad could not see
anyone on the enemy rampart. ‘Perhaps they have all fled, Brother
Lukas.’

‘They are there,’
replied Lukas, ‘they just aren’t showing their faces.’

‘They are not stupid,’
said Rudolf, ‘they don’t want to get a crossbow bolt in their
face.’

‘Pity we left all our
crossbowmen behind,’ remarked Henke.

The Sword Brothers had
brought only their brother knights, sergeants and novices into the
field, leaving their mercenaries to guard the castles, which still
might be attacked by Lithuanians attempting to recross the Dvina.
And as no one trusted the Estonians the castles along the Gauja had
to be manned at all times.

‘Caupo will lend us a
few archers,’ said Rudolf.

The mood was relaxed
and confident as the army deployed into its assault positions. It
assumed a concave shape as it formed up around four hundred paces
from the earth rampart that surrounded the enemy camp. There was an
entrance cut in the centre of the rampart that was blocked by a
pile of tree trunks festooned with iron spikes. The only way to get
into the camp was over the rampart.

It took an hour for
the army to get into its assault positions, eventually forming five
separate ‘battles.’ The bishop bestowed the place of honour – the
right wing – to Count Horton and a thousand crusaders, and to their
left was a similar-sized division of crusaders under Sir Helmold.
In the centre of the line stood the bishop with his bodyguard and a
thousand crusaders. On the left flank of these men was the small
‘battle’ of Sword Brothers, while Caupo and his nine hundred Livs
formed the army’s left wing that extended almost to the river.

The king sent a number
of scouts to reconnoitre the enemy’s position while the army
arranged itself, the men riding their ponies to within a few yards
of the rampart. As they neared the Lithuanian defences a number of
warriors appeared on top of the rampart to launch spears at the
riders, two being struck and killed before the others retired.

‘You see, I told you
they were there,’ said Lukas.

The Sword Brothers
deployed on foot just as they would on horseback, with the brother
knights in the front rank and the sergeants behind in two ranks.
Thus within their division the white-clad soldiers of the various
garrisons of the order formed seven separate groups, each one of
three lines, standing side by side. The wind had increased now and
the drizzle had turned into a light rain that blew into the
crusaders’ faces.

Caupo sent riders to
the other divisions to inform them that there was a wide, deep
ditch in front of the rampart, the latter also being decorated with
sharpened stakes. It was Rameke who rode to report to the Sword
Brothers. He nodded to Conrad as he spoke to Rudolf.

‘My father is sending
archers to support your attack, Brother Rudolf.’

‘Thank him from me,’
said Rudolf, ‘they will be most useful.’

‘When do we
attack?’

Rudolf looked up at
the dark grey clouds. ‘Soon, otherwise we will sink into the mud
and won’t be able to move. Isn’t that right, Henke?’

Henke said nothing but
merely stared defiantly at the enemy rampart as the raindrops hit
him.

‘God be with you,
Rameke,’ said Rudolf.

Rameke smiled. ‘And
with you.’

He raised his hand to
Conrad and then rode back to the left where his father stood in
front of hundreds of Liv warriors. On the way he passed fifty
archers that Thalibald had sent to support the order’s assault.
They were armed with bows made from yew that could shoot an arrow
up to a range of two hundred and fifty paces. The archers wore no
armour or helmets and so were placed behind the Sword Brothers,
from where they could shoot their missiles over their heads towards
the enemy. The archers with Thalibald adopted a similar tactic. In
contrast, the crossbowmen accompanying the crusader ‘battles’
deployed in front of their divisions, a line of spearmen walking a
few paces ahead of them to provide protection.

Conrad gripped the
handle of his axe as the rain became heavier. There was a blast of
trumpets from where the bishop sat on his horse beside Caupo in
front of his and the king’s mounted bodyguards. Trumpets coming
from the divisions of Sir Helmold and Count Horton answered the
call, and on the left the Livs began banging the shafts of their
spears on the insides of their shields.

Rudolf turned and
raised his mace. ‘God with us!’

The Sword Brothers
answered ‘God with us!’ and began walking forward, the brother
knights putting on their full-face helmets. Conrad felt a tingle of
excitement course through him and momentarily forgot the rain that
was striking his face. The visibility was beginning to diminish as
the rain got heavier but he could still see no enemy troops on the
rampart.

*****

The earth rampart was
slippery now as Stecse scrambled up it with his son by his side. He
had been observing the crusader army all morning, watching them as
they formed into five divisions to surround his encampment. And now
they were attacking at last. At the foot of the whole length of the
rampart stood his warriors, the majority equipped with shields,
helmets or leather caps, spears and leather armour, a few wearing
mail but only the chiefs armed with swords. The majority had axes
and knives tucked in their belts or carried the fearsome
kistien
. His few archers stood fifty paces back from the
rampart, ready to shoot their arrows in a high trajectory onto the
heads of the crusaders. He pointed to the left.

‘Those are the
soldiers that the Bishop of Riga brings with him every year from
the lands over the sea, my son.’

They both heard the
symphony of trumpets and saw the divisions begin to move
forward.

‘You see those men in
front, Mindaugas?’ said Stecse, pointing at the vanguard of the
crusader divisions. His son nodded.

‘They are the
crossbowmen whose bolts can go through shields and armour. But
their weapons cannot shoot through banks of earth.’

Mindaugas looked to
the right, at the white-clad soldiers moving steadily towards them
and the much larger brown block of warriors to their left.

‘There are few Sword
Brothers, father.’

‘Quantity does not
always equate to quality, my son.’

‘Can we hold them?’
asked Mindaugas, his father noting concern in his voice.

Stecse smiled at him.
‘They do not outnumber us and we have the advantage of fighting
behind a ditch and rampart, which also prevents them from using
their crossbows. We can hold them.’

But even if they could
not he had given orders that a party of horsemen was to get
Mindaugas back to the other side of the river in the event of a
disaster.

‘To your position,’
Stecse ordered.

Mindaugas’ position
was with the reserve – five hundred men deployed near the bridge of
boats, well to the rear.

‘I would prefer to
stay with you, father.’

‘Do as you are told!’
barked Stecse. ‘I have no time to babysit you and fight a battle at
the same time.’

Mindaugas slunk away,
humbled, while his father continued to observe the oncoming
enemy.

*****

It was raining heavily
now, the sturdy leather soles on the feet of Conrad’s mail chausses
sinking into the sodden ground and slowing his pace. Everyone else
was having the same difficulty and in front of him he could hear
Henke’s voice coming from within his helmet.