The Sword Brothers (88 page)

‘Once again your
majesty illuminates proceedings with the light of your wisdom,’
said Stefan, who then turned to the crusaders. ‘I think it would be
prudent, my lords, to leave the details of the raid to his majesty
and the grand master, and to gird our loins for the great battle
with the devil’s servants in the spring.’

Volquin, feeling
mischievous, raised a hand.

‘Yes, grand master?’
said Stefan.

‘Does this mean that
you will not be leading the army against Lembit?’

‘Did you not hear his
majesty, grand master?’ said Stefan gruffly, ‘to undertake a major
campaign in the winter is to invite disaster. I have been charged
with safeguarding the bishop’s interests, not squandering his
forces in an exercise in vanity. You surprise me, grand
master.’

‘And you never fail to
amaze me, archdeacon,’ replied Volquin.

The archdeacon heard
the slight but let it go, though the other Sword Brothers could not
resist smiling.

‘So it is agreed,’
said Theodoric, ‘we raid the enemy this winter and wait until the
bishop’s return in the new year before finishing Lembit once and
for all.’

‘God willing,’ said
Volquin.

‘Ay, God willing,’
replied Theodoric.

‘There is also the
matter of Gerzika,’ remarked Stefan, ‘and more specifically how we
are to deal with Prince Vsevolod.’

‘He should die,’ spat
Sir Helmold.

‘I am apt to agree
with Sir Helmold,’ said Caupo. ‘Despite his apparent close
relations with the bishop he did nothing to alert us of the
invasion of the Lithuanians and, when they were butchering my
people, he did not send troops to aid our cause.’

‘We should march on
his city right away,’ shouted Count Horton, to thunderous applause
from his fellow lords.

Volquin once again
rose from his chair. ‘My lords, noble though your intentions are
Gerzika lies nearly a hundred miles to the east of this town. We
cannot raid Estonia and assault Gerzika at the same time.’

‘But Vsevolod must be
punished for his treachery,’ said Theodoric, the lords murmuring
their approval.

‘And he will be, lord
bishop,’ said Volquin, ‘only not this year. He is, after all, not
going anywhere.’

‘He is not at
Gerzika,’ said Stefan, ‘he is in Lithuania.’

Volquin was most
surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘The river gossip
talks of Vsevolod being in the stronghold of his dead
father-in-law, along with his wife and children,’ continued Stefan.
‘He is now grand duke of the Lithuanian tribes, or at least those
who have remained loyal to the memory of his wife’s father.
Vsevolod will not be able to keep peace among the Lithuanian tribes
and resist an assault against Gerzika.’

‘Then let us sail down
the river and storm it,’ suggested Count Horton.

‘It is still
garrisoned,’ said Stefan, ‘and its defences are strong and will
require siege engines to breach.’

‘You seem to know much
about Gerzika, archdeacon,’ remarked Volquin.

‘I make it my business
to know about the bishop’s enemies, grand master,’ replied
Stefan.

‘Be that as it may,’
said Theodoric. ‘Gerzika will have to wait until Lembit has been
crushed. We deal with the Estonians first and then Prince Vsevolod.
Does everyone concur?’

He looked at the
crusader lords who said nothing, smiling at Caupo when he caught
the eye of the king. Volquin’s serious face nodded his approval and
so the meeting was concluded with everyone standing whilst
Theodoric asked for God’s blessing on the decisions they had
taken.

The next day there was
a meeting in the grand master’s office, which was crowded as his
castellans and their deputies crammed into the room to petition
Volquin on their requests for supplies. He told them that Stefan
had refused to authorise the release of armour, weapons and
supplies from the well-stocked storerooms and armoury in Riga’s
castle until the bishop had returned from Germany.

‘We need the supplies
now, grand master,’ insisted Master Friedhelm.

‘We also need money to
pay our mercenaries,’ said Master Berthold. ‘We may fight for God
but they kill for money and if they do not receive their wages then
they will pack up and leave.’

‘It is true, grand
master,’ added Master Griswold. ‘My mercenaries are already
complaining that they have not been paid in six months. They will
not go another half year without pay.’

Volquin held up his
hands. ‘Brothers, I hear your pleas and have given a great deal of
thought to the matter of money. Archdeacon Stefan believes that he
has the Sword Brothers over a barrel but I will show him that our
order is not the plaything of a jumped-up office boy.’

Volquin picked up a
number of parchments from his desk and held them up.

‘We all know that the
Dvina is a highway along which goods flow to the markets in this
town, and that merchants pay tolls for the privilege of trading
here. They get rich and the bishop’s treasury fills with gold. My
brothers, it is time that we dipped our toes into the rich waters
of the Dvina.’

He smiled and looked
up to see a row of blank expressions.

‘It is quite simple,’
he said. ‘Along the Dvina travel boats filled with fur, flax,
timber, tar, corn and hides. And when these Russians and
Lithuanians sail or row to Riga they have to pass the castles of
the Sword Brothers.’

‘Our castles along the
Dvina provide security for the merchants,’ said Master Gerhard.

‘Indeed they do,’
concurred Volquin. ‘And now they will discover that security has to
be paid for.’

‘You wish us to
plunder shipping on the river?’ asked Master Friedhelm.

Volquin feigned shock.
‘Plunder, Master Friedhelm? We are the knights of Christ. We do not
plunder, we protect. No, no. We exact a small tax, that is all, in
order to raise the funds that will allow us to supply our brother
knights and sergeants and pay for our mercenaries. In doing so I do
not have to trouble Archdeacon Stefan with petitions, thereby
giving him more time to address matters of state, such as the
colour of the seat covers in the bishop’s palace.’

The others
laughed.

‘He will not like it,’
warned Master Berthold.

‘I will have to take
that chance,’ replied Volquin.

He handed one of the
parchments to Master Griswold. ‘This document authorises you to
stop and search all vessels that pass by Kokenhusen. It also
instructs you to levy a tax on any vessels carrying furs and hides,
the precise amount stated on the document.’

He next handed a
parchment to Master Aldous. ‘Lennewarden will levy a toll on those
vessels carrying flax.’

He handed the last two
parchments to masters Friedhelm and Gerhard, telling them that
Uexkull would tax vessels carrying timber and tar while Holm would
impose a levy on boats transporting corn and other crops.

‘In this way we will
raise enough money to maintain our garrisons. All monies collected
will be evenly divided between the castles along the Dvina and
along the Gauja. And may God bless our enterprise.’

Berthold and Rudolf
went back to Wenden in a far happier mood than when they had made
their journey to Riga, though they and the other garrison
commanders wondered about the reaction of Archdeacon Stefan when
word reached him that the Sword Brothers were levying taxes on the
Dvina’s commerce.

‘He came to this land
the bishop’s young nephew who had been taught to read and write,’
said Berthold. ‘And now he has the ear of Bishop Albert, is the
governor of Riga and has the town garrison and militia at his
command.’

‘He made himself
indispensible to the bishop,’ remarked Rudolf, ‘and has been richly
rewarded. But to what end?’

‘To what end? To our
friend the archdeacon ambition is an end in itself. As his power
and position grows so does the fear that he may lose it all. And
that makes him dangerous.’

Rudolf thought of the
pale-skinned, slightly portly archdeacon with his feminine hands
and laughed. ‘Dangerous?’

‘Not all enemies wear
armour and carry swords, Rudolf.’

*****

The winter was the
most severe that anyone could remember. The Dvina and Gauja froze
solid and the lakes and smaller rivers and streams became as hard
as iron. Christmas was celebrated at Wenden as usual and Master
Berthold welcomed not only Thalibald and his family but also the
German settlers who shivered in their newly built huts. And as
usual Conrad and the other novices served the Christmas meal to the
master and his guests in the dining hall. It had snowed nearly
every day in December and the whole garrison had been employed in
shovelling snow to clear the courtyard, track and walkways between
huts, though Lukas always made sure that they did not neglect their
training.

They undertook
exhausting patrols on foot, wading through the deep snow with
snowshoes fashioned from branches on their feet. When it stopped
snowing the skies were clear and blue, the land an endless sea of
pure white. When the sun shone it reflected off the snow and ice
and could lead to snow blindness, so they wore eye protectors:
wooden masks that were carved to fit the top half of the wearer’s
face. Tied behind the head with leather thongs, they had long, thin
slits cut in them for the wearer to see through that allowed only a
small amount of light to enter. Anton thought they looked
ridiculous but Lukas told them that it stopped them going snow
blind and such masks were worn by the hunters of the far north
where the night never came.

It was bitterly cold
but beautiful, though not as beautiful as Daina who graced the
castle for three days at Christmas. Conrad was allowed to walk
alone with her in the courtyard and within the perimeter, Rudolf
informing him that her father held him and the other novices in
high regard, but him especially as he had saved the bishop’s
life.

‘Just remember that a
knight thinks more of a maiden’s honour than he does his own
life.’

‘I would never
besmirch her honour, Brother Rudolf. But I’m not a knight.’

‘You will be soon,’
said Rudolf, ‘a knight of Christ.’

But he was not
thinking of being a knight as he walked with Daina in the courtyard
towards the bridge across the moat.

‘My father thinks
highly of you, Conrad,’ she told him. ‘If you asked him for my hand
in marriage he would say yes.’

His heart soared and
he could not suppress a smile. ‘He said that?’

She stopped and turned
to face him, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘He does not
have to. I know my own father.’

He wanted to grasp
both her hands but resisted the temptation, aware that sergeants
and brother knights were going about their business.

‘I want nothing more,
my love, but…’

A frown creased her
forehead. ‘But what?’

‘In the new year the
great campaign against Lembit will begin. I wish to be a part of
it.’

Daina’s frown was
replaced by concern. ‘You will go to war again?’

‘Of course, that is
why I was brought here all those years ago. Once Lembit is defeated
there will be peace in Livonia and then we can be married.’

She was disappointed,
he could see, but he could not desert his companions.

‘Next year Hans, Anton
and Johann will be made brother knights but I will choose to leave
the order and marry you, Daina, if you will wait that long.’

She smiled at him and
leaned closer. ‘I will wait for you, my heart. Just ensure that you
come back from your war.’

He felt like a
conquering hero. ‘I always come back. In any case, Brother Rudolf
has said that such is the size of the army that will march against
Lembit that he will probably give up without a fight.’

‘And then we can be
married?’

It was his turn to
smile. ‘And then we can be married, though I don’t know where we
shall live.’

‘In my father’s
village, of course,’ she replied. ‘He will give us a hut and we
will keep pigs and goats and share in the harvest. And in the
winter we will hunt elk and wolves and wrap ourselves in wolfskins.
And I will bear you strong sons and you will become the headman of
your own village in time.’

‘You have it all
worked out,’ said Conrad.

She brushed his nose.
‘The winters in Livonia are long and hard and there is plenty of
time to think.’

They walked on
snow-cleared paths under a clear-blue sky and made plans for their
future together. It was a happy time and war and death seemed far
away. The north tower had a completed second floor and the
foundations of the gatehouse had been built on. Wenden continued to
grow, a physical indication of the rising power of the Sword
Brothers and the defeat of paganism.

*****

Nigul stared out to
sea, his blue eyes ringed with red from the bitter wind that was
blowing from the north. He wrapped his fur-lined cloak made from
the hide of a brown bear around his shoulders, his head covered by
a fur-lined cap. Despite the layers of clothing he could not get
warm. It was the bitterest winter he could remember in all his
sixty years, made more unsavoury by the corpses that littered the
beach. The sea along the shore had frozen, the light brown sand
being fringed by a band of white ice that extended out for at least
a hundred paces before the black waters of the Baltic began. Some
of his people had attempted to flee to safety across the ice but
had fallen through it and drowned in the raw sea, but most had been
butchered on the beach. His men were going among the bodies to see
if any still lived but he knew it was a fruitless search.

The crusaders had
struck north from Treiden, moving across the frozen landscape with
their Liv allies to enter western Saccalia and then Rotalia where
they divided into small groups to attack villages. They came to
burn, kill and steal and they carried out their aims with ruthless
efficiency before disappearing before he could organise an
effective response. Now all he could do was bury the dead.