Castellan (9 page)

‘My people desire peace,’ said Koit. ‘For too long their land has been used as a plaything by barbarians.’

Rudolf seized his chance. ‘In recognition of your assistance to the Sword Brothers, sir, I pledge that Rotalia shall have a treaty of friendship with our order.’

Koit finished his wine. ‘I cannot speak for the whole of Rotalia.’

Rudolf pressed the matter. ‘You said yourself, sir, that Rotalia has been laid waste. Who better to rebuild it than a man who has shed blood for his people, a man who fought by the side of Nigul at Wolf Rock?’

Koit was taken aback. ‘I was your enemy that day.’

Rudolf stood and offered his hand to Koit. ‘Then let us now be friends, sir. Will you also have the friendship and support of the Sword Brothers, who pledge to stand by
your
side against the Oeselians and Danes?’

Koit turned to Conrad.

‘What would you advise, son of the forest wolf?’

‘Master Rudolf is a man of honour,’ answered Conrad, ‘whose fearlessness in battle is matched by his honesty off it.’

Koit smiled to himself and stood before clasping Rudolf’s forearm.

‘So be it.’

Thus did Rotalia fall to the Sword Brothers, though the conquest was not to be at the point of a sword but by persuasion and goodwill.

Afterwards Rudolf asked Conrad to remain as the others went back to their tents. Wenden’s master was in an ebullient mood. He poured Conrad a cup of wine and held his own cup up to toast him.

‘You have done damn well, Conrad, and if it was in my power to lavish you with lands and titles I would do so, but alas our vow of poverty forbids it.’

‘I have done nothing, master,’ replied Conrad, somewhat perplexed.

Rudolf pointed at him. ‘On the contrary, the Estonians have taken you to their hearts. Your name and reputation achieves what it would take crusader armies years to achieve.’

Conrad looked into his cup.

‘Something bothers you?’ asked Rudolf. He saw the troubled look on Conrad’s face. ‘Speak freely.’

‘Rotalia follows the pagan religion, master. If we try to impose the teachings of the Holy Church on its people there will be great resentment.’

‘There will be no imposition, Conrad,’ Rudolf assured him. ‘We will follow the example of Sir Richard in Saccalia and use time and the hand of friendship to achieve our aims. And now, if you will excuse me, I have to consult with Brother Lukas. We take ship tomorrow. And Conrad.’

‘Yes, master?’

‘We will be leaving some of your men behind to guard the horses. But make sure you bring that Estonian girl along with you.’

‘Her name is Kaja, master.’

‘Good, it is very important she accompanies us.’

Kaja was delighted when Conrad informed her that she would be among those going to Oesel and after the evening meal spent a long time cleaning her sword, scabbard and helmet. Conrad would have preferred she stay with Sir Richard’s Saccalian levies and members of the Army of the Wolf who would remain to guard the horses and ponies. The number of men crossing the sea to Oesel was to be a thousand, plus one woman.

The next morning they assembled on the white sand as the crews of the boats hauled their vessels into the calm Baltic and waited for their passengers to board. There were over a hundred single-masted boats in the water, all clinker-built vessels with planks hand split from green logs and fastened together with leather. The hulls were coated with tar to keep them watertight and the sails were hand woven from hides.

Conrad, Hans and Anton travelled in the company of Kaja, Hillar and Koit, who was most anxious to see how the Sword Brothers would fight without their famed warhorses. As the crew pushed the boat out to sea to begin the journey to Oesel, Hans and Anton began peering to port and starboard.

‘If we get caught on the open sea by a fleet of longships we’ll be in trouble,’ said a worried Hans.

‘The Oeselian warships are blockading Matsalu Bay and Reval,’ Koit reassured him, staring at the blonde-haired woman sitting on a chest clutching the Sword Brothers’ flag. ‘We will be on Oesel before they can be alerted. Let us hope we have enough space on the boats to evacuate all the Danes.’

Anton laughed. ‘Hopefully all the Danes will be dead by the time we reach them.’

Koit was surprised by the venom in his voice.

‘You dislike the Danes?’

‘They were responsible for the death of our friend,’ said Conrad, who turned the axe in his hand.

‘He was killed at the Pala,’ said Hans.

‘And others among the men of iron think like you?’ asked Koit.

Conrad nodded.

‘Then why do you go to save them?’

Conrad, Hans and Anton looked at him with blank expressions.

The light breeze and calm waters made for a pleasant trip, the sun turning the early morning sea shiny grey. The boats, which were steered by a single hand-held oar at the rear, gradually formed a long line of vessels as they headed northwest towards Oesel.

‘We are heading for the strait between Muhu and Oesel,’ Koit informed the brother knights, ‘an island adjacent to Oesel. We will sail up the strait between the two islands before landing near where the Danes are besieged. Because of the favourable wind and tides there will be no need to land on Muhu itself.’

He pointed ahead. ‘The navigator and scouts are in the lead vessel with Master Rudolf, the leader of the men of iron.’

‘He is deputy commander of our order,’ said Conrad. ‘The leader of the Sword Brothers is at Riga.’

‘Why is he not here?’ asked Koit.

‘There is sickness in Riga,’ Hans informed him. ‘No one may leave the city.’

‘The Danes blockade Riga just as the Oeselians strangle Reval,’ said Anton. ‘Another reason to hope that they have all perished on Oesel.’

Conrad turned the axe once more. Hopefully Count Henry would also be among those besieged. Then he would have another opportunity to exact revenge on the German lord for the death of Johann.

After the initial concern about Oeselian longships the gently rocking of the boat, the pleasant breeze and the warming sun had a calming effect and soon the brother knights were lying on deck relaxing. Their shields, helmets, swords, maces, axe and crossbows were stacked against the gunwale as the crew went about their business.

‘Do you both realise that this is the first time we have been at sea since we arrived in Livonia,’ said Hans. ‘It seems like yesterday.’

‘You were a lot thinner then,’ Anton reminded him. ‘I thought you would not survive the journey.’

‘Perhaps we won’t survive this journey,’ remarked Hans glumly.

But after an hour the boats reached the strait between Oesel and Muhu, fish eagles swooping overhead as the vessels headed into the passage of water that was around two miles in width. The boats hugged the shoreline of Oesel as they sailed north. The brother knights stirred themselves as the crew prepared a sparse meal of sausage, bread, salted fish and water. Koit sat with the three, Hillar and Kaja as they ate their meal.

‘Another hour, perhaps longer,’ said Koit, ‘and then you will be feasting with the Oeselians.’

‘We’ve beaten them before,’ said Conrad.

‘Hiller informed me that you fought a single combat with Prince Sigurd,’ said Koit, ‘eldest son of Olaf.’

Conrad stuffed a piece of salted herring into his mouth and nodded.

‘And defeated him,’ said Kaja with pride.

‘And let him live,’ stated Koit.

Conrad nodded again.

‘
Susi
is merciful,’ added Kaja.

‘You may live to regret that decision, son of the forest wolf,’ remarked Koit.

‘How many can we get on this boat?’ asked Conrad, changing the subject.

Like the others it was some forty-five feet in length and had a width of just over eleven feet. It seemed large and accommodating but there were only six of them plus five crewmen.

‘Twenty passengers, perhaps one or two more,’ answered Koit. ‘But no horses or ponies.’

‘Valdemar will have to leave his warhorses behind,’ said Conrad, prompting him and his two friends to burst out laughing. Koit looked at Hillar in confusion. They did not know that a warhorse was a symbol of a knight’s status and to abandon it was both shameful and expensive. Koit thought their behaviour most strange.

It was just before midday when crews in the boats in front used red flags to signal that they had reached their destination. The message was relayed to the boats behind as Conrad and his colleagues strapped on their swords, Anton and Hans tucking their maces into their belts and Conrad likewise his axe. Then they loaded their crossbows and knelt by the gunwale at the prow of the boat, Kaja, now helmeted, kneeling beside them.

The boat swung sharply to port to head towards a long shingle beach and a seemingly unending forest of pine beyond. Conrad scanned the beach and saw no sign of enemy activity.

‘That forest could be full of enemy warriors,’ hissed Anton, reading Conrad’s mind.

They were perhaps two hundred paces from the beach, the other boats now either side of their own in a long line. In each one crossbowmen knelt with loaded weapons ready to shoot at any Oeselians that showed their faces. Conrad rested his crossbow against the gunwale and held out his arm, palm down. Hans and Anton placed their own hands on top of his as Kaja scrambled to form a fourth spoke of the wheel.

‘As dust to the wind,’ said Conrad.

‘As dust to the wind,’ the others answered.

They returned to their positions, the brother knights putting on their helms as they rested their fingers against crossbow triggers and waited. There was absolute silence – no wind, no cries of seagulls, nothing – as it took what seemed like an eternity for the boats to reach the shore. Hillar was crouched low against the gunwale, Koit beside him. Then the bottom of the hull scraped the pebbles under the water and a single voice pierced the air.

‘God with us!’

Seconds later cheers and shouts answered the rally as men jumped into the water and scrambled ashore. It was a mad rush of warriors, brother knights, sergeants and mercenaries, the latter initially standing to shoot their crossbows over the heads of the invaders if required. Conrad left his crossbow on board, leapt over the gunwale and splashed into the water, losing his footing on loose pebbles and falling head first into the sea. Hans hauled him to his feet and dragged him forward, Conrad regaining his footing as he stepped on to the beach and raced on, sword in hand and shield held before him as a defence against enemy missiles. All along the shingle men raced to the treeline – twenty paces from the water – and rushed into the forest. And then stopped as they realised that there was no enemy among the trees.

Conrad retrieved his crossbow and quickly gathered his warlords around him as Rudolf and Sir Richard organised their respective contingents. As they did so the boat crews pushed their vessels back into the water where they would drop anchor and wait for the army to return. If it returned.

There were no horn calls or trumpet blasts. Everyone knew the plan: land on the beach two miles from the bay where the Danes had landed and march across land to the Danish camp. Speed was of the essence as a thousand men tramping through a forest, many of them dressed in white surcoats and carrying white shields, would make a lot of noise and would be impossible to disguise.

Priests walked up and down the line, voicing encouragement as commanders barked orders at their men to get into position. As agreed at the council of war the day before the Army of the Wolf formed the centre: Harrien, Rotalians and Tonis’ wolf shields standing shoulder to shoulder and reinforced by the order’s mercenary crossbowmen. On the right, the place of honour, stood the brother knights of Wenden, Segewold and Kremon, together with fifty-five sergeants equipped with crossbows and a hundred and fifty Jerwen warriors led by Andres. To the left of Conrad’s warriors were Sir Richard and his knights, Saccalian levies and another fifty-five sergeants shouldering crossbows.

Master Rudolf led his wing forward and the rest of the army followed. Conrad, his crossbow armed, turned to Kaja holding the banner.

‘Whatever happens, stay close.’

Leatherface, on the right of Hans, grinned mischievously.

‘Don’t you worry, Brother Conrad, if you are killed I’ll take good care of her.’

Kaja sneered at the lecherous mercenary. ‘I can take care of myself.’

At first the going was hard as they moved through the trees, men tripping on bushes and roots and snapping dead branches underfoot. The sounds were accompanied by low grunts and curses and Conrad had no doubt that the enemy would be alerted to their presence long before they came into view. But after half a mile or so of slow progress the pines gave way to a forest of ancient oaks, the trees widely spaced with long grass between them. This made visibility as well as movement easier and the pace picked up. Beautiful yellow and purple orchids were crushed underfoot as the army tramped towards the enemy.

There was a palpable sense of tension in the air that increased with every step taken. Far from the pace increasing it actually slackened as men took care where they placed their feet and peered ahead into the trees to discern any movement. A deer broke cover and darted away, fraying everyone’s nerves further. But the mercenaries and sergeants, old hands who had spent years campaigning in Livonia, did not shoot any quarrels.