The Sword Brothers (114 page)

As the intention was
to talk rather than fight neither party carried lances as a sign of
goodwill. Conrad rode beside the bishop in his armour and helm,
sword at his hip and axe dangling from his saddle, just in case.
The Russians then appeared from behind the line of wagons that had
been placed around the fort following the arrival of the relief
force. They looked magnificent in their gleaming lamellar armour,
red cloaks and gilded helmets. Three figures rode at the head of
the group, two wearing the uniforms of rich Russian boyars, the
third in boots, brown leggings, fur-lined jacket and cap and ragged
cloak. He was clearly neither a soldier nor a noble.

The Russians halted
some twenty paces from the bishop, who wore his mitre on his head
and a gold cross around his neck. He carried no weapons but sat
tall in the saddle and his rich attire marked him out as a figure
of authority. The Russian in the centre of the group took off his
helmet. He had a handsome face, though it was etched with worry and
fatigue.

‘I am Domash
Tverdislavich, mayor of Pskov and commander of the army before
Odenpah,’ he said in Estonian.

‘Take off your helmet,
Conrad,’ said the bishop, ‘so that we may hear your words.’

Conrad did so and
announced the Russian’s name and position to his party.

‘I am Theodoric,
Bishop of Estonia,’ he held out a hand to the others beside
him.

‘This is Grand Master
Volquin, commander of the Sword Brothers, Sir Richard Bruffingham,
an English knight who leads the crusaders that have come to
Odenpah, and Chief Kalju, Lord of all Ungannia, the land you
currently trespass upon.’

That pleased Kalju
because he smiled triumphantly at Domash.

‘These are my senior
officers,’ said the governor of Pskov curtly. ‘You requested this
meeting, bishop, so I await your words.’

The bishop smiled
politely. ‘Not my words, governor, but the words of the prince of
this land.’

He smiled again, this
time at Kalju.

‘It is quite simple,’
said the chief, ‘I demand that you leave my kingdom
immediately.’

Domash tried hard not
to laugh in the chief’s face but before he could answer the bishop
spoke.

‘To do so would profit
Novgorod enormously.’

Domash was suspicious
of this priest who was head of a fictitious bishopric. That said,
his army was severely depleted and his allies had deserted him. He
could not afford to mount another assault against the fort for fear
it would result in the destruction of his army. But if he continued
with the siege he risked further desertions as his men rotted in
the snow.

‘How so?’

‘Ungannia is an ally
of Livonia,’ replied the bishop. ‘That being the case, Novgorod’s
goods can, with Lord Kalju’s permission, be transported through his
kingdom and then by boat down the Gauja, a river now controlled by
the Sword Brothers.’

‘The goods of Novgorod
travel along the Dvina,’ said Domash dismissively.

The bishop turned to
Conrad. ‘Make sure you translate the next bit accurately. It is
very important.’

‘Yes, lord
bishop.’

‘The Dvina is also
controlled by the Sword Brothers,’ continued the bishop. ‘If you do
not withdraw from Ungannia the Sword Brothers will deny the use of
both rivers to the merchants of Novgorod. It is your choice, mayor.
Take advantage of the hand of friendship offered to you by the
Sword Brothers or see the trade of Novgorod, and Pskov,
suffer.’

‘The coffers of Riga
would also suffer,’ retorted Domash.

The bishop brought his
hands together. ‘Riga is God’s town, mayor, established in His
name. It is a holy place not a pit of money lenders.’

Domash regarded the
bishop for a moment. Was he pretending or making promises he could
not keep? The fur trade with Riga alone was worth a fortune and had
made Novgorod rich. If that trade was interrupted or halted then
Mstislav’s wrath would be mighty indeed. But the prince wanted
Odenpah. But at the expense of risking trade with Riga?

‘I will need a few
moments with my officers,’ said Domash.

‘Of course,’ replied
the bishop.

The Russians retreated
out of earshot. The bishop and Kalju had hatched their plan after
Thaddeus had planted the seed of the idea in Theodoric’s mind.
Kalju had agreed that he would allow Russian merchants to travel
through his kingdom unmolested, in return for which the
Novgorodians would agree to respect Ungannia’s borders, which meant
no further raids. Ungannia would become an ally of Livonia, though
the bishop avoided any discussion of Kalju marching against Lembit
and the other Estonian chiefs when Bishop Albert returned from
Germany in the spring. Of course the whole plan would disintegrate
if the Russians rejected the proposal, attacked the fort and put
all those inside to the sword. But if they were martyred, the
bishop told Kalju, the Sword Brothers would halt all Russian trade
along the Dvina and Gauja and wage unceasing war upon Novgorod. It
was a daring plan, especially as the crossbowmen and archers had no
more ammunition and there was only two days’ food left in the
fort.

After explaining what
the bishop was proposing Domash asked Yaroslav and Gleb for their
opinions.

‘Can we trust them?’
asked Yaroslav.

‘The bishop is a man
of God,’ said Domash.

‘I wouldn’t put much
stock in that,’ sneered Gleb.

‘The prince would not
wish for Novgorod’s trade with the Catholics to be endangered,’
said Yaroslav, ‘not for the sake of a hill fort.’

Domash nodded. ‘I am
apt to agree with you. But we cannot retreat without the enemy
making concessions also.’

‘What concessions?’
enquired Gleb.

Domash tapped his
nose. ‘Let’s see if this bishop has the courage of his
convictions.’

They returned to face
the bishop, everyone in both parties pulling their cloaks about
them as the wind picked up to increase the chill.

‘We will retreat from
Ungannia,’ stated Domash, ‘on condition that the Sword Brothers
also leave the kingdom.’

Conrad translated the
words and a look of triumph spread across the bishop’s face. Kalju
sat expressionless and Volquin looked relieved.

‘In addition,’
continued Domash, looking at Theodoric, ‘you will accompany me back
to Novgorod where you can pledge the agreement regarding the
passage of trade through Ungannia and along the Gauja to Prince
Mstislav himself.’

‘Impossible,’ spat Sir
Richard, ‘tell this barbarian that we will fight him today, on this
ground, rather than meekly submit to his outrageous demands.’

Domash did not
understand the words but he fathomed the raised voice and
thunderous look from the mailed knight by the side of Kalju. Domash
tilted his head towards Sir Richard.

‘What did he say?’ he
asked Conrad.

‘Sir Richard believes
that if the bishop goes with you his life will be in danger.’

Domash looked hurt. He
looked directly at the bishop. ‘We are not barbarians. You will be
treated as an honoured guest and not as a condemned criminal. This
I pledge as a member of the Tverdislavich family.’

Volquin looked most
alarmed. ‘I would advise against such a course of action, lord
bishop.’

‘And if I accede to
your demands,’ Theodoric said to Domash, ‘you and your army will
leave Ungannia?’

‘I give you my word,’
stated Domash.

‘I believe that this
is one of those moments in life that requires a leap of faith,’
said the bishop calmly. ‘Conrad, inform the mayor that I will
travel with him to Novgorod to arrange terms with his prince.’

Sir Richard was
vehemently against the notion but his warnings were brushed away by
the bishop. Theodoric knew that he ventured into the unknown but
also knew that he had saved hundreds of souls inside Odenpah, and
that alone was worth the sacrifice of his life if the Lord so
decreed.

‘My life is in God’s
hands,’ he told Sir Richard, ‘where it has always been.’

The formalities over,
the two parties left each other. On the ride back to camp Domash
breathed a huge sigh of relief. He had snatched a victory of sorts
from the jaws of defeat and could return to Novgorod with the
promise of a new trade route to the west.

Sir Richard was still
grumbling when the bishop’s party dismounted inside the main gates.
Rudolf, Bertram and Mathias were informed of the agreement that had
been reached, all surprised and concerned about Theodoric’s
impending journey. But the bishop waved away their worries. Kalju
was all smiles. His great gamble had paid off: he had preserved his
kingdom. Better still, his alliance with the Sword Brothers
promised to halt Russian incursions into Ungannia.

‘I never thought he
would do it,’ Thaddeus said to Rudolf as they stood watching the
bishop trying to calm Sir Richard. He looked up at the battlements
crowded with warriors and Christian soldiers, then at the walls of
the inner stronghold thronged with women and children. ‘No
ammunition left, almost no food left, half the garrison either
sick, dead or wounded and he convinces the enemy to retreat. Some
would say it’s a miracle.’

Rudolf smiled.
‘Perhaps, Master Thaddeus, perhaps.’

‘Well,’ said Thaddeus,
‘I best start dismantling my machines for the journey back to
Wenden.’

He shook hands with
Rudolf and ambled off to offer his congratulations to the bishop as
a tangible wave of relief swept through the fort.

‘Brother Rudolf,’
Conrad called as he led his horse back to the stables.

‘Conrad?’

‘
Master
Rudolf,
apologies,’ said Conrad.

‘I’m still getting
used to the title myself. Congratulations, your translation skills
have paid dividends, it seems.’

‘The commander of the
Russian army,’ said Conrad, glancing at the new master.

‘What of him?’ queried
Rudolf.

Conrad looked at the
burn scars on the older man’s neck. ‘His name is Domash
Tverdislavich. I remember that name being mentioned a while
ago.’

Rudolf displayed no
emotion. ‘So he is still spreading misery and death.’

‘He is the mayor of
Pskov, so he said.’

‘He rises in the
world,’ said Rudolf.

‘As do you,’ stated
Conrad. ‘Perhaps you are both destined to meet again in battle,
each leading his own army.’

Rudolf laughed.
‘Perhaps you should write poetry instead of wielding a sword.’

‘Lembit has gone,’
said Conrad glumly.

‘Do not worry about
that, brother. He owes Livonia a great debt and the Sword Brothers
will collect it, that I promise.’

Chapter 24

It took three weeks to
get back to Wenden, exhausted draught animals pulling wagons
through deep snow and the occasional blizzard. Many collapsed and
died, forcing the column to abandon valuable items such as Master
Thaddeus’ mangonels, though the engineer himself had been persuaded
to stay at Odenpah, the weather being considered too harsh for his
elderly constitution. At one stage the rate of advance was a mere
three miles a day, a consequence of the inclement weather and the
need to scour the forests for anything to eat, for the garrison of
Odenpah could spare no supplies for the journey.

At the end of the
first week Conrad’s horse collapsed from under him and died. As it
lay in the snow he called to the other brother knights within
earshot and began hacking at the beast with his axe, chopping off
its limbs and head. Soon others joined him and began slicing off
pieces of still-warm flesh, handing it out to individuals who
gathered round the carcass. In this way men could fill their
bellies and stave off the hunger that had begun plaguing them even
before they left Odenpah. Eating raw flesh was an abomination but a
necessary one to preserve life.

Pitching tents in snow
and ice further taxed the crusaders’ strength but was better than
no shelter at all and so at the end of every march camp was
established and men huddled around fires, over which pots filled
with horse blood boiled. Among Sir Richard’s command the young
squires were the first to succumb to fatigue, aside from squire
Paul who was as strong as an ox. The Sword Brothers were fortunate
in having Liv ponies to pull the majority of their wagons. These
beasts, like the Russian
panjes
, were remarkably hardy and
better suited to the climate than horses brought from Germany. But
as the horses of the Sword Brothers and crusaders died a constant
guard had to be placed around the ponies to prevent them being
slaughtered and torn to pieces for food.

The crusaders were
fortunate that they were accompanied by the Sword Brothers, whose
knowledge of local conditions had resulted in them bringing along
large quantities of additional clothing. The brother knights and
sergeants wore woollen underwear, woollen leg wraps beneath their
leggings and thick leather boots on their feet, over which they
wore felt overboots to prevent the leather uppers of their boots
from freezing. They retained their helmets but to save weight
removed their mail armour and loaded it on the carts. By the end of
the second week all of the crusader horses were dead and only the
grand master, masters and a few brother knights still had mounts.
But no one rode them so weakened were they.

By this time the food
had all gone and the carts carried only armour, spare weapons, the
order’s dead to be buried in consecrated ground and the wounded.
The felt capes kept the men of the order warm, their mercenary
spearmen and crossbowmen also having been issued with them, but the
crossbowmen who had travelled from Germany had no cloaks or caps
and they suffered terribly from the cold. Their toes and fingers
became blue and blotchy and hard to the touch. Those who could no
longer walk rode on the wagons, which became increasingly heavy as
more weight was loaded on them.