The Sword Brothers (12 page)

‘Ah, Grand Master
Volquin and Brother Rudolf. Please, be seated.’

Archdeacon Stefan held
out a hand to the two well-furnished chairs placed in front of his
desk and smiled at his two guests. The audience chamber of the
bishop’s palace was a sumptuous place, its stone windows softened
with cushions and fabrics and the walls covered with oak panelling.
Behind the archdeacon’s desk was a magnificent stone fireplace,
above which was a large painting depicting Bishop Albert kneeling
on the soil of Livonia and giving thanks to the Lord for his safe
arrival. The bishop’s palace was located adjacent to the castle and
was one of the first stone buildings to have been built in Livonia.
It had begun as a modest structure but had been expanded to include
a great hall, audience chamber, withdrawing chamber, bedrooms,
kitchens, courtyard, stables and storerooms. When the bishop was
away his nephew the archdeacon was left in charge.

Archdeacon Stefan was,
like his uncle, a member of the Buxhoeveden family, one of the
oldest noble families of Europe originally from Saxony. And though
he had taken the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience as
required by his religious position, he was also very aware of his
own and his family’s power and influence. Reflecting his position
he wore a rich white dalmatic and a gold pectoral cross, with a
gold ring on his finger. His eyes darted left and right as he
observed Volquin and Rudolf take their seats.

‘Some refreshment,
perhaps?’ he offered, clicking his fingers at a young man, a
fresh-faced youth in a white habit standing by a table covered with
a linen sheet. He picked up a silver tray holding drinking vessels
and brought it over, holding it out to the archdeacon first.

‘Thank you, Brother
Thomas,’ said Stefan, a flash of desire in his eyes.

Brother Thomas then
placed silver-gilt wine flagons before Volquin and Rudolf before
returning to the table to fetch a jug. He then proceeded to fill
the flagons with wine.

‘I heard about your
unfortunate incident with the Oeselians,’ Stefan said to Rudolf,
‘but I am glad to see that you are unharmed. You have returned with
reinforcements?’

Rudolf nodded.
‘Mercenaries and stonemasons, archdeacon, plus a handful of
boys.’

Stefan’s eyes lit up.
‘Boys?’

‘Unfortunates and
those sent by their families to serve God against the heathens,’
answered Rudolf. ‘I am hopeful that they will make fine
soldiers.’

‘We have too few of
those, I fear,’ remarked Stefan casually. He looked at Volquin. ‘To
which end, grand master, I have asked you here to ascertain if the
Sword Brothers can spare any men to reinforce the garrison of
Riga.’

‘Impossible,’ replied
Volquin. ‘To strip any garrison of men would be to fatally weaken
it.’

‘It is as Grand Master
Volquin says,’ added Rudolf.

Stefan began tracing a
finger around the rim of his flagon. ‘It is my responsibility to
ensure the safety of Riga in the bishop’s absence. With the
Oeselians ever more troublesome and the Estonians at war with us,
to say nothing of the Lithuanians, Riga is threatened on all
sides.’

Rudolf raised an
eyebrow. ‘The Lithuanians?’

Stefan waved a hand at
him. ‘Just rumours that one of their leaders, Prince Stecse, is
raising an army that he intends to bring across the Dvina in order
to assault Riga.’

Rudolf looked at
Stefan with contempt. The Lithuanians infested the lands south of
the River Dvina but mainly kept themselves to themselves. They
formed a loose confederation of tribes that were mostly bickering
and fighting among themselves, giving the crusaders a free hand to
conquer the tribes north of the river. But now river gossip had
reached the ears of the archdeacon, who was clearly terrified that
Riga would be attacked and his luxurious living disturbed.

‘The most pressing
threat lies to the north,’ said Volquin, like Rudolf unimpressed by
rumour. ‘Lembit has united all the tribes of Estonia and now seeks
nothing less than the conquest of all Livonia to make himself king
of all the lands north of the Dvina.’

‘To which end,
archdeacon,’ said Rudolf, sipping his wine, ‘it would be more
prudent to reinforce Wenden rather than reduce its garrison. I was
hoping that I might take some of Riga’s soldiers with me when I
journey north later today.’

Stefan nearly choked
on his drink. ‘Take Riga’s soldiers? No, no, not at all. That will
not do at all. I have barely enough men to defend the town as it
is. The great majority of last year’s crusaders have returned to
Germany. All I have left are the bishop’s soldiers and a few
mercenaries.’

Volquin sighed. ‘Three
hundred of the bishop’s soldiers in addition to a further two
hundred mercenaries that make up the garrison and a hundred
remaining crusaders constitutes a more than adequate force, I
think.’

Stefan jumped up out
of his chair and shook his head with alarm. ‘And if a fleet of
Oeselian ships sails up the Dvina and the Lithuanians cross the
river to attack Riga I will need every one of them. I cannot spare
a single man.’

Stefan’s eyes narrowed
as he looked at Rudolf. ‘You said that you have brought stonemasons
back with you?’

Rudolf nodded.

Stefan regained his
chair. ‘Well, then, those combined with the ones already at Wenden
will be able to make the castle’s walls strong enough to resist a
pagan attack.’

‘The construction of
the castle has been going on for barely two years, archdeacon,’
protested Rudolf. ‘It will be many more before the work is
finished.’

Stefan held up a hand
to him. ‘The bishop will be here in three months, God willing, and
will bring with him a great army of crusaders that he will use to
crush Lembit and the rabble that follows him. Of that you can be
certain.’

‘But if Lembit attacks
Wenden before then, archdeacon,’ reasoned Rudolf, ‘the garrison
will be hard-pressed.’

Stefan was
uninterested. ‘Ill-armed pagans cannot take a Christian fortress,
Brother Rudolf. God will not allow it.’

Rudolf was tempted to
say that if the archdeacon believed that then there was little need
for him to cling to his soldiers at Riga but thought better of
it.

Stefan was now in full
swing. ‘Which brings me neatly to matters of strategy, Grand Master
Volquin.’ He brought his hands together in front of him. ‘The
recent, unfortunate reverse at the hands of Lembit was the result
of over-ambition and carelessness, of that I have no doubt.’

Volquin’s jaw locked
in anger but he said nothing.

‘So I must ask you,
grand master,’ continued Stefan, ‘to convey to your castellans not
to undertake offensive action on their own volition but to remain
on the defensive until the bishop arrives with his army. After all,
the Sword Brothers are his servants.’

‘Are the castellans
free to undertake defensive action, archdeacon?’ asked Rudolf
mischievously.

Stefan was confused.
‘Defensive action?’

Rudolf began to enjoy
himself. ‘Yes. For example, if Wenden is attacked is the garrison
free to defend itself or should it wait for the bishop’s army
before it acts.’

Stefan was not amused.
‘I would have thought the answer was obvious. The Lord does not
look kindly upon those who treat His work with levity, Brother
Rudolf.’

Rudolf restrained
himself from laughing. ‘No, archdeacon, of course not.’

Stefan frowned at
Rudolf before turning his attention to Volquin. ‘I would ask you to
write to your castellans to remain on the defensive until the
bishop arrives, Grand Master Volquin.’

Volquin smiled through
gritted teeth. ‘I shall despatch letters this very day,
archdeacon.’

After the meeting he
walked with Rudolf back to the castle. ‘Lembit will attack in great
strength before the bishop arrives,’ he said glumly. He looked at
Rudolf. ‘And when he does the first blow will fall on Wenden.’

Ever since their
establishment the strategy of the Sword Brothers had been to storm
the hill forts of the pagans prior to building stone castles on
those sites. In this way Christian control of the countryside could
be established and expanded. Settlers were then enticed from
Germany who cleared the forests to plough their fields and sow
their crops while the local garrison of Sword Brothers provided
security. As more castles were built more land came under Christian
control. That was the theory at least.

‘Even though its
castle is less than half-built,’ replied Rudolf, ‘Wenden is strong
enough to resist assault. I am more concerned about the loyalty of
the Livonians.’

Volquin shrugged.
‘They have received baptism and are faithful.’

‘As long as we stay
strong,’ said Rudolf.

‘Ever the realist,
Rudolf. Please convey my regards to Master Berthold when you arrive
back at Wenden.’

‘I will grand master.
Would that you were in command at Riga instead of the
archdeacon.’

‘He is the bishop’s
nephew so I have to tolerate him, much as one would put up with a
toothache. But I agree with you concerning the next Estonian
attack. It will undoubtedly be against Wenden. Alas I have no
forces to send back with you.’

‘Then the sooner I get
back there the better,’ Rudolf replied.

Fortunately for Conrad
and his youthful companions they had no knowledge of Estonians or
Lithuanians as they helped load the wagons assembled in the castle
courtyard with food, tools, weapons and tents prior to their
journey to Wenden.

‘Where is Wenden?’
asked Hans.

‘I do not know,’
replied Conrad as he and his friend finished packing tent poles
onto a four-wheeled wagon.

‘It is the home of
Rudolf and Henke,’ said Anton, with Bruno’s help heaving a vat of
salted meat onto another wagon.

‘Hopefully it will be
as grand as this castle,’ added Johann, struggling with a handful
of tent poles.

‘As long as its
granary and storerooms are well stocked I do not mind where it is
or how big it is,’ remarked Hans, prompting laughter from the
others. Hans had never known a time in his short life when he had
had regular meals and he could not have been happier.

They left just after
midday, three four-wheeled wagons piled high with supplies, each
one pulled by a single horse, and half a dozen smaller two-wheeled
carts hauled by mules carrying weapons, armour and crossbow bolts.
The wagons, carts and their civilian drivers were in the pay of the
Sword Brothers, as were the riverboats that would take Rudolf and
his party to Wenden.

The area around Riga
was flat and had been cleared of trees so the land could be
cultivated. Small settlements of farmers’ wooden homes dotted the
landscape but as the party trudged north the fields disappeared and
were replaced by forests of thick spruce and pine. Everyone walked
by the side of the wagons, apart from the children who were allowed
to ride next to the drivers, and so the pace was slow. Conrad had
never seen so many trees and after a while their towering presence
began to unnerve him. Everyone was walking in silence, the only
sound being the clanking of cooking utensils hanging from the
wagons and the jangling of the harnesses on the mules and
horses.

The air was suddenly
filled with an unearthly wail coming from the forest and everyone
stopped and stared in the direction it had come from. There was
another long wail that cut through air, the children began to cry
and the mothers ran to their offspring in alarm.

‘It is just an elk,’
shouted Rudolf, ‘nothing to be alarmed about.’

Hans looked at Conrad.
‘It sounds like a monster.’

‘They are big, boy,’
said Henke in front of him, ‘but easy enough to kill and they make
a tasty meal.’

The women fussed over
their nervous children as the elk made another call and the journey
re-commenced. Conrad kept glancing at the dark forest on his right.
What other monsters were lurking within its forbidding
interior?

With the rutted track
and the slow pace of the youths, women and stonemasons they made
barely ten miles before Rudolf gave the order to halt and make camp
in a large meadow sited by an even larger lake filled with
crystal-clear, ice-cool water. Rudolf gave instructions that no one
was to drink it, as ingesting the standing water would result in
diarrhoea, stomach cramps and loss of strength, and there was no
room on the wagons to carry sick individuals. The mercenaries
erected their own tents but Rudolf and Henke instructed Conrad and
the other youths to construct their own shelters and those for the
stonemasons and their families. As the shadows lengthened when the
spring sun began to dip in the west Conrad and the others learned
how to erect central poles, ridge poles, tent canopies, ornamental
valances and guy ropes. After they had finished they stood back and
admired the half dozen round tents with sloping sides that they had
pitched, all sporting a pennant on top bearing the insignia of the
Sword Brothers.

Anton pointed to one
of the flags hanging limply in the windless late afternoon air.
‘That is to indicate whose camp this is,’ he said, keen to show off
his knowledge of banners and heraldry.

‘It is to stop birds
roosting on the top of the tent and shitting all over it,’ Henke
corrected him, causing Anton to blush.

After a day of walking
they were beginning to feel tired but Rudolf had another task for
Conrad and his companions when he handed them shovels made of oak
with iron-reinforced bands on the digging end and mattocks. He then
led them a short distance from camp and instructed them to dig
latrine trenches. By the time they had finished they were exhausted
and it was dusk, the camp illuminated by fires that had been lit.
Conrad looked at the black mass of trees that surrounded them on
all sides and shuddered. The forest seemed even more foreboding as
the light faded and the night began to envelop them. Rudolf
organised the rota of sentries to stand guard throughout the night
and then said prayers in front of the entire party, everyone
kneeling with heads bowed. Afterwards the boys ate a hearty meal of
cured meat and bread washed down with ale. Despite his
apprehensions Conrad slept more soundly than he had since that
dreadful night in Lübeck.