The Sword Brothers (18 page)

‘Lord Torolf,’ Lembit
said, ‘apologies for the delay. I had an unexpected visitor. I hope
you have been well looked after.’

Torolf placed his left
hand on Lembit’s shoulder. ‘We have been availing ourselves of your
land’s abundance in game. A most enjoyable time.’

Lembit smiled at him.
‘Walk with me.’

They went back into
the hall that was similar to the one at Lehola, albeit smaller, and
sat in chairs while both groups of warriors were served with
refreshments. Lembit and Torolf sat down opposite each other. The
latter was an emissary of the Northern Kurs, a fierce people who
lived south of the Dvina, in the west of Lithuania. He had been at
Fellin for a week, during which time he and Lembit had thrashed out
an alliance between their two peoples.

‘I leave tomorrow,’
said Torolf, ‘and hope to be back in Kurland within the month.
After I have arrived I will finalise the details of our plan with
Duke Arturus and put it in motion.’

Upon hearing of the
defeat of the Sword Brothers Arturus had sent Torolf to Estonia to
meet with Lembit to suggest an alliance, which the latter had
readily agreed to.

‘And if the crusaders
do not march against me?’ asked Lembit.

Torolf smiled
mischievously. ‘These Christians believe that their god is more
powerful than any others. Your defiance is an affront to them and
cannot be ignored. But, to assuage any doubts you may have, even if
they do not make any moves against you the Northern Kurs will still
launch their offensive.’

‘The crusaders will
march against me,’ said Lembit grimly. ‘Their most northerly
stronghold, at Wenden, lies only seventy-five miles from this very
hall.’

Torolf and his men
left the next morning. Lembit escorted them east to the shores of
Lake Peipus, the great inland sea that marked the boundary between
Estonia and Russia. Once in Russian territory they would travel to
Pskov and then southeast to Gerzika before taking boat to travel on
the Dvina west to Kurland. The land was now covered in cow-wheat,
marsh orchids, cotton grass and twinflowers and above them
fluttered beautifully coloured butterflies: the Olive Skipper,
Woodland Brown, Clouded Apollo and Lapland Ringlet. It was a land
of peace and tranquillity soon to be scarred by war.

*****

Conrad stood next to
Hans, both of them clutching lances, and watched as Walter the
Penitent and Henke rode towards each other. The other boys stood
either side of them and likewise held their breath as the two men
in mail armour and riding warhorses thundered towards each other,
their lances held in the ‘couched’ position: under the arm to
steady them.

‘See how they are
holding their lances,’ shouted Lukas behind the boys, ‘to reduce
the amount of flex and increase the accuracy of the lunge.’

Both knights were
wearing full-face helmets and mail suits, though neither was
wearing a surcoat. They both carried shields that protected their
left sides and their horses wore white caparisons bearing the
insignia of the Sword Brothers.

There was a sharp
crack as Walter’s lance hit Henke’s shield and splintered, Rudolf’s
friend receiving a heavy blow but remaining in his saddle. The boys
cheered as the two riders passed each other and Walter rode over to
Conrad, threw down his broken lance shaft and held out his hand to
receive another. Conrad passed him one of the four lances he was
holding and grinned at Walter, who nodded and then wheeled
away.

‘Come on, Henke,’
called Rudolf, who had ambled over to watch the spectacle, ‘make a
fist of it.’

It was a glorious
summer’s day and the castle and compound were bathed in warm
sunlight. The air was sweet with the smell of grass and the ground
was littered with daisies. The boys had eaten their midday meal
after having completed their morning training session and now they
stood on the meadow outside Wenden’s great compound as Walter and
Henke took part in a joust.

Walter and Henke
trotted to their starting positions once more as Lukas continued to
educate his charges.

‘Note how the saddles
have a high pommel and cantle that wrap around the riders. This
holds the rider securely in the saddle and helps to withstand
blows, both in the joust and in battle.’

The two horsemen began
to trot towards each other, breaking into a canter as they couched
their lances.

‘The stirrups are long
so that a rider’s legs are straight as he sits in the saddle,’
shouted Lukas, ‘so he will be in a solid position to fight with a
lance or a sword.’

The horses broke into
a gallop, their riders ensuring they maintained a straight line and
did not veer off course or cross in front of the other jouster.
Once again there was a sharp crack as the lances struck shields,
only his time both weapons broke and because Walter had turned his
shoulder away at the last moment he was knocked from his saddle. He
was thrown onto the turf as his horse raced off. Henke threw down
his lance and rode after the beast – warhorses were far too
valuable to be allowed to wander off into the woods. Expensive to
purchase and maintain, each one consumed fifteen pounds of oats a
day in addition to hay. Fortunately in the summer they could be put
out to pasture, though they still required armed guards to watch
over them when they were outside the compound. They also needed
regular shoeing and daily grooming in addition to the girths,
harnesses and other harnessing equipment they required. Every
brother knight had his own horse, as did Walter, paid for by the
large donation he had given the order before his arrival in
Livonia.

As he dusted himself
off and offered his congratulations to the returned Henke leading
his horse, Walter came over to where Rudolf was talking to
Lukas.

‘Brother Henke is a
most capable jouster,’ he said.

‘He has had a lot of
practise,’ said Rudolf, ‘though in battle rather than on the
jousting fields.’

‘I hope to be able to
fight alongside him against the heathen soon,’ said Walter
solemnly.

‘You will get your
wish,’ replied Lukas. ‘We wait only for the bishop’s arrival to
continue our campaign against the Estonians.’

‘And after them the
Oeselians,’ added Rudolf, smiling at Walter. ‘Plenty of heathens
ready to be sent to Hell.’

‘God willing,’ replied
Walter.

Lukas smiled and shook
his head. He liked Walter, they all did, not only for his religious
zeal but also for his willingness to get his hands dirty. He was
quite prepared to muck out the horses, clean his own armour and
even assist in the building of the castle, though the stonemasons
guarded their domain jealously and would not allow anyone on their
scaffolding that was not properly trained. Walter would have liked
nothing more than to take his vows and join the Sword Brothers on
the day of his arrival at Wenden. But the rules of the order stated
that prospective brother knights had to serve a probationary period
of twelve months before they were considered eligible for
entry.

‘I will be a brother
knight, of course,’ announced Anton a few days later while the boys
were cleaning the mail armour of the brothers. ‘My family is
wealthy and I have had an education. Who among us can read and
write?’

Everyone stopped what
they were doing and looked at each other. Aside from Anton no one
could read or write.

He spread out his
hands. ‘So you see only I have all the qualities required to be a
brother knight. The rest of you will be sergeants.’

‘What’s wrong with
that?’ asked Conrad.

They were in the
castle courtyard, outside the armoury, each of them in charge of a
wooden barrel, inside of which was bran. In each barrel was placed
a hauberk, chausses and coif. The barrel was then sealed, tipped on
its side and rolled around the courtyard a dozen times, the boys
racing each other around the pallets piled high with stone and
trays holding mortar. In this way the bran polished the mail and
the oil in it coated the metal and protected it against rust.

Conrad won the race
and stood panting with his hands on his knees as the others brought
their barrels to a halt beside his.

‘Brother knights ride
down the enemy on the backs of their warhorses,’ said Anton,
rivulets of sweat running down his face, ‘sergeants are servants
who attend the knights and do not really fight.’

‘If that is true,’
queried Hans, gasping for air, ‘then why are we being trained to
fight?’

Anton had no answer to
his question and became irritated when Bruno and Johann insisted on
addressing him as ‘sir’ for the rest of the day.

The bond that had been
forged all those weeks ago on the cog grew stronger as the time
passed. The things they had in common – young men alone in a
foreign land, hard daily training and an all-pervading sense of
adventure – outweighed their differences. In another life Anton
would have looked down on Bruno and Johann and would have viewed
Conrad, the boy whose father had been a murderer, with contempt. He
certainly would have had nothing to do with Hans. But in this
strange land they were equals, judged on their daily efforts rather
than their social status. It was if their lives had been washed
clean to be remade in Livonia.

As well as the sword
and shield Lukas instructed them in the use of the spear, axe and
crossbow, the boys being particularly keen on these items because,
unlike tuition in the use of the sword, they were handed real
weapons with which to practise. The long days meant they spent many
hours training, in the afternoons shooting crossbow bolts at
targets of packed straw, wielding axes or learning spear thrusts,
but the mornings were given over to the sword and shield. Always
the sword and shield.

‘Keep moving,’ Lukas
bellowed at his charges as they practised thrusting with a spear.
‘Just because it’s a spear does not mean you have to stand still.
You stop moving, you die. How many times do I have to tell
you?’

Just for good measure
he walked among them with a waster in his hand, administering a
sharp blow to the hamstrings or back of anyone still
stationary.

The boys had been at
Wenden for four months now and even in that short time the constant
training and hearty diet had made them stronger and more agile.
Hans still looked as though he had gone without food for a month
but now he had a lithe rather than a gaunt appearance. His eyes
were bright and alert and his hair thick rather than straggly.

‘They look like a pack
of ravenous wolves,’ remarked Rudolf who was leading his horse
prior to undertaking a patrol with a dozen mounted sergeants. He
held the reins of a palfrey, one of a score of such well-bred
mounts that were used for patrols and general riding. The great
warhorses were used for battle and though they were ridden around
the castle to keep them in rude health, they were far too valuable
for general-purpose riding.

‘They are coming along
nicely,’ replied Lukas. ‘I might let them have their own swords
next year. The bishop should be arriving soon.’

Every castle had a
loft full of pigeons that were used to carry messages between each
castle and Riga. In this way news could be relayed to an outpost in
a few hours rather than days or even weeks. Wenden was no different
and had been alerted by courier pigeon that Bishop Albert and his
army were on their way from Riga.

‘Perhaps this year we
will finally rid the world of Lembit and his Estonian heathens,’
continued Lukas, nodding at the boys thrusting with their spears.
‘Perhaps they will need ploughs instead of weapons.’

‘You really think
that, Lukas?’ asked Rudolf.

‘Why not? The Livs and
Letts have been subdued. Why not the Estonians?’

Rudolf placed his foot
in the stirrup and then hoisted himself into the saddle. ‘Even if
we defeat Lembit there remain the Russians to be dealt with, in
addition to the Oeselians. I think these boys will spend a good few
years yet holding swords rather than ploughs.’

He raised a hand to
Lukas and then trotted towards the compound’s entrance, his men
following. A week later Bishop Albert arrived.

Conrad and his
companions had never seen so much colour and splendour as when the
bishop’s army made camp at Wenden. A forest of tents sprang up
around the castle, many topped by pennants bearing heraldic symbols
from Saxony, Thuringia and Franconia where the crusaders had been
drawn from. Conrad saw shields and banners sporting eagles, bells,
trumpets, lions, wolves, bears, boars, oxen and stags. Horses wore
caparisons bearing strange beasts that he had never heard of: white
unicorns with a single horn and cloven hooves like a deer; and blue
griffins that had the head, chest, wings and forelegs of an eagle
with the hindquarters and legs of a lion. Other shields bore the
images of fantastic sea creatures: yellow half-fish, half-lions,
red half-fish and half-horses. Brightly coloured banners fluttered
in the breeze showing black and silver serpents and lizards, with
armoured knights bearing fierce red dragons on their surcoats.
Other knights had heraldic symbols of three animal heads on their
shields, such as bulls, griffins and boars.

The bishop’s army was
a most impressive sight and the boys were agreed that no force on
earth would be able to withstand it. Bishop Albert himself came not
as a man of peace but as a scourge of the heathen, dressed as he
was in mail armour, full-face helmet surmounted by a metal bishop’s
mitre painted white and bearing a silver cross on the front, red
surcoat adorned with Riga’s twin key symbol and a red shield
painted with the same motif. He rode a great warhorse whose
caparison also sported the twin keys symbol. The twenty knights who
formed his bodyguard were armed and attired in a similar fashion,
as were his sergeants, though they wore kettle helmets instead of
the full-face variety. These were German lords and their vassals
who had settled in and around Riga and who willingly joined the
bishop in his crusade to rid Livonia and Estonia of pagans. Also
recruited from in and around Riga were the bishop’s three hundred
militia spearmen and three hundred crossbowmen, though the latter
were actually mercenaries in the pay of the church who were
billeted in the city’s castle. Like most German towns and cities
Riga was administratively divided into quarters, each one
responsible for raising, equipping and drilling a certain number of
men. Though prosperous through trade and donations Riga was not yet
wealthy enough to raise and equip both spearmen and crossbowmen. A
spearman alone required a large shield, mail armour, helmet, sword,
dagger and spear, in addition to food while on campaign. The
spearmen of Riga’s garrison remained in the town to protect the
archdeacon.