The Sword Brothers (30 page)

She placed her
hairbrush on her table. ‘So where does Vetseke fit in with your
grand scheme?’

Vsevolod smiled
cunningly at her. ‘For one thing moving him to Polotsk will get him
away from Gerzika, thus maintaining the illusion that I am an ally
of the bishop. But, more importantly, Vetseke is a Liv not a
Russian, and while he lives he can serve as a rallying figure for
those of his race who live under the crusader heel and who wish to
free themselves of the servants of the heretical Church of
Rome.

‘Just think, how long
will the bishop last with rebellion in his lands and Russian and
Lithuanian armies marching against him?’

Rasa looked at him
affectionately. ‘You have it all worked out, don’t you?’

He shrugged coyly.
‘One does what one can, my sweet.’

Chapter 7

The march to Fellin
began in a snowstorm, a biting northerly wind making Conrad pull
the hood of his cape up and bow his head as he walked with Hans and
the others beside a sleigh loaded with tools. The heads of the
ponies and horses were similarly down as the flecks of snow swirled
around them, severely reducing visibility and making it almost
impossible to convey commands. Not that the Sword Brothers needed
to convey many commands during the march as they maintained strict
discipline even when travelling through friendly territory. Much to
the annoyance of Sir Frederick and his crusaders the Sword Brothers
were placed in the rear and vanguard of the army, the most
vulnerable and dangerous places when on the march. The banner of
the order, a great white flag bearing a red sword and cross, was
held by Henke at the very tip of the army, though as soon as it had
begun to snow it had been wrapped in a waxed sleeve to preserve it
from the wet.

Soon after leaving Sir
Frederick had ridden to the vanguard to enquire why the rate of
advance was so slow. He was informed by Master Berthold that
marching in winter sapped the stamina of both horses and men and
that he desired to arrive at Fellin with all the animals and men in
fighting order, not half-dead or having expired along the route.
The crusaders grumbled in their ranks but had little choice but to
acquiesce in the master’s wishes, as they had no local knowledge.
Their banners and heraldic shields provided a vivid splash of
colour against the brilliant white terrain until the snowstorm
engulfed the column. The rate of advance decreased further when the
brother knights and sergeants dismounted and proceeded on foot. The
crusaders had no choice but to do so likewise.

Conrad was relieved
when the column entered a forest three miles north of Wenden and
the blizzard lessened in severity, though the snow still fell
thickly. They marched through the forest for what seemed an age but
was probably around three hours, the brothers ordering short stops
of between five and ten minutes but no longer, as standing around
in freezing conditions could be fatal. The army covered barely six
miles the first day before Master Berthold gave the order to make
camp next to the southern side of a great forest of firs that
extended east and west for miles. The tents were pitched two
hundred paces from the trees to create an area of open ground
across which any potential attackers could not cross without being
spotted. The march had been relatively easy for Conrad and his
companions, notwithstanding the snow, but their real work began
when the camp was erected. Not only did they have to assist in
putting up the tents, hammering angular steel pegs into the frozen
ground, they were also given axes and saws and sent off into the
forest along with a dozen other parties to cut wood, specifically
the wood of dead fir trees.

‘How did you think we
would make fires?’ asked Lukas as he hacked at the black branches
of a dead tree?’

‘Surely there is
enough firewood and peat at Wenden?’ replied Hans, throwing another
branch onto the rapidly increasing pile of sticks.

‘Food and fuel are
precious commodities,’ said Lukas, ‘especially in winter. Do you
wish the garrison and the families who live there to freeze to
death? To say nothing of the animals?’ He saw Bruno and Anton
chatting. ‘Stop gossiping and start hacking unless you want to
spend the night with no fire.’

The wind dropped as
the light began to fade and the forest reverberated to the sounds
of chopping and sawing as firewood was collected and ferried back
to camp. The tents had all been pitched by now and sergeants and
squires had begun to prepare evening meals. Cooking pots hung
suspended over fires on metal frames as the first batches of wood
were set alight. Lukas instructed Conrad and the others to stop
collecting wood and return to camp as the light in the forest faded
rapidly. Out of the gloom came Thalibald, Rameke and a dozen Liv
warriors carrying shields and spears. Conrad felt inadequate when
Rameke recognised him and strolled beside him as his father walked
ahead with Lukas. He had an armful of dead wood while the son of
the chief was helmeted, wore a mail shirt and carried a spear and
sword. However, the chief’s son was friendly rather than
patronising.

‘Conrad, how are
you?’

‘Tired of cutting
wood. You were scouting?’

Rameke nodded. ‘Not
that there was anything to see apart from trees and snow.’

‘No Estonians?’

Rameke laughed. ‘They
are all inside their homes out of the cold, like I wish I was.’

Conrad was surprised.
‘You do not like the cold?’

‘Of course not. I
would rather be wrapped in furs beside a warm fire.’

‘Like Daina,’ said
Conrad sheepishly.

‘Like
all
women. Their role is to marry, feed their husbands and bear future
warriors. Not that I can imagine anyone wanting to marry my
sister.’

‘She has no suitor?’
asked Conrad evasively.

‘Daina?’ Rameke
laughed out loud, causing his father to turn and scold him for
making too much noise.

‘We are in enemy
territory, boy, not on a summer stroll.’

‘My father will have
to pay a big dowry to get rid of my sister,’ whispered Rameke. ‘Who
would want to marry her?’

Conrad said nothing
but his heart soared and the bundle of firewood he was carrying
seemed as light as a feather. He also forgot about Rudolf’s words
concerning marriage and membership of the Sword Brothers.

The camp was a
sprawling collection of round and oval tents arranged in three
sections. One part comprised the great round tent of Master
Berthold himself, next to which was the chapel tent, in which the
services that were conducted at Wenden and all the other Sword
Brother garrisons could be reciprocated while on campaign. The tent
where the members of the order and their servants ate their meals
was also pitched near the master’s, while the individual tents of
the brother knights ringed them all. Then there were the tents of
the sergeants, crossbowmen, spearmen, engineers and support
personnel. The crusaders and their squires and footmen pitched
their tents around the great portable residence of Sir Frederick,
while Thalibald and his warriors grouped their felt dwellings
around their sleighs and ponies, which like those of the Sword
Brothers slept in the open with blankets on their backs, all
grouped together and shielded by temporary stalls of wood and
canvas. Even though the wind had dropped the night sky was
cloudless and filled by a thousand stars, causing the temperature
to plummet.

Lukas called Conrad
and the other boys together and showed them how to make a fire,
clearing a patch of ground and then taking some tinder from a box
he had brought along and placing it on the ground in a loose pile.
He then placed a small amount of twigs and sticks over it and lit
the tinder using sparks created by striking steel against flint.
Soon the tinder was alight and consuming the twigs and sticks.
Lukas instructed Hans to place bigger sticks on the fire.

‘Not too big otherwise
you’ll smother it.’

After a short while
the fire took hold and logs could be placed on the flames from a
nearby pile.

‘Just keep putting
logs on at regular intervals and it gives out a constant heat all
night,’ said Lukas.

‘Who will do that?’
asked Anton.

‘All of you,’ replied
Lukas. ‘You will take it in turns to keep watch along with everyone
else. Conrad will take the first watch.’

In fact Master
Berthold liaised with Sir Frederick and Thalibald to ensure that
there were sentries posted all around the camp throughout the night
so there was no need for Conrad and the others to stand watch. But
Lukas thought it excellent practice for when they finished their
schooling in arms. That night, at evening prayers in the canvas
chapel, Conrad asked God to care for Daina as well as Marie.

It took nine days to
reach Fellin, nine days of walking along tracks heaped high with
snow, crossing frozen rivers and streams and digging sleighs out of
snow banks. And with each day that passed more and more of the
crusaders’ horses died from the cold. Unused to the severe Latvian
winter and already weakened by their march to Wenden, they
collapsed and expired despite being beaten and whipped by their
owners. They were not the only ones to suffer. Conrad and the other
boys were well equipped with their felt caps and hoods, spare
underwear, leg wraps, tunics, mittens and socks, in addition to
being issued with two pairs of boots, but the squires of the
crusaders suffered terribly from the cold. On the fourth night
Rudolf discovered one dead from exposure, having spent the night
standing guard.

The Sword Brothers and
Thalibald’s warriors used their knowledge of the terrain to
traverse the land with a minimum of difficulty, but the crusaders
wished only to slaughter pagans and had no time for delays, pushing
themselves and their horses to the limit to reach their
destination. They believed that because their horses had been
fitted with winter horseshoes they could ride across the frozen
land with ease and could even cross frozen waterways without a
thought.

‘The horseshoes have
little spikes that give a horse grip on snow and ice,’ remarked
Rameke as he and Conrad stood watching Sir Frederick and his
knights canter across the frozen River Kopu, five miles southwest
of Fellin, ‘but the thickness of river ice can vary and it is not
advisable to ride a host of horses over it thus.’

The Sword Brothers led
their mounts across on foot at widely spaced intervals, the rest of
the army crossing in many widely spaced columns to prevent the ice
cracking. Conrad walked across with Rameke and the other boys
beside the sleighs that carried their tents, tools, food, weapons
and spare clothing, each of them looking left and right at the
shiny surface. The sleigh drivers dismounted and led their ponies
across. Each sleigh carried around five hundred pounds of cargo and
thus it was wise for the driver to alight to lessen the load. To
their right, around fifty paces away, half a dozen shivering
squires were leading a line of pack horses loaded with weapons and
armour across the river.

‘Stop, there’s a
crack!’ shouted Hans, pointing down at the ice.

The sleigh driver
holding the reins of his pony next to him looked at the ice, then
at Hans, shook his head and carried on leading his animal. Conrad
and Rameke hurried to Hans’ side followed by the others as the
sleighs continued on to the far bank. Hans stared wide-eyes in
alarm at the large crack that ran from left to right. Rameke
pointed at it.

‘There is nothing to
fear. It is a single crack across our line of march and thus will
not lessen the carrying capacity of the ice. The ones to watch out
for are large cracks that appear parallel to the line of march.
They indicate an exhausted carrying capacity and a new crossing
must be sought away from them.’

Anton slapped Hans on
the back. ‘See, nothing to worry about.’

There was a loud crack
and everyone’s eyes turned right to see one of the squires fall
through the ice. It was as if sorcery had been used to make him
disappear. One moment he was there and the next he was gone. Rameke
was the first to react, running over to where the hole had appeared
in the ice.

‘Move further to the
right,’ he shouted at the other squires who had halted to stare at
the hole into which their companion had disappeared.

‘Do not halt on the
ice,’ cried Rameke as he knelt down and crawled on his belly
towards the hole in the ice. Conrad and Johann raced after him.

‘Hold my ankles,’
Rameke said to them as he inched towards the hole. From the far
bank came a group of Sword Brothers as the other squires led their
horses to the right and away from the weakened ice. Rameke thrust
his arm into the black water and then ducked his head under in a
vain attempt to see the squire. He lifted his head and gasped for
air.

‘He’s gone.’

He inched backwards
and then rose as Conrad and Johann did the same.

‘Do not stand still on
the ice,’ he told them, heading back to the line of sleighs they
had left. ‘The knights on horseback have weakened the ice, that is
why it collapsed.’

‘That idiot Sir
Frederick,’ remarked Johann.

‘He will have to clean
his own armour now,’ said Conrad.

Rameke saw Rudolf,
Henke, Lukas and three sergeants from Wenden approaching. He
pointed at the ice hole. ‘Have a care,’ he shouted, ‘the ice is
weak there.’

The Sword Brothers
joined the three boys and walked with them to the river’s northern
bank.

‘Brave but foolish,
Rameke,’ commented Rudolf. ‘What would your father say if you had
fallen into the water too?’

‘That he has another
son to carry on his line, lord.’

Henke laughed. ‘Well
said, but Rudolf is right, young wolf cub. You should die with a
sword in your hand in battle not drowning in freezing water.’