The Sword Brothers (37 page)

Lembit rode at the
head of the column, his standard of a red wolf on a black
background held behind him. Beside him was Rusticus and ahead rode
his Saccalian guides. These paths were hundreds of years old, used
by tribes to raid the Livs to the south. Raids were designed to
strike quickly to seize tools, weapons, jewellery, precious metals
and women and children who could then be sold or kept as slaves.
Men were invariably killed because they were too troublesome and
likely to try to escape. But Lembit did not go to plunder; he went
to kill Caupo and destroy his lands.

After ten days the
army reached the southern shore of Lake Burtnieks, the great inland
stretch of water a mere thirty miles directly north of Wenden. The
Estonians were also north of the River Gauja and could march
unimpeded towards Caupo’s stronghold at Treiden. Once they had left
the wetlands of Estonia Lembit had sent out scouts to ensure no
crusader patrols would intercept them, but he knew that last year’s
German knights would have returned to their homeland and this
year’s crop had yet to arrive.

As the warriors and
their mounts rested along the lake’s southern shore and some of
them waded into the shallow water to fish for salmon, chub and
pike, Lembit summoned Rusticus to his tent. His wolf shields were
camped around their chief, the felt tents organised in a haphazard
fashion among tethered ponies and campfires. The warriors from the
other tribes grouped their two-man tents around the dwelling of
their warlords – men selected by their tribal elders to lead the
various contingents that had been sent south with Lembit. Their
shields sported the designs of Estonian mythology and identity –
the lynx, oak leaf, spear, eight-heeled star, wolf and bear – and
around their necks men wore the wheel cross and eight-pointed star
for luck and protection. Others had necklaces bearing pendants
engraved with the cornflower, the ancient symbol of vitality.

Lembit saw that his
large deputy wore an unhappy expression.

‘As we agreed, then,
Rusticus. You will take fifty men and a guide will take you to a
shallow spot on the Gauja.’

‘I should be at your
side,’ grumbled his subordinate.

‘We’ve talked about
that and decided that you will be of more use gaining the attention
of Wenden’s garrison.’

‘I do not trust the
Oeselians,’ said Rusticus.

Lembit rolled his
eyes. ‘It has nothing to do with trust, as I have told you.’

Rusticus was still far
from convinced. ‘They might not even appear, then you will be
isolated deep in enemy territory.’

‘If that is the case
then I will withdraw. And if it is so you and fifty warriors will
not make much of a difference. What
will
make a difference
is if Wenden’s garrison is occupied rather than hunting for me if I
am forced to beat a hasty retreat.’ He looked at Rusticus. ‘I am
relying on you to do what you do best.’

Rusticus looked at him
blankly.

‘To plunder and kill,’
continued Lembit.

Rusticus cheered up at
this prospect. ‘Of course.’

‘And remember that you
are to keep Wenden’s soldiers occupied. Do not assault the castle
or get yourself caught. I need you.’

The next morning
Lembit led his army south towards Treiden and Rusticus and fifty
other warriors rode southeast towards the Gauja. Lembit hoped that
Rusticus’ savage tendencies would not get the better of him and
that he would remember his mission and not indulge in wanton rape
and slaughter against the first village he came across. Thus far
the guides had steered them away from settlements, but it was only
a matter of time before the presence of such a large party of
warriors was spotted and reported to Treiden. Lembit sent
instructions ahead to increase the rate of march. Caupo’s
stronghold was only forty miles away – two days’ ride.

*****

Conrad and the others
were most excited. It had been a year since their arrival at Wenden
and they now gathered in the castle’s round chapel to witness the
induction of Walter the Penitent into the Sword Brothers. Their
attendance at the ceremony was deemed most unusual but Walter had
specifically requested it as he and they had travelled on board the
same ship that had brought them all to Livonia and then to Wenden.
All the chapels of the order were round in imitation of the rotunda
of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Also present were
Master Berthold, who would conduct the admission ceremony, Otto and
the official witnesses: Rudolf and Henke.

Walter, dressed in a
simple white shirt and brown leggings, was kneeling before Master
Berthold. He had been alone in the chapel all through the night,
praying to God, and looked tired and a little apprehensive, this
knight who was fearless on the battlefield yet as gentle as a lamb
off it. The first rays of the sun were shining through the chapel’s
windows for admission ceremonies were always conducted just after
dawn. The master, Henke and Rudolf were attired in white woollen
coats with hoods, over which they wore their white mantles bearing
the insignia of the Sword Brothers on the left shoulder. Rudolf
held a spare mantle in his arms, which would be placed around the
shoulders of Walter after the ceremony had ended.

Conrad felt immensely
proud of Walter as Master Berthold asked the young knight the
questions that all applicants had to answer. Are you married?
No
. Do you owe anyone money?
No
. Are you anyone’s
slave?
No
. Master Berthold then explained to Walter that the
only reason for joining the order was to escape the sinful world,
do God’s work and do penance for his sins.

‘You will become a
slave of the Order, never to leave it without the permission of the
Grand Master,’ Master Berthold announced. ‘You should always be
prepared to shed your blood for Christ and to lay down your life
for God with desire and the sword. What say you, Walter? Do you
promise to live chastely and without personal property, and to keep
the traditions and customs of the order? Do you promise to do all
these things?’

Walter looked up at
the master. ‘I promise the chastity of my body, and poverty and
obedience to God, Holy Mary and to the Grand Master of the Sword
Brothers, and his successors, according to the rules and practices
of the order, obedience unto death.’

Otto said a prayer and
then Master Berthold ordered Walter to rise, turning to Rudolf to
receive the white mantle he held. He then placed the garment around
Walter’s shoulders and welcomed him into the order, fastening the
laces that secured it. Berthold also gave Walter a woollen cord to
tie around his waist as a symbol of chastity and a soft cap usually
worn by religious men. The master then embraced Walter, as did
Rudolf and Henke, while the dour Otto offered him his hand. A
beaming Walter then turned to Conrad and the other boys, who walked
forward and embraced him. At that moment each of them was imagining
their own admission ceremony into the order, when they too would be
inducted into the Sword Brothers.

Conrad knew that among
them only Anton, who came from a wealthy noble family, would be a
brother knight. Like the other Catholic religious orders the Sword
Brothers preferred their knights to have noble blood flowing in
their veins. There were exceptions. Henke, for example, was low
born but he had been part of Rudolf’s mercenary band and so had
been allowed to become a brother knight, as had Lukas. But the
majority of town inhabitants and countrymen who joined the order
became sergeants: individuals of a lower social level. Sergeants
wore mail without sleeves or gloves and a kettle hat instead of a
full-face helmet. But apart from these minor differences they
fought on horseback or on foot beside the brother knights and were
regarded as valued members of the Sword Brothers. Conrad would be
proud to be such a man.

The relaxed, happy
atmosphere was shattered by the sound of the alarm bell being rung.
Master Berthold, Rudolf and Henke ran outside as Walter bowed to
the altar and crossed himself before following. Conrad looked at
Hans, unsure what to do.

‘All of you outside,
now!’ shouted Rudolf as the garrison began to form up in the
courtyard.

Conrad sprinted from
the chapel and saw one of Thalibald’s warriors speaking to Master
Berthold, frequently turning to point south.

Most of the sergeants
were already in formation: three ranks of eight men on the west
side of the courtyard, the others manning the perimeter wall. The
brother knights, including Walter, assembled behind Master Berthold
on the north side of the courtyard. The mercenaries arrayed
themselves opposite the sergeants. Once the alarm was sounded the
perimeter gates were automatically closed and the civilian workers
and their families would take refuge within the castle itself. They
did so now: men, children and women with infants in their arms
hurrying across the bridge over the moat to fill the southern side
of the courtyard. Lukas called the boys over to stand beside him
behind the master.

The bell stopped
ringing and Master Berthold raised his arms.

‘I have just received
word that the stronghold of King Caupo at Treiden is under
attack.’

There was a collective
groan from among the civilians. None knew where Treiden was but any
mention of war and violence was enough to unnerve them, especially
the women. Master Berthold called for calm.

‘The pagans are on the
other side of the river and there are no crossing places nearby so
you are quite safe. However, most of the garrison will be leaving
to march to the king’s relief. For your own safety and that of
Wenden the gates will be closed while we are away and no one will
be permitted to leave the compound. Now return to your homes.’

The civilians grumbled
and complained among themselves as they filed back across the
bridge to their huts, while the soldiers were dismissed and ordered
to make preparations to march to the relief of Treiden. Master
Berthold told Thalibald’s lieutenant that he would leave Wenden as
soon as he had orders from Grand Master Volquin at Riga, but was
alarmed to discover that Thalibald had already mustered his men and
was preparing to lead them towards Treiden before the day was out.
He was persuaded to ride back to Thalibald with a plea from Master
Berthold that he do nothing until a strategy had been formulated,
which meant waiting for news from Riga.

A pigeon arrived from
Segewold Castle that afternoon, carrying a message that the bishop
had arrived back from Germany with a fresh batch of crusaders and
urgent preparations were under way to assemble an army for the
relief of Treiden. The garrison of Wenden was ordered to march to
Segewold but wait for the bishop to arrive before crossing the
Gauja. The missive stated that the bishop had every confidence that
Caupo would hold out in the face of the Oeselian assault.

‘Oeselians? Weren’t
they the ones that attacked our ship last year?’ said Hans, resting
on his shovel after heaping another load of horse dung into the
wheelbarrow. The brother knights and twenty-five of the sergeants
had ridden south to Thalibald’s village the following morning,
forty of the mercenaries accompanying them on foot and escorting
ten wagons loaded with food and supplies. They would reach the
village by the afternoon and link up with the chief, the combined
force then heading for Segewold, ten miles to the south.

The warhorses and
palfreys had gone south with the men but the ponies remained and
required mucking out.

‘Yes,’ replied Conrad,
‘but I thought they were pirates.’

‘So they are,’ said
Lukas who had appeared as if by magic. The other boys stopped their
resting and continued to clear out the dirty stalls. ‘But they are
not averse to sailing up rivers in their boats if there is plunder
to be had. But in this case they appear to want to kill Caupo.’

‘Why, Brother Lukas?’
asked Bruno.

‘I do not know,’
replied Lukas, ‘it is most strange.’

The work continued on
the castle, the towers slowly increasing in height as the
stonemasons laboured each day and the carpenters manufactured
floorboards, doors and ceiling supports. Lukas had been left in
charge of the castle in the absence of Master Berthold, and in
between dealing with the civilian workforce and organising the tiny
remaining garrison he insisted that the boy’s training continue as
normal. It was on the third morning following Master Berthold’s
departure that a Liv warrior appeared at the perimeter gates, an
elderly man riding a ragged pony who demanded entry to see the
garrison commander, identifying himself as the man whom Thalibald
had left in charge of his village in the chief’s absence. As chance
would have it Lukas was near the entrance, overseeing the boys’
morning practise. They stopped when a sergeant on the fighting
platform above the gates called to him, asking if the Liv should be
admitted, saying his name was Fricis. Lukas knew him and ordered
the gates to be opened.

Fricis rode into the
compound and halted when he saw Lukas. Conrad could see that he had
been riding his pony hard by its heavy breathing. Its head was low
as Fricis dismounted and clasped Lukas’ forearm. Conrad and the
others gathered behind Lukas as an agitated and sweating Fricis
spoke to him in impeccable German.

‘I request your urgent
assistance, Brother Lukas. A great disaster has occurred.’

‘Would you like to
retire to the castle, Fricis, to refresh yourself?’

Fricis shook his head.
‘There is no time. An Estonian raiding party has attacked us. They
have killed many men and taken the women and girls captive. Even as
we speak they are heading north back to their homeland. They have
captured Thalibald’s wife and daughter.’

Conrad felt a knot
tighten in his stomach. He thought of the beautiful Daina in peril
and a rage rose within him.