The Sword Brothers (64 page)

Caupo bowed deeply to
him, ignored Stefan and then retreated from the room in the company
of Thalibald. The door was closed behind them.

The bishop rose and
poured wine into a silver cup, handing it to Stefan.

‘I know you do not
hold with what has been agreed, Stefan, but in this instance I must
override you.’

Stefan sipped at the
wine. ‘As you wish, lord bishop.’

Albert walked over to
the window and gazed at Riga outside.

‘Time is on our side,
Stefan. When I return from Germany I shall bring with me not only
crusaders but also men and women who will make their lives in
Livonia. With the passing of every year the castles of the Sword
Brothers grow stronger and the population of Riga increases. We may
suffer reverses but God’s ultimate victory is assured.’

Stefan took another
sip of his wine.

‘It is twenty-five
years since Jerusalem fell to the infidels, Stefan. I do not intend
Riga to suffer the same fate and if that means making unpalatable
decisions in the name of expediency, so be it.’

‘What if Grand Duke
Daugerutis interprets your generosity as weakness, lord bishop?’
said Stefan.

‘Then more fool
him.’

That afternoon Prince
Vetseke was brought from the castle to meet with the bishop.
Volquin and the rest of the Sword Brother commanders had wanted his
public execution as a warning to others but the bishop would have
none of it. He ensured that the prince was treated with civility
and dignity as befitting his status. He met with the prince in his
palace, though Volquin insisted that he be present and also that
the number of guards inside the palace’s reception hall was
doubled.

The prince stood
before the bishop who sat in a high-backed chair, a banner bearing
the cross keys of Riga hanging on the wall behind him. Despite his
confinement the prince looked remarkably hale and was allowed to
wear his sword for the meeting, though Volquin stood near him,
resting his hand on the hilt of his own sword, in case any mischief
was attempted. The hall was quiet as the bishop cleared his throat.
To one side scribes at desks held their quills ready to record his
words.

‘Prince Vetseke,
having been confined in Riga’s castle these past few weeks for
fomenting and leading a rebellion against God’s own city, I have
summoned you here so that you may hear the sentence that will be
passed on you.’

Vetseke stood, rock
like, staring at the bishop. He already knew the punishment for
failed rebellions.

‘You are hereby
banished from Livonia for the rest of your life upon pain of death.
You shall never see Kokenhusen again nor know the fealty of your
people. I cast you out, Prince Vetseke, just as our Lord cast out
the devils in Galilee. Go where you will. But know that if you set
foot in Livonia again you will suffer the sentence of death. And
may God have mercy on your soul.’

The scribes scribbled
on their parchment as Volquin beckoned four guards forward to
escort Vetseke from the hall. His expression remained impassive as
he was ushered from the room and the door was closed behind
him.

‘I sincerely hope that
is the last we see of him, lord bishop,’ said Volquin without
conviction.

‘If the plan to
purchase the Livs from Grand Duke Daugerutis comes to fruition then
we have nothing to worry about concerning the machinations of
Prince Vetseke, grand master,’ said the bishop. ‘For a vine cannot
grow in stony ground and if the Livs get back their women and
children then their allegiance to the Holy Church will be
guaranteed and there will be no more rebellions.’

*****

As Vetseke trudged
alone out of Riga’s gates Master Griswold sent a message to
Vsevolod requesting his presence at Kokenhusen. When the Russian
prince arrived he was informed that the bishop was most displeased
with the actions of Grand Duke Daugerutis. However, in order to
preserve the peace between the Lithuanians and Livonia the bishop
was prepared to buy back the Livonians who had been captured by the
grand duke in Livonia.

‘The grand duke can
name his price,’ Griswold informed Vsevolod.

The latter’s eyes lit
up. Griswold knew that the prince would add his own commission to
any sum agreed.

‘You can leave the
matter with me, Master Griswold,’ Vsevolod assured him. ‘I am most
desirous that this matter is brought to a speedy conclusion.’

Griswold looked at him
contemptuously. ‘Of that I have no doubt.’

Chapter 14

The harvest in Livonia
that year was excellent. The crusader army at Riga may have been
devastated by the bloody flux, the Lithuanians may have stolen the
women and children from the villages in the path of Grand Duke
Daugerutis’ army and some of those villages had a deficiency in
menfolk after the crushing of Prince Vetseke’s rebellion, but the
rains had watered the earth and the sun had ripened the crops. The
bishop and his priests believed that God had smiled upon the land
and blessed his peace with the Estonians and the ransom he had paid
the Lithuanians for the return of the slaves they had taken.

The negotiations were
conducted through Vsevolod, on account of his ties to Daugerutis,
and though Archdeacon Stefan believed that the sum demanded by the
grand duke was exorbitant, the bishop was adamant that it should be
paid. Grand Master Volquin also grumbled, not least because Master
Griswold had informed him that Vsevolod could not be trusted, but
mainly because he knew that funds paid to the Lithuanians would
result in the slowing of construction work on the order’s castles.
But the bishop was no fool and when the Lithuanians sent back the
slaves there was great rejoicing among the Livs. And their joy also
extinguished any remaining flames of rebelliousness among the
natives. With peace secured along the Dvina and a truce agreed with
the Estonians Bishop Albert returned to Germany, taking with him
those crusaders who had survived the flux and the battle against
Vetseke. A few stayed behind to make their lives in Livonia, adding
to the steadily growing population of non-native Christians
there.

At Wenden the sale of
the Estonian slaves to the Russians, the absence of any hostilities
and destruction on account of the peace with Lembit, plus the
release of modest funds from the treasury at Riga, had allowed the
work on the fortifications to continue. The first floor of the
north tower was now complete, though the great wooden dormitory
that provided the quarters for the brother knights and sergeants
was still extant. That would be the last to be converted to stone,
the order believing that hardship was good for the souls of its
fighting men and that luxury was to be avoided at all cost.

As far as Conrad was
concerned that autumn was the happiest since his arrival in
Livonia. He and the other novices were now accorded a modicum of
respect among the brother knights and sergeants on account of their
actions at Riga, not least because the bishop himself had singled
them out for praise. A few eyebrows had been raised in the town
that he had promised to make them all brother knights but at Wenden
this passed without comment. Master Berthold was delighted that his
four novices had distinguished themselves in battle and commended
Brother Lukas for his diligence in training them. For his part
Lukas increased the length and intensity of their daily training
sessions lest they became boastful or apt to rest on their laurels.
Conrad did not mind and embraced the extra work. He knew that it
was harvest time and that meant he and the others would soon be
sent to Thalibald’s village to assist with the gathering of the
crops. Which meant that he would see Daina.

He was sixteen and she
was seventeen and just as his body was turning from a gangly,
awkward youth into an athletic young man so was her girlish frame
becoming more womanly. Her breasts were getting larger, her hips
were widening and her green eyes were filled not only with warmth
but also temptation. She and the other girls and young women
brought water to the men working in the fields as before. But this
time when she passed a cup of cool liquid to Conrad her fingers
brushed his and her eyes lit up as he looked at her.

Master Berthold
decreed that all the brother knights and half the sergeants from
the castle should assist in the collection of the harvest, not only
because the back-breaking work would be good for their souls but
also because it was good politics. Because the Sword Brothers was
an order of the Holy Church it collected one sheaf out of every ten
in tithes and Berthold considered it only proper that the garrison
assist in the collection of the crops that would help to feed it
during the winter months. Individuals such as Vetseke tried to
portray the bishop and the Sword Brothers as masters who treated
the Livs as slaves but that was a lie. Thalibald doubted whether a
ruler such as Vetseke would have bothered to get his daughter back
if he had been lord at Wenden.

The first crops to be
harvested were the wheat and rye, which ripened first, followed by
the barley and oats. The wheat was harvested by men working in
groups of five – four reapers and a binder – who could harvest
around two acres of crops a day. Lukas oversaw Conrad, Hans, Johann
and Anton as they went to work with their sickles, the wheat
extending before them like a golden ocean. It was hot, dry and
windless and soon they were stripped to the waist and sweating
profusely.

To one side was
another team composed of Rudolf, Henke, Walter and two other
brother knights, who were swinging their sickles with gusto. The
powerful, broad-shouldered Henke stood beside the slimmer Rudolf,
the burn scars showing clearly on his neck and chest.

‘That must have been
painful,’ remarked Hans as he nodded at Rudolf’s wounds.

‘I’m surprised he
doesn’t hate the Russians for doing that to him,’ said Conrad,
arching his back to relieve the ache at the base of his spine.

Johann was surprised.
‘The Russians?’

Lukas looked behind to
see Daina and a dozen other young women with yokes over their
shoulders hauling water buckets.

‘Hold your sickles.
Yes, Johann, the Russians. Before the bishop came the Russians
viewed Livonia as a large hunting ground to pillage and burn. Easy
target, you see. They burnt Holm when it was just a timber fortress
and Rudolf got caught inside. It was Ilona who dragged him out of
the fire and tended his wounds. She’s been with us ever since, God
bless her.’

‘Did the Russians
escape?’ asked Anton, putting down his sickle and wiping his
sweat-covered brow with a cloth.

‘Unfortunately,’ said
Lukas, his voice laced with bitterness. ‘We gave chase but they
slipped through our hands. They were led by a man named Domash
Tverdislavich.’

‘What a ridiculous
name,’ said Hans.

Conrad remembered the
name from a conversation with Henke.

‘Do you think he will
return to Livonia?’ enquired Anton.

Lukas shook his head.
‘Not now. The Sword Brothers are too well established in Livonia.
There are no easy pickings for the Russians.’

‘What are they like?’
asked Johann.

‘The Russians? Like
wolves. You don’t want to turn your back on them.’

‘And yet we trade with
them,’ remarked Conrad casually.

‘Needs must, Conrad,’
replied Lukas. ‘Henke told me that you disagreed with the whole
sorry business of the slaves. Is that not so?’

Conrad did not say
anything but avoided Lukas’ eyes.

‘Speak freely,’ the
instructor barked.

‘I did not hold with
stealing defenceless women and children from their homes and
selling them into slavery, no.’

The other boys looked
at him wide eyed but Lukas merely nodded.

‘Neither did I or most
of those who took part in the raid,’ he said softly. ‘Circumstances
forced us to take a hateful decision. It will be for God to judge
us.’

The melancholy air
that suddenly enveloped them was swept aside by the appearance of
the glowing Daina, who rested the buckets on the ground.

‘Water for the beasts
of burden,’ she teased, grinning at Conrad.

She handed him and the
others a cup and they dipped them in the water, gulping it
down.

‘Slow down,’ ordered
Lukas. ‘You drink too much too fast you will want to throw up and
might even pass out.’

‘I hate the Russians,’
Conrad said suddenly. ‘And the Estonians.’

‘So do I,’ agreed
Hans.

‘And I,’ added
Johann.

‘Me too,’ said
Anton.

‘You should never hate
your enemies,’ Lukas admonished them. ‘Hate clouds a soldier’s
judgement. What have I told you all?’

They looked at him
with blank expressions. He raised his eyes to the heavens. ‘I
despair. Control. Control at all times. Even in the fiercest fight
when all are losing their minds to frenzy. The man who stays in
control at all times has the edge. You start to hate your enemies
then they have the edge over you. That is why Rudolf and Henke are
so proficient in battle. And Thalibald. Is that not right,
Daina?’

She flashed a smile at
him. ‘I do not know of such things, Brother Lukas. Only that I am
glad that you are here to help us gather the harvest.’

Lukas looked at her
and then Conrad. ‘All of us or just one?’

She feigned innocence.
‘I do not know what you mean.’

He smiled at her. ‘Of
course not.’

As they stood
quenching their thirsts Daina sidled up to Conrad.

‘I heard that you
saved the bishop.’

He shrugged. ‘It was
nothing.’

‘My father says that
you are already a great warrior and are destined for even greater
things.’

He felt his cheeks
flush with embarrassment. ‘I got lucky.’

She sighed. ‘Perhaps I
might get lucky when my father chooses a husband for me.’