The Sword Brothers (7 page)

On a balcony behind
the scaffold Lübeck’s judge sipped at his wine and waited for the
young boys who were serving custard dyed with sandalwood. He leaned
to his left where Adolfus Braune was watching the executions.

‘That fellow was the
baker who tried to kill you, I believe.’

Braune nodded. ‘Yes. I
am not happy that he was not put to the tongs first. Very poor
showing by the executioner.’

The servant refilling
his goblet jumped as the woman spread-eagled on the cross below
them screamed as one of her breasts was torn from her body. Braune
licked his lips and once more began to feel his loins stir with
excitement as he witnessed a helpless woman being degraded and
mutilated.

‘Have no worry,’
replied the judge, ‘I will have stern words with him. He is paid
well for his work and will be reminded that justice must be seen to
be done.’

But Braune was not
listening, so engrossed was he in the slow and agonising death
being meted out to the naked woman on the scaffold.

Conrad left the square
in a daze, unaware of his surroundings or time of day. It felt as
though his insides had been gouged out. He was numb. The tears had
stopped because he had none left. He suddenly stopped.

Rudolf looked at him
quizzically. ‘Conrad?’

The boy looked at him
with puffy red eyes. ‘Kill me. Please.’

Rudolf smiled kindly.
‘It is an offence against God to take an innocent life,
Conrad.’

‘My father and mother
were innocent but their lives were taken.’

Henke nodded
thoughtfully, earning him a frown from Rudolf.

‘Sometimes we cannot
fathom God’s plans, Conrad,’ said Rudolf, ‘but there is a plan and
we must not question it. Suffice to say that your parents are
together in heaven and you should be grateful for that at
least.’

‘Grateful,’ murmured
Conrad without emotion.

Rudolf placed an arm
around his shoulders and moved him forward. ‘Come. You will feel
better with some food in your belly.’

The monks at the
red-brick monastery were kind and brought Conrad and his sister
large bowls filled with a thick chicken stew. The monastery had its
own cattle and chickens that provided the monks with milk and food
all year round, though they were not allowed to eat meat from
four-legged animals. But he could not eat it and so sat and watched
his sister devour the meal, scooping up mouthfuls of stew with
pieces of the loaf that sat on the table between them. The nuns of
the convent had covered Marie’s curly hair with a white veil, which
framed her face and made it appear even rounder. She stopped eating
and looked at her brother with her large grey eyes.

‘Why aren’t you
eating?’

‘I’m not hungry. Our
parents are in heaven, Marie.’

She dropped her spoon
in the stew. ‘Father is dead?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘I do not know why,’
he answered.

She began to cry. He
stood up and went to comfort her.

‘Do not cry, Marie.
Please,’ he implored her, tears coming to his own eyes.

‘What is to become of
us, Conrad?’

But that question had
already been addressed by Rudolf and that very evening the warrior
monk escorted Conrad to the monastery’s chapter house, located in
its east range. He was still pained by his father’s death and his
sister’s distress but had calmed down a little. He was now
possessed by a strange indifference as he walked beside Rudolf from
the west range of the monastery along stark stone floors. Despite
its austerity Conrad liked the monastery. There was an ordered calm
within its walls, with no raised voices, filth or bad odours. The
monks went about their business quietly, contentedly and with a
sense of purpose. He had given no thought to what would happen to
him but thought that perhaps he could make a life for himself here
within its walls. Perhaps that is why he had been summoned to the
chapter house.

The walled monastery
was located next to the cathedral and adjacent to the nunnery.
Conrad had been lodged in the west range where guest rooms were
provided, the monks sleeping in a dormitory on the building’s
second storey. They walked along the west range’s corridor before
going through a door that led to the cloister and then across the
garden where flowers to decorate the cathedral were grown. These
all had a religious symbolism: violas that represented the humility
of the Virgin Mary, white roses associated with her purity and red
roses that were linked with the blood of Christ. Conrad looked up
into the moonlit sky and saw the imposing black shapes of the
cathedral’s twin spires towering above the monastery.

They walked through
the garden to the east range’s cloister and then through a door
that led to the chapter house. This was positioned in the centre of
the east range and was a place where the monks assembled each
morning and where the abbot decided the day’s business. Though the
cathedral was the fief of the bishop of the city who technically
ruled the monastery, his many religious and secular interests meant
he was away a lot. Thus he delegated authority to the abbot.

When Conrad entered
the chapter house he was impressed by its size and rich decoration.
Candle stands arranged around the spacious circular room
illuminated the interior and the glass in the tall windows,
constructed high enough to prevent anyone outside spying in. He
noticed that around the edges of the room was a series of stone
benches, while opposite the door they had entered was the abbot and
two of his monks, one of whom was sitting at a table with a quill
in his hand. Rudolf ushered Conrad forward and they both halted in
front of the abbot, a portly, middle-aged man with a tonsure and a
white habit. Chosen by the other monks for his goodness and
authority, he ruled the monastery and also had power over the many
tenants who lived on church lands in Lübeck and the surrounding
area.

Conrad noticed that
above the benches were beautiful stone carvings of heads, animals,
birds and flowers. He was staring at them when the abbot cleared
his throat and Rudolf gently jabbed him with a finger.

The abbot smiled.
‘Well, Conrad. Brother Rudolf has brought you here so that your
future may be decided.’

The monk with the
quill began taking notes of the meeting.

The abbot brought his
hands together in front of him. ‘It would appear that you have
three courses of action open to you. I believe that God brought you
to us for a purpose and to that end Brother Rudolf would like you
to go with him when he returns to Livonia. There you will be
instructed in the ways of the Sword Brothers to become an agent of
the Lord against the heathens. This is your first option.’

Conrad looked at
Rudolf who nodded at him.

‘Alternatively, you
may remain here and become a novice in the monastery and thereby
devote your life to the Lord within its quiet confines. Your last
option, and in my view the least desirable, is to leave these walls
with your sister to live on your own wits. This I would advise
against.’

He gestured to the
other monk sitting beside him who handed him a note.

‘I have been notified
by the city authorities that your father’s premises and all tools
and fittings pertaining to his business as a baker have been
confiscated as a consequence of his conviction. So you see, you
have no means to make a living.’

He leaned forward and
fixed Conrad with his eyes. ‘What do you intend to do?’

What choice did he
have? He had no home, no means of making a living and no family
members he could lodge with. Apart from his sister he was truly
alone. It was the fate of his sister that was uppermost in his
mind.

‘What of my sister,
sir?

‘She can enter the
convent as a novice,’ replied the abbot, the sound of the monk’s
scribbling beside him filling the chamber. ‘She will be clothed,
cared for and perfectly safe within its walls.’

Conrad felt relieved.
The safety of Marie was what his parents would have wanted. Better
a nun than a starving beggar on Lübeck’s streets. He was tempted to
stay at the monastery. At least he would be close to Marie and they
would be able to see each other as they grew up. But in his heart
he did not want to stay in Lübeck, the site of his parents’
murders. He had a strong desire to flee its narrow streets and its
base citizens. He could leave Marie behind and depart on his own,
of course. But to what end? He had never been outside the city and
knew nothing of the world that existed beyond its confines. At
least if he went with Rudolf he would have food in his belly and
would learn to be a Sword Brother, whatever they were. His mind was
made up.

‘I will go with
Brother Rudolf, sir.’

Chapter 2

Lübeck’s docks were
heaving with activity. The city was now a commercial centre of
great importance for the Baltic region and for trade with the
German Empire to the south. The city was situated on an island
enclosed by the River Trave and was thirteen miles inland from the
Baltic Sea. Its strategic location meant that its merchants and
their ships controlled the fish trade in the Baltic itself and the
North Sea and the grain trade to Norway. Lübeck grew rich dealing
in salt, herring, grain, timber, honey, amber, hides and ships
stores. Fish, amber and hides entered the port and were then
transported by land to southern Germany, while merchandise from the
Mediterranean – jewellery, weapons and tools – were brought to
Lübeck and shipped elsewhere. But it was the herring trade, the
fish caught and then salted in their tens of thousands, that had
made Lübeck rich. So numerous were Baltic herrings that it was said
that a man could scoop up the fish with his bare hands.

Conrad had risen early
to eat breakfast with Marie, the last time he would see her in a
long time, perhaps the last time he would see her ever. The thought
weighed heavily upon him and he ate little, picking at the rye
bread and taking small sips of the cup of milk. Marie devoured her
bread and drank greedily from her cup.

‘I have to go away,’
he said to her.

She put down her cup,
milk on her top lip. ‘Go where?’

‘To a place called
Livonia. Brother Rudolf is going to train me to be a Sword
Brother.’

The names meant
nothing to Marie, who continued to smile at her brother in
ignorance.

‘When will you be
back?’ she asked.

He avoided her gaze
and turned away. ‘I do not know. You like it here, with the nuns, I
mean?’

‘Yes, they are kind to
me.’

That was something at
least. ‘You will be safe here until I get back.’

The abbess appeared, a
middle-aged woman in a pure white gown with a large silver cross
hanging over her habit. Marie saw her and smiled.

‘It is time to say
goodbye to your brother, Marie.’

Conrad tried
desperately to stifle the tears that were welling up in his eyes as
he left his bench to embrace his sister.

‘Promise me that you
will take care of yourself, Marie.’

Not realising that he
was saying a last farewell, she smiled. ‘Of course I will. I will
see you when you get back.’

‘It is time,’ said the
abbess softly.

Conrad released his
sister and looked at the abbess. ‘You will take care of her, won’t
you?’

The abbess looked at
him with sympathetic eyes. ‘You can be assured of that, Conrad. And
may God go with you.’

He kissed Marie on the
cheek, turned and walked to the door of the dining room. He stopped
and looked back, raised a hand to his sister and then walked
briskly into the corridor. Rudolf and Henke were waiting for him in
the garden and they walked in silence from the monastery north to
the city docks. The spring days were getting warmer and there was a
pleasant breeze blowing but Conrad was dejected and walked with his
head down. Rudolf noticed the boy’s demeanour but said nothing.
Hard work would soon occupy his mind and he would be too tired to
be morose.

At the docks their
progress was slowed by a mass of sailors, port officials, wagons,
cattle, horses and dockers. The quayside was filled with the aroma
of salt and fish and cawing gulls hovered above. The harbour area
was crammed with boats of all shapes and sizes. The largest, the
single-masted cogs, were nearest to the quay, their cargoes being
unloaded by cranes for storage in the great warehouses that lined
the docks. These impressive brick-built structures comprised three
storeys, the ground floor being the venue where buying and selling
took place and the second floor the space where goods were stored.
The top floor was filled with offices and living quarters.

Around the cogs were
aged byrthings – short and broad boats with a single sail and
rudder – and even older boats called busses that had slender hulls
and one mast and sail. There were also a great number of cobles:
flat-bottomed, open-decked, high-bowed, clinker-built fishing
vessels. The high bow was necessary for sailing in the rough waters
of the Baltic. Further upstream the riverbanks around the villages
were littered with smaller vessels. These included punts with flat
bottoms and square bows – ideal for fishing in shallow waters. The
villagers also used coracles, stringing nets between two boats to
catch fish.

Rudolf and Henke
pushed their way through the crowd until they reached two cogs
moored by the quay flying pennants bearing a red sword below a red
cross from the top of their masts. Standing on the stone quay was a
collection of soldiers and civilians, including a handful of women
and young children. Conrad noticed a group of youths standing with
a man in his twenties dressed in mail over which he wore a white
surcoat. He was armed with a sword and carried a wide shield in his
left hand. His helmet was on the ground before him and he had
removed his mail coif from his head. He had a handsome if serious
face topped by trimmed brown hair.