by Griff Hosker
My two men were not badly wounded but they would be in no condition to fight for some time. The Hochmeister had a bad wound but he would recover. As dawn broke, the Earl and I were sent for.
Sir Bengt translated, “The King and the Hochmeister wish to thank our English brothers for their timely arrival. We should have heeded your words, William Strongstaff.” Sir Bengt picked up a small chest. “This is for you and your men who saved the King of Poland.”
I bowed, “Thank the King but I was just doing my duty.”
When the words were translated the King came over and put two arms around my shoulders. He said something and Sir Bengt smiled and said, “The King says if all men did their duty as you did then this siege would be over already.”
I stepped back. I was desperate to see what the chest contained but that would have been churlish of me.
Sir Bengt turned to the Earl. He handed him a similarly sized chest, “This is for you. Earl Henry, the King asks that you take the captives to Königsberg. There they will be taught to love God. Their presence here will merely encourage more attacks such as this one. An assault on the walls will not be possible until the towers are rebuilt and he gives you permission to go home to England. You and your men have done your duty. In the chest is a letter authorising you to commandeer ships to take you home.”
“I thank the King but know that we are more than happy to continue to serve God here.”
The Earl did not mean it but the King nodded his thanks. We were going home. We were heading back to England.
Chapter 9
There were just forty women and thirty children to be taken to Königsberg. Some had died of the cold, some had been killed during the attack and some had managed to flee into the snow. We had fewer to guard but it was not a short journey. It was almost two hundred miles. Sir Bengt and his men took wheels from the wagons and fitted runners so that they could be used as sledges. Even so, the journey would take almost nine days. We bade farewell to a siege which was doomed to failure.
It soon became obvious that our horses were the best in the column. As a result, the Earl had us at the fore. Bengt had to be with us for he knew the route we would take. His expertise helped us almost within hours of setting off. Instead of heading due west as we had expected, we headed north and west. I asked why and he pointed to the frozen river ahead. “The sledges will find the going much easier on the frozen ice. True, we will have further to travel but we will travel twice as quickly. The only danger is that the Lithuanian rebels use them too. We will need to be alert but as there are no leaves on the trees and the rivers are wide and open, we should see our enemies when they are far away.”
It made sense and when we actually reached the ice, I was amazed at the speeds we managed. We managed thirty miles that first day. He told us, as we made camp the next day, that we would be leaving the river to head due west and travel over a series of lakes.
We had no grass for the horses but we had taken wheat from the town of Ukmergė. Some had been spoiled by the fires but it served to feed the horses. I had feared that the captives would try to escape but, as we made our camp, we heard wolves howling. We were in a land devoid of towns. If they left us then they would die. The ones who had tried to flee to Vilnius had been the brave ones. These were just resigned to their fate.
The next day we left the river to head across country. Here the going was harder. We went up inclines. We passed over what would have been steep slopes if they had not been softened by falls of snow. It was there where we had an accident. My men were kindly men at heart. Ferocious in a fight they were sentimental about children. Harold Four Fingers was just such a man. He was at the rear of our column riding before the first sledge. A small child, no more than two years old, was not listening to his mother and as we went over a bump the child slid from the back of the sledge. Had we been on the flat then there would not have been a problem but it was a steep twisting path up a slope which passed between trees and the ground fell away to the south. I guessed that when there was no snow it would have been a rocky crag. The child rolled down the slope and then toppled and slid over the edge. He was saved halfway down by a fork in the branches of a tree. He was lodged but in a precarious position. He screamed, I guessed for help. The mother, a thin young thing herself, wailed. Harold was the closest warrior to the bairn and he did not pause. He threw himself from the back of his horse and took off his sword and belt. He reached the edge of the snowy crag and did not hesitate.
We dismounted and ran to see if we could help but it looked hopeless for the child was a good ten feet from the top. He had landed in the fork of the tree and was held there by two thinner branches. Had the tree not been there then the child would have fallen to his death. Harold began to climb down the icy cliff. The snow had frozen and Harold used the frozen irregularities to make his way to the child. It was only thirty or so feet high but the child was lodged twenty feet, at least, from the bottom. There were ice covered rocks there and the child would have died if he slipped. I think the child was terrified and frozen with fear. That saved him. Harold took off his mittens and continued his climb. It was an almost suicidal journey. The tree was beneath an overhang of frozen snow. The child had stopped wailing and was now calling, it sounded like, ‘mama’ which made the woman cry even louder. I saw the Earl, as he and the knights who were riding up as the rear guard, look over with a bemused expression on his face.
Harold was making good progress and he was just four feet or so from the child when he slipped. His good hand was his right one and, by some miracle, he managed to grab the branch closest to the child. I heard a crack. The forked branch was breaking. Roger and Natty had been the two who reacted the quickest. They grabbed a rope and ran to the cliff edge. Roger tied it around the cantle of Harold’s saddle and Natty fed it over, “Grab the end, Harold, and we will pull you up!”
“Not without the bairn.”
“Don’t be daft, man! The branch is breaking! You have done your best but the child is doomed!”
Ignoring them we heard Harold as he spoke gently to the boy, “Now don’t you worry. Uncle Harold will get you,” He began to swing from his good hand. He reached the branch with the child and gripped it with his four-fingered hand. He was now stuck. He could not grab the child for he hung on to two branches. The rope snaked behind him but he could not grab that either. I heard another crack. The weight of the child, Harold and the ice were breaking the branch. “Right, little man. Climb on Uncle Harold’s back and I will give you a ride.” It was ridiculous. The child could not understand him and yet, miraculously, the child put a hand out to reach Harold’s arm. “Good lad!” The touch seemed to give the child confidence and he launched himself at Harold. It was too much for the branch which broke. Harold’s arm flailed as he tried to keep steady on the one remaining fork of the branch. The boy clung on to Harold’s arm. I saw Harold gesturing with his head, “Come on, son. Arms around my neck, eh? Come on. You can do it!” The boy threw his arms around Harold’s neck. He gripped so tightly I was sure that he would strangle him. Harold just grinned and he flapped his now released left arm. He grabbed the rope and shouted, “Have you got me, Natty? I will have to let go of the branch.”
Roger of Chester shouted, “We both have you and the rope is tied to your horse. Let go and we will pull you up!”
I saw Harold close his eyes in silent prayer and then he let go of the branch and grabbed the rope with his good hand. It held and Harold’s hand gripped the rope tightly for two lives depended upon it. All of the men at arms and archers cheered. Roger shouted to Harold’s horse, “Back up, Bucky, back up!” The horse walked away from the cliff and gradually the two fish were hauled from what had seemed certain death just moments earlier.
As we pulled the two of them to the top the mother broke free from the arms of those who had been restraining her and hurled herself at Harold and the child. She squeezed the boy tightly and then, holding him away from her began such a tirade that the boy burst into t
ears.
Harold wagged a finger at her, “Now then, lady, I didn’t risk my life so that you could terrify the poor little soul.” He stroked the boy’s head. The child turned and seeing Harold threw his arms around his neck and hugged him. Harold Four Fingers was a terrible man in battle but I saw his face crease and tears welled up in his eyes. The woman reached up and kissed Harold. She began a flood of words.
Sir Bengt smiled, “She says she owes Harold more than she can pay. Whatever he wants from her is his.”
Harold looked embarrassed. He shook his head and handed the boy back to his mother, “Just doing what any Christian would do.” He turned to the Earl, “Sorry for delaying us, my lord, but I couldn’t let a little one die like that, could I?”
The Earl shook his head and smiled, “No, Harold Four Fingers, and I think that your kind act has ensured that there will be no trouble from these captives on the way home.” All of the captives were applauding Harold.
Sir Bengt translated all of the words and the Earl was right for we had smiles instead of scowls from then on. The Poles and the Teutonic Knights might be their enemies but the English were seen as saviours.
As we set off, I said, “Harold, you had better ride by the sledge. I think it will make it better for the child and his mother if he can see you.” He nodded, “That was bravely done and I am proud of you.”
We stopped when we reached the lakes. We made camp and fed the horses. We lit fires and we set sentries. “Harold, you have done enough this day. You need not stand a watch.”
“Thank you, lord. I will just go and see how the bairn is. “
Roger gave him a knowing smile, “And the bairn’s bonnie mother has nothing to do with it?”
“Of course not.”
It took some days to cross the lakes. Harold and the woman, we learned her name was Magda, became closer. I think that Roger was correct. Harold was smitten but he was smitten by them both. The child clinging to his neck had bonded them. It made our journey easier for the women actually helped us to cook the food and the smiles from the captives made life easier.
When we left the lakes and the rivers then the going became harder. The sledges moved slower but Sir Bengt assured us that we were making good time. I suppose we were but I had the itchy scalp which always boded badly for us. We were descending a welcome slope on what was, in summer, a road. Now it was a flatter piece of ice. Stephen the Tracker was at the fore and when he pulled back the reins then I knew there was trouble. As soon as he nocked an arrow, I shouted, “Ware the fore! Enemies!”
The Earl galloped up to me, “I see no enemy!”
“Nor do I but Stephen has nocked an arrow and I am guessing that he has!” I saw Alan organising my archers.
We stopped and the Earl waved ten of his men at arms to guard the rear. My archers spread out before us and the other archers, now used to obeying Alan, rode their horses closer to him. We now had our forty-eight archers as a thin line before us. I nudged my horse forward and joined Stephen and Alan. Stephen the Tracker did not turn as he spoke. “I am sorry, lord, but this does not feel right. There is a wood ahead and when my men and I rode along the ice the clatter of our hooves should have made the birds flutter off. None did. There are no birds there and I wonder why. I think that there are men in the woods waiting to ambush us.”
I could not see a way around the wood. We would have to trip the trap. “What do you suggest?”
“I will take ten archers and move to within bow range. I will leave Simon the Traveller here with the rest of the archers. If I can make them follow us then you and Roger of Chester can deal with them.”
I nodded, “Then let us do this.”
I turned my horse and rode back to the others. “Alan and I think that there is an ambush ahead.”
The Earl looked sceptical but Sir Bengt said, “This area is known for its pagan beliefs. We have tried to drive them hence many times and we have failed. You may be right.”
The Earl looked resigned, “What do we do?”
“You wait here with the knights, squires, priests and minstrels. There are men guarding the rear. I take the others and if Alan can make them attack us then we will deal with them.”
Sir Bengt shook his head, “You make it sound easy.”
“Not easy but it is what we do. We are comfortable with such attacks.” I nudged Blaze forward, “Ready when you are, Alan of the Wood.”
My archers rode towards the woods. They were not horse archers, that is to say they could not ride and release arrows while mounted. They could, however, stop and by turning their bodies draw back their bows. The longbow was too long for a horse. When they stopped the rest of the archers began to move as Stephen the Tracker waved them down the slope.
I said, to the men at arms with me, “Forward, but slowly.”
The ten archers with Alan all drew. I guessed they could see what we could not. He had chosen woodsmen all. I saw the arrows descend. Nothing happened. A second and third flight followed. The third flight did it. The Lithuanian rebels raced from the woods. Clad in furs they looked like animals and not men. Stephen the Tracker halted his archers and I heard him shout, “Nock! Draw! Release!”
I drew my sword as we moved down the slope. I could feel Blaze’s hooves sliding on the slope. Perhaps that was what the Lithuanians were counting on. Certainly, the sledges would have been hard to control if we were descending and under attack. Alan and his archers rode through Lol and his men. Stephen the Tracker’s archers’ arrows fell amongst the Lithuanians. Although they struck, they did less damage than I might have hoped. I saw fifteen bodies close to the wood but there were more than a hundred of them and they had spread out across the ground. Our archers had a more difficult time. As they closed with us, I saw why our arrows had done less damage. These men had shields. They were not large ones but the arrows had not come as a flight of forty and the Lithuanians had seen the arrows coming. They had raised them to protect themselves.
“Archers, fall back and support us. Sergeants at arms, Sir Bengt, let us do God’s work!”
The pagans who advanced outnumbered us. However, by spreading themselves out they had given us a chance. We rode in a tighter block and headed for their centre. I only had thirty men with me. Some sergeants had been killed and wounded and others were driving the sledges. The thirty men I led were aided by four Teutonic Order warriors. I was confident.
I pulled up my shield. Roger on one side of me and Sir Bengt on the other did the same. The Lithuanians we had fought thus far had, generally, been smaller than other warriors. They were squat and broad. I held my sword below me and I was ready to lean to the right. Blaze was a clever horse. He would avoid if he could, any attack from my left. A group of Lithuanians saw our intent and they closed together to give each other support. It was not a shield wall for they allowed each other the room to swing their weapons. I chose the man I would kill. He wore a simple round helmet and he held a pike. His weapon would reach me before I could strike him. Rather than swinging, he thrust at me and, as the head came towards Blaze’s neck, I swung my sword up. My blade severed the shaft below the head. As I passed, I flicked the sword at his head. The tip scored a long line down his neck. It did not kill him but it was a bad wound for it bled.
I brought my sword down again and hauled back on the reins. I did not want to get ahead of the others. We had broken through their first warriors but there were more. As I pulled back to swing at the warrior with a sword who rushed at me, I saw others struck by arrows. Now that they were on foot my archers were more accurate. The Lithuanians could not focus on the arrows for there were horsemen trying to kill them. The Lithuanian’s sword struck my poleyn. The blow hurt my knee but my sword swept upwards and hit the pagan in the head. His skull was split in twain from the chin to the top.
I wheeled Blaze and pulled him around so that I rode across their line. His hooves skidded slightly on the ice and his back end came around. One barbarian thought to take advantage and rushed at me. He se
emed to be surer-footed than we were. His swinging pike came down at me but I met it with my sword. As Blaze’s hooves found purchase, my horse was able to move forward. The Lithuanian was too close to us and one of Blaze’s hooves smashed into his shin, breaking his leg instantly. He fell and rolled down the slope. I had learned my lesson and I did not try any further fast moves. I walked Blaze steadily. My men had split the pagan warband and they had been forced to turn across the slope to face us. Our archers now had free rein. When the Earl brought his handful of knights to join us, the skirmish was ended. The pagans fled. Their flight cost them another fifteen men as our archers sent arrows into unprotected backs.
We had lost men. Five sergeants at arms had died in the attack. All of mine were still whole and for that I thanked God. While Alan and his archers ensured that the trail through the wood was clear, the sledges were brought slowly down the slope. Our dead were slung over their horses. We would have to find a time and a place to bury them. The pagans were stripped of weapons and treasure. When we returned home there would still be a war here in Lithuania and Sir Bengt and his brother knights would have a better chance if the weapons of the enemy were denied them.
I rode with the Earl and Sir Bengt as we followed the sledges down the slope. The Earl swept his hand across the white ice around us, “I do not envy you your task, Sir Bengt. These people do not wish to be converted and this is a harsh country in which to fight.”
The Swede nodded, “It is a hard and unforgiving country but once Vilnius falls then the rest will follow. The Hochmeister prosecutes the siege forcefully, my lord, to end the war.”
I shook my head, “I am sorry, Sir Bengt, but the siege was a half-hearted affair. Three towers to take those walls? You were losing more men outside the walls than would be dying of hunger within. Your knights were at Acre when that fortress fell. The Turks had many towers there. It was a lesson which should have been learned.”