The Sword Brothers

by Peter Darman

  ‘Where’s that?’ asked Hans, who had managed to scrounge some dried biscuits and was shoving them into his mouth.

  ‘A place called Riga,’ answered Conrad. ‘I asked Brother Rudolf.’

  ‘Is it a city?’

  Conrad peered over the gunwale at the water below to see if he could spot any fish. ‘I don’t know. Brother Rudolf said that it had been founded by Bishop Albert nine years ago so it can’t be a city.’

  Another biscuit went into Hans’ mouth. ‘Will we live there?’

  ‘I do not know.’

  Hans shrugged. ‘Anywhere will be better than Lübeck.’

  Conrad nodded. ‘Yes, it will.’

  Hans pointed out to sea, towards the northwest. ‘Do you think they are from Riga?’

  Conrad looked up and stared in the direction Hans was pointing, to see four small boats on the horizon. They appeared not to be moving but that was only because they were so far away. Conrad went back to peering at the sea, convinced that they would catch nothing today.

  Suddenly the ship’s bell start to ring and frantic activity broke out on the boat. The sailors began to furl the sail and the mercenaries began donning their mail armour and helmets, the crossbowmen unpacking their weapons from their waterproof crates. Conrad and Hans stood up and looked at each other in confusion. Moments later Rudolf, attired in mail armour, surcoat and helmet in hand, was before them.

  ‘Store those rods and join your comrades at the mast. Be quick!’

  ‘What is happening?’ asked Conrad.

  Rudolf pointed to the four ships in the distance. ‘Those are Oeselian ships.’

  The name meant nothing to Conrad. ‘Oeselians?’

  ‘Pirates who desire to kill us and take our ships. Now move.’

  Conrad and Hans took the rods below deck and then re-emerged to stand beside the other youths at the mast. The sails of both ships had now been furled and the vessels were being lashed together so that they would be side by side. The boys looked at each other nervously. No one spoke but they all knew that danger was approaching fast. Walter, now dressed in his full war gear, was kneeling on deck deep in prayer, his helmet resting on the deck beside him. Rudolf had been organising the transfer of some of the spearmen and crossbowmen from their own cog to the other vessel but now he strode over the boys, Henke following him.

  ‘Can any of you use a crossbow?’

  Conrad looked at Hans and then at the others. He certainly had no knowledge of the weapon but Anton raised his hand.

  ‘I do,’ he said nervously.

  Henke walked forward and handed him one.

  ‘Good. Take this.’

  He passed Anton a crossbow and then a quiver filled with bolts made of seasoned yew measuring around a foot in length. Each one was winged with thin strips of leather. Henke watched more of the spearmen and crossbowmen scramble over the gunwale onto the deck on the other boat.

  ‘You denude our numbers, Rudolf.’

  Rudolf smiled at his friend. ‘I have to protect the stonemasons and their families. They will be no use to us if their loved ones are butchered and we need enthusiastic stonemasons in Livonia.’

  He looked at the youths grouped before him. ‘Stonemasons are more valuable than urchins.’

  Conrad was hardly fortified by Rudolf’s words and became decidedly queasy when he was handed a shield and a spear from those brought from below deck by the mercenaries who had remained on their cog. The captain and sailors had also equipped themselves with an assortment of weaponry, including swords, spears and short axes, and stood ready at the stern. The defence of the prow was left to Rudolf, Henke, half a dozen spearmen, the same number of crossbowmen and Conrad and his companions. The spearmen formed a line as the crossbowmen advanced to the bow and knelt down, resting the stock of their weapons on the side of the boat. Their quivers were slung over their shoulders by means of a leather strap, their faces covered my mail coifs and their bodies protected by thick padded coats called gambesons that reached down to below their knees.

  While Anton clutched his crossbow Henke showed Conrad and the others how to hold their shields: passing their left arms through two leather straps on the back and grasping a pair of cross-straps further along with the hand, the back of which rested on a stuffed pad. Though large, having a height of around four and half feet and being two feet wide, the wooden shield faced with hide was surprising light, Conrad thought. He gripped the iron-headed spear tightly, hoping that he would not have to use it.

  The shields of Rudolf and Henke were shorter and curved to better fit the contours of their bodies, each sporting a red cross over a red sword. Their helmets had flat tops with the face-guards joined to the neck-guards to produce a completely enclosed helmet. Walter also had a similar helmet and as he finished his prayers he picked it up and then strolled over to stand beside the two Sword Brothers, his face a mask of steely determination.

  The enemy was close now and Conrad could hear the shouts of the Oeselian rowers as they pulled on their oars to get their longboats nearer to the now stationary cogs. Slim, fast with pointed bows and sterns, each longship had forty pairs of oars to propel it through the water. Two men pulled on each oar and another man held the side-mounted rudder at the rear. Oeselian tactics were simple but effective: board an enemy ship, kill its crew and take it as plunder, along with anything in its hold. Because they were rowed into battle the longships had to approach their target head-on to prevent their oars being smashed against the side of the enemy vessel. This meant that the raiders had only a narrow point of access onto the lashed-together cogs, which sat higher in the water. The oars could, if necessary, be retracted to allow a longship to lie alongside an enemy vessel, but this meant that it could not be withdrawn speedily if things did not go according to plan. Longships were too valuable to risk this. Its crew was expendable; the vessel was not.

  Conrad felt his heart pounding in his chest as Rudolf spoke to him and his companions.

  ‘I know that you are frightened and have not been trained in the arts of war. But you are not alone and it is better to stand here on deck and face your attackers side by side with your brothers rather than hiding in the hold. Have faith in God and He will protect you, his chosen warriors. God with us!’

  Henke and Walter shouted ‘God with us!’ and the youths tried to be brave. Hans looked even more gaunt and pale while Bruno and Johann were shaking. Only Anton seemed calm, though the truth was that he was preoccupied with ensuring his crossbow was armed and ready rather that thinking about the enemy.

  Henke nodded at the stern-faced Walter who put on his helmet and drew his sword, his shield bearing a black lion on a white background, his white surcoat bearing the same coat of arms. He looked at Rudolf.

  ‘A fine speech. Let us hope that the Oeselians show these lads some mercy.’

  ‘Have faith in our crossbowmen, Henke,’ replied Rudolf, slapping his friend on the arm before placing his helmet on his head. Henke did the same and then they waited for the enemy.

  The longships had now divided into two groups; the two vessels on either end circling round the cogs so they could direct their bows at the boat containing the civilian workers and their families. The other two attacked Conrad’s vessel. He could hear no grunting now as the longships’ momentum carried them towards their targets and their crews prepared to board the cogs.

  Conrad’s heart missed a beat as he heard cracks coming from the crossbowmen kneeling by the starboard gunwale as they shot their weapons and knew that the battle had begun. The spearmen held their shields over the gunwale to provide cover for the crossbowmen who were loosing bolts at the enemy. Their targets were those warriors on the longship who were throwing grappling irons attached to ropes to enable other men to scale the side of the cog.

  Conrad heard shouts and screams as Oeselians were felled by quarrels and relief swept through him. This was not so bad after all. Then the air was filled with spears and axes as the Oeselians threw a deluge of missiles against th
e shields of the spearmen in an effort to clear the crossbowmen from the gunwale. Conrad watched in horror as a spear came over the row of shields towards him, raising his own shield at the last moment to deflect it away from him.

  ‘Use your shields,’ Rudolf screamed at them as a single-handed axe thudded into the mast above Hans. Another axe thudded into Johann’s shield, splintering the top edge though missing his head. The boys instinctively huddled together and locked their shields as the missiles clattered into them, above them and around them. Conrad’s mouth was dry and his breathing was heavy as fear coursed through him. He thought he would foul his leggings as his stomach turned to mush, but then his attention was drawn to the right of the line of mercenaries where a grapping iron suddenly bit into the gunwale. Rudolf, Henke and Walter were preoccupied with dodging the rain of spears and axes that were still coming on to the boat and did not see it. But Conrad did.

  ‘Hans, look!’ he shouted.

  He looked at Hans and then at the grappling iron and then saw two hands and a helmet appear. They had been boarded. The captain and sailors at the stern had also been under a deluge of missiles from the second longship alongside and had taken shelter beneath the gunwale. The Oeselians in the first ship had been held back by the crossbowmen and had taken refuge behind their shields but the men of the second ship were free to scale the rope attached to the grappling iron.

  Walter saw it too and now ran forward to thrust the point of his sword into the eye socket of the first Oeselian. The man screamed and fell back onto the others behind him, temporarily halting the boarders. But then another grappling iron appeared and then another, and suddenly two Oeselians jumped on deck. Both were bearded brutes, one wearing a mail corselet that extended to below his knees and armed with a great two-handed axe, a round shield strapped to his back. The other wore a short-sleeved mail tunic and was armed with a shorter axe, carrying a large, round shield painted red and yellow in his other hand. Walter did not hesitate but immediately attacked them, jumping to the side to avoid a great scything blow from the larger axe and catching a blow from the smaller axe on his shield. Rudolf and Henke also spotted the boarders, who had been joined by two more of their comrades, and went to assist Walter, Henke bringing his sword above his head and then whipping it down to slice the calf of an enemy warrior armed with a spear and shield. The man yelped in pain and then fell silent as Henke thrust his sword point into the man’s neck, before falling in beside Rudolf who was fighting on the left side of Walter.

  More Oeselians came on board as the crossbowman on the far right of the line spotted a man hauling himself over the gunwale and shot him in the chest, causing him to collapse back onto his comrades. At the stern the captain and his men were also hacking with their swords and thrusting with their spears, keeping the Oeselians at bay but at a price.

  An Oeselian armed with sword and shield jumped on deck and approached the line of spearmen and crossbowmen that were still keeping the crew of the first longship at bay. He drew back his sword to despatch the mercenary who had killed his comrade and was shot by a quarrel as Anton released the trigger on his crossbow. The boys cheered and congratulated him as the mercenary turned and raised his hand in acknowledgement. But the battle was becoming fiercer as more and more Oeselians came aboard. Rudolf, Henke and Walter fought with a grim determination, deftly wielding their swords to fend off attackers and cut faces and legs. Conrad noticed that their strikes were concentrated against enemy faces and necks mostly, with low blows being directed against unprotected thighs and calves. He also saw the brute with the two-handed axe bring the massive iron head of his weapon down on Rudolf’s shield, splintering it and forcing the Sword Brother on to his knees. The man tried frantically to wrench the metal free of the shield as Rudolf desperately jabbed his sword at him, for he knew that if the Oeselian freed his weapon the next blow would split his skull. And then Conrad charged.

  He did not know why he did so. Perhaps it was because God had infused him with courage. Or maybe it was the reaction akin to a cornered animal that fights out of fear and desperation. But more likely it was because he had had been witnesses to his parents’ deaths and had been unable to do anything. And now Rudolf, the man who had shown him and his sister mercy and kindness, was helpless just like his parents had been. Only this time Conrad had a weapon in his hands and somewhere within him came the urge to use it. So he ran forward, screaming at the top of his voice, and stabbed the spearhead into the axe man’s mail corselet. The latter was well made and thick and the point hardly pierced it, but the attack was totally unexpected and the Oeselian stopped trying to free his weapon from Rudolf’s shield and looked down at his pierced armour. He released his axe and angrily grabbed Conrad’s spear blade and threw it aside, then drew his sword and raised it to spilt Conrad’s skull, just as Hans shoved his spear through the man’s throat.

  Rudolf threw aside his shield, jumped up and swung his sword at the man’s head, the edge cutting deep into the Oeselian’s skull and knocking him to the ground.

  ‘God with us!’ he shouted and then attacked the enemy warriors grouped behind the dead axe man. He was their chief, their captain, and seeing him felled made their attack falter. They began to lose heart when horns were sounded from the first longship whose crew had been unable to board the cog, signalling a retreat. Walter killed a man with a thrust into his armpit and then cut down another who was attempting to leave the boat, while Henke barged over a warrior and then rammed his sword into the man’s chest as he lay helpless on the deck.

  Bruno and Johann were attempting to battle an Oeselian armed with a sword and shield but their efforts were being soundly defeated. The warrior lopped off the head of Bruno’s spear and then barged him with his shield, knocking him down. Johann tried to stab the warrior with his spear but the Oeselian was too quick and spun round to face the now very nervous youth quivering behind his shield. Conrad saw his predicament, picked up his spear and threw it at the Oeselian, hitting him in the lower left leg. The man grunted in pain and turned to glare at Conrad. But the strike had the desired effect for the man yanked out the spear point from his leg and limped to the gunwale, sheathed his sword, threw his shield on his back and disappeared down the rope to his longship.

  The fighting was over now, the deck littered with half a dozen Oeselians that had been killed. The longships disengaged from the cog as their oarsmen rowed backwards to pull away. Rudolf ran to the opposite gunwale and leapt onto the other cog. But happily that had not been boarded and the extra spearmen and crossbowmen he had assigned to its defence had beaten off the other two longships with ease. The civilian workers and their families emerged from the hold shaken but unharmed. When he returned to Conrad’s ship Walter had taken off his helmet and was already on his knees giving thanks for their salvation. Conrad was hugging and congratulating the other boys and thought it the greatest victory the world had ever seen.

  Rudolf, now helmetless, came over to them as they were basking in their mutual admiration.

  ‘They might come back,’ he warned, instantly deflating their spirits. He pointed at the mercenaries standing at the gunwale.

  ‘Those men are professional soldiers. They will not let down their guard until the enemy has disappeared from view. You all should join them.’

  And so Conrad and his companions stood beside the mercenaries and watched the longships disappear into the north, back to the island of Oesel, their lair. Walter finished his prayers and came to Conrad’s side.

  ‘Well done,’ he said, the first words he had spoken to him during the voyage.

  ‘Well done, indeed,’ agreed Rudolf, slapping Conrad on the shoulder, ‘and well done to all of you boys. You will make fine soldiers.’

  They grinned coyly as the Oeselians disappeared from view and the mercenaries stood down and rested their weapons and shields against the gunwale. Henke was already assisting the sailors throwing the dead Oeselians overboard, having stripped them of anything useful first.

  A
s the captain ordered an issue of ale to be made to everyone Rudolf pulled Conrad aside.

  ‘You saved my life, Conrad. I thank you.’

  Conrad could feel his cheeks blush.

  ‘But never throw your only weapon away. If your spear had missed him or if you had been attacked by another enemy soldier afterwards what would you have done? In battle the man who keeps his wits about him stays alive, remember that. All the same, I am in your debt.’

  That afternoon everyone assembled on deck to witness the burial at sea of three of the cog’s sailors who had been killed in the fighting, two more on the other ship also being consigned to the sea.

  The experience of combat, albeit brief, had forged a bond between the boys and afterwards they became much more relaxed in each other’s company. Anton, who was from a wealthy family and who had been somewhat aloof and disparaging towards the others, especially Hans, was now much more agreeable and forthcoming. Rudolf encouraged their bond, knowing that it would serve them well when they faced even greater dangers. He had been greatly impressed with Walter who, despite his piety, had shown himself to be an accomplished killer like Henke. The latter thought it hilarious that his friend had nearly been cut in two by an Oeselian axe. But Rudolf was most pleased that his civilian workers had been unharmed in the fight. They would be worth their weight in gold when it came to establishing Christian rule among the heathens.

  Two days later they landed at Riga.

  *****

  Olaf heard the shouts from inside his longhouse, stopped sharpening his sword and slid it back in its scabbard. The increasing noise could only mean one thing: the return of his son Eric. He buckled his sword belt round his waist and went outside to see men, women and children running to the shoreline to greet his oldest child.

  ‘Eric is back?’

  He turned to see Dalla, his wife, wearing a smile, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. She loved all her four boys but Eric was her favourite; indeed, Eric was everyone’s favourite. The handsome warrior who would be the future king of his people, if he did not get himself killed first.