The Sword Brothers

by Peter Darman

  ‘There is nothing to fear. It is a single crack across our line of march and thus will not lessen the carrying capacity of the ice. The ones to watch out for are large cracks that appear parallel to the line of march. They indicate an exhausted carrying capacity and a new crossing must be sought away from them.’

  Anton slapped Hans on the back. ‘See, nothing to worry about.’

  There was a loud crack and everyone’s eyes turned right to see one of the squires fall through the ice. It was as if sorcery had been used to make him disappear. One moment he was there and the next he was gone. Rameke was the first to react, running over to where the hole had appeared in the ice.

  ‘Move further to the right,’ he shouted at the other squires who had halted to stare at the hole into which their companion had disappeared.

  ‘Do not halt on the ice,’ cried Rameke as he knelt down and crawled on his belly towards the hole in the ice. Conrad and Johann raced after him.

  ‘Hold my ankles,’ Rameke said to them as he inched towards the hole. From the far bank came a group of Sword Brothers as the other squires led their horses to the right and away from the weakened ice. Rameke thrust his arm into the black water and then ducked his head under in a vain attempt to see the squire. He lifted his head and gasped for air.

  ‘He’s gone.’

  He inched backwards and then rose as Conrad and Johann did the same.

  ‘Do not stand still on the ice,’ he told them, heading back to the line of sleighs they had left. ‘The knights on horseback have weakened the ice, that is why it collapsed.’

  ‘That idiot Sir Frederick,’ remarked Johann.

  ‘He will have to clean his own armour now,’ said Conrad.

  Rameke saw Rudolf, Henke, Lukas and three sergeants from Wenden approaching. He pointed at the ice hole. ‘Have a care,’ he shouted, ‘the ice is weak there.’

  The Sword Brothers joined the three boys and walked with them to the river’s northern bank.

  ‘Brave but foolish, Rameke,’ commented Rudolf. ‘What would your father say if you had fallen into the water too?’

  ‘That he has another son to carry on his line, lord.’

  Henke laughed. ‘Well said, but Rudolf is right, young wolf cub. You should die with a sword in your hand in battle not drowning in freezing water.’

  Lukas pointed at Johann and Conrad. ‘That goes for you two as well. I have not spent hundreds of hours training you to use weapons so you can go swimming under the ice.’

  ‘Does that mean we will be getting weapons when we reach our destination, Brother Lukas?’ asked Conrad hopefully.

  ‘Certainly not.’

  That night another squire and four crusader horses died of exposure.

  The army’s camp was established a mile north of the river and the next morning Sir Frederick, his knights and lesser armoured knights, the brother knights and sergeants of the Sword Brothers rode out of camp to raid the countryside around Fellin. The spearmen, squires and crossbowmen remained to escort the sleighs and support personnel the short distance to Fellin, there to establish siege lines around the fort and to await the return of the horsemen. Lukas was left behind to command the foot soldiers and the sleighs. It was a beautiful winter’s day, the sun bright in a blue, cloudless sky. There was no wind but Conrad could see his breath misting as he walked along the track leading to the enemy fort. After an hour the column of men and sleighs began to skirt the western shore of a great frozen lake nestling in the middle of a forested valley. This was an area of rolling hills, valleys, lakes and rivers but as yet they had seen no villages or farms.

  ‘That is because Fellin is on the southern boundary of Saccalia,’ said Lukas when Conrad had questioned him about the lack of dwellings along their route. ‘There are villages around Fellin but these are being cleared as we speak.’

  Half an hour later columns of black smoke began to appear in the distance as the horsemen that had left earlier raided the Estonians. Conrad and the other boys nudged each other and pointed at the six smoke columns in the sky. They were still marching adjacent to the shore of the lake but the pace slowed as Lukas gave the order for the crossbowmen and spearmen to stay close to the sleighs. Thalibald and his scouts had returned. Fellin was now only a mile to the northwest and Lukas was concerned that there might be a war party of Estonians in the forest that lay on their left flank, though Thalibald had seen no signs of the enemy.

  The Estonians may have had scouts out but they used them to shepherd those villagers living nearest the fort into its confines, for when the army finally arrived at Fellin the walls of the fort were lined with warriors. The stronghold stood on a hillock half a mile to the northwest of the lake that the army had marched alongside. It was a square-shaped timber fort of some strength, having towers with shingle roofs in each corner and more roofed shooting positions on the walls between the corner towers. The walls themselves were over twenty feet high and at least four hundred feet in length on all sides. At the base of the hillock, surrounding the fort on all four sides, was a moat, the main entrance to the stronghold being located on its eastern side.

  When the crusader army had appeared the warriors on the walls and in the towers had started to whistle and jeer, though none attempted to shoot any arrows as it was well out of range. Conrad stood with Hans and the others watching the commotion as Lukas began talking with a tall, very thin elderly man with a wispy white beard and deathly pale skin. The latter was pointing at the fort and then turned to point at the collection of sleighs and packhorses that stood south of the stronghold. Lukas nodded and walked back towards the boys. Conrad had seen the elderly man before at Wenden but had given scant regard to him.

  ‘Who is that man you were talking to, Brother Lukas?’ he said.

  ‘Master Thaddeus, chief engineer. We’ll make camp a hundred paces back from this spot so he can set up his siege engines. Unload the tents.’

  He strode off to converse with Thalibald and the commanders of the foot soldiers as the garrison of Fellin began cheering and then broke into some sort of war song, the words of which the boys did not understand but which nevertheless unnerved them. As the order was relayed throughout the column to establish camp, sleighs were unloaded and tents pitched. Conrad kept glancing at the Estonian warriors observing them, the sun glinting off whetted spear points and axe blades.

  ‘Do you think they will attack us?’ said Bruno.

  ‘They fear our knights on horseback,’ answered Anton.

  ‘Except the knights are not here,’ said Conrad, looking around anxiously.

  ‘We should be issued with swords,’ said Johann.

  ‘At least we would die with weapons in our hands,’ added Hans.

  They all stopped working and stared apprehensively at the fort, the garrison of which was still singing its mournful war song.

  ‘Is there a religious holiday I am not aware of?’ Lukas appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

  ‘Holiday, Brother Lukas?’ enquired Anton.

  Rudolf folded his arms in front of him. ‘I was merely wondering why you had stopped work.’

  ‘We were watching the enemy, brother,’ said Conrad, ‘for signs they might attack.’

  ‘You saw those columns of smoke in the sky earlier?’ said Lukas. ‘Well that means our horsemen are burning Estonian villages, which means that the garrison in that fort knows that there are mail-clad men on horseback in this area, which means that they will stay behind their timber walls where they are safe. Now, if that is an adequate explanation perhaps you could all kindly return to your duties.’

  ‘We think that we should be armed, Brother Lukas,’ said Conrad, looking at the others who nodded optimistically. ‘So as to be able to defend ourselves.’

  Lukas rubbed his beard. ‘Mm, I see. I will consider your impudent request. Meanwhile, get the tents erected.’

  It was noon before all the tents had been pitched, the camp filling the ground between the lake and forest to the south of the fort to a distanc
e of at least a quarter of a mile. Lukas established a line of crossbowmen and spearmen beyond the camp’s northern extent as a precaution against a sally from the garrison. But the latter grew tired of watching tents being erected and singing and left the battlements. Two hours after noon the knights returned.

  They returned with bloodied lances and herding a score of prisoners before them, all of them men of different ages. Some were wounded and had torn tunics. They resembled the Livs in appearance with their brown tunics, white shirts, and grey leggings with gaiters. Many of the horsemen carried sacks of grain behind them – plundered from the villages they had burnt.

  The appearance of the knights signalled the reappearance of the garrison on the battlements, but this time there was no signing or jeering as the warriors watched the knights dismount and lead their horses and ponies through the camp to the corrals that were being sited in its centre. After pitching the tents Lukas took the boys over to where Thaddeus was organising the positioning of the siege engines. The engineers were unloading the constituent parts from sleighs prior to their assembly.

  ‘These are trainees of our order,’ Lukas said to Thaddeus, ‘and it will help their military education if they could observe your machines being assembled.’

  Thaddeus was wrapped in a great cloak of brown bear and had a fox fur hat on his head but he was still shaking from the cold. ‘Yes, yes, of course. Most useful.’

  The imposing figure of Sir Frederick came towards the chief engineer, sword still in his hand and blood spots on his surcoat bearing a unicorn.

  He ignored Lukas. ‘When will the machines be ready?’

  Thaddeus was intimidated by his demeanour and retreated a few steps. ‘Tomorrow they will be ready, my lord.’

  ‘Tomorrow? We attack the fort today, within the hour, and I expect your machines to be able to support our assault.’

  ‘An assault now would be inadvisable,’ said Lukas.

  ‘We have burnt their villages and now we take their pile of sticks,’ he spat dismissively.

  Lukas remained calm. ‘If you assault the stronghold you will fail.’

  Sir Frederick’s eyes narrowed as he observed Lukas in his mail and surcoat, his coif resting on his shoulders and his sword in its scabbard. He wanted to provoke Lukas so he could display his prowess with a blade but he had seen the ruthlessness of the Sword Brothers earlier when they had butchered villagers with abandon. He also knew that Lukas and his few brother knights at Wenden had defended the castle against heavy odds last year.

  ‘I do not need machines or the Sword Brothers,’ he said contemptuously.

  Sir Frederick may have been arrogant but he did not lack for courage, helping to carry an assault ladder and leading the attack against the fort’s southern wall. Despite the efforts of Master Berthold to persuade him otherwise, he organised assault parties of his knights and spearmen, covered by the quarrels of crossbowmen. Master Berthold added the crossbowmen of the Sword Brothers to his force, who crouched down and shot at the warriors on the walls as the crusaders, shields held before them, rushed to the moat, scrambled down and up its sides, up the earth bank and placed their ladders against the timber wall.

  Rudolf had walked over to speak to Lukas. He kept looking at the fort and the dozens of crusaders rushing towards the wall and shaking his head. The crossbowmen had stopped shooting because the walls were empty.

  ‘You will not need your machines today, Thaddeus,’ said Rudolf to the chief engineer.

  Lukas looked at him and then Rudolf. ‘What do you think, Rudolf, one attack or two?’

  ‘Only one,’ sighed Rudolf. He looked at Conrad. ‘Where do you think the Estonians have gone?’

  ‘They must have fled,’ declared Conrad with confidence. The other boys nodded in agreement.

  They could see Sir Frederick ascending his ladder, one of a dozen that had been placed against the wall. Like ants his men were scrambling up them in a seemingly irresistible wave. And then the ramparts erupted in a blast of noise as the Estonians leapt up and hurled stones and spears down upon the heads of the crusaders. Conrad stared in horror as men were knocked off their ladders by stones or were pierced by spear points. The deluge of missiles was overpowering and stopped the attack dead in its tracks. Sir Frederick managed to use his shield to deflect stones and spears as he inched back down his ladder, bellowing orders for those beneath him to move aside, but in a matter of minutes a score of his men were killed and a further six wounded. The crossbowmen began shooting as soon as the Estonians appeared and Conrad thought he saw warriors being hit, but the attack had been defeated. As quickly as the Estonians had appeared they vanished and the crossbowmen ceased their shooting. There were still ladders propped against the wall and limp bodies of crusaders hung from two of them. The crossbowmen covered the retreat of Sir Frederick and his men as they trudged disconsolately back to camp and then there was silence. It was as if the attack had never happened.

  ‘Never underestimate your enemy, Conrad,’ said Rudolf. He pointed at the fort. ‘Those men died for nothing. A stupid waste.’

  ‘We will be needing your machines in the next few days, Master Thaddeus,’ said Lukas.

  The next morning, following mass and breakfast, Lukas summoned Conrad and the other boys to his tent. He stood in the entrance as they lined up before him. The sun was a pale yellow ball hanging low in the eastern sky and once again there was no wind. It would be another very cold day. Lukas was wearing boots over his mail chausses to prevent them rusting in the snow.

  ‘I have something for you all,’ he said, grinning. ‘Your weapons.’

  They all smiled at him and each other as they waited to be issued with their swords.

  Lukas pointed at Conrad. ‘Step forward, Conrad.’

  He did so, a look of triumph on his face, as Lukas reached for something behind the tent flap and handed Conrad an axe.

  ‘I do not understand, brother,’ he said, his face etched with disappointment.

  ‘It is an axe, Conrad, with which you can cut down trees.’

  Lukas ordered the others to come forward and gave axes to both Anton and Johann, while Hans and Bruno were given a large saw with a handle at each end. Lukas saw their disappointed looks.

  ‘You all saw the abortive attack yesterday. Well now you will learn how to conduct a proper siege.’

  Conrad looked dejectedly at his axe. ‘With axes and a saw?’

  Lukas slapped him on the arm. ‘You will see.’

  They followed Lukas into the forest where squires and mercenaries were busy hacking and sawing at trees. Conrad also saw Rameke and raised his hand to him, noticing that the son of Thalibald was also engaged in chopping wood. His father and half the Liv warriors had left the camp just after dawn to form a defensive screen to the north, west and east of the fort, both to ensure that nothing and no one entered Fellin but also to give the crusaders prior warning of the approach of any relief force. This was thought unlikely because Lembit’s warriors would be in their winter quarters: the villages that dotted Saccalia. It would take him weeks to assemble a sizeable army. Still, his own stronghold of Lehola was relatively close and once word reached him that there was a crusader army at Fellin he would no doubt lead some sort of relief effort. If that happened it was imperative that they had prior knowledge of his whereabouts.

  After they had walked two hundred paces into the forest Lukas halted and ordered the boys to gather round him.

  ‘Sieges are not all about charging heroically at the enemy with scaling ladders. Yesterday should have taught you that at least. We are here to take the fort, not to provide easy targets for the garrison. So we establish defensive lines around it, fill in the moat to allow the siege tower to approach the wall and manufacture mantlets for the crossbowmen.’

  Hans was confused. ‘Mantlets?’

  ‘Mobile defensive screens,’ answered Lukas, ‘behind which the crossbowmen can get close to the walls without being shot down and there to provide covering missile volleys f
or the attackers. Your task is to cut the wood so that they can be created.’

  And so they spent the whole morning cutting down trees to provide the materials to create wooden screens for the crossbowmen. Some of the carpenters were on hand to organise the different categories of timber that were required: the lower trunks to fill in the moat, the thicker branches and tops of the trunks for the mantlets. Fir boughs were also collected so that the horses and ponies could be bedded down during the siege.

  Conrad and the others stood beside a pine as Lukas pointed to the other teams cutting down trees at widely spaced intervals.

  ‘You may think that felling a tree is easy but as with all things there is a right way and a wrong way to go about it. Hans and Bruno step forward.’

  Conrad had to admit, notwithstanding his disappointment at not having been issued with a sword, he found the tree cutting interesting as Lukas explained to them how it should be done.

  ‘First of all you must know the height of the tree to discern the spot where the top will fall when it is felled. Now this pine is about fifty feet so we’ll say seventeen footsteps. Anton, mark it out. Walk from the trunk that distance into the forest.’

  Anton did as he was told and then stood and turned when he had walked seventeen paces.

  ‘So,’ said Lukas, ‘that is where the top of the tree will fall. We want the tree to fall in the direction that Anton walked, which is the safest direction for it to fall so it won’t kill anyone working to the left or right of us.’

  ‘What about Anton?’ asked a concerned Hans.

  ‘Oh, he will stand where he is and be killed when the tree falls,’ replied Lukas.

  Johann was appalled. ‘Really?’

  ‘No, not really,’ said Lukas. ‘Hans and Bruno, stand either side of the tree and with your saw notch the tree on the side facing the direction in which you want it to fall. That is, towards Anton.’

  They did as they were told and began to make a straight cut into the tree at waist height with the saw. Lukas recalled Anton as the two cut into the tree, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads from the exertion. When they had sawed halfway through Lukas instructed them to make a downward cut at a forty-five degree angle that went to the centre of the tree and hit the first cut. This created a large wedge that Johann knocked out with Lukas’ hammer.