The Sword Brothers

by Peter Darman

  ‘They are still your people and you have a responsibility to them,’ she responded firmly. ‘Where there is life there is hope.’

  Conrad looked at her with admiration. In adversity she was lovelier than ever, even with her hair tied back and attired in a simple white dress. At that moment he vowed to himself that should the castle walls be breached, he would leave his post to be beside her, fighting to his last breath to save her. After all, they would all be dead anyway so deserting his post would be irrelevant. He hoped God would forgive him, though. He gazed at her lovingly and forgot about Rameke.

  ‘Are you all right, Conrad?’ asked the chief.

  ‘Mm. What? Yes, of course. Just a little tired,’ blurted Conrad.

  ‘You are both very brave,’ said Daina.

  Rameke rolled his eyes but Conrad smiled shyly and felt his cheeks flush.

  ‘I must return to my duties,’ he said.

  ‘As must I,’ added Rameke, rising from the grand master’s chair.

  Conrad nodded at it. ‘It suits you.’

  Rameke buckled on his sword. ‘What, the chair?’

  ‘No, command and authority.’

  Daina, who had been sitting beside him, jumped up and held Conrad’s hands, then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘For my brave warrior.’

  All three left the master’s hall, Conrad back to the perimeter wall, Rameke to a council of war in the north tower’s newly completed ground floor and Daina to assist in the kitchens that were struggling to feed the dozens of new arrivals. A semblance of order had been restored to the castle following the arrival of the Livs, though the courtyard was full of pens that contained the animals that they had managed to bring, including the oxen that the Sword Brothers had originally given to Thalibald to plough his fields. Conrad looked at them as he passed their pen. How he would like a meal of roast beef.

  ‘Tempted to slaughter one?’

  He turned to see Henke approaching, shield slung over his back and holding a short spear in his right hand and a mace in the other. His own shield was also slung on his back.

  ‘The women and children come first.’

  Henke smiled evilly. ‘Very noble. You’ll think different after a few weeks of being on half then quarter rations.’

  Conrad began walking towards the bridge over the moat. The original timber walls still stood in this part of the castle wall, along with the two towers that flanked the gated entrance. Though the stonemasons and carpenters worked hard, the towers and walls grew but slowly. Rudolf had told him that it might take twenty years to complete the castle – if it survived this summer, that is.

  ‘Been to see the fair Daina?’ grinned Henke, who appeared to be unusually chatty today. Normally he was like an ill-tempered bear and best left alone. The perilous situation he found himself in obviously brought out his talkative side.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Conrad guardedly.

  ‘She will make someone a fine wife, if she lives.’

  ‘She will live,’ said Conrad forcefully.

  They walked over the bridge spanning the moat.

  ‘You fancy yourself as her husband, do you not?’ teased Henke.

  ‘I did not say that.’

  He grinned. ‘You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face. You aim high, boy, I’ll give you that. But you seem to have forgotten one thing.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘You are to become a brother knight, which means you cannot marry anyone. The oath of chastity, though rape and plunder on campaign does not count. So if you want to bed her you’d better be quick about it.’

  Conrad shot him a hateful glance. He respected Henke for his skill with weapons and his loyalty to Rudolf but he did not like him particularly. But he also knew that he did not have the skill with a sword to better him in a fight. Not yet, anyhow. Henke saw the look.

  ‘I offend you? I state the truth, young Conrad.’

  Conrad also disliked being called ‘young’. He was seventeen now and reckoned himself a man.

  ‘I said nothing about marriage to Daina,’ snapped Conrad.

  Henke stopped and rested the end of his spear on the ground.

  ‘Listen, Lukas has said that you have the makings of a fine knight and I accord his word great import. And your actions to date have confirmed this to me.’ He pointed at his white surcoat emblazoned with the arms of the Sword Brothers.

  ‘You wish to wear one of these?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Conrad without hesitation.

  ‘Then you can’t have Daina. You should put her out of your mind rather than torture yourself with things that are beyond your reach.’

  He looked up at the clear blue sky. ‘Wife, child, hearth and home.’

  Then he looked at Conrad. ‘It’s not for you, Conrad. You remember that time when I rescued you and your sister outside the cathedral in Lübeck?’

  ‘When you and Brother Rudolf rescued us. Yes, I remember.’

  Henke smiled. ‘As you will. Well, do you think it was a coincidence that we were there to assist you and thereafter you came to Livonia?’

  ‘I do not know.’

  Henke lifted his spear and strode away. ‘I do. God has a plan for you whether you like it or not.’

  ‘If we all survive,’ Conrad called after him.

  ‘You’ll survive, Conrad. Just put your faith in God and keep your eyes peeled and your sword sharp.’

  The day passed without incident, the Lithuanian horde around the castle being content to cut down more trees for shelter and firewood and keep at a safe distance from the wall. The bodies in and around the ditch continued to bloat and rot, occasionally exploding as the gases built up inside them tearing the putrefying flesh. The incessant buzzing of the flies feeding on their flesh was even worse than the smell and so those on guard duty stood, suffered and waited.

  That night Conrad and Hans resumed their position in their ‘cell’ and peered through loopholes to keep watch on the myriad of campfires that illuminated the darkness.

  ‘There seems more of them than last night,’ said Hans, his face mask muffling his voice.

  ‘I wish they would attack and get it over with. This waiting is driving me insane.’

  ‘Soldiers of Wenden, I bring you a message.’

  Conrad turned to Hans. ‘What?’

  ‘I said nothing.’

  ‘Soldiers of Wenden, I bring you a message.’

  The voice was coming from beneath them, from the berm at the base of the outside of the wall. The both drew their swords and lifted their shields from the floor.

  ‘Soldiers of Wenden, do you hear me?’ hissed the voice in the darkness.

  Conrad pulled down his face mask and knelt by the clearance in the floor.

  ‘Careful, Conrad,’ warned Hans, ‘it might be a trap.’

  ‘State your business,’ ordered Conrad.

  ‘I am from King Caupo and I bring a message for Master Berthold,’ came the reply.

  Conrad felt a sense of relief sweep through, though he was still cautious. Words were cheap and there might be hundreds of Lithuanian warriors waiting to attack.

  ‘Go and fetch Lukas,’ he said to Hans.

  His friend scrambled down the ladder and scurried away to search for Lukas.

  ‘You must let me in,’ pleaded the voice, ‘it is a matter of utmost urgency.’

  ‘Be patient,’ replied Conrad. ‘My commander is coming.’

  For what seemed like an eternity Conrad alternated between crouching by the gap and looking through the peepholes to search for any signs of movement in front of the ditch. He saw none, though there was no moon and it was pitch black between the ditch and the enemy campfires.

  Lukas arrived in the company of Hans and crouched by the gap. He spoke first to Conrad in a whisper.

  ‘Is he alone?’

  ‘As far as I can tell, brother.’

  ‘Who are you and what do you want?’ asked Lukas.

  ‘I am Valdis,’ came
the hushed reply from below, ‘I have a message from my king for Master Berthold.’

  Lukas slapped Conrad on the arm. ‘Welcome Valdis it is I, Brother Lukas. We have met before, at Treiden.’

  ‘Brother Lukas, yes, I remember,’ replied Valdis.

  ‘Listen, my friend,’ said Lukas hurriedly, ‘get yourself to the gates, which are but a short distance to the left of where you are. There is a door in one of the gates that will be opened. Now hurry.’

  ‘Thank you, brother,’ said Valdis.

  Lukas stood and pointed at Conrad and Hans. ‘You two with me.’

  They climbed down the ladder on to the earth rampart and walked to the gates that gave access into the castle grounds. Two sergeants stood guard behind the gates and a further four in the wooden towers that flanked them. Torches secured in wall brackets illuminated the inside of the gates where the sergeants warmed their hands on a brazier, for the spring nights were still cool. Lukas walked over to them with Conrad and Hans in tow.

  ‘Open the door in the gates,’ he ordered.

  The sergeants looked at each other and then at Lukas. ‘Open the gates, Brother Lukas?’ said one.

  ‘That is what I said. A friend of the master wishes to enter.’

  ‘From outside?’ queried the other sergeant.

  ‘Time is of the essence,’ snapped Lukas.

  The sergeants saluted and then walked over to the right-hand gate that had a small door in its left-hand side. The gates themselves were secured by a great oak beam that had been placed in heavy iron brackets so it hung horizontally along the length of the inside of the gates. The latter were also made of oak and had iron reinforcing strips attached to both sides. They were thick and weighty and would make heavy work for a battering ram as Ykintas had discovered to his cost. Lukas drew his sword and held his shield before him.

  ‘Draw your weapons,’ he said to Conrad and Hans, ‘just in case.’

  The sergeants had the same idea because as one unlocked the door that was only four feet in height, the other held his spear pointed at it. When the door swung inwards the other sergeant jumped back and drew his sword as a figure in a black tunic and leggings and black boots stepped through it. He stood and held up both hands in an act of submission.

  ‘It is quite safe,’ said Lukas. ‘Close it.’

  He beckoned the dark-clothed figure over as the door was closed and locked. He held out his hand.

  ‘Welcome Valdis, you are indeed a sight for sore eyes.’

  Valdis took Lukas’ hand. ‘Greetings Brother Lukas, it is good to see you.’

  The Liv was slight of build with a thick black beard and long black hair. It was impossible to estimate his age, though he was certainly not young. He carried only a knife for a weapon, tucked in a sheath that was attached to his belt.

  ‘I have an urgent message for Master Berthold,’ said Valdis.

  ‘Then you must give it to him,’ replied Lukas. ‘Follow me.’

  They strode off on the track, Lukas calling after Hans and Conrad.

  ‘Hans, back to your guard duty. Conrad, go and find Rameke and bring him to the north tower.’

  Conrad slid his sword back in its scabbard and ran past Lukas and Valdis towards the castle. He arrived panting in the courtyard and went to the master’s hall where two Liv guards stood outside the entrance. They barred his way with their spears.

  ‘I have an urgent message for Rameke, that is Chief Rameke,’ said Conrad.

  ‘It is late, the chief sleeps,’ said one of the guards.

  ‘The message is from his king,’ continued Conrad. ‘One of his men just came into the castle with a message from Caupo.’

  The two guards looked at each other and one nodded.

  ‘Wait here.’

  He went inside the hall as Conrad began pacing up and down outside. A few minute later Rameke appeared, buckling on his sword and rubbing his eyes.

  ‘Conrad, what nonsense is this?’

  Conrad smiled at him. ‘No nonsense, my friend. A man named Valdis came over the wall with a message from King Caupo for Master Berthold. I was told to request your presence in the north tower.’

  Rameke looked surprised. ‘Valdis, here?’ He straightened his mail shirt and readjusted his sword belt. ‘Well, let us go and see what news he brings.’

  Daina appeared from the hall, wrapped in a red cloak, her hair wild around her shoulders.

  ‘I’m coming too.’

  ‘I’m not sure that women are allowed at a council of war.’

  She tossed her hair behind her. ‘I am a princess. Of course I am allowed,’ and stepped into the courtyard to walk towards the north tower. Conrad sprinted over to be by her side, followed by Rameke.

  ‘Hello Conrad,’ she said, ‘you bring good news I hope.’

  ‘I am sure of it,’ he replied. ‘You look…’

  He stopped himself from saying that she looked beautiful.

  ‘I look what?’ she queried.

  ‘Warm in your cloak,’ he said quickly.

  She and Rameke looked at him in confusion, then she smiled knowingly, sensing his attraction towards her.

  ‘Do you think I look like a princess?’ she asked coyly.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ purred Conrad. He was clearly soft clay in her hands.

  ‘We are here now,’ said Rameke irritably. ‘You had better wait outside, Daina.’

  She opened the door to the tower and went in. ‘Nonsense.’

  The ground floor of what would be a three-storey tower would eventually be a storeroom but at present was a large empty space with a rectangular table placed in its centre, around which were stools. A stone stairway adjacent to the wall opposite the door led to a trapdoor in the wooden roof and gave access to what would be the second storey, when it was built. There were no windows in the walls at this level and thick wax candles on the table, filling the room with a ghostly glow, provided the only lighting.

  Master Berthold had been roused from his slumbers and now sat at the head of the table, Valdis on his right and Rudolf on his left. Lukas was seated next to the Liv and Henke sat beside the deputy commander. Stoneware jugs sat on the table, from which people helped themselves to wine. It was all very different from the wealth and finery of the bishop’s palace in Riga.

  Berthold saw Daina and smiled. ‘I fear the discourse of men might bore you, princess.’

  ‘I would hear what my king has to say, Master Berthold.’

  He held out his hand for her to sit at the table, Valdis rising and bowing his head to her and to Rameke who took his seat opposite Berthold. Henke poured wine into cups and passed them to Daina and Rameke while Conrad stood back from the table, feeling awkward. Rudolf noticed him and nodded. Henke shook his head and smiled. Lukas turned to him.

  ‘You can serve wine, Conrad, if you would.’

  He went to the table and picked up one of the jugs, refilling Berthold’s cup as Valdis relayed his message.

  ‘After the battle at Lake Inesis and the death of Chief Thalibald,’ he said, casting his eyes down, ‘the king retreated north to Treiden, there to rebuild what remained of his army. His scouts have been observing the Lithuanians since that unhappy day and have been reporting back to him the events that have taken place south of the Gauja.’

  ‘And what are those events?’ asked Berthold.

  ‘The Lithuanians have encircled the castle of Segewold and send raiding parties towards Riga but as yet Daugerutis makes no move to take his army west. It remains at Wenden but has been weakened by the departure of the other dukes since the assault against these walls.’

  ‘Why did they leave?’ asked Rudolf.

  ‘I do not know,’ replied Valdis. ‘But my king judges that the inertia of the Lithuanians is a sign from God that they should be attacked here, at Wenden. To this end he has gathered every man and boy that can carry a weapon and intends to strike the heathens at dawn the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes,’ hissed Conrad without thinking, which earned him stares
of rebuke from the Sword Brothers, though not from Daina who flashed him a smile. Henke saw it and laughed.

  Berthold frowned. ‘Is something amusing you, Brother Henke?’

  Henke held up his cup for Conrad to fill. ‘No, Master Berthold. I was thinking that we should send out young Conrad against the enemy. With his luck he could probably kill Daugerutis on his own and save the rest of us the effort.’

  Berthold was not amused. ‘This is not the time for levity, Brother Henke. Livonia is in peril and the Sword Brothers are stretched thinly.’

  ‘Daugerutis may have brought many men to Wenden, master,’ snarled Henke, ‘but how many of them are soldiers? How many can fight?’

  ‘Enough,’ said Valdis. ‘I know, I was at Lake Inesis.’

  ‘The king wishes us to strike the enemy when he attacks?’ said Rudolf.

  Valdis nodded. ‘Master Mathias and the horsemen of Kremon will be accompanying the king when he crosses the river and strikes at the enemy camp. He feels that the addition of the garrison of Wenden will decide the outcome in his favour.’

  ‘I and my men will be joining the garrison,’ stated Rameke.

  ‘The king greatly laments the loss of your father, Chief Rameke,’ said Valdis, ‘and hopes to convey his commiserations to you in person following the battle.’

  ‘If he and us are still alive,’ remarked Henke dryly.

  ‘Do not the Lithuanians have scouts of their own to warn of such an attack?’ Lukas asked Valdis, holding up his cup for Conrad to fill.

  ‘They grow lax in their discipline, Brother Lukas,’ replied Valdis, ‘so confident are they that Livonia is already theirs.’

  ‘Did you see my father fall?’ said Daina suddenly.

  ‘I did not, princess,’ said Valdis softly. ‘He and your brother gave their lives so that the king could live. It was a brave and selfless act.’

  Daina looked very sad and Conrad had to restrain himself from putting his arms around her.

  ‘I am glad that the king still lives,’ she sighed. ‘I hope my father and brother are in Heaven.’

  ‘They reside with the angels along with all those who have martyred themselves in God’s service,’ said Berthold with conviction. ‘And they will be avenged.’