The Sword Brothers

by Peter Darman

  ‘Through God’s strength to pilot me.

  God’s might to uphold me,

  God’s wisdom to guide me,

  God’s eye to look before me,

  God’s ear to hear me,

  God’s word to speak for me,

  God’s hand to guard me,

  God’s way to lie before me,

  God’s host to save me from snares of devils,

  From temptations of vices,

  From every one who shall wish me ill,

  Afar and near,

  Alone and in multitude.

  I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,

  Against every cruel and merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,

  Against incantation of false prophets,

  Against black laws of pagandom,

  Against false laws of heretics,

  Against craft of idolatry,

  Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,

  Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.

  Amen.’

  Once seated Archdeacon Stefan wasted no time in reporting the outrages committed against Abbot Hylas and his monks, which produced a wave of anger in the hall, particularly among the crusaders.

  Stefan held up his hands. ‘Brothers, we cannot allow such acts to go unpunished. The defeat of the Lithuanians and the presence of our brave crusaders from Germany,’ he smiled at Sir Helmold and Count Horton, ‘means that we can now undertake the conquest of Estonia, which I propose should commence immediately.’

  The crusader lords banged the table to signal their agreement but Grand Master Volquin stood and folded his arms. Stefan frowned when he saw him staring in silence at the lords opposite, the din gradually dying down as they noticed him.

  ‘You have something to say, grand master?’ said Stefan.

  Volquin unfolded his arms. ‘We have recently and with some difficulty defeated a Lithuanian invasion that inflicted heavy casualties upon King Caupo’s forces.’ He extended a hand to the king.

  ‘Furthermore,’ continued Volquin, ‘it will soon be winter and the land will be frozen, and whilst it is possible to campaign with small-sized forces in such conditions a large army will be difficult to maintain. We all remember the losses among our brave crusaders when the garrison of Wenden stormed Fellin.’

  ‘And if the Sword Brothers had occupied that pagan fortress,’ snapped Stefan, ‘then likely we would not be in this predicament.’

  There were murmurs of agreement from the crusader lords until Sir Helmold told them to be quiet. He at least knew the difficulties of campaigning in Livonia.

  Volquin was unperturbed. ‘Archdeacon, you may remember that the attack on Fellin was a raid only, designed to illustrate our strength to Lembit.’

  ‘He seems to have forgotten the lesson,’ remarked Stefan sourly, prompting laughter among the crusader lords.

  Volquin sat down. ‘And may I remind everyone that two years ago Livonia was in such straightened circumstances that the bishop had to negotiate a peace treaty with the Estonians and the Lithuanians.’

  ‘The Lithuanians are no more,’ said Stefan dismissively.

  ‘Lembit cannot go unpunished, grand master,’ said Theodoric.

  ‘I know that, lord bishop.’

  Stefan was going to say something but Theodoric stilled him. ‘Then what do you propose?’

  Volquin stood again. ‘A winter raid into Estonia followed by an invasion of Lembit’s territory in the spring when the bishop returns.’

  His subordinates were nodding their heads, as were Caupo and his chiefs, but the crusaders were most unhappy.

  Count Horton rose from his chair. ‘We have three thousand soldiers sitting on their arses here and all you propose is a raid?’

  Volquin smiled at Horton. ‘My lord, you will find that the cold of Livonia can whittle down an army in a short space of time, the more so since it will have to sit in front of the walls of Lembit’s fortresses in addition to forming a defensive screen to defeat any attempts at relief.’

  ‘Lembit’s fortresses, as you call them,’ sneered Stefan, ‘are nothing but timber forts that can be burned with ease.’

  Horton and the other crusader lords laughed, though Sir Helmold was staring reflectively at the tabletop.

  Volquin held up his hands. ‘It is as you say, archdeacon, and as the bishop’s representative the final decision rests in your hands. The Order of Sword Brothers will gladly ride beside you when you lead the army against the pagans. Give the order and I can assemble my forces at Riga in two weeks.’

  Stefan blanched and it looked as though he was going to panic as all eyes turned in his direction. But his wits, probably his greatest asset, did not desert him. His eyes narrowed as he regarded the grand master and his calculating demeanor returned.

  ‘We have been remiss,’ he said, ‘for in our thirst to punish Lembit we have allowed ourselves to become discourteous.’

  The Sword Brothers and crusader lords looked at each other in confusion.

  Stefan rose from his chair and held out his arms towards Caupo. ‘It is only fitting that we hear from one who grew up in this land, a man whose opinion the bishop always seeks before he embarks upon a campaign, as will I.’

  ‘That’s news to me,’ Volquin whispered to Berthold.

  Stefan smiled at the somewhat surprised Caupo and sat down. The king could not remember a time when the archdeacon had even been civil to him, let alone seek his opinion. However, he took the opportunity that was being presented to him, slowly rising to his feet. He looked at the row of crusader lords, for it was they whom he had to convince.

  ‘If you fight Lembit now, the snow will be on the ground before you are able to march. If you march in the winter your great warhorses will die from exposure, and after them your squires and then your foot soldiers. If, as Grand Master Volquin desires, you mount a properly organised raid into the enemy’s lands, leaving your great horses behind and travelling light but with proper provisions, then you will achieve your aims and will live to take part in the bishop’s great campaign when he returns in the spring.’

  Sir Helmold smiled at the king as he sat down but his lords were silent as they weighed up his words. As Christian knights they were compelled to avenge the wrongs done to Abbot Hylas and his monks. However, the thought of losing their precious warhorses dampened their enthusiasm. Losing a squire was of less import.

  ‘Once again your majesty illuminates proceedings with the light of your wisdom,’ said Stefan, who then turned to the crusaders. ‘I think it would be prudent, my lords, to leave the details of the raid to his majesty and the grand master, and to gird our loins for the great battle with the devil’s servants in the spring.’

  Volquin, feeling mischievous, raised a hand.

  ‘Yes, grand master?’ said Stefan.

  ‘Does this mean that you will not be leading the army against Lembit?’

  ‘Did you not hear his majesty, grand master?’ said Stefan gruffly, ‘to undertake a major campaign in the winter is to invite disaster. I have been charged with safeguarding the bishop’s interests, not squandering his forces in an exercise in vanity. You surprise me, grand master.’

  ‘And you never fail to amaze me, archdeacon,’ replied Volquin.

  The archdeacon heard the slight but let it go, though the other Sword Brothers could not resist smiling.

  ‘So it is agreed,’ said Theodoric, ‘we raid the enemy this winter and wait until the bishop’s return in the new year before finishing Lembit once and for all.’

  ‘God willing,’ said Volquin.

  ‘Ay, God willing,’ replied Theodoric.

  ‘There is also the matter of Gerzika,’ remarked Stefan, ‘and more specifically how we are to deal with Prince Vsevolod.’

  ‘He should die,’ spat Sir Helmold.

  ‘I am apt to agree with Sir Helmold,’ said Caupo. ‘Despite his apparent close relations with the bishop he did nothing to alert us of the in
vasion of the Lithuanians and, when they were butchering my people, he did not send troops to aid our cause.’

  ‘We should march on his city right away,’ shouted Count Horton, to thunderous applause from his fellow lords.

  Volquin once again rose from his chair. ‘My lords, noble though your intentions are Gerzika lies nearly a hundred miles to the east of this town. We cannot raid Estonia and assault Gerzika at the same time.’

  ‘But Vsevolod must be punished for his treachery,’ said Theodoric, the lords murmuring their approval.

  ‘And he will be, lord bishop,’ said Volquin, ‘only not this year. He is, after all, not going anywhere.’

  ‘He is not at Gerzika,’ said Stefan, ‘he is in Lithuania.’

  Volquin was most surprised. ‘Oh?’

  ‘The river gossip talks of Vsevolod being in the stronghold of his dead father-in-law, along with his wife and children,’ continued Stefan. ‘He is now grand duke of the Lithuanian tribes, or at least those who have remained loyal to the memory of his wife’s father. Vsevolod will not be able to keep peace among the Lithuanian tribes and resist an assault against Gerzika.’

  ‘Then let us sail down the river and storm it,’ suggested Count Horton.

  ‘It is still garrisoned,’ said Stefan, ‘and its defences are strong and will require siege engines to breach.’

  ‘You seem to know much about Gerzika, archdeacon,’ remarked Volquin.

  ‘I make it my business to know about the bishop’s enemies, grand master,’ replied Stefan.

  ‘Be that as it may,’ said Theodoric. ‘Gerzika will have to wait until Lembit has been crushed. We deal with the Estonians first and then Prince Vsevolod. Does everyone concur?’

  He looked at the crusader lords who said nothing, smiling at Caupo when he caught the eye of the king. Volquin’s serious face nodded his approval and so the meeting was concluded with everyone standing whilst Theodoric asked for God’s blessing on the decisions they had taken.

  The next day there was a meeting in the grand master’s office, which was crowded as his castellans and their deputies crammed into the room to petition Volquin on their requests for supplies. He told them that Stefan had refused to authorise the release of armour, weapons and supplies from the well-stocked storerooms and armoury in Riga’s castle until the bishop had returned from Germany.

  ‘We need the supplies now, grand master,’ insisted Master Friedhelm.

  ‘We also need money to pay our mercenaries,’ said Master Berthold. ‘We may fight for God but they kill for money and if they do not receive their wages then they will pack up and leave.’

  ‘It is true, grand master,’ added Master Griswold. ‘My mercenaries are already complaining that they have not been paid in six months. They will not go another half year without pay.’

  Volquin held up his hands. ‘Brothers, I hear your pleas and have given a great deal of thought to the matter of money. Archdeacon Stefan believes that he has the Sword Brothers over a barrel but I will show him that our order is not the plaything of a jumped-up office boy.’

  Volquin picked up a number of parchments from his desk and held them up.

  ‘We all know that the Dvina is a highway along which goods flow to the markets in this town, and that merchants pay tolls for the privilege of trading here. They get rich and the bishop’s treasury fills with gold. My brothers, it is time that we dipped our toes into the rich waters of the Dvina.’

  He smiled and looked up to see a row of blank expressions.

  ‘It is quite simple,’ he said. ‘Along the Dvina travel boats filled with fur, flax, timber, tar, corn and hides. And when these Russians and Lithuanians sail or row to Riga they have to pass the castles of the Sword Brothers.’

  ‘Our castles along the Dvina provide security for the merchants,’ said Master Gerhard.

  ‘Indeed they do,’ concurred Volquin. ‘And now they will discover that security has to be paid for.’

  ‘You wish us to plunder shipping on the river?’ asked Master Friedhelm.

  Volquin feigned shock. ‘Plunder, Master Friedhelm? We are the knights of Christ. We do not plunder, we protect. No, no. We exact a small tax, that is all, in order to raise the funds that will allow us to supply our brother knights and sergeants and pay for our mercenaries. In doing so I do not have to trouble Archdeacon Stefan with petitions, thereby giving him more time to address matters of state, such as the colour of the seat covers in the bishop’s palace.’

  The others laughed.

  ‘He will not like it,’ warned Master Berthold.

  ‘I will have to take that chance,’ replied Volquin.

  He handed one of the parchments to Master Griswold. ‘This document authorises you to stop and search all vessels that pass by Kokenhusen. It also instructs you to levy a tax on any vessels carrying furs and hides, the precise amount stated on the document.’

  He next handed a parchment to Master Aldous. ‘Lennewarden will levy a toll on those vessels carrying flax.’

  He handed the last two parchments to masters Friedhelm and Gerhard, telling them that Uexkull would tax vessels carrying timber and tar while Holm would impose a levy on boats transporting corn and other crops.

  ‘In this way we will raise enough money to maintain our garrisons. All monies collected will be evenly divided between the castles along the Dvina and along the Gauja. And may God bless our enterprise.’

  Berthold and Rudolf went back to Wenden in a far happier mood than when they had made their journey to Riga, though they and the other garrison commanders wondered about the reaction of Archdeacon Stefan when word reached him that the Sword Brothers were levying taxes on the Dvina’s commerce.

  ‘He came to this land the bishop’s young nephew who had been taught to read and write,’ said Berthold. ‘And now he has the ear of Bishop Albert, is the governor of Riga and has the town garrison and militia at his command.’

  ‘He made himself indispensible to the bishop,’ remarked Rudolf, ‘and has been richly rewarded. But to what end?’

  ‘To what end? To our friend the archdeacon ambition is an end in itself. As his power and position grows so does the fear that he may lose it all. And that makes him dangerous.’

  Rudolf thought of the pale-skinned, slightly portly archdeacon with his feminine hands and laughed. ‘Dangerous?’

  ‘Not all enemies wear armour and carry swords, Rudolf.’

  *****

  The winter was the most severe that anyone could remember. The Dvina and Gauja froze solid and the lakes and smaller rivers and streams became as hard as iron. Christmas was celebrated at Wenden as usual and Master Berthold welcomed not only Thalibald and his family but also the German settlers who shivered in their newly built huts. And as usual Conrad and the other novices served the Christmas meal to the master and his guests in the dining hall. It had snowed nearly every day in December and the whole garrison had been employed in shovelling snow to clear the courtyard, track and walkways between huts, though Lukas always made sure that they did not neglect their training.

  They undertook exhausting patrols on foot, wading through the deep snow with snowshoes fashioned from branches on their feet. When it stopped snowing the skies were clear and blue, the land an endless sea of pure white. When the sun shone it reflected off the snow and ice and could lead to snow blindness, so they wore eye protectors: wooden masks that were carved to fit the top half of the wearer’s face. Tied behind the head with leather thongs, they had long, thin slits cut in them for the wearer to see through that allowed only a small amount of light to enter. Anton thought they looked ridiculous but Lukas told them that it stopped them going snow blind and such masks were worn by the hunters of the far north where the night never came.

  It was bitterly cold but beautiful, though not as beautiful as Daina who graced the castle for three days at Christmas. Conrad was allowed to walk alone with her in the courtyard and within the perimeter, Rudolf informing him that her father held him and the other novices in high
regard, but him especially as he had saved the bishop’s life.

  ‘Just remember that a knight thinks more of a maiden’s honour than he does his own life.’

  ‘I would never besmirch her honour, Brother Rudolf. But I’m not a knight.’

  ‘You will be soon,’ said Rudolf, ‘a knight of Christ.’

  But he was not thinking of being a knight as he walked with Daina in the courtyard towards the bridge across the moat.

  ‘My father thinks highly of you, Conrad,’ she told him. ‘If you asked him for my hand in marriage he would say yes.’

  His heart soared and he could not suppress a smile. ‘He said that?’

  She stopped and turned to face him, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘He does not have to. I know my own father.’

  He wanted to grasp both her hands but resisted the temptation, aware that sergeants and brother knights were going about their business.

  ‘I want nothing more, my love, but…’

  A frown creased her forehead. ‘But what?’

  ‘In the new year the great campaign against Lembit will begin. I wish to be a part of it.’

  Daina’s frown was replaced by concern. ‘You will go to war again?’

  ‘Of course, that is why I was brought here all those years ago. Once Lembit is defeated there will be peace in Livonia and then we can be married.’

  She was disappointed, he could see, but he could not desert his companions.

  ‘Next year Hans, Anton and Johann will be made brother knights but I will choose to leave the order and marry you, Daina, if you will wait that long.’

  She smiled at him and leaned closer. ‘I will wait for you, my heart. Just ensure that you come back from your war.’

  He felt like a conquering hero. ‘I always come back. In any case, Brother Rudolf has said that such is the size of the army that will march against Lembit that he will probably give up without a fight.’

  ‘And then we can be married?’

  It was his turn to smile. ‘And then we can be married, though I don’t know where we shall live.’

  ‘In my father’s village, of course,’ she replied. ‘He will give us a hut and we will keep pigs and goats and share in the harvest. And in the winter we will hunt elk and wolves and wrap ourselves in wolfskins. And I will bear you strong sons and you will become the headman of your own village in time.’