by Peter Darman
‘Feel free to collect it any time,’ remarked Conrad.
Lembit tugged on his reins to turn his horse. The bishop raised his hand to the brother knights who bowed their heads and he and the pagan chief continued their journey.
‘Arrogant bastard,’ spat Henke.
‘Who, the bishop?’ grinned Lukas.
‘No good will come from letting Lembit live,’ said Henke.
Rudolf prodded his horse forward and leaned over to speak to Conrad. ‘Lembit holds a grudge against you, Conrad, you must take care.’
‘I thought he was our ally now, Brother Rudolf.’
‘In this world allies can turn into enemies in the blink of an eye. Watch yourself.’
But Conrad quickly forgot his chance meeting with Lembit when the army reached Wenden and the bishop and the pagan continued their journey on to Riga. The rest of the army followed, Caupo leaving it to take his warriors back to Treiden and Thalibald and his sons returning to their village.
He had other things on his mind as the garrison settled back into is daily routine of patrols and training, the brother knights and sergeants also attending the prayer sessions that divided their day. Johann was excused duties until his ankle healed, Ilona treating his injury with her herbal concoctions that seemed to aid his recovery to a remarkable extent. It had been the same with Abbot Hylas whose back had healed and who now had taken to sitting in the chapel most days mumbling to himself. He wore a fresh white habit but refused to take off the crucifixes that Lembit had placed around his neck after the execution of his monks. He thus wore four around his neck, which jangled whenever he walked anywhere. He was very fond of Ilona who had tended his wounds but rarely spoke to anyone else.
‘His mind has gone,’ she said as she left the dormitory after dressing Johann’s ankle.
Conrad had offered to carry her box of potions as she made her way back to her hut below the castle.
‘I can heal his wounds but not his mind. The ordeal that he was subjected to has destroyed his faculties. Poor man.’
They made their way across the courtyard to the large gatehouse that was now growing up from its foundations.
‘He will never recover?’ asked Conrad.
‘It is in God’s hands now.’
She sensed that Conrad was in a pensive mood by the way his mind seemed to be elsewhere, that and his eagerness to carry her medicines. She noticed that he kept glancing at her and then at the ground as though he was trying to summon up the courage to ask her something. After a few minutes she could bear it no more.
‘What is on your mind, Conrad?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Are you sure? There is nothing you want to ask me?’
He shook his head more vigorously. ‘No. Well, yes, but…’
She stopped and faced him. ‘Then ask me and put us both out of our misery.’
He stared at the ground to avoid her eyes. ‘I was wondering if, well, if you would ask someone something.’
‘Someone?’
He smiled furtively. ‘Yes.’
‘And does this someone have a name?’
‘Brother Rudolf,’ he whispered.
‘Who?’
‘Brother Rudolf,’ he said more loudly.
‘Rudolf.’
He nodded.
‘This is like pulling teeth,’ she sighed. ‘I have things to do.’
With that she strode away, Conrad walking briskly after her.
‘Ilona, wait.’
‘What do you want me to ask Rudolf?’
‘I wish to marry Daina.’
She stopped and turned to face him, a knowing expression on her face. ‘So, we finally come to it. You are to be made a brother knight soon, along with Anton, Hans and Johann?’
He nodded.
‘And if you take your vows you can never marry,’ she continued. ‘But you feel torn between your love for Daina and your desire not to let Rudolf and the order down.’
He said nothing but the anguish in his eyes told her that it was so.
‘And you think that Rudolf’s affection for me will soothe his anger if I tell him that you wish to marry the daughter of Thalibald.’
He nodded enthusiastically.
‘I will not do it.’
His jaw dropped. ‘But…’
‘But, but, but? But what? What would Rudolf think of you if he learned that you had asked a woman to do your work for you, or the other brother knights for that matter?’
‘I just thought it might be easier coming from you,’ he muttered.
‘This is no easy matter, Conrad. What you desire is a great thing. Daina is the daughter of a chief and you are but a novice.’
His heart sank at her words. He knew she spoke the truth but he could not give up on his dream.
‘I will not give her up,’ he said defiantly.
‘That’s more like it,’ she said. ‘We must strike while the iron is hot. Go to my hut and wait for me there.’
She turned and walked back towards the castle.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Just wait at my hut,’ she instructed him.
Twenty minutes later he was pacing up and down in front of Ilona’s small wooden dwelling, the children of the civilian workers running in a pack between the huts of their parents, when she and Rudolf appeared.
‘Conrad has something to ask you, don’t you Conrad?’ she said, opening the door to her hut and beckoning them both inside.
The hut was a simple square abode with a bed against one wall, a table and two chairs against another and shelves fixed to another wall. There was no window. A candle stood in a metal dish on the table and baskets full of herbs rested on the floor. Ilona sat in one of the chairs and offered the other to Rudolf, leaving Conrad standing.
‘Spit it out, then,’ said Rudolf.
Conrad stood erect and swallowed. ‘Forgive me, Brother Rudolf, but I wish to marry Daina.’
Rudolf said nothing as he looked at Ilona whose eyes flitted between him and Conrad. The brother knight then looked at the novice.
‘I see.’
‘The thing is, brother,’ stuttered Conrad, ‘I love her and…’
Rudolf lifted his hand to still him.
‘If you are considering marriage I would hope that you do love your intended bride. What do you want of me?’
Conrad made to speak but discovered he had nothing to say. He had believed that if he broached the subject with Rudolf then…. Then what? Ilona rolled her eyes.
‘Conrad saved my life a short while ago.’
‘And mine on the ship that first brought him to Livonia,’ added Rudolf.
‘And since that time he has wounded Lembit and saved the life of the Bishop of Riga,’ she continued. ‘And yet now he dithers and acts like an imbecile.’
Rudolf laughed. ‘He is very quick in battle. Perhaps you could administer one of your herbal cures.’
‘There is no cure for what he has caught, I fear.’
Rudolf stood. ‘This is what I am going to do, Conrad. I shall write to Thalibald requesting his presence at Wenden tomorrow, informing him of the reason why his attendance is vital, after which I shall inform Master Berthold that you wish to marry the chief’s daughter. If Thalibald does not cut off your head then we shall see if the master will release you from your obligations.’
A tide of relief swept through Conrad. ‘You are most kind, Brother Rudolf.’
Rudolf jabbed a finger in his chest. ‘I am merely setting events in motion. I have no idea how they will turn out. Do not thank me yet.’
That evening Conrad went about his tasks with gusto, offering to clean the swords of his three companions after he had helped to muck out the stables. At vespers he prayed for his family, his friends, the order and also asked God to look favourably upon his desire for Daina’s hand.
The next day Thalibald arrived, accompanied by his son and a dozen warriors armed with spears and swords and wearing helmets and mail armo
ur. The chief himself was resplendent in steel lamellar armour, helmet, aventail, green tunic and rich leather boots. As Caupo’s deputy he was expected to dress like a great warlord. Rameke had also come with his father to Wenden, no doubt having been told of Conrad’s intentions. He had known for a while, of course, and Conrad prayed that he had not revealed so to his father. He also hoped that Daina had not been promised to another, for Thalibald was held in high esteem throughout Livonia and many a Liv chief would welcome an alliance between his family and that of Caupo’s right-hand man through a marriage between Daina and one of his sons.
After their morning training session, during which Conrad and the other two novices had taken part in riding manoeuvres with the other brother knights, he told Anton and Hans of his intentions.
‘Are you allowed to leave the order?’ enquired Hans.
‘I do not know,’ said Conrad.
‘If you are allowed to do so, where will you live?’ asked Anton.
‘In Thalibald’s village, I assume,’ replied Conrad, not knowing if he would even be made welcome there.
After he had taken his horse back to the stables, unsaddled it and brushed it down, a sergeant arrived with orders that he was to go the master’s hall immediately, announcing that he had been ordered to escort him there.
Hans offered his hand. ‘Good luck, my friend.’
Anton also proffered his support.
‘The master is waiting,’ snapped the sergeant.
Conrad, his face pale and his mouth dry, left the stables with his stony faced escort beside him. They walked across the cobbled courtyard, Conrad’s mind racing with thoughts of what kind of reception was awaiting him. By the time the sergeant opened one of the thick oak doors that led to the interior of the master’s hall he was sweating with apprehension.
The sergeant left him after he had been shown into the main chamber of the master’s hall. The door was closed behind him and he looked nervously at those seated at the long oak table in front of him. In the centre was Master Berthold, flanked by Rudolf on his left and Thalibald on his right. Lukas was seated to the left of Rudolf and Rameke sat next to his father. The silence was oppressive as the master looked up at Conrad.
‘Step closer,’ he ordered.
Conrad took two paces forward and then stopped, hands by his side and his back as straight as a spear. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Berthold’s brown eyes regarded him coldly.
‘Brother Rudolf has informed me that you no longer wish to become a brother knight of our order, even though you would ordinarily have been a sergeant were it not for the beneficence of the Bishop of Riga.
‘Furthermore, Brother Rudolf has also informed me that in your impertinence you desire nothing less than the hand of the daughter of Chief Thalibald in marriage.
‘Is all that I have stated correct?’
Conrad was aware of a scribe seated at a desk to one side who was noting the exact words of Master Berthold.
‘That is correct, master.’
Berthold stroked his beard. ‘I should have you flogged for your brazenness. However, your great valour in battle merits your case being considered as opposed to being treated with contempt. I am aware that during your time at Wenden you have saved the life of the bishop himself.’
‘And mine, master,’ interrupted Rudolf.
‘As well as the life of Daina herself,’ added Rameke, which earned him a glare of rebuke from his father.
‘Indeed,’ said Berthold. ‘Well, it would appear that you are quite the hero, Master Conrad. Brother Lukas, as the one who has been responsible for his training, what is your opinion of this novice?’
‘Conrad would have made a fine brother knight, master. He is brave, intelligent and has a desire to learn.’
Berthold tapped his forefingers on the table. ‘I would be remiss to lose such a soldier, would I not? Chief Thalibald, I would hear your words on the matter as it is your daughter that this young man is fixed upon.’
‘My daughter needs a husband,’ said Thalibald bluntly. ‘I have seen this young man numerous times in my village assisting with the harvest and Rameke has informed me of my daughter’s affection for him, though that is irrelevant. I know that he and others,’ he nodded at Lukas, ‘saved my womenfolk from Estonian raiders and I also know that there are several Liv chiefs who wish to see their sons married to my daughter.’
Conrad’s heart sank and he knew his love was lost.
‘Still,’ Thalibald sniffed, ‘if I deny them and give her to this young man I can save myself a hefty dowry. I assume the order will not require me to pay a dowry, Master Berthold?’
‘Indeed not,’ said Berthold.
Thalibald rubbed his nose. ‘Then I leave the matter to you, Master Berthold.’
‘Might I say something, master?’ said Rudolf.
‘By all means, Brother Rudolf,’ replied Berthold.
‘I would like to look beyond the immediate matter at hand to address the future of Livonia.’
Berthold’s brow furrowed and Lukas looked surprised at his comrade but Rudolf continued.
‘I believe I am correct in saying that at present there are no marriages between Livs and Germans in Livonia, or this region of it at least. Chief Thalibald, are any or your peoples’ women married to Germans?’
Thalibald racked his brains for all of half a minute. ‘Not to my knowledge.’
Rudolf smiled at him. ‘Exactly. Would it not be therefore prudent to encourage marriages between native and settler to strengthen the bonds between the two and thus safeguard the future of Livonia? After all, that is what our order exists for.’
Thalibald looked confused and Lukas bemused and in truth it was a weak argument. However, Berthold was clearly bored by the whole matter and considered the aspirations of a novice hardly worth considering. But he did value the opinion of his deputy and for some reason Rudolf seemed to be championing this young man and so he gave way, or at least did away with his responsibilities.
‘In this matter,’ he announced, ‘I fear I must play the part of Pontius Pilate and wash my hands of the matter. I hand over judgement to Chief Thalibald whose opinion I value above all others.’
‘I think Conrad would make an excellent addition to your household, father,’ said Rameke hurriedly.
‘Well, I know he is good with a sword and I suppose I am in his debt,’ said Thalibald. He pointed at Conrad. ‘If I give you my daughter do you swear not to demand pigs, cows, ponies or land from me or my two sons?’
Conrad was beside himself with joy. ‘I swear, lord. Of course, I swear never to make any demands on you or your household. I swear that I will be a faithful servant, I swear…’
‘Thank you, Conrad,’ said Rudolf. ‘That is enough swearing for one day.’
Berthold, relieved that this inconsequential matter had at last been brought to an end, rose from his chair. ‘You may go, novice Conrad.’
Conrad bowed to him and all the others, desperately trying to conceal the wide grin that was creeping over his face. He felt as though he was floating as he left the master’s hall and went to tell his comrades that he was going to marry Daina. His time with the Sword Brothers was over.
He left Wenden two days later, saying his goodbyes to those who worked in the kitchens, the surly armourers and leather face. In the armoury he handed back his mail armour, gambeson and kettle helmet, unbuckling his sword belt and, with a heavy heart, handing it to the chief armourer, along with his axe and dagger.
‘Hold,’ came a voice behind him.
He turned to see Lukas approaching the armourer. ‘I’ll have those.’
‘Make your mind up,’ said the armourer, who like the others believed that the weapons and armour kept in the blockhouse were their personal property, to be jealously guarded.
Lukas took the belt, scabbard and sword and handed them to Conrad. ‘Sir Frederick gave this sword to you, Conrad, so it should accompany you wherever you go.’
‘It’s the
property of the Sword Brothers,’ grumbled the armourer.
‘And I say it belongs to him,’ said Lukas firmly, ‘unless you would rather I bring the master to confirm my order.’
The armourer mumbled something under his breath but did not protest.
‘The axe and dagger too,’ said Lukas.
The armourer sighed deeply and handed him Conrad’s weapons. Lukas passed them to Conrad.
‘Come Conrad,’ he said, ‘the air is objectionable in here.’
They walked into the courtyard, Conrad bucking his belt as they made their way across the cobbles, through what would eventually be the gatehouse and across the bridge.
‘It will be a drawbridge when the gatehouse has finished,’ said Lukas. He held out a hand to Conrad.
‘Thank you, Brother Lukas,’ said Conrad, taking the outstretched hand.
‘You are a fine soldier, Conrad, and would have made an excellent brother knight.’
Conrad felt a pang of remorse. ‘I hope you do not think ill of me.’
‘Of course not. You have followed your convictions, and there are few men in this world who do that. I will see you at your wedding.’
Conrad walked down the track that led to the outer perimeter, through the ever-increasing spread of huts towards the open gates that led out of the castle and south to his new life. Spearmen and crossbowmen were practising drills and on his right two riders in full armour were galloping towards each other, lances couched. There was a bang and one of the riders toppled from his saddle, the other bringing his horse to a halt and removing his helmet. Conrad recognised the broad shoulders and powerful body as Henke drew alongside the brother knight he had just unhorsed and spoke a few words to him.
Conrad continued on, children and geese crossing his path as the wind brushed his face and the sun shone on his back. This summer had a glorious feel about it. He heard hooves behind him and looked round to see Henke approaching, drawing his warhorse alongside.
‘So, you are to be a farmer.’
‘I will battle the land now, Brother Henke, instead of the Estonians.’
Henke looked at Conrad’s sword. ‘I wonder what Sir Frederick would say if he knew that his sword was going to hang in a village hut?’