by Peter Darman
‘Is it true that they sacrifice babies?’
Conrad tried hard not to laugh. ‘I have not heard so, lord.’
Sir Richard looked around at the trees that stretched for miles either side of the column of men and wagons behind them.
‘It seems strange that we march to assist a pagan.’
‘Better that he fights by our side, lord, than with Lembit against us.’
‘Brother Conrad wounded Lembit a few years back, scarred his face,’ said Master Mathias, ‘when his warriors tried to take Wenden.’
Sir Richard looked at Conrad who was at least ten years younger than him. ‘Perhaps you will get a chance to give him another scar soon.’
Conrad thought of his wife and child and the wolf shields who had killed them. ‘If God wills it, lord.’
But he prayed that he would be given a chance to face Lembit on the battlefield.
After a thoroughly miserable and lengthy march, during which forty beasts had died of heart attacks due to excessive exertions pulling wagons through mud, peat bogs and marsh when the rear of the column inadvertently strayed off course, the crusaders finally reached Odenpah. The name meant ‘bear’s head’ on account that the fort looked like the head of said animal when viewed from the side. It was sited upon a huge hill positioned in the middle of a large expanse of grassland surrounded by thick woods. The stronghold had two levels, an exterior timber wall extending all the way round the lower level and an inner wall encompassing a great hall on the higher, upper level. It was certainly an impressive stronghold.
Kalju himself rode out to greet the army as it made its way towards the twin gates that gave access to the fort’s lower level. The chief galloped to where the two masters and Sir Richard sat on their horses, a great banner bearing a golden eagle carried by his bodyguard behind him. Both Rudolf and Conrad were in attendance when the chief halted before the Christian leaders as he had never before met Sir Richard, Bertram or Mathias.
He raised his hand to the knights wearing white surcoats, the masters sporting the insignia of the Sword Brothers. But Sir Richard wore no coat of arms because he thought his actions had disgraced his family’s honour and he was therefore not fit to bear its heraldry.
‘Welcome to Odenpah,’ beamed Kalju, who spotted Conrad. ‘And greetings to you, Conrad Wolff.’
Conrad bowed his head as Kalju invited the lords to a feast he would give in his hall in celebration of their arrival. All his soldiers were invited to attend but the lords were horrified at the idea and told him that the army would pitch its tents in front of the fort where it would remain until such time as the enemy appeared.
That night the first snow fell to herald winter in Estonia.
The next day, as the sky in front of the fort filled with the smoke of dozens of campfires, Kalju escorted the Sword Brother masters and Sir Richard on a tour of his stronghold. Also in attendance were Rudolf and Conrad to act as interpreters, and Master Thaddeus. Odenpah had been constructed in traditional style, with high timber walls and towers at regular intervals. The towers were roofed over with shingles and there was a walkway along the whole extent of the wall that connected all the towers, though it was not covered. Warriors in leather and mail armour and helmets manned the towers but the walkway was clear.
The higher, inner timber wall was shorter in extent but also contained towers. Between the two walls were huts, stabling areas and animal pens. As they walked along the wall Kalju noticed that Master Thaddeus kept looking at the area between the walls, the upper level of the fort and then beyond the outer perimeter to the grassland that surrounded three sides of Odenpah. On the northern side of the fort was a small lake that came right up to the slope of the hill on which Odenpah was built. There was a small gate in the northern wall that allowed the garrison to fetch water from the lake.
Kalju nodded towards Thaddeus who was mumbling to himself.
‘Who is that old man?’
‘Master Thaddeus,’ replied Rudolf.
‘One of our most important men,’ added Conrad.
Kalju pointed at the doddering figure wrapped in felt boots, a padded jacket and fur-lined cloak who carried no weapons and talked to himself.
‘Him?’
‘He is our chief engineer,’ said Rudolf, ‘a man who can batter down walls with his machines.’
Kalju was not convinced but was happy enough to allow the old man to follow them as he showed the crusaders the walls, towers and then hall, barracks, stables and huts that were sited on the hill’s upper level, within the inner wall. They were impressed by the fort’s position, strength and layout, though not by the fact that it was filled with the old, women and children.
‘I have gathered the elderly, women and children from the surrounding villages,’ said Kalju when they sat with him in his hall, a cavernous wooden structure filled with huge oak pillars that supported the high roof. A fire raged in the stone hearth in the centre of the hall, filling it with smoke despite the openings in the ceiling.
‘How many warriors do you have here,’ asked Bertram.
‘Just over four hundred,’ replied Kalju.
‘That few?’ said Sir Richard, Rudolf translating for him.
Kalju shrugged. ‘I have to garrison the other forts in my kingdom so they too can provide safe havens for my people when the Russians come.’
Thaddeus was squinting at Kalju, not understanding his words and becoming more frustrated.
‘Are you ill, Master Thaddeus?’ enquired Conrad.
‘No, but you can speak my words for me, young Conrad,’ said Thaddeus.
But before he spoke a woman entered the hall: tall, wearing a green woollen skirt and long-sleeved brown tunic. She had wild hair and as she came closer Conrad noticed that she had green eyes.
‘Ah,’ said Kalju, spotting her, ‘this is my wife Eha and the mother of my two sons and three daughters.’
She smiled at the crusaders who rose and bowed their heads at her.
‘Dusk,’ said Conrad.
They all looked at him with amusement.
Kalju laughed. ‘That is correct, Conrad, Eha means “dusk” in our language.’ He pointed at Conrad. ‘Eha, this is Conrad Wolff who speaks our language and has fought many battles in his short life.’
Eha smiled at him and tilted her head. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Conrad Wolff.’
Master Thaddeus cleared his throat.
‘Master Thaddeus would like to say something.’
Before he spoke Kalju ordered beer and food be brought to the hall, his wife sitting beside him at the table that was hastily arranged by servants, who proceeded to pile it with wooden bowls and platters loaded with meat, fish and bread. Other slaves brought strong honey beer that was served to Kalju, his wife and the crusaders. Conrad took a gulp and then stood as Master Thaddeus began talking, Conrad translating his words as the engineer began pacing up and down and wagging his finger at the others.
The fort was very strong and could be held against a far superior attacking force, notwithstanding the women and children who would eat up supplies very quickly during a siege. Thaddeus said that it would be better it they were sent away. Was there any possibility of this? Kalju said no. Thaddeus then asked him how many archers he had at Odenpah. Less than fifty. Thaddeus frowned but stated that the best course of action therefore would be to line the outer wall with all the crossbowmen and archers they possessed, but stockpile bolts and arrows along the inner wall in the event that the outer wall was taken by the foe. The latter would soon discover to their cost that missiles could be shot down on them from the high, inner wall.
He next addressed the issue of the moat.
‘What moat?’ said Kalju.
Odenpah was built on an oblong hill and below the outer wall was a sloping earth rampart but there was no moat.
‘The one that your men and the soldiers that have marched here are going to dig,’ Thaddeus told him.
Bertram, Mathias and Sir Richard looked at each other in co
nfusion.
‘That is correct, my lords,’ said Thaddeus without the need for translation. ‘Your men will assist in the creation of a moat that will surround the fort to add another layer to its defences. Please continue to translate, Conrad.’
Thaddeus told Kalju that he was amazed that no one had thought of the idea of creating a moat, especially as a nice-sized lake abutted the north side of the fort. He was now pacing up and down, lecturing those seated like a tutor before his students. Kalju was amused, the crusaders bemused as Thaddeus informed the chief that some of the huts and other buildings between the outer and inner walls would have to be demolished to accommodate his mangonels.
‘What are they?’ asked Kalju.
‘Machines for throwing large objects,’ answered Thaddeus. ‘But the immediate priority is the construction of the moat.’
‘The Russians could be here any day,’ remarked Kalju.
Thaddeus stopped and stood to face the chief. ‘Well, my lord, I suggest we begin digging as soon as possible.’
And so they did, hundreds of men sweating and cursing as they dug and hacked at the earth at the base of the fort’s rampart under the watchful eye of Master Thaddeus and his engineers. Kalju sent out mounted patrols to keep watch for the enemy but they returned with the happy tidings that no Russians had been spotted. As the snowfall grew steadily heavier and the ground harder, at Odenpah both Ungannians and Christians started to believe that the enemy would not come.
*****
‘You will march against Odenpah immediately,’ ordered Mstislav. ‘You should have taken it earlier in the year but instead you amused yourself with burning and raping instead on focusing on taking the Ungannian stronghold.’
Domash bristled at the insult but kept his tongue. He knew better than to contradict the prince when he was in a rage, his predecessor having paid with his life for daring to stand up to Mstislav. The latter had returned in triumph to Novgorod following his foray into Wierland but had been enraged to discover that Domash, who had five thousand Polotskians as reinforcements, had failed to capture Odenpah. He had made a leisurely return to Novgorod but on his arrival had set out for Pskov. Mstislav had decided to execute Domash for his failure but before he left had received an interesting missive that made him change his mind.
‘The year is old, lord,’ said Domash. ‘A winter march will be hard on the troops.’
Mstislav jabbed a finger in his face. ‘When your men start bellyaching you can tell them they have been dragged out of their wives’ beds because of the incompetence of their mayor. You will march west immediately.’
‘The Polotskians have returned to their city,’ said Domash. ‘I will have too few men.’
Mstislav gave him a sly smile. ‘Far from it. You will be pleased to know that when you arrive at Odenpah reinforcements will be awaiting you.’
Domash looked at Gleb, who shrugged his shoulders.
‘Reinforcements, lord?’
‘The leader of the Estonian tribes, Lembit, has contacted me with a proposal. In return for Novgorod leaving Wierland alone he will give me Odenpah. It seems that the Ungannians no longer accept the leadership of Lembit and have turned against them. As we speak he is mustering an army to march against them. So you see, your forces combined with his will be more than sufficient to take the fort.’
Domash was horrified. ‘I am to fight beside the Estonians?’
Mstislav approached him until their faces were but inches apart. ‘Better that than your head decorating the walls of this city, I think.’
‘That’s true,’ said Gleb glibly.
‘If it comes to that your head will be on a spike beside his, mystic,’ sneered Mstislav.
It took Domash two weeks to muster seven thousand variably armed and equipped men. The élite were Pskov’s Druzhina: five hundred fully armoured and trained horsemen, supported by three thousand men of the city militia, mostly spearmen and archers but also two hundred horsemen. The rest of his army were the Voi, who at least were wrapped in fur-lined hats and cloaks. They still wore bast footwear but Domash issued them all with boots from Pskov’s warehouses. It was bad enough that he was campaigning in winter; there was no need to arrive at Odenpah with half his army afflicted by frostbite.
Retracing his steps from the earlier campaign, he marched due west and then north along the western shore of Lake Peipus, now a great expanse of ice and snow. Mercifully most days were sunny and free of the biting wind that cracked skin and froze fingers and toes. But the army still covered only six miles a day.
*****
Lembit left Lehola when his scouts reported back to him that Kalju was fortifying his hill forts and that the crusader army that had spent the summer camped around Wenden had dispersed. This meant that it was highly unlikely that the bishop would re-assemble an army to march against him when snow was on the ground, thus leaving him free to deal with Kalju. An example needed to be made of the Ungannian chief, else the fragile alliance of tribes would disintegrate. Nigul was dead and the Russians had raided Edvin’s kingdom. If action was not taken Estonia would fall prey to foreign invaders, but Lembit believed he could play the foreigners off against each other and thus preserve the independence of his people. Well, most of them.
‘Does it feel unusual to be far from the sea?’ he asked Sigurd seated on the pony beside him.
‘It may surprise you, lord, to learn that Oeselians spend more time on dry land than they do on the water.’
‘Yes, I suppose they do,’ said Lembit thoughtfully.
On his other side Jaak sat silently on his pony as it plodded through the snow. He had brought a thousand warriors to join the two thousand Saccalians that were marching to Odenpah, Sigurd having left Rotalia with a thousand Oeselians. Lembit had at first been alarmed when Nigul had been killed fighting the crusaders but then looked upon it as a sign from Uku himself. With Rotalia prostrate and without a leader he feared that the Bishop of Riga would seize it anyway, but before he could do so Lembit offered it to Olaf. The Oeselian leader thus sailed the short distance from his island to Rotalia and took possession of the most important hill forts. Most of the Rotalians fled to seek sanctuary in Saccalia rather than fight the sea pirates. Thus did the empty land of Rotalia become Oeselian territory. And the price was the loan of a thousand warriors to march with Lembit against Kalju.
Lembit could feel the tension in the air and the frostiness between Sigurd and Jaak that made the winter air seem mild by comparison but he did not care. He needed all the allies he could get and if that meant giving Olaf Rotalia then so be it. In any case he had too few warriors to defend that kingdom on his own and none of the other chiefs were inclined to send their warriors to garrison it. He knew that a Russian-occupied Ungannia was not an attractive prospect but hoped that by fighting alongside Mstislav he would win enough favour with the Russians to be able to influence their future policy. He also knew that a Russian-occupied Ungannia would bring them into direct conflict with the crusaders and hoped the two would soon be fighting each other instead of killing Estonians. He also hoped that the Oeselians in Rotalia would also come into conflict with the bishop’s men. And with everyone fighting each other the freedom of the Estonian tribes might still be preserved.
‘I do not understand why we march to assist the Russians conquer Ungannia,’ said Jaak suddenly.
Lembit sighed. ‘For one thing because Kalju has proved an enemy rather than a friend, and for another the Russians are assisting us, not the other way round.’
‘In what way?’ said Jaak incredulously.
‘Because in return for Ungannia Mstislav will not attack Wierland, which means northern Estonia will be unmolested.’
He did not tell Jaak that he hoped the Russians and crusaders would start fighting each other once they found themselves on each other’s border. Nor did he mention that the Oeselians would soon be fighting the crusaders next spring when the bishop renewed his hostilities.
‘Kalju’s treachery has proved most us
eful, Jaak, as you will soon see.’
‘You are wrong, Lembit,’ said Jaak. ‘We should be fighting against the Russians not with them.’ He cast a disparaging glance towards Sigurd. ‘You are unwise in the choice of your allies and my view is not the only one in this.’
Rusticus riding a pony immediately behind Lembit snorted at this effrontery but Jaak was unconcerned with the opinions of Lembit’s pet brute.
Lembit continued to stare ahead, speaking calmly after a few seconds had elapsed. ‘The last time someone spoke to me like that was the last time they spoke. You are a fool, Jaak, a short-sighted fool. Do you think we can fight the Russians and crusaders at the same time? Nigul is dead and Kalju turns against us. You think we can conjure up armies in the spring when the crusaders advance north and the Russians sweep west to the north and south of Lake Peipus? What I do I do for the good of all Estonia and not for my own interests.
‘No one forced you to march with me. If you feel so strongly you are free to return to your stronghold, there to await the spring and to see if it is the crusaders or the Russians who arrive at your gates first.’
Jaak snorted in contempt but kept his tongue. Sigurd noted the animosity between the two and the thought entered his mind that Rotalia might not be the only province that his people could acquire at the expense of the Estonians.
It was a relatively short distance from Lehola to Odenpah, a southeasterly march across a snow-covered land filled with villages that were now empty. Sigurd noticed with amusement that Lembit gave orders that these settlements were not to be torched as the army moved by them. He informed the Oeselian that their occupants had fled to the sanctuary of either the forests or the local hill fort if one was nearby. The villagers had taken their food and animals with them but their huts provided warm, dry shelter for the army’s commanders and chiefs on the march. Lembit also explained that they would need them when they made the return journey after capturing Odenpah.
‘You do not mind giving up this place to the Russians?’ asked Sigurd.