The Sword Brothers

by Peter Darman

  And on the battlements above the fort’s gates and from the towers on either side over a hundred crossbowmen stood up and began shooting at the Russians below.

  The hail of bolts stopped the militiamen in their tracks, two hundred quarrels in the space of half a minute felling at least a hundred men in the front ranks. The next four volleys killed or wounded a further three hundred men in sixty seconds, throwing the Pskovians into chaos. They had expected an easy victory against the hairy, stinking pagans but instead were being shot to pieces by crusader crossbowmen. Their ranks faltered, halted and then disintegrated as death rained down upon them.

  The Ungannians gave a mighty cheer and wanted to charge after them but Kalju kept them under iron control and ordered them back into the fort. He raised his sword to Master Thaddeus standing on the battlements above, the man who had organised the crossbowmen.

  The gates were closed, the Ungannians cheered and whooped in triumph as the womenfolk led by Eha came from the inner stronghold to tend to the wounded, of which there were a great many.

  The crossbowmen filed back to their positions as Conrad slid from his horse and took off his helmet. He immediately looked for his friends. He saw Hans and Anton, then Johann whose shield was hanging in two pieces from his arm. They embraced each other and grinned sheepishly at having survived another battle unscathed. Conrad saw leather face.

  ‘Excellent shooting.’

  ‘Don’t look too pleased with yourselves,’ he retorted, ‘that little bit of sport used up the last of our ammunition.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Hans, ‘Master Thaddeus stockpiled bolts in the inner stronghold.’

  Leather face smiled. ‘I know, we just used them all up.’

  The four knights looked at each other and then at the wounded being helped from their horses. Other men took off their helmets and slid from their saddles, barely able to stand so weakened were they. The horses of the garrison and relief force were also exhausted. With no crossbow bolts, arrows or ammunition for the mangonels the enemy was now free to approach the walls unmolested.

  Grand Master Volquin, who was wintering at Kremon when word reached the castle from Berthold that Odenpah was besieged, had led a scratch contingent of all the brother knights, sergeants, crusaders and anyone else he could collect. Caupo had given him fifty of his best warriors, most of whom had been killed outside Odenpah fighting the Russian horsemen. He had also brought all the novices from Wenden, Segewold and Kremon, half of whom had also fallen during the fighting. In addition, Bishop Theodoric had accompanied him, stating that Estonia was his domain and he should support those fighting to preserve it from the heathens. Less than two hundred men had made it into the fort and half of those were wounded. There had been no time to muster soldiers from those garrisons along the Dvina or at Riga and so Volquin had gambled that the appearance of a relief force, albeit a weak one, would be enough to break the siege. It was a gamble he lost.

  Rudolf had embraced Master Berthold after the fort’s gates had been closed and the master had collapsed into his arms, his stomach ripped open by a Russian lance. He was taken to Kalju’s hall but lapsed into unconsciousness soon after and died later that night. For the men of Wenden it was a devastating blow. Berthold had been appointed castellan when the hill fort had fallen to the Sword Brothers eight years before. Conrad had been right. God had exacted a price for Wenden’s taking of slaves, claiming the life of the man who had authorised it. As the news spread of his death among those sheltering behind Odenpah’s walls a pall of gloom hung over the fort.

  Otto said prayers over the body of Berthold as the Sword Brother grand master and masters, Theodoric, Master Thaddeus, Sir Richard, Kalju and his chiefs gathered in a cramped stone hut near his hall. The latter was filled not only with the elderly, women and children but also the wounded of the relief force, Eha and other women tending their wounds as Otto went among them to administer absolution. Thaddeus had searched out Conrad and once again asked him to be his translator.

  There was a bench and a single bed in the hut, two candles providing a dim light to illuminate weary, filthy faces. Kalju ordered more stools to be brought so everyone could be seated.

  ‘Apologies for the cramped conditions, bishop,’ said Volquin.

  ‘Our lord was born in a stable, grand master,’ replied Theodoric, ‘so what was suitable for Him is more than adequate for me.’

  ‘We might be living in something far worse, or not living at all, if our predicament is not sorted,’ complained Thaddeus, squashing a mite in his beard.

  Theodoric frowned at the old man.

  ‘This is Master Thaddeus, lord bishop,’ said Rudolf hurriedly, ‘Wenden’s chief engineer and the man who has thus far masterminded the defence of Odenpah.’

  Kalju looked at Rudolf and pointed at the stern-looking figure in the surcoat that bore the insignia of Riga.

  ‘This man is your commander?’

  Rudolf explained that he was a holy man, a bishop, and equivalent in rank to the Bishop of Riga himself.

  ‘And yet he brings few warriors with him,’ remarked the chief.

  ‘Well, Master Thaddeus,’ said Theodoric. ‘How would you extract us from the predicament we find ourselves in?’

  ‘A larger relief force would have helped,’ replied Thaddeus without a hint of irony. Kalju laughed and slapped him on the back.

  ‘However,’ continued the engineer, ‘we must work with what we have, which is not much. That said, the enemy has lost hundreds of dead and probably many more wounded during their abortive attacks and they too must be in a weakened state.’

  ‘That does not help us,’ remarked Volquin glumly.

  ‘It might,’ said Thaddeus. ‘They do not know that we have no ammunition left and that our food supplies are dangerously low.’

  ‘So?’ said Bertram.

  ‘So, Master Bertram,’ answered Thaddeus, ‘we request a parley and bargain with the enemy.’

  ‘Out of the question,’ said Kalju. ‘I will not bend my knee to the invaders of my kingdom.’

  Thaddeus waved a hand at Conrad. ‘Translate for me, young Conrad.

  ‘My lord, what would you say if I told you that we can persuade the enemy to leave your kingdom?’

  ‘I would say that you are a miracle worker, Master Thaddeus,’ replied Kalju, ‘and if you made such a thing happen I would give you a young virgin girl to warm your bed, two if you so desired.’

  Theodoric looked most uncomfortable when Conrad translated what Kalju had spoken, while Thaddeus smiled politely and Rudolf laughed.

  ‘It is simple, lord,’ said Thaddeus, slightly distracted by the prospect of a young woman to fill his lonely bed, ‘give the enemy something he wants.’

  ‘He wants Odenpah,’ said Volquin in irritation.

  ‘Then offer him something more,’ replied Thaddeus.

  Mathias scratched his lice-filled beard. ‘What?’

  Thaddeus shook his head. ‘My lords, I am just an engineer not a diplomat. There must be something you can offer to tempt the enemy, especially one that has been mightily mauled before the walls of this fort.’

  Theodoric clasped his hands together, making everyone jump. He offered his hand to Thaddeus.

  ‘The Lord himself must have decided to bring you here, Master Thaddeus, for truly your words are full of wisdom. You are right, we will offer something that the enemy desires.’

  Rudolf translated the bishop’s words to Kalju, who remained sceptical.

  ‘I will not yield this fort or any of my kingdom,’ he growled.

  The bishop smiled at him. ‘I swear by Almighty God, lord, that Ungannia will remain free and undiminished.’

  ‘A parley it is, then,’ said Volquin.

  They all stood and filed out of the hut. Thaddeus got Conrad to ask Kalju if he had been serious about the offer of the virgins.

  The chief smiled. ‘You can select them yourself, my friend.’

  Kalju looked at Conrad. ‘What about him?’
>
  Conrad, mortified, translated the chief’s words.

  ‘Oh, no, lord. He has taken a vow of chastity. He is not allowed carnal relations with women, or men for that matter,’ replied Thaddeus.

  Kalju looked horrified. ‘Never?’

  Thaddeus nodded. ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘You are happy with this?’ Kalju asked Conrad.

  ‘Yes, lord.’

  ‘Than you are a better man than I am.’

  *****

  ‘Another two hundred have deserted.’

  Domash looked to see Yaroslav standing in his tent’s entrance. Mstislav had sent his son-in-law to keep an eye on the mayor of Pskov and at first he had resented his presence. But Yaroslav had shown himself an excellent officer and, more importantly, had not questioned his orders. For the last five days increasing numbers of the Voi had absconded during the night, deciding that only a slow death in the snow or a quick death at the hands of the Sword Brothers awaited them at Odenpah.

  Domash waved Yaroslav in and pointed to a chair opposite.

  ‘Do you wish me to organise parties of horsemen to hunt them down?’

  Domash closed his eyes and sighed. ‘Send out a small mounted party. We must maintain the appearance of discipline.’

  ‘The army is demoralised,’ said Gleb. ‘I have been among the Voi and they say that the appearance of the Sword Brothers was an ill-omen that you ignored.’

  ‘Do they,’ snapped Domash. ‘And what would you suggest, Gleb? Crawl back to Pskov with our tails between our legs?’

  Yaroslav looked at Gleb but said nothing. He had found the blue-shirted mystic amusing and irritating in equal measure, but he knew the power and influence he held over the simple-minded villagers who made up the bulk of the Voi. And even among the militia of Pskov he held great sway.

  ‘Meet with the leaders of the crusaders,’ said Gleb, ‘tell them that you will retreat if the Sword Brothers do the same. Our strength diminishes by the day. What if the crusaders send another relief force, what then?’

  ‘He speaks sense, lord,’ said Yaroslav.

  Domash smiled wanly. ‘The prince would take a dim view of losing so many men for nothing.’

  ‘He would take a dimmer view of knowing that the Sword Brothers have taken control of Ungannia,’ replied Yaroslav, ‘for it would mean that the crusaders are on his border.’

  They heard a horse coming to a halt outside the tent, then voices and the tent flap opened and a guard entered. He stood in front of Domash and saluted.

  ‘A horseman from Odenpah, highness, rode from the fort and spoke with our guards under a flag of truce. The garrison commanders wish to speak with you. The horseman waits at our siege lines for your response.’

  ‘It would appear that the crusaders wish to bring hostilities to an end too,’ observed Gleb. ‘Now the question is, which side is the most eager to be away from this dreadful place?’

  ‘Will you agree to talk with them, lord?’ asked Yaroslav.

  ‘I have little option,’ replied Domash. He looked at the guard. ‘Tell the messenger from the fort that I will meet his commanders tomorrow, at noon, halfway between our lines and their gates.’

  The guard saluted and exited the tent.

  Domash groaned and rose to his feet. ‘Now I shall inform our Estonian allies of my decision, and no doubt feel their wrath for doing so.’

  ‘Do you wish me to come with you, lord?’ offered Yaroslav.

  ‘No need. Organise that hunt for the deserters. We will hang a few as an example.’

  ‘It would be better to hang a few Estonians,’ remarked Gleb. ‘I think you will find that once friend Lembit learns of your plans to negotiate with the enemy he will skulk back to his homeland, like a child who does not want to play any longer.’

  ‘War breeds strange allies,’ observed Yaroslav.

  ‘And even stranger enemies,’ said Gleb.

  Gleb was right about Lembit, though far from flying into a rage the Estonian leader merely shrugged and told Domash that he must do what he had to. It was of no consequence to him, though he would take no part in the negotiations with the Christians, stating that they would probably try to kidnap him and take him back to Riga. The narrow face of Jaak, who sat with Lembit in his tent, had become more gaunt and his eyes were full of resentment when he could bring himself to look at the Russian leader. No wonder he was bitter: half his men were dead in the snow in front of Odenpah.

  Domash asked that the Estonians array their men before the western ramparts of the fort the next day to impress the garrison, while his Russians would be drawn up to the east and south of the fort. He felt sure that the crusaders wished to surrender and seek passage from the fort. Lembit scoffed at such a notion and told Domash that he would be taking what was left of his men back to Saccalia. Jaak muttered that he would also be returning to his homeland. Domash pleaded with them to stay but to no avail. He therefore asked them to depart that night so that the garrison would not notice their absence. He rode back to camp hoping that he would never again have to fight by the side of Estonians.

  *****

  It snowed that night as hundreds of Estonian warriors dismantled their tents and trudged disconsolately west towards Saccalia and Jerwen. Three thousand had marched full of confidence to Odenpah; less then fifteen hundred made the return journey. When the dawn came it had stopped snowing and a bitter easterly breeze blew away the clouds to bathe the white land in brilliant sunshine. The heaps of dead around the fort were covered in snow and hidden from view as the gates were opened and the delegation rode out to meet with the enemy.

  Since dawn riders had been sent to and from the fort to work out the details of the size and composition of both delegations to the parley. Eventually it was agreed that each side would comprise ten individuals. From the fort rode Bishop Theodoric, resplendent in mail armour and red surcoat emblazoned with golden keys, Grand Master Volquin, Kalju in mail armour, helmet and green cloak, Sir Richard, two brother knights of the Sword Brothers and three of Kalju’s most senior officers. The last of the party was Conrad, who attended as translator. At the last moment the bishop and grand master realised that they had no knowledge of the Russian tongue. They sent a courier to the Russian lines to ascertain whether Domash or one of his officers spoke Estonian, to which the reply was yes. Rudolf offered to be the translator but Volquin reminded him that he was now master of Wenden and as such it was unbecoming for one of the order’s castellans to serve as a translator. So it was that Conrad was selected to be the official translator in the first negotiations between the Sword Brothers and the Principality of Novgorod.

  As the intention was to talk rather than fight neither party carried lances as a sign of goodwill. Conrad rode beside the bishop in his armour and helm, sword at his hip and axe dangling from his saddle, just in case. The Russians then appeared from behind the line of wagons that had been placed around the fort following the arrival of the relief force. They looked magnificent in their gleaming lamellar armour, red cloaks and gilded helmets. Three figures rode at the head of the group, two wearing the uniforms of rich Russian boyars, the third in boots, brown leggings, fur-lined jacket and cap and ragged cloak. He was clearly neither a soldier nor a noble.

  The Russians halted some twenty paces from the bishop, who wore his mitre on his head and a gold cross around his neck. He carried no weapons but sat tall in the saddle and his rich attire marked him out as a figure of authority. The Russian in the centre of the group took off his helmet. He had a handsome face, though it was etched with worry and fatigue.

  ‘I am Domash Tverdislavich, mayor of Pskov and commander of the army before Odenpah,’ he said in Estonian.

  ‘Take off your helmet, Conrad,’ said the bishop, ‘so that we may hear your words.’

  Conrad did so and announced the Russian’s name and position to his party.

  ‘I am Theodoric, Bishop of Estonia,’ he held out a hand to the others beside him.

  ‘This is Grand Master Volqui
n, commander of the Sword Brothers, Sir Richard Bruffingham, an English knight who leads the crusaders that have come to Odenpah, and Chief Kalju, Lord of all Ungannia, the land you currently trespass upon.’

  That pleased Kalju because he smiled triumphantly at Domash.

  ‘These are my senior officers,’ said the governor of Pskov curtly. ‘You requested this meeting, bishop, so I await your words.’

  The bishop smiled politely. ‘Not my words, governor, but the words of the prince of this land.’

  He smiled again, this time at Kalju.

  ‘It is quite simple,’ said the chief, ‘I demand that you leave my kingdom immediately.’

  Domash tried hard not to laugh in the chief’s face but before he could answer the bishop spoke.

  ‘To do so would profit Novgorod enormously.’

  Domash was suspicious of this priest who was head of a fictitious bishopric. That said, his army was severely depleted and his allies had deserted him. He could not afford to mount another assault against the fort for fear it would result in the destruction of his army. But if he continued with the siege he risked further desertions as his men rotted in the snow.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Ungannia is an ally of Livonia,’ replied the bishop. ‘That being the case, Novgorod’s goods can, with Lord Kalju’s permission, be transported through his kingdom and then by boat down the Gauja, a river now controlled by the Sword Brothers.’

  ‘The goods of Novgorod travel along the Dvina,’ said Domash dismissively.

  The bishop turned to Conrad. ‘Make sure you translate the next bit accurately. It is very important.’

  ‘Yes, lord bishop.’

  ‘The Dvina is also controlled by the Sword Brothers,’ continued the bishop. ‘If you do not withdraw from Ungannia the Sword Brothers will deny the use of both rivers to the merchants of Novgorod. It is your choice, mayor. Take advantage of the hand of friendship offered to you by the Sword Brothers or see the trade of Novgorod, and Pskov, suffer.’

  ‘The coffers of Riga would also suffer,’ retorted Domash.

  The bishop brought his hands together. ‘Riga is God’s town, mayor, established in His name. It is a holy place not a pit of money lenders.’