The Sword Brothers

by Peter Darman

  ‘He has ordered a halt to all military aid to the Estonians so that’s them finished. The prince will seize the lands of the northern Estonian chiefs to compensate for the loss of Ungannia.’

  ‘A new power will rise in northern Estonia,’ said Gleb.

  ‘What power?’ asked Domash.

  Gleb shrugged. ‘I have seen it in a vision, a red and white banner.’

  ‘The Sword Brothers?’

  Gleb shook his head. ‘No. The army of another king.’

  Domash wracked his brains but could think of no other power that would lay claim to Estonia. Lembit had written to Mstislav requesting aid but did not know that the prince had abandoned him. He smiled when he thought of the Estonian chief being in a state of ignorance as the prince and the Catholics carved up Estonia between them.

  *****

  Lehola was heaving with men, hundreds of them. They had been arriving for days, some hauling small carts behind them loaded with sacks of supplies and spare shields, spears and axes. The chiefs’ bodyguards rode on ponies with their lords, which meant that the beasts also had to be accommodated within the great fort. But there was no room for their followers and so the area around the fort was covered with tents, campfires, and pens for ponies and carts. The chiefs and a score of warriors from their bodyguards slept in Lembit’s great hall, his wolf shields occupying the huts inside the compound itself. The women and children had been sent away to the sacred groves deep in the forests with enough food to last them a month. They were cared for and watched over by the priests of the old religion to fortify their courage.

  It was the height of summer and the days were warm and long, though in the hall the air was rancid with the smell of leather, stale sweat and ale as the chiefs gathered in a great circle round the stone hearth, which had been swept clean in preparation for the great feast that would be held that night. Lembit sat with Rusticus, the other chiefs being flanked by half a dozen of their men. Torches burned in brackets on the walls and light filtered in from the ventilation holes in the roof to illuminate proceedings. Lembit wore a plain tunic and leggings, Rusticus also casually attired. The other chiefs and their men sweated in their full war gear, though none wore their helmets. Nor did they have their weapons, the long table near the doors was stacked with swords and daggers, for these meetings were apt to get heated and when men’s tempers were aroused blood could be spilt. Wolf shields at the doors and around the walls would ensure that proceedings did not become too raucous, though Lembit believed that they would all see the benefits of his plan and go along with it. In any case they were in no danger: it was considered the height of ill manners to murder guests in one’s hall.

  Lembit looked at his allies. They were certainly a strange bunch. There was Jaak whose eyes had become even more untrusting since the losses he had suffered at Odenpah; the cheerful Edvin with his mop of curly blonde hair; and the tall and painfully thin Alva. They might have lost Nigul and Kalju had turned traitor but he had still managed to amass six thousand warriors at Lehola, the largest army Estonia had ever seen. All he had to do now was to convince them that his plan was sound.

  ‘It is a bad idea, Lembit,’ growled Alva, ‘the crusaders will cut us to pieces.’

  ‘Our men are brave enough,’ added Jaak, ‘but they cannot withstand a charge of the men of iron.’

  Lembit tried to remain calm. ‘My friends, I know as well as you the strength of the crusaders. Their machines can batter down the strongest walls.’ He gestured at the hall. ‘Even this fort, Estonia’s greatest stronghold, succumbed to their devilry. So I tell you that it will avail us nothing if we try to sit behind our walls.’

  ‘Then how can they be beaten?’ asked Edvin.

  Lembit stood. ‘As I have said, we use their own advantages against them.’

  Jaak stroked his pointed chin. ‘You really think that they will take your bait, Lembit? They are not stupid.’

  Lembit smiled. ‘Not stupid, no, but they are arrogant. They have tasted victory so many times that they have forgotten the bitter flavour of defeat. It is their arrogance that will be our chief ally in the coming battle.

  ‘You have all seen the ground. It will be impossible for the crusaders to refuse battle in such a location. The Oeselians and Russians are marching to our aid, and after the battle has been won we will join with them and march south to lay waste Livonia.’

  Edvin looked alarmed. ‘You will not wait until they arrive before meeting the crusaders?’

  Lembit took his seat. ‘This needs to be a purely Estonian victory, to prove to our people and to the Oeselians and Russians that we do not need to rely on their spears to defeat the Bishop of Riga.’

  ‘What of Kalju?’ said Jaak.

  Lembit shrugged. ‘What of him? When the bishop’s army is no more he will have no allies to hide behind. I think we can rely on Kalju crawling back to us in the near future.’

  ‘What will you do with him?’ queried Edvin.

  ‘What will you do with him, my friend?’ replied Lembit. ‘He betrayed you as much as he did me. It is for all of us to decide the fate of Kalju, and Ungannia.’

  He omitted to mention that he had promised the kingdom to the Prince of Novgorod. What they did not know would not alarm them.

  ‘You have all answered the call of your forefathers,’ said Lembit, ‘by bringing your warriors to this place but I do not command, I only ask. I ask for your trust and your company in the battle line. If you wish to return to your kingdoms I will understand. For myself, I will fight the crusaders to preserve the freedom of my people. The decision is yours.’

  None of them spoke as they shifted in their chairs and stared at the floor. At length Edvin looked at Lembit.

  ‘Wierland stands with you.’

  ‘As does Harrien,’ said the ‘elf warrior’.

  ‘My warriors will be at Wolf Rock,’ stated Jaak.

  A surge of elation and relief swept through Lembit. He had not been surprised when the other chiefs had answered his appeal to muster at Lehola. After all, it was better for them to fight in Saccalia than in their own kingdoms. But his audacious battle plan had at first been met with disbelief and ridicule. But after their arrival he had taken them to the spot where he wanted to offer battle to the crusaders and he and Rusticus had worked hard to persuade them that it offered the best chance to halt the seemingly inexorable crusader advance.

  He turned to Rusticus. ‘Issue the orders. We leave at dawn.’

  *****

  In the heat Conrad and the other brother knights from Wenden now sported kettle helmets instead of the full-face helms they were supposed to wear. They sweated enough in their mail armour; there was no need to roast their heads in the summer heat as well.

  ‘It looks deserted,’ said Henke, swatting away a fly from his nose.

  It had been thirteen days since they had left the castle and they had yet to see any Estonians. Every day patrols were sent ahead of the army as it lumbered its way through the Estonian countryside, being assailed by hordes of midges as it threaded its way between rivers and lakes and through vast forests. Rudolf and Henke had decided to attach themselves to Conrad and his companions, having got bored of being in the saddle for hours being nursemaid to wagons, mules and foot soldiers. Either that or be in the company of Volquin and the crusader lords listening to their boring conversations.

  ‘Why don’t you ride up to the gates,’ said Conrad. ‘I’m sure any archers will make themselves known.’

  ‘I hope you were not suggesting that I get myself killed, brother,’ said Henke.

  ‘The thought never entered my mind, brother,’ replied Conrad.

  ‘That’s enough,’ ordered Rudolf. ‘We will all ride up to the gates. Just keep your eyes peeled and your shields high.’

  They had ridden north and arrived at Lehola to find it seemingly deserted. As ever the surrounding villages had been abandoned and the fort’s towers and battlements appeared empty. The gates were closed, though a closer inspection re
vealed them to be slightly ajar. As they neared them they halted their horses and looked up at the towers and tops of the walls, expecting to see them filled with warriors. But nothing happened.

  Rameke sniffed at the still air. ‘The fort is empty. There is no smell of dung or campfires.’

  ‘Conrad, open one of the gates,’ said Rudolf. ‘Henke, you shift the other one.’

  Conrad jumped down from his horse and applied his shoulder to the heavy oak gate, pushing it inwards with difficulty. The aged iron hinges creaked as the gates were opened and the Sword Brothers entered Lehola.

  ‘You were right, Rameke,’ said Rudolf as Conrad and Henke mounted their horses and followed the others into the fort. They walked their horses past abandoned forges, huts, stables and storerooms until they reached the inner compound, the gates to which were wide open. Inside it was a similar story: empty stables and huts.

  They dismounted and tethered their horses before entering the great hall of Lembit himself, the images of wolves carved on the oak beams over the entrance. Inside it was dark and airless and without thinking they all drew their swords as they entered the feasting room. There was a sudden sound in one of the corners and they instinctively raised their swords and held their shields in front of them, only to see a scrawny rat scurrying across the floor.

  ‘Well, no one can say that Lehola was not defended,’ said Henke.

  That night the army camped two miles from the fort and there was still no sign of the Estonians.

  Grand Master Volquin had persuaded Caupo to garrison Fellin with a hundred of his warriors, adding ten of the order’s crossbowmen for missile support. With the fall of Lehola he was forced to deplete the army further, asking Caupo for an additional hundred of his men, to which he added a further ten of the order’s crossbowmen. He sat with the king and the lords in his tent a hundred paces from Lehola’s gates. He did not wish to sleep inside the fort until it had been again cleansed with holy water, fearing the malign influence of hundreds of years of paganism. He did, however, assign a number of the order’s soldiers to keep watch in the forts’ towers.

  The grand master sat round a small table in the company of Sir Richard, Count Albert, Master Thaddeus, Caupo and Sir Helmold. The flaps of the tent were open in a futile effort to entice fresh air to enter.

  ‘Having expected to have to fight for Fellin and Lehola,’ said Volquin, ‘we now find ourselves in the rather unusual position of having taken both places without a single sword having been drawn. The question now is: what course do we follow hereafter?’

  ‘Logic would suggest garrisoning both places strongly before retiring back to Livonia,’ suggested Thaddeus.

  ‘Impossible,’ said the count. ‘I came to Livonia to wage war against the pagan. If I had wanted to spend the summer wandering around the countryside then I would have stayed in Germany.’

  ‘I agree with the count,’ added Sir Richard. ‘If we let Lembit go then he will be free to torment us for another year.’

  ‘To say nothing of the other Estonian chiefs,’ said Sir Helmold. ‘They will be emboldened if we retreat back to Livonia.’

  ‘Well, then, my lords,’ remarked Thaddeus, ‘you have the unenviable prospect of trying to find Lembit in this green wilderness. But you need to find him quickly before the weather changes and the autumn rain turns the land to a sea of mud.’

  Though they did not know where Lembit was and could not agree on where to march to next, they were of the same mind when it came to Thaddeus’ siege engines. They would be stored inside Lehola until after Lembit had been engaged. In this way, it was hoped, the army would be able to cover more miles a day in their quest to track down the Estonian leader.

  Conrad rubbed his eyes and peered north into the gradually lifting gloom. He had been on watch for an hour in one of the towers on the fort’s northern wall.

  ‘See anything?’ asked Hans.

  ‘Nothing.’

  Conrad sat down on the stool as his friend leaned on the top of the log and stared north and west. Not that he could see anything aside from the brooding black shape of the forest that surrounded Lehola. He pulled his cloak round him for it was cold and clammy before the sun warmed the earth.

  ‘Looks like we will marching further north, Conrad.’

  ‘Seems strange that Lembit has abandoned his homeland and his stronghold,’ mused Conrad. ‘It is like us abandoning Wenden.’

  ‘Who knows how pagans think,’ declared Hans.

  ‘The same as us, my friend.’

  Hans turned to face him as the first shards of sunlight pierced the eastern horizon.

  ‘Really?’

  Conrad nodded. ‘Really. Pagan or Christian, all a man really wants is a warm bed, food in his belly and…’

  He was going to say a family but he fell silent instead. He turned the ring on his finger and suddenly thoughts of Daina flooded his mind.

  ‘And what?’ queried Hans.

  ‘Doesn’t matter. If we are to march further north we will need more supplies. Master Thaddeus has said that there are only fifteen days’ of food and fodder left. Hans?’

  His friend had his back to him, staring to the north as it got lighter and the eastern sky was filled with red and yellow hues.

  ‘We will not need any more supplies, Conrad.’

  Conrad, perplexed, stood up and went to his friend’s side. Ahead, around half a mile from the fort’s northern ramparts, in a thin meadow through which a dirt track ran, sat hundreds of warriors on ponies.

  Lembit had shown his hand at last.

  The alarm was sounded and the camp sprang into life, knights barking orders at their squires to fetch their warhorses as they desperately put on their armour, spurs and buckled their sword belts. As the Livs in the fort kept watch on the still-stationary Estonians a trumpet called the brother knights to the chapel tent where Otto said prayers while everyone knelt and bowed their heads. There was not enough room in the tent and so priests from the other garrisons of the order went among the sergeants and brother knights to bless them and their weapons.

  Conrad held up his sword for Otto to bless, the solemn shaven-headed priest clutching the blade and looking up to the heavens.

  ‘Oh Lord, thou knowest how busy this knight will be this day. If perchance in the cauldron of holy combat he forgets You, I beseech You do not forget him.’

  Afterwards, as novices scurried about to fetch the brother knights’ warhorses, Conrad, Hans, Anton and Johann gathered in a circle. Conrad held out an arm. The others placed their hands on top to form a wheel.

  ‘God with us,’ said Conrad, ‘kill Lembit.’

  ‘God with us, kill Lembit,’ they repeated before embracing and joining the others to collect their horses.

  Like the knights of the lords, each brother knight rode a warhorse in battle, riding a palfrey for everyday duties, the difference being each knight owned his own horse whereas the horses of the Sword Brothers were owned by the order.

  Before the army moved out of camp everyone ate a hearty breakfast. The cooking pots had already been bubbling when the enemy had been spotted, and as the Estonians had shown little inclination to move nearer or further from the fort Volquin issued orders that men and horses were to be fed. It might be a long day. He also gave orders that the novices, civilian drivers, carpenters, pages and anyone else incapable of using a weapon were to remain at Lehola, inside the fort. This did not include the priests, who would accompany the fighting men of the army when they marched. But it did include Master Thaddeus and his engineers, who after breakfast directed the wagons loaded with their siege machines to be driven into the stronghold. The tents were left where they stood.

  It was two hours past dawn when Grand Master Volquin led the crusader army out to face the Estonians, the latter retreating immediately upon sighting the hundreds of mail-clad horsemen approaching. They fell back slowly into the gently rolling hills north of Lehola, now bathed in bright morning sunshine. The cool of the evening had disappeared and t
he temperature began to rise, though mercifully there was a gentle westerly breeze that ruffled the Christian pennants and standards. And as the army crawled forward the Estonians slowly retreated.

  Count Albert sent fifty of his knights forward to try to goad the enemy into action, but the Estonians merely increased their rate of retreat, though always remaining visible to the crusaders. After two hours the Estonians suddenly melted into the trees. Volquin considered ordering a halt but then the air was filled with the sound of shouts and cheers, which appeared to be coming from the north. The order was given to close up and keep watch on the flanks as the march was resumed and the army entered an area of flatland bordered by a thick forest on the left and a brooding black lake on the right. The ground in between contained a few scattered pines but was flat and covered in lush grass – ideal terrain for horsemen. And ahead, around five hundred paces away, filling the horizon, was a great wall of warriors.

  They had found the army of Lembit.

  Frantic trumpet calls and drum rolls called forth the divisions of the Christian army as it moved from column into line to face the Estonians. As had been agreed at the start of the campaign, in any battles against Lembit it would comprise five separate ‘battles’ of varying sizes. On the right wing – the place of honour – stood Count Albert and his men. The count took up position in the centre of the front rank made up of two hundred knights and their squires. The same number of lesser knights was drawn up immediately behind, with the count’s foot soldiers arrayed behind them.

  In the centre of the Christian line stood three more ‘battles’. On the right centre were Sir Helmold and his one hundred knights, one hundred squires and two hundred lesser knights. To the left of Sir Helmold’s men stood the smaller number of Sir Richard’s command – thirty knights, the same number of squires, fifty less knights and forty crossbowmen. On the left centre were arrayed the Sword Brothers, a ‘battle’ of white caparisons, surcoats, mail armour and silver helmets. And behind them stood the spearmen and crossbowmen of the order.