Castellan

by Peter Darman

  ‘You dislike the Danes?’

  ‘They were responsible for the death of our friend,’ said Conrad, who turned the axe in his hand.

  ‘He was killed at the Pala,’ said Hans.

  ‘And others among the men of iron think like you?’ asked Koit.

  Conrad nodded.

  ‘Then why do you go to save them?’

  Conrad, Hans and Anton looked at him with blank expressions.

  The light breeze and calm waters made for a pleasant trip, the sun turning the early morning sea shiny grey. The boats, which were steered by a single hand-held oar at the rear, gradually formed a long line of vessels as they headed northwest towards Oesel.

  ‘We are heading for the strait between Muhu and Oesel,’ Koit informed the brother knights, ‘an island adjacent to Oesel. We will sail up the strait between the two islands before landing near where the Danes are besieged. Because of the favourable wind and tides there will be no need to land on Muhu itself.’

  He pointed ahead. ‘The navigator and scouts are in the lead vessel with Master Rudolf, the leader of the men of iron.’

  ‘He is deputy commander of our order,’ said Conrad. ‘The leader of the Sword Brothers is at Riga.’

  ‘Why is he not here?’ asked Koit.

  ‘There is sickness in Riga,’ Hans informed him. ‘No one may leave the city.’

  ‘The Danes blockade Riga just as the Oeselians strangle Reval,’ said Anton. ‘Another reason to hope that they have all perished on Oesel.’

  Conrad turned the axe once more. Hopefully Count Henry would also be among those besieged. Then he would have another opportunity to exact revenge on the German lord for the death of Johann.

  After the initial concern about Oeselian longships the gently rocking of the boat, the pleasant breeze and the warming sun had a calming effect and soon the brother knights were lying on deck relaxing. Their shields, helmets, swords, maces, axe and crossbows were stacked against the gunwale as the crew went about their business.

  ‘Do you both realise that this is the first time we have been at sea since we arrived in Livonia,’ said Hans. ‘It seems like yesterday.’

  ‘You were a lot thinner then,’ Anton reminded him. ‘I thought you would not survive the journey.’

  ‘Perhaps we won’t survive this journey,’ remarked Hans glumly.

  But after an hour the boats reached the strait between Oesel and Muhu, fish eagles swooping overhead as the vessels headed into the passage of water that was around two miles in width. The boats hugged the shoreline of Oesel as they sailed north. The brother knights stirred themselves as the crew prepared a sparse meal of sausage, bread, salted fish and water. Koit sat with the three, Hillar and Kaja as they ate their meal.

  ‘Another hour, perhaps longer,’ said Koit, ‘and then you will be feasting with the Oeselians.’

  ‘We’ve beaten them before,’ said Conrad.

  ‘Hiller informed me that you fought a single combat with Prince Sigurd,’ said Koit, ‘eldest son of Olaf.’

  Conrad stuffed a piece of salted herring into his mouth and nodded.

  ‘And defeated him,’ said Kaja with pride.

  ‘And let him live,’ stated Koit.

  Conrad nodded again.

  ‘Susi is merciful,’ added Kaja.

  ‘You may live to regret that decision, son of the forest wolf,’ remarked Koit.

  ‘How many can we get on this boat?’ asked Conrad, changing the subject.

  Like the others it was some forty-five feet in length and had a width of just over eleven feet. It seemed large and accommodating but there were only six of them plus five crewmen.

  ‘Twenty passengers, perhaps one or two more,’ answered Koit. ‘But no horses or ponies.’

  ‘Valdemar will have to leave his warhorses behind,’ said Conrad, prompting him and his two friends to burst out laughing. Koit looked at Hillar in confusion. They did not know that a warhorse was a symbol of a knight’s status and to abandon it was both shameful and expensive. Koit thought their behaviour most strange.

  It was just before midday when crews in the boats in front used red flags to signal that they had reached their destination. The message was relayed to the boats behind as Conrad and his colleagues strapped on their swords, Anton and Hans tucking their maces into their belts and Conrad likewise his axe. Then they loaded their crossbows and knelt by the gunwale at the prow of the boat, Kaja, now helmeted, kneeling beside them.

  The boat swung sharply to port to head towards a long shingle beach and a seemingly unending forest of pine beyond. Conrad scanned the beach and saw no sign of enemy activity.

  ‘That forest could be full of enemy warriors,’ hissed Anton, reading Conrad’s mind.

  They were perhaps two hundred paces from the beach, the other boats now either side of their own in a long line. In each one crossbowmen knelt with loaded weapons ready to shoot at any Oeselians that showed their faces. Conrad rested his crossbow against the gunwale and held out his arm, palm down. Hans and Anton placed their own hands on top of his as Kaja scrambled to form a fourth spoke of the wheel.

  ‘As dust to the wind,’ said Conrad.

  ‘As dust to the wind,’ the others answered.

  They returned to their positions, the brother knights putting on their helms as they rested their fingers against crossbow triggers and waited. There was absolute silence – no wind, no cries of seagulls, nothing – as it took what seemed like an eternity for the boats to reach the shore. Hillar was crouched low against the gunwale, Koit beside him. Then the bottom of the hull scraped the pebbles under the water and a single voice pierced the air.

  ‘God with us!’

  Seconds later cheers and shouts answered the rally as men jumped into the water and scrambled ashore. It was a mad rush of warriors, brother knights, sergeants and mercenaries, the latter initially standing to shoot their crossbows over the heads of the invaders if required. Conrad left his crossbow on board, leapt over the gunwale and splashed into the water, losing his footing on loose pebbles and falling head first into the sea. Hans hauled him to his feet and dragged him forward, Conrad regaining his footing as he stepped on to the beach and raced on, sword in hand and shield held before him as a defence against enemy missiles. All along the shingle men raced to the treeline – twenty paces from the water – and rushed into the forest. And then stopped as they realised that there was no enemy among the trees.

  Conrad retrieved his crossbow and quickly gathered his warlords around him as Rudolf and Sir Richard organised their respective contingents. As they did so the boat crews pushed their vessels back into the water where they would drop anchor and wait for the army to return. If it returned.

  There were no horn calls or trumpet blasts. Everyone knew the plan: land on the beach two miles from the bay where the Danes had landed and march across land to the Danish camp. Speed was of the essence as a thousand men tramping through a forest, many of them dressed in white surcoats and carrying white shields, would make a lot of noise and would be impossible to disguise.

  Priests walked up and down the line, voicing encouragement as commanders barked orders at their men to get into position. As agreed at the council of war the day before the Army of the Wolf formed the centre: Harrien, Rotalians and Tonis’ wolf shields standing shoulder to shoulder and reinforced by the order’s mercenary crossbowmen. On the right, the place of honour, stood the brother knights of Wenden, Segewold and Kremon, together with fifty-five sergeants equipped with crossbows and a hundred and fifty Jerwen warriors led by Andres. To the left of Conrad’s warriors were Sir Richard and his knights, Saccalian levies and another fifty-five sergeants shouldering crossbows.

  Master Rudolf led his wing forward and the rest of the army followed. Conrad, his crossbow armed, turned to Kaja holding the banner.

  ‘Whatever happens, stay close.’

  Leatherface, on the right of Hans, grinned mischievously.

  ‘Don’t you worry, Brother Conrad, if you are killed I
’ll take good care of her.’

  Kaja sneered at the lecherous mercenary. ‘I can take care of myself.’

  At first the going was hard as they moved through the trees, men tripping on bushes and roots and snapping dead branches underfoot. The sounds were accompanied by low grunts and curses and Conrad had no doubt that the enemy would be alerted to their presence long before they came into view. But after half a mile or so of slow progress the pines gave way to a forest of ancient oaks, the trees widely spaced with long grass between them. This made visibility as well as movement easier and the pace picked up. Beautiful yellow and purple orchids were crushed underfoot as the army tramped towards the enemy.

  There was a palpable sense of tension in the air that increased with every step taken. Far from the pace increasing it actually slackened as men took care where they placed their feet and peered ahead into the trees to discern any movement. A deer broke cover and darted away, fraying everyone’s nerves further. But the mercenaries and sergeants, old hands who had spent years campaigning in Livonia, did not shoot any quarrels.

  The advance continued. The crossbowmen, including Conrad and his two friends, were in the second rank, ready to shoot at the enemy when they appeared. The Oeselians fought in a similar fashion to the Livs and Estonians: a shield wall of four to six ranks that locked its horns with the enemy shield wall until one broke. But Master Rudolf had no time for a drawn-out mêlée He wanted to disperse the enemy with missiles, break through to the Danes and then withdraw to the boats.

  ‘Hear that?’ whispered Leatherface.

  ‘Woodpeckers?’ said Hans.

  Leatherface chuckled and winked at Kaja.

  ‘Wood being chopped more like. We are close to the enemy.’

  He had been nonchalantly shouldering his crossbow but now he pulled a quarrel from one of the quivers dangling from the shoulder straps and placed it in the groove of the stock, against the drawn-back bowstring.

  ‘Look sharp,’ he hissed to his colleagues to his left.

  They walked on for another couple of minutes, the sound of chopping getting louder as the widely spaced oaks began to give way to a forest of spruce. But not before the Oeselian party was spotted. There were around a score of them, most engaged in chopping wood for either shelter or firewood. They had posted no guards because they were on their own island and the Danes were closely besieged. So they initially did not spot the blocks of warriors approaching them.

  Leatherface loosed the first quarrel, the sharp crack of his crossbow being shot making some of the Oeselians turn and gaze in the direction from where the sound came from. There was a succession of snaps as the other mercenaries released their triggers, followed by yelps and screams as the missiles hit their targets. The relief force was around two hundred paces from the Oeselians, the survivors turning tail and running into the trees as another volley of bolts was directed at them. Knowing that the survivors would alert the besiegers, Rudolf and the other brother knights on the right increased their pace to pursue them. They entered the tall spruce; the rest of the army swarming into the forest as ahead the shouts of the fleeing Oeselians filled the trees.

  ‘I’m getting too old for this,’ complained Leatherface as he broke into a trot to keep up with those around him.

  Conrad, who had shoved his helmet on top of his head during the advance, again looked behind at Kaja.

  ‘Stay close,’ he ordered before pulling his helm down. Hans and Anton did likewise as they entered the spruce trees and forged ahead.

  He heard the shrill blast of horns. The enemy was alerted.

  They pushed on, a sense of excitement laced with trepidation infusing them. Conrad could hear shouting ahead from a multitude of voices. The enemy would be waiting for them. He said a silent prayer that his courage would not fail as the spruce trees suddenly ended and the relief force entered a large meadow. Actually that was incorrect. It entered a wide and deep area of tree stumps. He raised his crossbow and the signallers nearby blew their horns to order a halt. He commanded five hundred men of the centre – half the army – and he had no intention of letting it get fragmented amidst a forest of stumps.

  On the right Rudolf also halted his men, Sir Richard on the left initially leading his knights forward to get to grips with the enemy shield wall that was rapidly forming just beyond where the stumps ended. But his trumpeters blew their instruments and he and his men shuffled back to align themselves with the Army of the Wolf.

  Leatherface slapped Conrad on the back. ‘Now you’ll see why Master Rudolf pays us so well.’

  Conrad shoved his helmet up. ‘I thought you haven’t been paid in months.’

  Leatherface hooked the bowstring over the double-pronged metal claw attached to the front of his leather belt, placed a foot in the metal stirrup fitted to the fore-end of his crossbow’s stock and forced the stirrup downwards. The bowstring, attached to the claw, was drawn along the stock until it slipped over the catch of the lock. He placed a new bolt in the stock’s groove.

  ‘We sorted out that business.’

  He leered at Kaja. ‘Master Rudolf knows I am too important to let go. Don’t worry, sweet thing, I won’t let any Oeselian rape you.’

  Kaja ignored him.

  ‘Shields!’ shouted Conrad, again pulling his helmet down. There was one rank of warriors in front of him, all armed with hand axes to hack at the enemy in front when the shield walls collided. Behind him the other Estonian warriors brought their shields up to form a roof as a defence against Oeselian arrows.

  The Oeselian shield wall was thickening by the minute, warriors running to equal the extent of the relief force’s line and then outflank it as hundreds of Olaf’s men prepared to destroy the new arrivals. Men with spears and axes began hurling abuse at Rudolf’s army, banging the hafts of their weapons against their shields to produce a mighty din to both intimidate the enemy and bolster their own courage. The Oeselian shields were all round and painted with a mixture of colours: red and yellow, black and yellow and red and white. The men that held them all wore helmets with nasal guards and mail shirts. They were the best fighters in the Oeselian army and among them would be Olaf himself, though Conrad had no knowledge of what he looked like. A few Oeselians broke ranks and ran forward, big men with no fear who spread their arms to bare their torsos in an act of bravado that brought loud cheers from their comrades. One ran forward and hurled his spear at the ranks of the Army of the Wolf, the point slamming into the earth a few paces from the man in front of Conrad.

  ‘Time to shut them up,’ snarled Leatherface.

  ‘Wait for Master Rudolf’s signal,’ shouted Conrad from within his helmet.

  But the brother knight was getting concerned that the enemy shield wall was still thickening and lengthening and they were doing nothing. Soon, notwithstanding the belt of tree stumps in front, it would start inching forward to get to grips with them. Beyond the shield wall he caught glimpses of tents and a long mound of what appeared to be a rampart, on top of which was segments of a low wall. Then he heard a blast of horns and what he had feared was happening: the Oeselians were moving forward.

  He did not know how many warriors were in the enemy’s shield wall but it overlapped the relief force’s line at each end by at least fifty yards. There were perhaps a hundred paces between the two sides when Olaf’s men began shuffling forward, his warriors shouting their war cries and promising to send the Christians to their hell. Their confidence was high because although they would have seen the banners and insignia of the Sword Brothers, the men of iron had no warhorses that made the earth tremble when they charged.

  Then Rudolf gave his signal.

  A sharp trumpet blast came from the ranks of the Sword Brothers, followed by deeper horn blasts among the Army of the Wolf and a trumpet call from Sir Richard’s ranks. And then the shooting started. Conrad aimed his crossbow, pulled the trigger and went about reloading his weapon. Master Rudolf had brought two hundred and fifty crossbowmen to Oesel, three more including
Conrad, Hans and Anton, and now they methodically went about their business. Loosing missiles from behind the front ranks they shot four hundred and eighty bolts in thirty seconds, delivering the same number in the following thirty seconds.

  They continued shooting up to four bolts a minute, the metal-tipped missiles cutting through the air to hit enemy necks and faces. The Oeselian line staggered and then stopped as the shield wall walked into a swarm of iron-tipped quarrels. The shield wall’s front rank disintegrated as bolts were aimed at just above the Oeselian shields. Men collapsed, clutched their faces in agony or fell backwards, dead, on to the men behind.

  In two minutes over nineteen hundred bolts had been shot at the enemy shield wall, in front of which was a rapidly forming mound of dead and dying men. The crossbowmen continued shooting, reaching into their quivers to extract bolts to shoot at the enemy. There was nothing rushed about their work, just a calm, steady sequence of loading, shooting and reloading. The Estonians, Sword Brothers and Sir Richard’s knights remained silent and still as the crossbowmen went about their business.

  Opposite was a noisy scene of carnage as warlords tried to establish some sort of order as their men were cut down in front of their eyes.

  ‘Raise shields,’ came the cry as someone noticed that the Christian soldiers were shooting at heads and necks.

  So the Oeselians raised their shields to hide their faces and bolts began slamming into the leather and wood. But the order’s mercenaries and sergeants were canny and simply adjusted their aim. There was a slight pause, a temporary silence and then dozens of high-pitched screams as quarrels began to slam into legs and groins suddenly exposed as the Oeselians raised their shields. If anything the crossbowmen’s task was easier as they aimed their bolts at a dense forest of unarmoured legs.

  Conrad had shot at least a dozen bolts when what was left of the Oeselian shield wall began to edge back and then dissolved as those who were uninjured could take no more and ran for their lives. For a few seconds Conrad thought that an age-old habit would take hold of his Estonians and they would break ranks and charge to pursue the enemy. But they had been at Wenden for months and in that time had spent many hours training with the brother knights, sergeants and mercenaries.