by Peter Darman
‘Hold your ground, you heathen bastards,’ shouted Leatherface, his head and neck covered in sweat. ‘I’ll kill the first man who breaks ranks.’
Conrad shoved his helmet up on his head.
‘Maintain order, wait for the command.’
It came seconds later when Master Rudolf’s trumpeters signalled the advance. The three blocks of soldiers began walking forward, skirting the tree trunks easily enough but then having to tread on the piles of dead and dying Oeselians. It was a ghastly sight, men sobbing and whimpering with crossbow bolts embedded in their jaws, cheeks and noses, or staring in horror at their shattered shins and bleeding thighs. The lucky ones had been killed instantly when a sharp-headed bolt had gone into an eye socket and then the brain. Or had pierced their windpipe. But they all ended up dead when they were trampled on and men with axes or maces put them out of their misery.
The enemy had seemingly disappeared as the army pushed on into a mass of empty tents and campfires. The pace picked up as soldiers appeared on the earth rampart ahead, the relief army moving through a line of what appeared to be small, crudely built mangonels, beside each one a pile of stones. Danish soldiers came walking and hobbling from their camp, descending the rampart to stumble into the ditch before cheering their saviours.
Conrad removed his helmet and took gulps of air as Hans and Anton slapped him on the back. He turned to ensure Kaja was still with him. She was, grinning at him from behind the thick nasal guard of her helmet. He uncorked his water bottle and took a swig, resisting the temptation to empty its contents. The Army of the Wolf now descended into loud chatter as the warriors marvelled at their easy victory.
Then Rudolf was standing in front of Conrad, helmetless with sword in hand.
‘Get your men inside the camp,’ he ordered him, ‘and come with me.’
He pointed at Kaja. ‘You too.’
Conrad delegated command of the Estonians to Hans and Anton and then hurried after Rudolf, Kaja racing to his side.
‘What does Master Rudolf want with me, Susi?’ she asked.
‘I know as much as you, Kaja.’
Chapter 3
Conrad was shocked by the sight that greeted his eyes as he and Kaja tramped after Master Rudolf in the company of Bertram, Mathias, Sir Richard and Brother Lukas, the latter carrying a large leather tube slung over his shoulder. The relief army had swept over the eastern side of the Danish camp, which appeared to be filled with wounded men hobbling around or sitting listlessly round campfires. He could see freshly dug earth covering what he presumed was a burial pit; beside it another pit was being dug. The Danish soldiers looked exhausted, their faces pale, cheeks sunken with black rings around their eyes. They just stood and stared with vacant expressions as the Sword Brothers made their way to the royal pavilion. The stench of human and animal waste and dead flesh made Kaja twist up her face.
‘Death has come to gorge itself on this camp, Susi.’
Conrad spat on the ground as the odour tickled the back of his throat. ‘I fear you are right.’
At Valdemar’s pavilion Rudolf spoke to a herald who disappeared inside. After less than a minute he reappeared and ordered guards wearing ripped surcoats bearing the king’s insignia of three blue lions surrounded by red hearts on a yellow background to escort the Sword Brothers inside. The aroma under the canvas was only slightly better than that outside. Like most great pavilions it was divided into a number of rooms, the largest of which was the throne area where King Valdemar sat in a high-backed chair flanked by priests and lords. The churchmen looked deathly pale and jumpy, though a look of utter relief came over them as Rudolf and the others stood in a line in front of Valdemar and bowed their heads.
Conrad was taken aback by the king’s appearance. He had seen him only fleetingly on that fateful day in front of Reval. Then he had appeared regal and magnificent, a great warlord in mail on a mighty warhorse surrounded by a host of knights. But now he looked the shadow of that man, his hair greasy and matted, his shoulders slumped, his cheeks sunken and his tired eyes bereft of vigour. He raised a hand to Rudolf.
‘Greetings, Master Rudolf. Your arrival is most timely. God has subjected me to a great trial, which I have, with His assistance, passed. And now the Sword Brothers and Danes will unite to rid this island of the pestilence of paganism.’
There were mutterings of agreement from the knights, priests and officials flanking and behind the king, which was acknowledge by Valdemar with a half-hearted lift of a hand.
‘Your majesty underestimates the predicament of our situation,’ replied Rudolf. ‘We have come to expedite the evacuation of what remains of your majesty’s army, for my initial observation suggests that it is on its last legs.’
There were gasps from the king’s entourage at the Sword Brother’s impertinence, though Rudolf and the other two masters remained impassive as the officials and priests whispered among themselves.
‘Silence!’ snapped the king. He looked at Rudolf.
‘You seem to forget, Master Rudolf, that my ships currently blockade Livonia as punishment for the insolence shown to me outside Reval by your own order. Choose your words carefully, Sword Brother, lest my wrath towards your bishop and order increases.’
Rudolf ignored the king and turned to Lukas who removed the top covering of the leather tube, pulled out a large rolled parchment and handed it to Wenden’s master. Rudolf held it out to the king.
‘This is a document I had drawn up that I would be grateful if your majesty would sign. It is an order from your majesty lifting the blockade of Livonia, ceding all Estonian lands to the Order of Sword Brothers and reinstating Brother Conrad of our order to his position of Marshal of Estonia. If your majesty’s chamberlain or justiciar would care to read it I am sure they will find it straightforward and in order.’
Valdemar said nothing at first; in fact none of the Danes responded to Rudolf’s words. But then a tall, slim knight wearing a dirty surcoat that bore a white leaf design against a red background began to laugh. The others followed his example and soon the pavilion was filled by Danish laughter. The knight pointed at Rudolf.
‘You dare to speak to the king so? You should be on your knees to the monarch who has conquered the Baltic and all of northern Germany.’
Rudolf held the young man’s arrogant stare and waited for the laughter to die down. He spoke once more, his voice calm and firm.
‘The Oeselians blockade Matsalu Bay and Reval. This camp is surrounded and cut off from its supply base.’
He smiled at Valdemar. ‘As the conqueror of the Baltic does not require the services of the Sword Brothers we will depart and leave your majesty to joust with the Oeselians. Please forgive the interruption.’
He handed the document back to Lukas, bowed curtly to Valdemar, turned and strode towards the exit. Conrad saw a portly priest in a mitre and rich attire rush to Valdemar’s side.
‘Your majesty. I am imploring you to seize the opportunity that the Lord has sent.’
‘We are sorely pressed, majesty’ remarked a middle-aged knight standing immediately behind the king.
‘Wait,’ Valdemar ordered Rudolf.
Wenden’s master stopped and turned.
‘I have heard of the arrogance of the Sword Brothers,’ stated Valdemar, ‘but now I have seen it with my own eyes. You think that because my position is precarious I will yield to your insolent demands?’
‘I do,’ replied Rudolf.
‘Let me deal with him’ said Count Albert, who began to walk forward drawing his sword.
Immediately the three masters, Conrad, Lukas and Sir Richard drew their weapons, as did Kaja.
‘Stop!’ commanded Valdemar. ‘Put away your weapons, all of you.’
Rudolf stared unblinking at Count Albert, and then slid his sword back into its scabbard. The other masters and Sir Richard did the same. Conrad also sheathed his sword.
‘You too, Kaja.’
She sneered at Count Albert but did as she was told.
‘It is death to draw your sword in the presence of a king,’ remarked Valdemar casually.
‘We serve the King of kings,’ said Rudolf, ‘and answer to Him only.’
‘I do not yield to threats,’ stated Valdemar.
‘I make no threats, majesty,’ replied Rudolf. ‘I came here at the head of an army despite your declaration of war on the Bishop of Riga and the Sword Brothers, for how else may your actions be interpreted? As your enemy, therefore, I have extended an olive branch in good faith. But if you refuse my generous terms then I will have no hesitation in leaving this place.’
Valdemar cracked a half-smile. ‘Generous terms? You think giving up Estonia and ending the blockade is generous?’
‘Of course,’ said Rudolf. ‘Estonia was never yours in the first place and Lübeck has grown rich from the trade with Riga, which means that your coffers have been filled as you control the city. By maintaining the blockade you cut off your nose to spite your face.’
‘That is true, majesty,’ said the Bishop of Roskilde.
Valdemar angrily waved him away and rose from his chair.
‘What will the Sword Brothers give me in return should I decide to accept your terms?’
Rudolf walked forward and bowed his head. ‘I would guarantee that my order would not assault Reval, majesty.’
‘Is that all?’ said Valdemar in exasperation.
‘It is an outrage,’ fumed Count Albert.
Rudolf turned and pointed at Kaja. ‘Take off your helmet.’
She did so and shook her hair free. The Danes looked, astounded, at the blue-eyed beauty who was dressed and armed like a man. Rudolf pointed at the count.
‘Any more noise from you and I will order this girl to castrate you, boy.’
Mathias and Bertram laughed, though Sir Richard looked uncomfortable. Conrad smirked and rested his hand on the pommel of his sword in case the angry young knight decided to attack Kaja.
Rudolf pointed at him. ‘This is Conrad Wolff, Marshal of Estonia, who has brought his army to Oesel. It stands outside this tent. If we withdraw without the king’s agreement then I will unleash him and his army against Reval, supported by the siege engines of the Sword Brothers.’
‘You would do that?’ said the king.
‘You declared yourself an enemy of my order, my lord,’ said Rudolf. ‘Enemies fight each other. I would merely be fulfilling the obligations that you yourself have placed upon me.’
Valdemar stared at Conrad. ‘So you are the leader of the army of pagans. Is your army so deficient that you have to include young girls among its ranks?’
Conrad was about to answer but looked at Rudolf first. The master nodded.
‘This young girl has just defeated the Oeselians, majesty, which is more than can be said for Denmark’s nobles.’
Valdemar’s knights were outraged at this and were about to launch themselves at Conrad, who stepped back and adopted a fighting stance, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. But Valdemar stood once more and commanded his knights to control themselves.
‘Keeper of the Seal, step forward.’
There were glances between the Danes and then the Bishop of Roskilde approached the king.
‘He was killed yesterday, majesty.’
Valdemar closed his eyes. ‘Who then has my seal?’
‘His deputy, my liege.’
‘Whoever has my seal, let him show himself.’
A short, middle-aged man with a ruddy complexion gingerly stepped from behind the Danish lords and prelates. He had a leather bag slung over his shoulder. He bowed deeply to Valdemar.
‘Majesty.’
The king pointed at Rudolf. ‘I will set my seal to your wretched document so I can be away from this pestilential island. I will end my blockade of Livonia because it harms the interests of Denmark. I will also renounce my claim to Estonia, excepting Reval, as a gesture of friendship to the Bishop of Riga, a prince of the Catholic Church who is engaged upon a holy mission in these parts.’
To the anguish of his knights but the utter relief of his priests hot wax was dripped on to Rudolf’s document and stamped with the king’s seal. He then signed it. It was handed back to Rudolf who gave it to Lukas for safekeeping.
‘But know, Master Rudolf,’ said Valdemar, ‘that the Sword Brothers, Marshal of Estonia and his heathen army are still my enemies, against which I will strive to exact vengeance for the insult done to me this day.’
Rudolf bowed to Valdemar. ‘Majesty.’
Once the agreement had been sealed Rudolf was most urgent for the king and what was left of his army to be away from the death trap that his camp had become. The seriously wounded were left behind to be either killed or taken as slaves by the Oeselians, though as they could not walk they would probably be sacrificed to Taarapita, the islanders’ god of war. Any livestock, ponies and horses still alive were similarly abandoned, much to the anger of the knights who killed their own warhorses rather than see them fall into the hands of the enemy.
Valdemar had arrived on Oesel with two thousand fighting men and an entourage of three hundred priests, courtiers and members of the royal household. He left with six hundred soldiers, half of whom were walking wounded and two hundred of his entourage.
Rudolf set a cruel pace to the evacuation beach, eager to be off the island before the day was out. He placed his crossbowmen in the rear and on the flanks and gave orders that they were to shoot at any Oeselians that showed themselves. Fifty wounded Danes expired during the journey, their bodies left behind in the oak forest the army retreated through.
On the beach an ebullient Master Rudolf bellowed at Danes and Sword Brothers alike to board the boats that had come ashore to pick them up. Conrad went over to him as Leatherface and his crossbowmen knelt on the shingle facing the forest, waiting for the Oeselians to pour from the trees. Kaja trailed after him, proudly carrying the flag that now fluttered in a stiffening breeze. Rudolf was watching the portly Bishop of Roskilde clambering aboard the boat where the king stood on the deck. Two of his priests unceremoniously shoved him up and over the gunwale.
‘I fear you have made an enemy of King Valdemar, master,’ said Conrad.
Rudolf gave a low laugh. ‘He was always my enemy, Conrad, and yours. But I have forced him to lift the stranglehold he had over Livonia and accept that he has no claim on Estonia.’
He turned and slapped Conrad on the arm. ‘And you have your command back.’
The boat containing the king was pushed off by its crew, the wind filling its sail as it and others left the island.
‘He will be back, master.’
‘He might,’ agreed Rudolf, ‘but did you notice that there were no German lords among his followers. I wonder if Valdemar has alienated those whom he had defeated and forced to be his vassals.’
Conrad also wondered if Rudolf had been disappointed that his father had not been present to witness his victory over Valdemar but said nothing. For his part he was disappointed that Count Henry had not been on Oesel.
‘So, girl,’ Rudolf said to Kaja, ‘what did you think of the King of Denmark?’
‘He looked tired and defeated, master,’ was her reply. ‘But will he keep his word?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Rudolf. ‘He put his seal and signature to a document in front of witnesses and in the sight of God.’
After all the boats had left the beach and formed into a long line of vessels in the strait, Oeselian warriors came from the forest and watched them disappear. When they returned to the mainland Rudolf gave a great feast in honour of King Valdemar’s arrival. He gave the king his tent and masters Bertram and Mathias gave their tents to his closest advisers. In the morning he gave the king a horse so he could lead his soldiers and entourage to the Danish ships that were blockaded in Matsalu Bay some ten miles to the north. Hillar provided guides to lead the Danes through the peat bogs and flooded meadows that covered this part of Rotalia. From Matsalu Bay the king could be re-provisioned for the onward jour
ney to Varbola and then Reval.
Rudolf had the whole army paraded as Valdemar and his ragged band trooped north. He made sure that Kaja, minus her helmet, was next to him in the front rank of Sword Brother horsemen as the king rode past, stony faced and staring directly ahead. But Rudolf knew that Valdemar had seen her, the Estonian girl who had rescued the conqueror of north Germany from the Oeselians.
*****
The speed with which the sickness spread through Odenpah was sedate in comparison to the spread of fear and despair that accompanied it. At first men, woman and children were afflicted by a high fever, followed by chills, severe headaches and backaches. Everyone was affected, from Kalju and his wife to the most wretched slaves that lived like pigs in the hovels at the foot of the fort’s outer wall. Healers inside the citadel also fell sick and so others were summoned from the surrounding villages. They made medicines from meadow sweet, cranberry and bilberry in an effort to battle the blistered rashes that had appeared first on the victims’ faces, hands and feet before covering their whole bodies. They painted pentagrams on the walls and chanted over the pain-racked sufferers. But it was all in vain.
Huge bonfires ringed the fort because everyone knew that the flames had a purifying effect and warded off evil spirits. Leather belts tied with ribbons were fastened around the bodies of Kalju, Eha, Luule, Maarja and Maimu in an effort to enlist the help of the gods and save the royal family. But as the days passed and blood poured from every orifice of their bodies hope faded. Half of those who lived and worked in the fort had died by the time that Kalju passed away, his wife following him two days later. In his lucid moments the chief had given orders that no one was to enter or leave the fort until the pestilence had passed, and that the dead and their clothing, bedding and possessions were to be immediately cremated. So it was that for days black smoke hung over the fort as the bodies were burnt beyond the outer walls. Luule died a day after her mother and Maimu the day after her sister. It was reckoned a miracle that Maarja recovered for everyone believed that Tooni, the God of Death, was resident at Odenpah despite the frantic efforts of the priests and healers to appease him and send him on his way.