by Peter Darman
‘So he can convey a message to Kristjan, your grace.’
Conrad turned to face the man. ‘He is at Fellin?’
‘He may be,’ the prisoner answered evasively.
Conrad looked at Sir Richard.
‘Very well, Marshal of Estonia, I relinquish him to your mercy.’
Paul sighed loudly, earning him a rebuke from Sir Richard.
‘Tell Kristjan this,’ Conrad told the prisoner. ‘He may have won a few easy victories but soon Bishop Albert will turn his vengeful gaze towards Ungannia and when he does he will show no mercy. He will send a great army to conquer Ungannia and lay waste to its villages. The men of iron will crush Kristjan’s warriors and machines will reduce his forts to splinters. Tell him that if he does not surrender himself immediately to the mercy of the Bishop of Riga he will bring about the end of Ungannia and the enslavement of its people.’
The man looked disinterested as he was led away.
‘I remember Kristjan from the last time we were at Odenpah,’ said Anton. ‘He was an arrogant pup then and took a dislike to Conrad. Obviously losing his parents has not changed his nature or his opinion of our order.’
‘Let us hope that your words cower him, Conrad,’ said Sir Richard, ‘because if not then he will hold Fellin for the rest of the year.’
‘You will not assault it, lord?’ asked Rameke.
Sir Richard shook his head. ‘I do not have to worry about just Fellin. There are Ungannian bands roving all over Saccalia. This fort is full of those who have fled their villages after they were attacked. Others have fled to the forests. It is difficult to estimate but there may be a thousand Ungannian warriors in Saccalia.’
Hans was astounded. ‘That many?’
‘This Kristjan has gathered every man to his banner,’ said Sir Richard.
‘Which makes letting one go so he can fight again little sense,’ added Paul.
‘Be quiet,’ Sir Richard ordered him.
The English lord continued. ‘Even with the lifting of the Danish blockade the bishop will not be able to travel to Germany and return to Livonia with an army before the leaves begin to turn brown. And few crusaders will wish to arrive in winter so that means it will be next spring until matters in Saccalia can be addressed.’
Conrad walked back to his seat.
‘Rameke and I rode with four hundred men, your grace,’ he said, ‘plus fifty crossbows and twenty barrels of bolts, a gift from Master Rudolf. He is most desirous that Saccalia remains loyal.’
‘We could assault Fellin, lord,’ suggested Hans, ‘before invading Ungannia.’
‘In normal circumstances I would agree with you,’ replied Sir Richard, ‘but these are not normal circumstances. Tonis, tell our guests what news your scouts have gleaned.’
‘The Harrien, Wierlanders and Jerwen are in open rebellion against their Danish overlords,’ said Tonis. ‘The Oeselians have joined this rebellion I have been told.’
‘And the Russians?’ asked Conrad.
‘No word of them stirring in the east, Susi,’ answered Tonis.
‘Not yet,’ said Sir Richard, ‘but I would stake my warhorse on them joining in sooner or later, which leads me to my plan for the rest of the summer and winter.’
He looked at the leader of the wolf shields. ‘I have talked with Tonis and he is in agreement that we should stand on the defensive here at Lehola until the bishop arrives with an army.’
Sir Richard turned his attention to Conrad. ‘But to do so means Lehola becoming a citadel not a refuge. There are over five hundred women, children and elderly currently within its walls. They cannot go back to their villages and I would not see them suffer in the sanctuaries deep in the forests.’
‘It is easy enough in the summer but would mean death for most when the snows come,’ said Tonis.
‘You will understand, Conrad,’ continued Sir Richard, ‘that as a Christian lord I cannot abandon those who are under my protection to such a fate.’
‘Of course not, your grace,’ replied Conrad. ‘So what is to be done?’
‘The village to the south of Wenden, Susi,’ said Tonis, ‘is large enough to provide them with shelter, especially now that Andres and Hillar are in Rotalia.’
‘I would ask you and Rameke to take these people back with you to Wenden, Conrad,’ said Sir Richard, ‘so that Lehola is filled with soldiers only.’
‘It took us ten days to get here,’ said Anton, ‘four hundred armed men in the saddle guided by scouts. It would take us upwards of a month to get back with five hundred young and old travelling on foot.’
‘Women, children and the old would slow us down,’ agreed Hans. ‘And if we were attacked many would die.’
Squire Paul laughed out loud. ‘So much for protecting the weak and needy, isn’t that what it says in the rules of the Sword Brothers? I do not know, not being able to read.’
‘You won’t be able to speak if you keep on,’ Sir Richard threatened him, ‘for your tongue will be cut out.’
‘No, he is right,’ said Conrad. ‘We took a vow to respect and defend the weak, the sick and the needy and that is what we will do.’
He looked at Rameke. ‘But my brother took no such vow and it is his warriors who rode to this place.’
Rameke smiled at him. ‘We are brothers and share our triumphs and perils.’
He cast a glance at Kaja. ‘Besides, Saccalia is dear to my heart.’
Hans peered at the stale piece of bread. ‘Well we had better fill our bellies before we set out. It is going to be a long journey.’
The next day Conrad sent Riki and his fifty Harrien west while Sir Richard allowed his knights to stretch their horses’ legs by despatching patrols north, east and south to hunt down any straggling Ungannians. The rest of the garrison divided their time between taking part in hunting parties and saying farewell to their families as the latter prepared to make the journey south to Wenden. Conrad stood with his two friends, Sir Richard and Rameke as those too old to walk or ride were assisted onto two-wheeled carts and made comfortable.
‘Well,’ said Hans, ‘God reminds us of our duties for He has provided us with an abundance of the helpless and needy for us to assist.’
Tonis embraced a fair-haired girl who was clearly distressed at having to leave her beloved. She stood with other young women, some clutching the hands of children and others holding babies in their arms.
‘I hope we have enough men to fend off any assaults,’ said Rameke. ‘If we are attacked and enemy warriors get among our column it will be slaughter.’
‘Perhaps I could spare Tonis and his wolf shields,’ pondered Sir Richard, ‘that is your wolf shields, Conrad.’
‘Tonis,’ called Conrad.
The strapping Saccalian commander sauntered over.
‘Susi?’
‘Sir Richard gives you a choice, Tonis,’ said Conrad, ‘as do I. You can march south with us to protect your beloved and her family, or you can remain here with your wolf shields. The decision is yours to make.’
He looked back at the attractive young woman in her green woollen skirt, her hair falling down her back. He was clearly torn and knew that if he stayed he would not see her again for a year, if he saw her at all. At length he sighed and turned back to Conrad.
‘I am Saccalian, Susi. If I march south then I will abandon my homeland. My place is here, at Lehola.’
Conrad placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Lehola will never fall with men such as you defending its ramparts, Tonis.’
‘The Marshal of Estonia speaks the truth,’ said Sir Richard. ‘And know, Tonis, that the Duke of Saccalia breathes a huge sigh of relief at your decision.’
Conrad looked at the white clouds and blue sky above. There was an easterly breeze that gave the morning a slight chill but it was now summer and by noon it would be very warm.
‘We must be away. I want to get as much distance between here and tonight’s camp as possible.’
He looked at Sir Richard. ‘
I hope, your grace, that Lehola will draw the Ungannians as a flame draws moths to allow us to sneak away unseen.’
Sir Richard smiled. ‘Pray God it is so.’
He offered his hand to Conrad. ‘God be with you.’
Conrad took it. ‘And with you, your grace. Send word to Wenden if you are hard pressed. I have men in Rotalia and they can be joined with forces that Master Rudolf can muster to raise a relief force.’
Sir Richard looked at the imposing walls of Lehola. ‘Now I don’t have the civilians in the fort it will be a hard nut to crack. I intend to be a thorn in this Kristjan’s side.’ He looked at the women and children. ‘Men fight better if they know that their families are safe.’
‘Rameke, will you command the vanguard?’ asked Conrad. ‘I will bring up the rear with Hans and Anton.’
Rameke nodded, said his farewells to Tonis and Sir Richard and made to leave. But then stopped and turned.
‘Conrad, it is dangerous for Kaja to carry your banner. If we are attacked then she will become the enemy’s chief target. I would ask you to entrust it to another.’
‘I will carry it,’ offered Hans, ‘if she will surrender it.’
A happy Rameke walked away to organise his men. The Sword Brothers went to the fort’s stables to saddle their horses and then led them out of the gates to where the press of civilians waited, a profusion of reds, greens, blues and greys, most of them belonging to skirts and shawls. Conrad shook his head. He had become a nursemaid. He and his two friends looked up at the battlements where Sir Richard and Tonis were standing. He raised a hand to them both and then to Rameke and the great retreat began.
Kaja refused to relinquish her banner.
The pace was slow, the warriors walking beside their ponies holding the reins, a woman or child in the saddle. Some women cradled babies in their arms as they sat in the saddle while some of the children insisted on skipping along beside the beasts. Rameke, at the head of the column, sent out scouts to reconnoitre the route ahead and the forests on either side. Conrad, his shield slung on his back, his helmet and two lances dangling from his saddle, walked beside his horse, a young girl sitting in the saddle. Riding Hans’ horse was a sullen teenage boy, the girl’s brother, and on Anton’s horse the pair’s mother, a frightened woman in her twenties whose eyes had seen much misery and death during the past few weeks. The girl, though, perhaps taking refuge in a make-believe world, was cheerful and inquisitive.
‘What’s his name?’
Conrad, far from happy at the column’s lethargic pace, his eyes constantly scanning the trees for signs of an enemy, was not listening.
‘Huh?’
‘Your horse, what’s his name?’ pressed the girl.
‘He doesn’t have one.’
‘Then how do you call him?’
Conrad rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t call him. I go to the stables to collect him.’
‘My name is Hele,’ she said, ‘It means “bright”, isn’t that right, mother?’
The woman managed a half-smile and nodded. Conrad rolled his eyes to Hans.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Mother of Christ,’ said Conrad.
‘That’s a funny name,’ smiled Hele, revealing her two front teeth had yet to sprout.
‘What? No, my name is Brother Conrad.’
‘You are lucky Father Otto didn’t hear you blaspheme, Conrad,’ said Anton, ‘otherwise it would have been a flogging for you.’
‘What’s a flogging?’ said the girl innocently.
‘Hush, Hele,’ said her mother, ‘this is Susi. He has better things to do than amuse you.’
But Hele’s eyes lit up. ‘Susi? The wolf of the forest.’
Then she looked confused. ‘You do not look like a wolf.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Hans, ‘bedraggled hair, fangs and bad tempered. I would say he is a lot like a wolf.’
‘I am not bad tempered,’ snapped Conrad.
Hans smiled at Hele. ‘See what I mean?’
The first day passed without incident, on the second the column made good progress through meadows filled with bilberries, cloudberries and blueberries. When a campsite was chosen, usually beside a stream or brook, the men pitched the tents while the women would spend time picking edible mushrooms and wild strawberries and raspberries to supplement the cured meat and biscuits that the Sword Brothers had brought with them. The warm weather, pleasant sights and smells and peaceful nature of the terrain they were moving through lessened the fear and anxiety among the civilians. But for Conrad the tension within him increased each day. He saw the enemy everywhere: among the trees, in the tall meadow grass and lying in wait by the sides of fords. He hated being a nursemaid.
On the third night, as he stood guard in the descending gloom of dusk, he saw movement in the trees and then ghost-like figures emerging from the edge of the forest.
‘Stand to!’ he shouted as the enemy shuffled towards him.
Horn blasts shattered the silence and frightened birds flew from trees as warriors grabbed weapons and shields and rallied to their chiefs. Hans and Anton came bounding over to their friend, followed by Rameke and Kaja, the latter wearing a helmet with sword and shield in hand. Conrad drew his sword and slipped his left forearm through the straps on the inside of his shield. Ahead the enemy continued their advance. Behind them crying children and frightened women huddled together.
‘They are not warriors,’ said Kaja, ‘they are villagers.’
Hans laughed and slapped Conrad on the back.
‘You’ve been listening to too many stories about forest demons, my friend.’
‘Stand down,’ Conrad shouted, ramming his sword back in its scabbard.
The bedraggled group shuffled forward, their heads bowed and arms raised in the air as an act of submission. They were dirty, tired and their clothes were torn. A middle-aged man with sunken eyes spoke to the Sword Brothers, avoiding their eyes as he spoke.
‘We were hiding in the forest when we saw you pass, lords. We beg that you take us with you.’
It was quite pathetic, thought Conrad. They asked for succour even though they did not know where his column was heading. Most of them had probably never left their village, let alone Saccalia. He doubted they knew where Wenden was. But what could he say?
‘Warm yourselves by our fires,’ he said. ‘You are welcome to join us.’
The next day saw two more groups venture from the forests to ask for protection. One contained mostly children, all of them barefooted and gaunt. So the column swelled in numbers as it wound its way south. Hele talked incessantly, about the birds, the sky, the pigs in her village and wolves.
‘Did you know that they howl at night, Conrad?’
‘Yes, I believe they do.’
‘Do you howl at night?’
He looked up at her. ‘Of course not.’
‘He does snore, though,’ said Hans.
‘Most loudly,’ smiled Anton.
Hele giggled and his two friends laughed. Even the surly brother managed a smirk and the mother looked as though the great burden she carried – the loss of her husband – had lifted a little. The sun was shining, the rain had mostly held off and the spirits of the civilians were slowly improving. The afternoon was again bright and sunny, with a westerly breeze making tramping through meadow grass in full armour bearable. And it was on that breeze that the sounds of men’s shouts were brought.
The hairs on the back of Conrad’s neck stood up and he swung round to look at Hans and Anton. They had heard them too and knew that horsemen were approaching. Conrad held up his hands to Hele and asked her to ride with her mother for a few moments while he spoke to his friend. She smiled as he passed her over to her mother, who now had alarm in her eyes.
He jumped into the saddle and galloped along the line of ponies and carts.
‘Have a care,’ he shouted to the warriors.
This had the effect of sending alarm along the column with the speed of a lightning
bolt. When he reached Rameke and Kaja the warriors had picked up their pace and the cart drivers urged their beasts on.
‘We have company, coming from the east,’ Conrad said to them.
‘There is a ford ahead,’ Rameke told him. ‘We should get the people across it so the enemy will be forced to cross the river at the same place and cannot outflank us.’
‘How far is it away?’
‘The scouts report about a quarter of a mile.’
Conrad wheeled his horse around. ‘I will protect the rear. God be with you.’
‘I will come with you, Susi,’ said Kaja.
‘No,’ he ordered, ‘stay with Rameke.’
He dug his spurs into the sides of his horse and galloped back to Hans and Anton. On the way he collected over a score of Rameke’s men, all of whom had spears in addition to axes. He jumped down from his horse and lifted Hele back into his saddle. He told three of the warriors to lead Hele and her family towards the ford with all speed, first taking the lances and helmet from his horse.
‘Where are you going, Conrad?’ Hele called to him.
‘To speak to some wolves,’ he shouted back.
‘An apt analogy,’ mused Anton, the sounds of the approaching horsemen getting louder.
Conrad ordered the warriors to form into line, Hans and Anton falling in either side of him.
‘Back as quick as you can,’ he told them, ‘but hold your formation.’
They had gone but a hundred paces when the horsemen appeared, black shapes in the distance that rapidly became larger. Conrad looked behind him. The column of ponies and carts were hurrying to the ford and there was a widening gap between him and it. He looked back at the horsemen, now about four hundred paces away. The meadow was wide and flat and they were right in the middle of it.
‘Back,’ he shouted.
The warriors needed no second prompting, racing away with the brother knights following. They covered another two hundred paces before Conrad could hear hooves clubbing the earth.
‘Stand,’ he shouted.
A panting Hans and Anton stood beside him, the other warriors closing up on either side of them. Behind them the ponies and carts were splashing across the ford; in front the horsemen, all wearing black leather cuirasses, helmets and carrying round shields bearing the sign of the moon, deployed into line and levelled their spears at Conrad’s thin line.