by Peter Darman
‘Do not worry, we will avoid enemy patrols to arrive safely at the rendezvous point.’
‘Rendezvous point?’ said Conrad. ‘You speak as though a great army is gathering.’
‘Word has been sent to those village elders and chiefs who still live to gather at the place,’ replied Tonis. ‘If it pleases the gods then we will have enough men to free Lehola.’
Conrad glanced at the shield. ‘Why do you care about whether Lehola falls or not? It is occupied by Christian forces not the followers of Lembit.’
‘Sir Richard has been good to us,’ replied Tonis. ‘He lets us live our lives and does not force his beliefs on us. He is fair.’
Conrad glanced at the shield again. ‘Was not Lembit fair?’
‘Lembit was a great warlord but a harsh leader. He believed that he was sent by Ukku to rid the world of the Sword Brothers.’ Tonis stared ahead. ‘You killed him in battle so he was wrong about that.’
He turned to see Conrad staring at his shield.
‘You keep looking at my shield. It disturbs you?’
Conrad looked at the blue-eyed pagan. ‘You still carry Lembit’s symbol on your shield.’
Tonis was surprised. ‘Lembit’s symbol? You are wrong. I told you. The wolf is revered among my people and its face adorned the shields of warriors long before Lembit existed.’
They rode on in silence, Conrad filled with resentment and mistrust towards this Estonian who had seemingly wormed his way into the affections of Master Rudolf and Sir Richard. He had no confidence that this Saccalian would prove to be of use or that there would be any men at this forest rendezvous.
They journeyed for seven days through a land covered with trees and afflicted by cool, windy weather. September was traditionally the wettest month of the year in Livonia and Estonia joined its southern neighbour in its dreary clime. When it was not raining there was a mist clinging to the trees, ponies and their riders. The dozens of lakes they passed by only added to the miserable damp conditions. At night they warmed themselves by fires and ate hot porridge to maintain their strength, the crossbowmen being careful to wrap their weapons in waterproof covers to preserve the stocks and bowstrings. The brother knights slept in felt tents wrapping themselves in their thick cloaks but after a day in the saddle they were cold and aching.
On the eighth day they entered a great forest that Tonis informed Conrad was the place set for the rendezvous. He led them on a trail that threaded through a scene splashed with autumn reds and golds as the leaves of the maples, birch and rowan changed colour. The forest floor was thick with blueberries, cranberries and mushrooms that were edible, Hans insisting on a halt so he could gather some to add to the stew that he was planning for that evening.
As they moved deeper into the forest Conrad noticed pieces of brightly coloured cloth tied to oak trees and metal objects placed in tree hollows.
‘They are gifts for the gods,’ said Tonis. ‘My people believe that many of the trees have spirits that will protect them if they present them with gifts. We see the gods and spirits all around us. Did you know that Estonians, the Esti, originally meant “people of the land”?’
‘I did not,’ confessed Conrad.
But what he did realise was that it had suddenly become very quiet. There was no mist in the forest but the air was still cold and clammy and his senses told him they were not alone. He held up a hand to halt the column and looked around. All he could see were spruce and pine but he felt eyes on him. He placed his helmet on his head, drew his sword, and took his shield off his back to grip it with his left arm. Behind him Anton, Johann and Hans likewise drew their weapons. There was absolute silence: no birds singing or woodpeckers tapping on trees and no animals moving around.
‘It is too quiet,’ whispered Conrad.
‘You are perceptive, Sword Brother,’ said Tonis, who suddenly whistled loudly, spooking the ponies.
There was a rustle ahead and then two figures revealed themselves from among the foliage. They were both wearing helmets and carried round wooden shields, though Conrad noticed that neither carried any design. They had no armour and as far as he could see their only weapons were spears. They approached Tonis and raised their spears.
‘I have returned,’ said the wolf shield, gesturing behind him, ‘and bring reinforcements.’
He leaned forward. ‘How many have come?’
‘Over a hundred, Tonis,’ replied one of the warriors.
‘And some Jerwen and Rotalians,’ added the other one.
Tonis nodded and turned to Conrad. ‘You can take your helmet off now. It’s quite safe.’
He nudged his pony forward, past the two warriors, and continued on the path. Conrad removed his helm and followed, the two warriors staring at his white surcoat bearing the insignia of his order. They watched Anton, Johann and Hans pass them before returning to their hidden observation point. Ten minutes later, having passed another two guards, they entered the Estonian camp, though mass of hovels would be a more accurate description. There were no tents just a great collection of shelters constructed from branches and boughs that surrounded a great clearing in the forest. The air was thick with smoke from the dozens of small fires, the smoke mixing with the damp air to create a thick, choking atmosphere. Dirty faced women clutched infants to their breasts and children with listless eyes ignored the new arrivals as they wrapped threadbare garments around them to fend off the damp cold.
‘Not much to look at,’ said Anton in German.
Tonis slid off his pony’s back and people started to gather round him. An old man wearing a mail shirt and a sword at his hip clasped forearms with the wolf shield. His shoulder length hair was grey and thinning but his eyes were alert and his expression determined. Conrad and the other brother knights dismounted as Tonis escorted the old man over.
‘Brother Conrad, this is Peeter, one of our most revered elders.’
The old man, who must have been at least sixty, offered his hand and Conrad took it. The grip on his forearm was remarkably strong for such an aged individual.
‘So this is one of the men of iron that we have come to fear and loathe.’
He continued to hold Conrad’s arm in a vice-like grip as he examined the brother knight. He grunted and released it.
‘Brother Conrad was the one who killed Lembit at Wolf Rock, lord,’ said Tonis.
‘Wolf Rock?’ queried Conrad.
‘That was the name of the great boulder where the battle was fought,’ answered Peeter. ‘The gods planted these great rocks over all Estonia when the world was young. They are sacred to our people, that is why Lembit decided to fight you there.’
‘It was a close thing,’ said Hans who had walked over to them. ‘Hardest battle I have fought in.’
Peeter regarded the thin man before him who erred on the side of gauntness.
‘You have fought many battles?’
‘A fair number,’ smiled Hans who sniffed the air. ‘I can smell stew.’
‘I shot a roe deer earlier,’ said the old man, ‘you are welcome to a bowl of the stew to fill your stomach.’
Hans rubbed his hands. ‘Lovely.’
Conrad held up a hand. ‘One moment, Hans. Peeter, I have been appointed commander of the men sent to aid you and Tonis relieve Lehola. How far are we from the fort?’
‘A day’s march,’ replied Peeter. He looked beyond Conrad to where the crossbowmen were checking the covers of the loads on the ponies’ backs.
‘You do not bring many warriors.’
Leather face wandered over to stand behind the four brother knights.
‘In addition to the men you see before you,’ said Conrad, ‘I bring weapons to equip your warriors, though I do not see many before me.’
Peeter bristled at the condescending tone of Conrad’s voice. He gestured to one of his men who blew a horn three times. Children began wailing and women looked momentarily alarmed until they saw that Peeter was standing with his arms folded, indicating that it was not an
alarm signal. After a few minutes men began to gather round him, though Conrad noticed that the vast majority were either teenage boys or men with grey in their hair and beards. They wore a variety of brown, green and grey woollen tunics, linen trousers, boots or simple one-piece shoes tied with laces. The lucky ones had large capes to keep them warm; others shivered in the cold. Around half had shields and less helmets. For weapons all had spears, though Conrad noted with despair that some had no blades, only sharpened ends. The most fearsome were a score of men in helmets and mail armour armed with spears and axes tucked in their belts. Every one carried a stag symbol on his shield.
‘One hundred and fifty Saccalians, fifty Jerwen and twenty Rotalians,’ announced Peeter proudly.
‘How many of you have fought in a shield wall?’ shouted Conrad.
Around half raised their hands, most of them who had seen too many summers.
‘Your numbers are instantly halved,’ he told Peeter.
‘Sir Richard told me that the Sword Brothers were great warriors who would not fail us,’ said Tonis bitterly.
‘I cannot work miracles,’ replied Conrad. ‘Two hundred boys and old men are not enough to relieve Lehola.’
‘Then give us the weapons you have brought so we may attempt to save our brothers in the fort,’ Peeter shot back.
‘You will fail,’ stated Conrad.
Peeter and Tonis began to vehemently protest when leather face stepped forward and placed an arm around Conrad’s shoulders.
‘Begging your pardon, sirs. If I could have a word with the commander.’
He led Conrad away until they were out of earshot.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked Conrad.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Conrad replied, slightly perturbed that the old mercenary was displaying such familiarity.
Leather face took his arm from Conrad’s shoulder and began to jab the brother knight in the chest. ‘Rudolf made you commander of this expedition, not its priest. Your job is not to whine and moralise but to relieve the fort.’
Conrad brushed away his jabbing finger. ‘With old men and boys?’
‘Why not? Being a commander means having to work with what you have to hand.’
He placed a thumb on one nostril and exhaled sharply, expelling phlegm from the other nostril.
‘Tell you what. Issue the weapons and you can stay here with the women and babies while we take the fort.’
‘I am in command,’ snarled Conrad.
Leather face wiped his hand on his discoloured gambeson. ‘Yes you are, so what are you going to do?’
He left Conrad and walked over to Peeter and Tonis. ‘Brother Conrad is just formulating a plan to relieve the fort, sirs,’ he announced loudly. ‘He will be with you shortly.’
Hans, Anton and Johann all looked at Conrad expectantly and excited chatter broke out among the assembled warriors. Leather face wore an impish grin. Conrad walked slowly back to the two Saccalians, desperately trying to think of a plan. Hans slapped him on the arm and Anton and Johann nodded. The chatter ebbed away as dozens of pairs of eyes stared at him. Peeter still had his arms folded.
‘First of all,’ said Conrad with as much force as he could muster, ‘we will issue the weapons.’
The warriors gave a hearty cheer. They nodded knowingly to each other and smiled like the simple-minded. Then they turned their attention back to Conrad.
‘And now I need to speak to your leaders to finalise the plan of attack,’ he said, having absolutely no idea what that would be.
They gave him another cheer and were dismissed by Peeter, who at last unfolded his arms.
‘That’s much better,’ said leather face. ‘Unpack the weapons,’ he shouted to his subordinate. ‘Give them to the chief to distribute,’ he said to Conrad.
Peeter was delighted to be asked to allot the spears, axes, daggers and helmets to his men, and quickly organised them into orderly lines while the crossbowmen unpacked the loads on the ponies and laid them out on canvas sheets on the ground. An excited chatter rippled through the old men and young boys once more as they waited to be equipped. Anton, Hans and Johann assisted in handing out the weapons, leaving Conrad alone with his thoughts.
‘They’re as happy as pigs in shit,’ said leather face.
‘They are still too old or too young,’ observed Conrad.
But leather face had the bit between his teeth. ‘Now don’t you get despairing. You are used to fighting with the best weapons and equipment that money can buy, which is fine but in this instance blinds you to the obvious.’
‘What is that?’
Leather face rolled his eyes. ‘That these men know the local terrain, can get you to the fort unnoticed so you can spring an attack.’
‘Even with your crossbowmen our shield wall will be unable to break a better equipped and trained enemy.’
Leather face sighed. ‘The Lord give me strength. You are thinking of battles and disciplined formations but your greatest strength lies in stealth and surprise. Use their knowledge and the weather to your advantage.’
‘The weather?’
Leather face winked. ‘It might be pissing down with rain almost every day but that also means that there is a lot of mist around, especially when there’s no wind. You can hide a lot in a good mist.’
‘Perhaps you should be the commander,’ said Conrad.
‘I did think about offering my services as such to Master Rudolf but he would have argued about the price.’
‘Price?’
Leather face grinned. ‘I may be the commander of the crossbowmen but to lead an expedition means either an increase in my monthly rate or a large bonus in addition to the one I’m already getting.’
That night, as Hans stuffed his face with venison stew, Conrad thought long and hard about the plan to relieve the fort as he was served stew by a beautiful Saccalian girl with blue eyes and golden hair. He sat with his three comrades, Peeter, whose demeanour had become friendlier now that his warriors had been issued with weapons, and Tonis. Conrad shovelled the last of the thick broth into his mouth and licked his bowl clean.
‘Would Susi like some more?’ asked the girl, her face breaking into a wide grin.
Conrad looked at her. ‘Susi?’
‘It means “wolf”,’ said Peeter, smiling at the girl.
‘I’ll have some more,’ interrupted Hans, holding out his bowl like a pathetic beggar.
The girl walked over to him and took it, then returned to Conrad. ‘And you, Susi?’
Conrad shook his head. ‘No, thank you.’
She went back to the cooking pot hanging over a fire to fill Hans’ bowl.
‘Word has spread of your name, Conrad Wolff,’ said Peeter. ‘People think it is a good omen, a portent of victory.’
‘What is so special about Conrad’s name?’ asked Johann.
‘His first name, nothing,’ answered Peeter, ‘but his second name is thought as propitious. “Susi” is the ancient name for “wolf” and people think it no coincidence that he has been sent to us.’
‘How short are people’s memories,’ said Anton. ‘Do they know that Conrad, and us for that matter, fought Lembit and even laid siege to the fort we now go to relieve?’
‘They know,’ replied Tonis, ‘and they know that Conrad killed Lembit.’
‘Then I truly do not understand,’ said Conrad.
‘You must realise,’ Peeter told them, ‘that in our folklore the wolf is the most important animal of the forest, one who watches over us and protects us. We know that he commits misdeeds, steals our cattle and sheep and inflicts losses on us. But the wolf has inhabited the forest for thousands of years, has great wisdom and is beloved of the gods. People have interpreted your coming as a good omen, Conrad Wolff. They look to you to deliver them from peril.’
Conrad smiled but felt the burden of expectation press down greatly upon him. After the meal he posted guards and accompanied Peeter on an inspection of the camp, which contained a my
riad of campfires.
‘Will the fort be able to see the glow of these fires?’ queried Conrad.
Peeter shook his head. ‘We are deep in the forest and there are rolling hills between here and Lehola. I know this land. We remain unseen.’
They walked among the makeshift shelters with their occupants wrapped in cloaks and shawls.
‘Where are the men in their twenties and thirties?’ asked Conrad.
Peeter shrugged. ‘They died defending their homes and their families. The invaders came like a great flood upon Saccalia and the menfolk died so the old, young and women could escape. And our best warriors are trapped in Fellin and Lehola.
‘We have to get these people into the forts before the winter comes otherwise they will perish.’
‘What about their villages?’ enquired Conrad.
‘Burned to the ground, mostly. The invaders knew what they were doing.’
Conrad asked about the enemy at Lehola, the location of their camp, the guards they posted and the patrols they sent out. He told Peeter about how he had taken part in the siege of the fort four years earlier when it had been Lembit’s stronghold.
‘We felled trees and dug ditches for days,’ he told the old warrior.
‘The crusader ditch is still there, though a little overgrown, as are the trees to the north of the fort that you cut down.’
The new day dawned cold and grey, though thankfully the forest canopy kept away the infernal drizzle that soaked everything. Conrad slept for perhaps three hours and woke cold and aching, having slept in the open under a blanket. He had been so moved by the plight of the young mothers with their infants that he had ordered all the tents they had brought to be put at their disposal. The mercenaries, who cared for little and certainly not the suffering of civilians, complained loudly until Conrad reminded them that he had been placed in command. They also grumbled when he ordered them to attend morning prayers with himself and the other brother knights, though they laughed at his expense when they heard his hesitant attempts at devotions.
Afterwards leather face came to him. ‘I see you are getting used to giving orders. The lads weren’t happy about giving up their tents.’