by Peter Darman
He increased his pace slightly as the dawn came and the light improved, though the grey mist seemed thicker than before. He kept his eyes on leather face holding his crossbow at waist height. It was as if they were in an endless expanse of wet gloom that had no beginning and no end as they walked forward but seemingly made no progress. As he continued to advance Conrad was filled with doubt. It was madness to attack an enemy camp with insufficient numbers. Worse, he was leading a force composed largely of old men and boys who would likely be slaughtered by Cuman arrows before they even caught sight of Lehola. His plan was no plan at all, just the foolish imaginings of a young man promoted beyond his abilities. He should turn back now before he led dozens to their deaths. He was just about to signal his comrades to stop when he heard a succession of loud thwacks in front of him, followed by groans and a scream. It was too late: the die was cast.
He shoved up his helm. ‘God with us!’ he shouted at the top of his voice before pulling the helmet down and racing forward. His cry was answered by the war cries of over two hundred warriors as the Estonians charged through the mist.
Conrad ran past leather face and between two four-wheeled wagons, jumping over a guard with a crossbow bolt in his belly. He came to what appeared to be a large round tent stretched over a wooden frame. The hide that covered the entrance was swept aside and men poured out, none wearing armour and all bare headed. They carried broad, curved swords and were attired in yellow and red knee-length tunics and baggy leggings. Conrad thrust his sword into the belly of the leading Cuman and caught the blade of the man behind on his shield before powering his sword forward into the owner’s throat. The man groaned and dropped his weapon, blood gushing from the wound as his comrades charged at Conrad. But dozens of Estonians were entering the camp like floodwater and the enemy were skewered and killed by a dozen spears.
Conrad moved on towards the centre of the camp as the occupants of tents emerged into the mist-filled morning to be cut down by axes and spears. Where there had been quiet there was now a great tumult as the Estonians vented their fury on the invaders of their land. A warrior beside Conrad collapsed after being hit by an arrow shot by a Cuman standing outside a tent. As he nocked another arrow a Saccalian split his skull with an axe and then killed another archer who ran from the tent.
The killing went on, the Cumans being taken totally by surprise and unable to organise a response. Conrad and the other Sword Brothers ran past frightened horses that had broken free from their tethers, moving across a ground littered with Cuman dead. Some of the tents were on fire now, the smoke mixing with the mist to further limit visibility. They stopped when they came across a wall of enemy warriors, in the centre of which was a tall individual with a long moustache who was screaming in a language Conrad did not understand. But he understood that this individual dressed in lamellar armour was some sort of leader because men were flocking to his side as his bellowing voice cut through the morning air.
Conrad lifted his helmet. ‘Kill that one.’
They were four against perhaps thirty or more but they stood shoulder-to-shoulder and headed straight for the enemy leader. He saw them and drew his sword as a dozen of his men suddenly pitched forward onto the ground. Conrad saw leather face, who nodded at him, and then he and the others charged. The leader came at Conrad, the brother knight parrying the blow with his shield before cutting down to slice open the man’s left calf. The Cuman winced in pain but thrust the point of his sword forward in an effort to strike Conrad in the chest, who again deflected the blow with his shield. He was about to ram one end of his sword’s cross-guard into the Cuman’s face when he saw his opponent’s mouth open in surprise. He stepped back and saw the blade of a spear lodged in the man’s belly, a great red stain around the entry point. The warrior yanked back the spear and the Cuman dropped to his knees, a pitiful look in his eyes. Conrad heard a high-pitched squeal of delight and turned to see a pair of blue eyes looking at him either side of a helmet’s nasal guard.
‘I kept up with you, Susi,’ said the girl.
More Saccalians rushed forward to assist his three comrades who were in truth more than holding their own against the unarmoured Cumans.
‘Get behind me,’ Conrad shouted at the girl who was grinning at him.
He used his shield to marshal her behind him.
‘Stay close,’ he barked at her.
He moved around a tent and caught sight of a group of horsemen to his right. One saw him and raised his bow to loose an arrow. He caught the missile on his shield and then they were gone. The mist was beginning to lift now and he saw a pale sun sitting low in the sky directly ahead.
‘Follow me,’ he said to the girl as he swung left and headed north, towards the fort.
The other brother knights and crossbowmen were with him as he stalked forward, the timber walls of Lehola now just visible in the morning mist. Cumans were fleeing before them, others trying to make a stand but being cut down by crossbow bolts. He heard horn blasts and saw the shield of Tonis with its wolf insignia in the centre of a great formation of warriors that was shuffling forward as the Cumans retreated before it. Conrad lifted his helmet.
‘Shift left, shift left.’
Hans, Anton and Johann raised their swords to indicate they understood and then moved to join the right flank of the Estonian shield wall. Leather face whistled to his men and the crossbowmen shifted to take up position to the left of the brother knights. The raiders were at the northern edge of the Cuman camp now and there were fresh horn blasts as Tonis called a halt to reorganise his men. Conrad took off his helmet and gave it to the girl who stood behind him.
‘Hold this while I consult with your leader.’
‘Yes, Susi,’ she replied.
Many of the strange Cuman tents were on fire now, as were the wagons that littered the camp, smoke billowing into the now thinning mist. Conrad ran over to where Tonis stood conversing with his commanders. He nodded to the brother knight.
‘Where is Peeter?’ asked Conrad
Tonis shrugged. ‘We became separated in the initial attack.’
There was a succession of screams in front of them as the crossbowmen cut down half a dozen Cumans in bright blue tunics with a volley. Two continued to twitch on the ground after they had fallen. Horns sounded to the west.
‘That must be Peeter,’ said Tonis.
But he was wrong and soon a great number of Cumans began to appear between the Estonians and the fort, at least two hundred of them in a long line, all wearing topcoats, boots and many wearing pointed helmets and metal masks that resembled faces. Their commanders barked orders and within seconds every man in the front rank was nocking an arrow in his bowstring.
‘Shields, shields,’ screamed Tonis as Conrad raced back to retrieve his helmet.
‘Arrows, take cover,’ he shouted.
He looked at leather face and realised with horror that he and his men had no shields to hide beneath. They may have been aged or young but the Estonians knew well enough what was about to happen as they knelt and took cover behind their shields. Hans, Johann and Anton did the same but Conrad just stood there, looking at leather face who had a resigned look on his face. He had known the mercenary ever since he had been a novice and had grown very fond of him, despite his irreverent attitude to everyone and everything. But now he was going to be cut down by enemy arrows and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
The fort stood a mere two hundred paces in front of them, its great timber walls and towers rising up behind the Cumans who as one raised their bows to unleash an arrow storm against Conrad’s relief force.
And stopped as the gates of the fort opened and Sir Richard and his men poured from Lehola shouting war cries. The crusaders and Estonians were a disorganised, feral mass as they ran at the Cumans who turned and saw with horror that they were going to be engulfed by a horde of men wielding swords, axes, maces and spears. The garrison seemed to be flying such was the speed with which they covered the ground b
etween the gates and the Cumans. There was a sharp crack as the two groups collided and then the Cumans literally disappeared as they were hacked, stabbed and crushed underfoot by the garrison.
Tonis and his men jumped up and cheered as the Cuman line vanished before their eyes. Conrad pulled off his helmet and pointed his sword at leather face. The latter came trotting over as his men breathed a huge sigh of relief. Conrad embraced him.
‘I must be the luckiest bastard in Christendom,’ he grinned.
‘You and your men should get yourselves equipped with shields,’ Conrad told him.
Leather face shook his head. ‘I’m too old to be lugging around more equipment.’
The girl behind Conrad suddenly pushed her way past them. He grabbed her hair tied in a ponytail that hung down her back.
‘Where are you going?’
The girl spun round in anger. ‘To kill the enemy, let go of my hair.’
Her oversized helmet fell off her head and tumbled to the ground.
‘No, you will obey orders and stay here.’
Leather face’s eyes lit up as he looked her shapely figure up and down. ‘Your personal squire, Brother Conrad?’
‘Hardly, more like my personal pest,’ said Conrad.
There was a great cheer and they turned to see a tall knight in helm and mail armour standing among a heap of enemy dead, sword and shield raised in triumph as his men cheered their victory. The four brother knights embraced as the English knight walked towards them, first thanking Tonis for bringing a relief force.
‘Take your men and scour the camp,’ Conrad said to leather face, ‘kill any Cumans you find.’
The girl picked up her helmet and put it back on her head. ‘I will assist you.’
‘You will stay here,’ Conrad told her.
‘We’ll take care of her,’ said leather face, leering at the girl.
‘I think it is best if she stays her,’ replied Conrad. ‘Take some Estonian warriors, though.’
Leather face barked an order to his men and then detailed a score of Estonians to accompany him as they went in search of enemy stragglers.
‘And collect any horses you come across,’ Conrad shouted to him.
He was relieved to see a helmetless Peeter being assisted across the corpse-strewn ground by two of his men. He was limping badly and his right leg was bleeding but at least he was still alive.
‘Conrad Wolff.’
Conrad turned to see the tall and imposing Sir Richard Bruffingham before him, helmet in hand. He wore a mail coif that covered his bald head shaven as an act of penitence before coming on crusade in Livonia.
Conrad bowed his head to him. ‘Your servant, lord.’
Sir Richard slapped him hard on the arm. ‘No, I am in your debt for coming to my aid.’
He nodded to Hans, Johann and Anton. ‘Where is Master Rudolf?’
‘At Wenden lord,’ replied Conrad. ‘We are the only ones he could spare.’
‘Four brother knights?’ he said in surprise.
‘And a few ponies loaded with weapons that we used to arm those men you see before you.’
The girl behind Conrad removed her helmet.
‘Our cause must be perilous indeed if you had to recruit women to your army.’
‘The main Cuman army attacked Wenden but were repulsed,’ said Conrad. ‘They moved west. Hopefully the grand master has mustered an army of the order’s soldiers and destroyed them.’
A burly man shorter than Sir Richard but more broad shouldered raised his mace to Conrad. Squire Paul had accompanied Sir Richard from England, the lord having persuaded him to give up his trade as an executioner and serve him on crusade. Though probably the oldest squire in Livonia he acted as Sir Richard’s de facto second-in-command.
‘We should get a party of horsemen to Fellin, lord.’
‘You are quite right, Paul. See to it, would you.’
The English lord looked at Conrad. ‘Better get your men, and women, inside the fort so the wounded can be seen to.’
The attack had cost the lives of thirty Saccalians and sixteen Jerwen, with a further score of the former and five of the latter being wounded. The Rotalians suffered no casualties and neither did Wenden’s crossbowmen, though had not Sir Richard sallied from the fort when he did Conrad had no doubt that all of them would have been killed.
Leather face shrugged and stuffed some more roasted pork in his mouth. ‘That’s the lot of mercenaries, Brother Conrad. Life and death are close companions in my trade.’
After the fight in the camp the relief force had been accommodated in the huts inside Lehola. The latter was the greatest stronghold in southern Estonia, its outer walls four hundred yards long and two hundred yards wide. There were thirteen towers along its outer perimeter and a further four at each corner of the inner stronghold that housed the great hall in which Conrad and leather face now sat. It could reputedly feast up to five hundred men and there appeared to be close to that number sitting on benches around tables, many eating their first cooked meal in days. Hans was shovelling hot broth from a wooden bowl into his mouth as though he was competing to become the fastest eater in the hall, a contest he was winning hands down.
The girl who had earlier worn a helmet and carried a spear appeared at Conrad’s right shoulder.
‘More beer, Susi?’
He looked up and she gave him a beautiful smile. He held up his wooden cup.
‘Thank you.’
She poured beer into it from a jug, leaning in close to him.
‘Is there anything else you desire, Susi?’ she purred.
Conrad blushed with embarrassment. ‘No, thank you.’
Leather face belched and held up his cup to her. ‘I’ll have some more, young maiden.’
She scowled at the haggard mercenary but refreshed his cup and then skipped away.
‘You could claim her tonight, Brother Conrad. I won’t say anything to Master Rudolf.’
Conrad was appalled. ‘I have taken an oath of chastity.’
‘Oaths can be broken,’ replied leather face. ‘Besides I’m sure God will forgive you, what with saving the bishop’s life and killing Lembit and all. And now having relieved Lehola.’
‘I will not break my oath,’ insisted Conrad.
‘Just think,’ said leather face, ‘Lembit himself sat in this hall and feasted his warriors and now here we are, living like lords in his former fort. Seems odd.’
Conrad looked at the carvings of wolf heads in the thick oak pillars around the hall, the wolf shields hanging on the wall and the great banner bearing a Christian cross suspended behind the throne where Lembit had formally sat.
‘Yes, very odd.’
The main compound of Lehola was filled with huts, stables, storerooms and a blacksmith’s forge, while the inner stronghold contained the main hall, more huts and storerooms and the armoury. That night most of the relief force slept in the huts inside the main compound, though Conrad and the other brother knights were housed in a hut in the inner stronghold. Though the fort was large it was filled with the inhabitants of the nearest Saccalian villages who had managed to seek the sanctuary of Lehola before the Cumans had arrived.
‘Those further than a day’s march away were not so fortunate,’ said Sir Richard as slaves served breakfast in the now largely empty feasting hall.
Conrad sat at a large oak table arranged on trestles near Lembit’s throne in the company of Hans, Anton, Johann, Tonis and Peeter, who had a heavily bandaged leg. Squire Paul had left the day before with a hundred horsemen to lift the siege of Fellin, located around ten miles to the south.
‘Those in the fort cannot return to their homes until all the invaders have left Saccalia,’ continued Sir Richard.
‘Those we left behind in the forest should be brought here, lord,’ said Conrad, ‘the nights are getting longer and cooler.’
Sir Richard nodded. ‘Tonis, you will ride there today and bring them in. It is fortunate that the food stores of the fort
are well stocked but we will still have to slaughter some of the horses we captured from the enemy to feed our ever-growing garrison.’
‘We will leave as soon as we can, lord,’ said Conrad, ‘to alleviate your situation.’
Sir Richard laughed. ‘A score or more less mouths will hardly make a difference one way or another, Conrad.’
‘How many men do you command, lord?’ he asked Sir Richard, whose bald head and clean-shaven face was a stark contrast to the thick beards of the Saccalians and the neatly trimmed facial hair of the Sword Brothers.
‘I have just over eighty of my own men, a hundred wolf shields and seventy-five farmers from the local villagers who can use a spear and axe. There are another fifty wolf shields at Fellin, if they still live.’
Conrad thought for a moment. ‘How far is Odenpah from here?’
Anton looked at him ‘Odenpah?’
Sir Richard looked at Tonis.
‘A week’s ride, maybe less,’ said the Saccalian.
‘Perhaps I might borrow some of the horses that we took from the Cumans yesterday, lord.’
‘To what end?’ enquired Johann.
‘To reassure Kalju that the Sword Brothers have not abandoned him or his kingdom,’ answered Conrad.
Sir Richard shrugged. ‘Take as many as you need, though I would accompany you.’
‘You, my lord?’ said Conrad with surprise.
‘I’ve been cooped up in this place long enough and I remember Kalju and his wife. They were amiable enough and it seems wrong not to aid an ally.’
But before the expedition to Odenpah could be organised more pressing matters had to be attended to. Those who had been left behind in the forest were brought into Lehola, along with the ponies and supplies. Squire Paul returned from Fellin to report that the Cumans who had been besieging the fort had disappeared before his arrival.
‘The horsemen I saw riding south on the day we attacked the camp must have alerted them,’ said Conrad when Sir Richard’s squire reported to his master.