Army of the Wolf

by Peter Darman

  The warriors chatted loudly and the atmosphere in the hall was pleasant and relaxed, until a slave spilt some of the beer she was pouring into Kristjan’s cup on his sleeve. He immediately jumped up and struck the girl across the face with the back of his hand, sending her sprawling to the floor and smashing the jug she was holding.

  ‘Idiot!’ he bellowed.

  Everyone stopped talking and looked at him. He was only fourteen but he stood tall and his young body already had broad shoulders and a powerful chest. He caught the disapproving eye of Conrad.

  ‘You disapprove of my actions, Sword Brother?’ he sneered.

  ‘It is not my place to approve or disapprove of what you do in your father’s hall,’ replied Conrad calmly.

  Kristjan snapped his fingers and pointed at two guards standing by the closed doors to the hall.

  ‘You two, take this whore outside and have her flogged.’

  The slave, who was desperately trying to pick up the shattered pieces of pottery, began to whimper in fear as the two guards approached her. Kalju said nothing as he leaned back to observe his son and the Sword Brothers. Hans continued eating and Anton drank his honey mead. The fate of a slave meant nothing to them but Conrad was not of the same opinion.

  ‘Who will serve me drink if you have her flogged?’

  ‘We have plenty of other slaves,’ sniffed the chief’s son.

  ‘I like her,’ said Conrad.

  Kalju still said nothing but Eha turned to her son to speak but the chief raised his hand to still her.

  Kristjan’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Conrad coolly. ‘She can still lay with you tonight with a few cuts on her back, Sword Brother.’

  The two guards seized the girl by the arms and she squealed as they picked her up. Conrad stood.

  ‘I cannot allow her to be flogged.’

  Hans stopped eating and Anton put down his cup as they stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘You cannot allow?’ said Kristjan in mockery. ‘Do you presume to give me orders, Sword Brother? I, the son and heir of Kalju, Lord of Ungannia?’

  His face was flushed and his eyes were wide. Clearly he had had too much drink.

  ‘I am not giving you orders, young lord. I am merely obeying the oath that I swore when I joined my order. I am oath-bound to give aid and comfort to those who are persecuted, the sick and the poor. I can no more ignore the rules of the Order of the Sword Brothers than you can rise above the base instincts that enslave you.’

  Kristjan laughed and drained his cup of mead. ‘What base instincts?’

  ‘Cruelty and rashness,’ answered Conrad, ‘allied to immaturity. You wish to be a great warlord like your father, a man whose name inspires fear and respect throughout Estonian and Livonia. What would you be, Kristjan, son of Kalju, a great warlord or a beater of slave women?’

  Kristjan looked at the faces of his father’s warriors and the knights who were staring at him.

  ‘You would forfeit your life for a slave?’ said Kristjan in disbelief.

  ‘For a slave and for a vow I took,’ replied Conrad, ‘though I would pray for eternal damnation for abusing the hospitality of your parents whom I honour and revere with all my heart.’

  Kalju’s warriors began banging the hilts of their daggers on the table at these words, as did Sir Richard and his knights. Kristjan looked most uncomfortable as the men showed their admiration for Conrad’s words and looked pleadingly at his father. Kalju held up a hand and the noise stopped. He pointed at the slave girl.

  ‘Release her.’

  Kristjan was confused. ‘Father?’

  ‘Sit down, Kristjan, we have heard enough of your voice for one evening.’

  Blushing, the boy retook his seat as Conrad did the same and the chatter returned to the hall as warriors and knights called for their cups to be filled.

  ‘Your tongue is as sharp as your sword, Conrad,’ said Kalju, ‘though perhaps you might like to enlighten me on the purpose of your visit to Odenpah.’

  ‘The bishop is leading an army north, lord.’

  Kalju broke off a piece of rye bread and began chewing it. ‘I know this.’

  ‘Master Rudolf believes that if Ungannia showed its support for Riga then the Danish king will be convinced to cede most of Estonia to the Bishop of Riga.’

  ‘This is the same Danish king that you fought at the Pala?’

  Conrad nodded. ‘Yes, lord.’

  Kalju tore off another chunk of bread. ‘And who was responsible for Johann’s death?’

  Conrad nodded again.

  ‘Then all three of you have unfinished business with him and I wish you well. But the affairs of the Sword Brothers do not concern Ungannia. If the Danes invade my country then I will fight them but not before.’

  ‘If the Danes prevail, lord,’ said Conrad, ‘then Ungannia will be imperilled.’

  ‘If that happens then I hope that my allies, the Sword Brothers, will come to my aid.’

  ‘We will come, lord,’ announced Hans, ‘just as we did four years ago.’

  ‘We hope to overawe the Danes with a display of strength, lord,’ persisted Conrad. ‘And if Ungannia’s warriors were added to our numbers then I am sure we will succeed.’

  Kalju banged his fist on the table, causing his daughters to jump. ‘No, Conrad! You will not embroil my kingdom in another war. The last time the Sword Brothers did that the loss was too great.’

  Eha smiled sadly and placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

  ‘Too great,’ muttered Kalju.

  He drew himself up and looked at Conrad. ‘That is my final word on the matter.’

  ‘The ‘rock’ had spoken and like his namesake could not be shifted from his position.

  The next day the Sword Brothers and Sir Richard left the fort. Kalju and Eha were fulsome in their embraces and sincerity and for his part Conrad assured them that he would never abandon Ungannia. When Kalju asked if he needed anything Conrad asked that the female slave who had poured beer over Kristjan’s arm be allowed to be his own slave. Kalju was initially taken aback but shrugged and ordered that the girl be brought from the kitchens. Conrad had noticed that Kalju’ son had made himself scarce and he feared that he might take retribution against her after he had departed. So she was brought bare foot to them and instructed to sit on a pony. He then told Kaja to take care of her on their journey back to the Pala.

  ‘You did your best.’

  Conrad sat dejectedly in Sir Richard’s pavilion after they had ridden back to the Pala following their unsuccessful mission to Odenpah. Rudolf patted him on the shoulder as he walked to the entrance of the tent and looked out across the meadow towards the now shallow river.

  ‘We will still have just over a thousand men to take across the Pala,’ he said, ‘big enough for a vanguard.’

  ‘We will move across the Pala soon.’

  Though much sooner than Rudolf had anticipated as Conrad requested his presence in the Estonian camp when the scouts that Andres had despatched into Jerwen returned with grim news. Rudolf and Walter had arrived as the warriors were cooking evening meals, the smell of stew and cooking fish hanging in the still summer air. Conrad shared a small tent with Hans and Anton, which meant there was no room inside it to hold a meeting. So the three brother nights were standing round the campfire with Andres, Hillar and Tonis when Rudolf and Walter arrived. When they had dismounted two guards took their horses to the nearest stabling area and the slave that Conrad had brought back from Odenpah offered them drinks. She was a shy, nervous girl of around sixteen summers, though no one knew for sure as she had been captured during a raid on a Russian village situated near the eastern shore of Lake Peipus. She spoke little Estonian but understood well enough that Conrad had saved her from a flogging at least, at perhaps worse. She bowed and smiled at him whenever she was near him.

  She now offered Rudolf a cup of the mead that had been brought from Lehola on the orders of Sir Richard, who also arrived with squire Paul. Walter smiled ki
ndly at her as she offered him a full cup but she avoided his gaze and retreated quickly from his presence.

  ‘A strange creature,’ remarked Walter.

  ‘A slave that I brought back from Odenpah,’ said Conrad.

  ‘She got on the wrong side of Kalju’s son,’ added Hans, ‘so Conrad rescued her.’

  ‘Very noble,’ said Walter approvingly.

  ‘And what are you going to do with her?’ asked Rudolf. ‘The order does not approve of slavery or the keeping of slaves.’

  Though it does take a more lenient approach to slave trading, thought Conrad, though he did not mention Wenden’s part in slave trading when he had been but a novice.

  Conrad looked at Sir Richard. ‘I was hoping that perhaps you could find a place for her at Lehola until I return from Jerwen, your grace.’

  Paul grinned impishly. ‘I could always make a place for her in my bed.’

  Sir Richard frowned at his squire. ‘You will keep your mauling hands to yourself otherwise I’ll cut them off myself. I will entrust your slave to Peeter. She will be safe, that I promise.’

  ‘I am grateful, your grace,’ said Conrad.

  ‘Well,’ said Rudolf, ‘interesting though the saving of a slave is, I assume that was not the reason you asked us here, Conrad.’

  Conrad nodded at Andres who turned and pointed to a man with long hair and a bushy beard wearing baggy leggings and a brown tunic. He walked forward and bowed his head to Conrad.

  ‘Tell these knights what you told me.’

  ‘The Oeselians are burning and looting Jerwen.’

  Rudolf looked at Sir Richard with concern.

  ‘The Oeselians, are you certain?’

  The man smiled knowingly. ‘I have seen Oeselian shields before, lord.’

  ‘Where are they?’ said Rudolf.

  ‘Moving east. Around three days’ march from here.’

  Rudolf shrugged. ‘They will leave when they have sated their desire for plunder. Our grievance is with the Danes.’

  The scout looked angrily at Andres. It was their land that the Oeselians were laying waste to and there were five hundred Jerwen warriors under Conrad’s command.

  ‘We cannot leave the Oeselians to destroy Jerwen, master,’ said Conrad. ‘My title is Marshal of Estonia and that makes me responsible for all its kingdoms.’

  He looked at Hillar. ‘I know that the Oeselians have been most cruel in Rotalia and in all conscience I cannot stand by and watch them kill the relatives and loved ones of those in this army. I will take my men across the Pala tomorrow.’

  ‘Strategically it would be a mistake,’ said Rudolf. ‘It would serve our purpose better if the Danes and Oeselians fought each other so we can benefit from their mutual weakening of each other.’

  He looked at the scout. ‘What have you heard of the Danes?’

  ‘The rumour is that they hide behind their walls at Lyndanise,’ replied the scout.

  ‘It does not matter,’ said Conrad. ‘I will still march tomorrow. If the Danes offer battle then I will fight them as well.’

  The fire crackled and spat as Rudolf and Sir Richard considered his words. Andres and Hillar exchanged slaps on the arm, delighted that the liberation of their homelands appeared to be at hand. Hans and Anton exchanged more serious glances for though Rudolf had assigned them both to serve under Conrad, they held no ranks other than brother knights and Rudolf could insist that they remain behind with him at the Pala.

  Wenden’s castellan chuckled to himself. ‘Well, lord marshal, as it would appear that you are fixed upon crossing the Pala, I and the garrison of Wenden will be accompanying you.’

  Anton and Hans could barely disguise their joy and grinned at each other like simple-minded fools.

  ‘As will I,’ announced Sir Richard, ‘it would be unseemly if Conrad grabbed all the glory.’

  Andres sent his scouts back across the Pala before dawn with orders to determine the exact position of the Oeselians. He also despatched a second party of a dozen riders directly north to keep watch on the Danes, all of them men whose homes were in northern Jerwen near the border with Harrien. The main force crossed the river three hours later: over a thousand men on horses and ponies pulling nearly the same number of draught horses and small, two-wheeled carts loaded with supplies, spare weapons and ammunition for leather face’s crossbowmen. Wenden’s novices held the reins of the garrison’s expensive warhorses while the brother knights rode their palfreys. Andres and his Jerwen rode in the van and provided flank guards, Conrad, Hans and Anton riding ahead with Andres and half a dozen of his warriors. The Russian slave had been left with Peeter who had ridden to the Pala to see off Sir Richard and Tonis, the latter being given command of the detachment of Lehola’s wolf shields to add to the thirty that had accompanied him since he had first joined Conrad. Kaja had insisted on staying with the army but rode with Tonis and Hillar and their warriors.

  It was the first time that the Sword Brothers had journeyed far into Jerwen, a land of boggy plains, rolling hills, steep mounds of sand and gravel called kames, and great expanses of spruce and pine forests. Andres was delighted to be back in his homeland and was eager to impart detailed information about the kingdom.

  ‘The main territorial body in our society, Susi, is the village. A number of which are grouped into parishes. In times of war parishes band together to form counties to resist invaders.’

  ‘Do all villages have hill forts?’ asked Hans.

  Andres shook his head. ‘There are dozens of villages in Jerwen, Brother Hans, many too small and poor to build their own fort. So in times of danger the inhabitants flee into the forest.’

  ‘Let us hope that the inhabitants of that village did so,’ remarked Anton, pointing to the north where a column of smoke was rising into the sky.

  They were riding across a meadow between a crystal-clear lake and a forest of spruce, numerous grass mounds at the far end of it. Conrad estimated that the smoke was around a mile away.

  ‘We should get back to the army and return with reinforcements,’ urged Anton, ever the voice of reason.

  ‘We should,’ said Conrad, ‘but by then it might be too late.’

  He removed his shield strapped to his back and shoved his left arm through the straps on its inside. Hans did the same.

  ‘The whole of the Oeselian army might be beyond those hillocks,’ warned Anton.

  Conrad smiled at him. ‘Then tonight we will be dining in the company of Bruno and Johann.’

  ‘We are with you, Susi,’ said Andres.

  He drew his sword but left his shield dangling from his saddle. Like Oeselian and Liv shields it was held via a grip behind the conical iron boss, and so a rider could not hold his reins at the same time as holding it and a weapon with the right hand. Conrad had heard tales of pagan chiefs riding into battle with reins gripped in their teeth but no Estonian or Liv he had spoken to had ever seen such a thing.

  They broke into a canter and headed towards the smoke that was billowing into the cloudless sky. They rounded the hillocks and rode between thickets of alder, the ground soft beneath the hooves of their mounts as the track took them by the lake’s edge. The ground became drier as they left the lake and entered a wood of pines, and first heard screams and wails ahead.

  Through the vision slits of his helmet Conrad saw red flashes among the trees and then heard the roaring of flames as the horsemen exited the wood and rode into a golden field of ripened barley. In a month it would be ready for harvesting but this crop would not be scythed. The villagers whose land this was were being herded away by warriors on horseback. There were around ten of them, wielding their spears to prod women clutching wailing children and holding infants in their arms, and using the blunt ends of their shafts to strike elderly couples holding on to each other. Conrad could see no men of fighting age among the captives. Most likely they had already been slaughtered. Men and teenage boys were too troublesome as captives: they often tried to escape or fomented trouble. Far better
to kill them outright.

  Hans and Anton moved either side of him as they broke into a canter, lances levelled and couched under their arms. All the huts, barns and storehouses in the village were now on fire, huge columns of black smoke pumping into the sky as flames consumed the dry timbers. The villagers now began screaming and wailing more loudly as they spotted fresh horsemen coming across the field of barley, probably thinking they were additional Oeselians come to kill them. The commander of the raiders also saw them and began shouting orders at his men who were strung out along the column of captives, acting as herders.

  Oeselian inland raids were very similar to their maritime incursions. Warriors moved fast, either in longships or on ponies, from place to place, capturing slaves, gold, silver and any other valuables, before disappearing back to their bases. They relied on speed and surprise to achieve success and reduce the likelihood of being caught. But these Oeselians had been surprised themselves and now had to fight. Their favoured tactic would have been to dismount and form a shield wall, but there were too few of them and the Sword Brothers were in among them before they had a chance to react.

  Anton was on the right of Conrad and he speared the first enemy rider at the rear of the captives, who had first wheeled his pony around to face the white-clad knights but had then changed his mind and decided to flee when they approached him in line with their lances levelled. He frantically tugged on his reins but his beast reared up and nearly threw him. It would have been better for him if it had for as the pony’s front feet came down Anton drove the point of his lance through his side, releasing the shaft as it embedded itself in the Oeselian’s guts.

  Conrad and Hans wheeled right to attack three enemy riders that had come to the aid of their now dead comrade. The Oeselians were armed with thrusting spears that did not have the reach of the longer lances of the Sword Brothers. The latter were able to skewer their opponents with relative ease, driving the points through the Oeselian shields and into the men’s torsos. Conrad pulled his axe from its case on his saddle and Hans gripped his mace as they prepared to battle the third enemy. And then the captives panicked and scattered.