Rudolf spread his hands. ‘What do you want me to do, magic money out of nothing? Until the Danish blockade ends the order has no money to pay its mercenaries. It is the same for all the order’s garrisons.’
Leatherface shook his head. ‘I’m not an unreasonable man, Master Rudolf.’
‘That’s debateable,’ muttered Henke.
Leatherface shot the powerful brother knight a disparaging glance.
‘But,’ the mercenary continued, ‘if I and my boys aren’t paid then we will have to consider our options.’
‘What options?’ queried Henke derisively. ‘You can’t go to Riga because the city is under quarantine due to the pox. And even if you could there are no ships to take you to Germany on account of the Danish blockade.’
Leatherface smiled. ‘Who said anything about Germany, Brother Henke? There are others who would pay handsomely for our services, such as the Russians. And there’s always the Lithuanians south of the Dvina.’
Brother Walter, Rudolf’s deputy, was appalled. ‘You would offer your services to apostates and heathens?’
‘That’s the point of being a mercenary, Brother Walter,’ replied Leatherface, ‘we work for whoever is willing to pay us.’
Rudolf pointed at the mercenary. ‘I think you and your men should think carefully on your future actions. At Wenden you are fed, housed and issued with clothing and weapons, notwithstanding that some of you choose to dress like ruffians. The blockade will not last forever, but if you feel that you can no longer work for the Sword Brothers then I must ask you and your men to be gone by the end of the week.’
Leatherface’s eyes opened wide in alarm. ‘Well, there’s no need to be hasty, Master Rudolf. I’m not an unreasonable man. I’ll have a word with the lads. I’m sure I can calm their anxieties.’
‘Of that I have no doubt,’ replied Rudolf.
Leatherface nodded his head at the master, winked at Conrad and departed, shutting the door behind him.
‘Arrogant bastard,’ hissed Henke. ‘He should be flogged in front of his men as a warning of what happens when someone crosses the Sword Brothers.’
‘He and his men are good soldiers,’ said Conrad. ‘Good soldiers deserve fair treatment, not brutality.’
Henke laughed. ‘You’ve been spending too much time among your heathen friends,
brother
. The Sword Brothers cannot be held to ransom. It sets a bad precedent.’
Rudolf held up a hand. ‘No one is going to be flogged, Henke. Wenden’s mercenaries have been with us for years and have fought by our side on many occasions. If the price of retaining them is a verbal battering from their commander once a week then so be it. Let us hope that the Danish blockade ends speedily so we can all get back to normal.’
‘To which end, master,’ said Conrad, ‘there is someone waiting outside who brings welcome news.’
The brother knights looked at Conrad with eager faces. Any good news was welcome amidst the gloom that hung over Livonia.
‘Then being him in,’ ordered Rudolf.
Conrad went to the door, opened it and seconds later the huge frame of Hillar entered the hall. He was one of the commanders in Conrad’s Army of the Wolf that was made up of different contingents of Estonian tribal members. Hillar led the Rotalians. There were around three hundred of them deployed in the borderlands between Saccalia and Rotalia. Henke rolled his eyes but Rudolf rose and extended his arm to Hillar.
‘Welcome Hillar,’ he said in Estonian. ‘What brings you to Wenden?’
The Estonian gripped Rudolf’s forearm with a hand that was as wide as a bear’s paw. In contrast to the neatly cropped hair and beards of the brother knights, Hillar’s fair hair was long and unkempt.
‘I bring news of a Danish invasion of Oesel.’
Rudolf gestured for him to sit at the table, the Rotalian first unbuckling his sword belt as a sign of friendliness. He placed his sword on the floor beside him. Walter poured him a cup of wine and passed the vessel to him as everyone looked on with eager anticipation.
Hillar drained the cup in one gulp. ‘I have many scouts in Rotalia and they brought me news that the Danes marched from Reval and crossed the water to invade Oesel. Many ships sailed from Reval to transport the Danish king to the island.’
Henke was unimpressed. ‘It was only a matter of time before Valdemar decided to conquer Oesel. It does not help us.’
Conrad nodded at Hillar. ‘Tell them how the great King Valdemar fared on the island.’
Hillar reached over to grasp the wine jug and poured himself another drink.
‘When the Danes arrived on the island the first thing they did was to start building a fort.’
‘Sensible,’ said Lukas. ‘Oesel is a big island and any conqueror would need a base for operations.’
Hillar took a mouthful of wine. ‘Bad mistake. Olaf has the fort surrounded so the Danes cannot escape the island.’
‘The garrison of Reval will send ships to aid Valdemar,’ said Walter.
Hillar finished his wine. ‘The Oeselian fleet has Danish ships trapped in Reval’s harbour like sheep in a pen.’
Henke clapped his hands together. ‘Excellent. Valdemar will die and the blockade of Livonia will end.’
‘No, Henke,’ said Rudolf, ‘if Valdemar is killed then his son will become Danish king and the blockade will continue.’
Walter was most upset. ‘As Christian knights we should help Valdemar in his hour of trial.’
Henke was unimpressed. ‘Why should the Sword Brothers help the man who tried to have one of our own executed like a common criminal?’
Conrad smiled. ‘Brother Henke, I had not realised until this moment that you cared so much for me.’
Henke looked daggers at Conrad. ‘I don’t, I was just making a point.’
‘That’s enough,’ ordered Rudolf. ‘Hillar, what do your scouts tell you about the Danish fort on Oesel?’
‘The Danes spent a week landing supplies and building a stone fort just inland from the beach they landed on. A fort surrounded by a ditch and earth rampart.’
‘How many Danish soldiers landed on the island?’ asked Walter.
Hillar scratched his beard. ‘Two, three thousand, perhaps.’
‘I say let the bastard get killed or captured by the Oeselians,’ insisted Henke. ‘He’s no friend of the Sword Brothers.’
Walter’s face wore a deep frown but most of the brother knights were unconcerned. It was well known that Valdemar had denounced the order after the savaging it had given his army at Reval. If he died it was one less enemy for the Sword Brothers to worry about. But Rudolf was thinking ahead and sniffed an opportunity. He stood and began walking around the table, speaking to himself rather than anyone in particular.
‘Valdemar is besieged on Oesel, the Oeselians lie outside the harbour of Reval, thus making it impossible for the garrison to send ships and reinforcements to relieve their king.’
‘The Danes could march overland towards Oesel, Master Rudolf,’ offered Conrad, ‘though they would have to find boats to transport them to the island.’
Rudolf stopped and shook his head. ‘Just as Hillar has scouts in Rotalia I am sure the Oeselians have eyes watching Reval. If the garrison sent a relief party overland I am sure Olaf’s ships outside the harbour would assault Reval.’
‘Alas for Valdemar,’ said Henke, smirking.
‘The Oeselians will kill all the Danes eventually,’ stated Hillar without emotion.
‘Notwithstanding that he has declared himself an enemy of our order,’ remarked Walter, ‘the death of a king appointed by God is no cause for celebration.’
Conrad begged to differ but held his counsel. Perhaps God was punishing Valdemar for the injustices he had inflicted on Estonia and the blockade he had imposed on Livonia.
Rudolf returned to his chair and smashed his fist on the table, startling everyone.
‘Valdemar will not die on Oesel because the Sword Brothers are going to rescue him.’
Those around the table looked at each other in confusion, aside from Walter who was nodding piously.
‘It takes a noble nature to ignore the slights our order has endured at the hands of King Valdemar, master, and you have proved yourself a worthy knight of Christ.’
Lukas, who had known Rudolf for many years, since they had been part of the same mercenary band that had terrorised Germany, was more reflective.
‘Very noble, Rudolf. Too noble, in fact.’
‘Are you insane?’ was Henke’s only comment.
Rudolf ignored them and pointed at Conrad.
‘Muster your army at the Saccalian border, Conrad. We will meet you there once I have summoned the garrisons of Kremon and Segewold.’
‘Surely only the grand master can issue orders to summon a muster, master?’ said Walter, ever a stickler for protocol.
‘In normal circumstances you would be right, Walter,’ agreed Rudolf, ‘but these are not normal circumstances. Riga is cut off from the outside world until the pox is gone, and therefore no communication is possible with Grand Master Volquin. As deputy commander of the order I am using my authority to assist both the order and Bishop Albert.’
Normally courier pigeons flew between Riga and the order’s castles along the Dvina and Gauja. However, fear of infection had resulted in any form of communication between Riga and the outside world being prohibited.
‘Send riders to Kremon and Segewold,’ Rudolf told Lukas, ‘I will draw up orders for Master Bertram and Master Mathias. The meeting is over.’
The brother knights stood and bowed their heads as Rudolf walked from the hall to his private office at the rear of the main chamber.
Conrad walked with Hans, Anton and Hillar into Wenden’s great courtyard. It was the first time the Rotalian had seen the three brother knights in their non-martial apparel. The pagan was wearing leather boots, a thick leather cuirass and leather wristbands, with a sword and dagger strapped to his waist.
‘Are you and your knights being punished,
Susi
?’ he asked Conrad.
The name had been bestowed on Conrad because the Estonians who fought for him believed him to be the reincarnation of the ancient wolf spirit of the forest in human form.
‘No, why?’
‘Then why are you dressed like women?’
For the meeting all the brother knights wore long dark tunics reaching to the ankles, belted at the waist with tight-fitting sleeves. On their feet they wore plain shoes instead of boots and under their tunics woollen shirts and woollen breeches, as there was still a nip in the air. The only indications that they were members of the Sword Brothers were their mantles, lightweight white cloaks to signify purity, each bearing the symbol of the order on the left shoulder.
‘This is our attire when we are not wearing our armour,’ Hans told him.
‘Sitting in mail, gambesons and aketons for long periods indoors can be most uncomfortable,’ added Anton.
‘I must ask you to ride north immediately,’ Conrad said to Hillar. ‘Wait for me at the Pala. Inform Sir Richard, I am sure he will want to join us on our campaign.’
Anton screwed up his face. ‘It will take at least two weeks to reach Oesel. Valdemar might be dead by then.’
‘If he is, he is,’ replied Conrad. ‘But Master Rudolf is determined to attempt to save his hide.’
‘To what end?’ asked Hillar.
‘I have no idea,’ said Conrad.
They walked from the master’s hall across the cobbled courtyard towards the stables on the western side on the castle. Wenden had once been a pagan hill fort but had been captured from the Livs fourteen years before. Since that time a great building programme had been undertaken to turn the stronghold that sat atop an escarpment with sheer northern and western sides into a stone citadel. And now that work was all but complete. A host of workers had been brought from Germany during those years to build the stone castle, now the strongest in all Livonia. Along the eastern wall were sited the chapel, master’s hall, dining hall, armoury and smithy. Opposite was the longer western wall; for Wenden was an irregular-shaped castle to fit the escarpment. There were but two buildings along this wall: the two-storey dormitory where the brother knights and sergeants were accommodated and the expansive stables block. The destriers, palfreys, packhorses and mules all had to be sheltered from the elements, especially the prized, pampered destriers that were treated better than the brother knights.
A small army of servants, stable hands and blacksmiths worked in the castle, many of them either living within the castle’s outer perimeter defences immediately south of the massive gatehouse, or in the steadily growing village below the castle’s northern ramparts. When Conrad had first come to Wenden ten years before there had been no village and the land around the castle was largely dense forest. But now many of the trees near the castle had been felled to provide material for the outer perimeter wall. Huts and buildings filled the area inside it and the village that had sprung up on the opposite side of the escarpment. It too had a wooden wall for it was not so long ago that it had been burnt to the ground during a Cuman attack.
Hillar’s horse was tethered to one of the rails outside the stable block but Conrad, Hans and Anton went inside the wooden office sited outside the block. There an officious individual with a pointed nose sat at a sloping desk equipped with inkhorns examining a parchment made from goatskin. It was unfortunate that as Wenden grew in size and importance so the number of officials employed there increased. They were all under the control of Master Thaddeus, the white-haired quartermaster general of Livonia who was now in his early seventies.