‘Not much of a Christian army, is it?’
‘It fights for God,’ said Conrad, ‘it does not matter what symbols men carry on their shields.’
‘They fight for
you
, Conrad,’ said Anton, sniffing the air as the pleasing aroma of the stew entered his nostrils.
‘What do you say, Kaja?’ asked Hans. ‘Does this army fight for the Christian God or for Brother Conrad?’
‘For
Susi
, of course,’ she replied.
‘Just think,’ continued Hans, ‘the Bishop of Riga has a pagan army under his command. I wonder what the Pope would say?’
‘And now a pagan army goes to rescue a Christian king who has got himself trapped on Oesel by pagans,’ complained Conrad. ‘It makes no sense.’
Kaja stirred the stew. ‘You would prefer that the king was killed by the Oeselians,
Susi
?’
‘I would,’ stated Conrad. ‘After all, Valdemar desired my death. It is only common courtesy that I should reciprocate the sentiment.’
He looked at the groups of warriors gathered round fires, eating and chatting, stacks of spears and shields nearby.
‘It grieves me that many of these men will die saving the neck of that wretched king.’
Hans laughed. ‘Who would have thought it, a beggar and a baker’s son from Lübeck having a say in the fate of a king?’
‘What about me?’ said Anton.
‘You don’t count,’ his friend told him, ‘on account of you being from a rich family.’
‘Hillar told me that the Danes have been hard on his people,’ remarked Anton. ‘There are many destroyed villages north of the Parnu River.’
Conrad nodded. ‘All the more reason to leave Valdemar to his fate.’
‘That is not very charitable,
Susi
,’ said Kaja, stirring the stew. ‘Father Otto says that we are all obligated to perform acts of charity if we want to enter heaven.’
Conrad looked at her and smiled. When he had first met her she had been a half-starved wretch who had lost all her family. But now she was known and respected throughout the Army of the Wolf as a good fighter and a lucky mascot. He glanced at the fine Danish sword in its scabbard strapped to her waist.
‘What else does he say?’ enquired Conrad.
She stopped stirring and looked at him with her piercing blue eyes.
‘That men are brothers and members of the same family.’
‘A splendid theory, I have to agree,’ said Anton.
‘The thing is, Kaja,’ said Hans, ‘you will find that there is a great difference between what men say and what they do.’
‘Even if they are priests, Brother Hans?’
Hans gave her an ironic smile. ‘Especially if they are priests.’
She looked at Conrad. ‘So you do not love the Danish king like a brother,
Susi
?’
‘No, Kaja.’
She started to ladle stew into wooden bowls as the brother knights sat on the ground near the fire. As usual Hans insisted on being served first on account that he was deprived of food as a child and had a lot of catching up to do. She too sat on the ground with a bowl after she had served them.
‘Clever how you employed Ilona to persuade Master Rudolf to let you come with us, Kaja,’ said Anton casually.
‘In truth it was easy,’ she said. ‘He did not need much persuading. I was delighted.’
‘I can imagine,’ muttered Conrad.
‘The master said that I was a lucky talisman,’ she continued, ‘and should carry the army’s banner. Master Rudolf is a kind-hearted man.’
They burst out laughing. Rudolf was many things: callous, brave, loyal and steadfast. But what he was not was kind hearted. Which made his not only agreeing to but encouraging Kaja to accompany the army north all the more baffling. It was most strange and made Conrad more anxious concerning the mission to Oesel. He was also burdened with the knowledge that Kaja and his brother Rameke were very fond of each other and had exchanged messages during the past eighteen months. Indeed he expected Rameke to make her his wife. If anything happened to her he would never forgive himself. Worse, Rameke would never forgive him.
Sir Richard arrived two days later at the head of over three hundred men, all mounted on either horses or ponies. As ever he was accompanied by the dour Squire Paul, whom Conrad reckoned the eldest squire in Christendom. The Duke of Saccalia rode at the head of forty heavily armed and armoured knights. Each man wore a full-face helm, mail armour and surcoat emblazoned with the coat of arms of their family. Some of the heavy horsemen had journeyed to Livonia with Sir Richard as squires but had been elevated by him to knightly status in a ceremony that was the same the length and breadth of Europe. After a mass the other knights fixed gilded spurs to the aspirant, who was given the belt that was an important emblem of knighthood. Then Sir Richard handed him a sword, kissed him and tapped him on the shoulder. It was a curious thing that despite the religious nature of knighthood, the rank was bestowed not by churchmen but by men who were knights and who had proved themselves in battle.
Sir Richard had made his home in Saccalia, as had those men who had elected to stay with him in the land of forests and lakes. But many among the forty squires who rode with him into camp were native Saccalians who had been baptized and were learning how to fight as ‘men of iron’, as the locals called the mounted Christian knights. Thus, slowly, did the notion of knighthood and the Christian faith spread throughout Saccalia.
Sir Richard also brought fifty lesser knights, men who had enough money to buy a horse and armour but not enough to purchase an expensive destrier. And certainly not enough to maintain a squire and servants. But like those original knights and squires that had accompanied Sir Richard they had elected to stay in Saccalia to make a new life for themselves.
Lastly the Duke of Saccalia brought two hundred Saccalian levies, young men drawn from the villages around Lehola who could ride and fight in a shield wall. Conrad was amazed to see that not only were they all riding hardy ponies but also that each man was equipped with a helmet, mail or lamellar armour – either leather or iron – and shield. Every man was also well equipped when it came to weapons, carrying one or two spears, a light hand axe, dagger and sword. Conrad had never seen native soldiers, either Livs or Estonians, so well-armed and armoured.
‘Lehola’s armoury is filled with the weapons and armour we took off the Cumans and Russians when you relieved the fortress,’ Sir Richard told Conrad as he chewed on a piece of over-cooked boar. ‘Not to mention the weapons the Danes left on the field when they fled back to Reval after hostilities broke out.’
The three Sword Brothers and the other leaders in the Army of the Wolf had been invited to dine with him and his commanders the first night they had arrived in camp. Sir Richard had been asked to travel light so as to reach Oesel quickly, but he and his knights had still loaded their pavilions on the backs of ponies. Indeed, there must have been at least a hundred of the beasts weighed down with food, tents, clothes, weapons and armour.
Squire Paul, his face a mask of indifference as usual, stood behind his lord and served him beer and food. Sir Richard spat out a mouthful of meat.
‘It’s like eating charcoal, Paul. Too long over a fire.’
‘Better than not cooked enough,’ sighed Paul. ‘At least you won’t be writhing around with gut rot tomorrow.’
Sir Richard rolled his eyes. ‘No, I will just be faint from starvation. Get me something I can eat, damn you.’
Paul exhaled loudly and sauntered from the tent.
‘Paul is still truculent, your grace?’ smiled Conrad.
‘Truculent? He gets worse by the year,’ complained Sir Richard. ‘I don’t know why I tolerate him.’
But Conrad knew that Paul was unfalteringly loyal to his lord, notwithstanding his sarcastic manner, and Sir Richard returned the sentiment. They were like an old married couple, thought Conrad.
‘So, we go to rescue King Valdemar from the pagans,’ said Sir Richard.
Conrad picked at the meat on the wooden plate in front of him.
‘So it would seem.’
‘You do not hold with Master Rudolf’s plan?’ the Duke of Saccalia probed.
Hans, who had finished his own plate of food, took a handful of Conrad’s.
‘Conrad believes that King Valdemar should be left to his fate on Oesel.’
Anton took a swig of beer. ‘As do I. Why should the Sword Brothers help one who despises them?’
Hillar, Andres, Tonis and Riki sitting alongside the three brother knights banged their fists on the planks that had been laid on trestles to indicate their support.
Sir Richard laughed as his commanders opposite did the same, raising their cups to the bearded warriors. They too had little inclination to save the Danish king. Paul returned with a fresh plate of food and placed it before his lord.
‘Perhaps,’ suggested Sir Richard, ‘Master Rudolf believes that if he saves Valdemar then the Danish king, out of gratitude, will stop throttling Livonia and will lift the blockade.’
Conrad batted Hans’ hand away when his friend tried to take more food from his plate.
‘Even if that is so, your grace, Valdemar will not relinquish Estonia and Estonia belongs to the Sword Brothers. It would be better if an Oeselian warrior throttles the Danish king and saves us a perilous journey.’
Hans and Anton beside their friend slapped him on the back and smiled. Squire Paul regarded Conrad for a few seconds. He leaned forward to whisper to his master.
‘The boy becomes the man. Valdemar may regret letting that one live.’
Sir Richard smiled as a squire placed more meat on the plates of the three Sword Brothers, who proceeded to devour the food like ravenous wolves, especially the lean Hans. The blue-grey eyes of
Susi
glinted with anticipation and menace.
‘He is like an angry wolf,’ Sir Richard replied.
‘Not sure I would like to be rescued by an army of angry wolves,’ said Paul.
‘Where is Peeter?’ asked Conrad, ‘I was sorry he did not accompany you.’
‘He is well,’ answered Sir Richard, ‘but I thought it advisable that he remain at Fellin to keep an eye on our eastern border.’
Pope Honorius himself had created Peeter, a Saccalian, Count of Fellin, upon condition that he accepted baptism. Thus it was that a former pagan warlord was now a Christian noble guarding the border with Ungannia.
‘What do you hear of Ungannia, your grace?’ enquired Conrad.
‘Kalju and Eha are well,’ Sir Richard replied, ‘and Ungannia is at peace and prospers. But I doubt that Kalju has forgiven Henke for the loss of his son.’
‘He is a wise leader,’ agreed Hans.
The next day Master Rudolf rode into camp accompanied by the masters of Segewold and Kremon. Behind them a long column of horses carried the brother knights of those two castles and Wenden, together with over a hundred sergeants, one hundred and thirty crossbowmen and packhorses carrying supplies, weapons and ammunition. All the sergeants carried crossbows in addition to their personal weapons, which meant that the newly assembled army could muster nearly two hundred and fifty missile troops in total. Conrad, having received a summons from Rudolf, walked over to the Sword Brother camp with Hillar as the garrisons pitched the chapel tent, those of the masters and then the rest in ever-expanding circles around them. Horses were tethered to fences fashioned from branches from felled trees and sheltered from the elements by canvas sheets spread over wooden frames. Very soon the daily rains turned the camp into a sea of mud.
‘You’ll dirty your nice white surcoat, Brother Conrad.’
The brother knight turned to see a grinning Leatherface in his customary ragged trousers and aged gambeson.
‘No such worry for you, my friend.’
Leatherface picked his way around pools of mud to get nearer.
‘You decided not to hire yourselves out to the Russians, then?’
Leatherface rubbed his grubby hands together. ‘Not with a new campaign rearing its head. I’ve heard that Oesel is full of wealth.’
Conrad continued to walk towards the tents of the masters.
‘Really?’ It was not what he had heard.
But Leatherface was most insistent. ‘Stands to reason, if you think about it. These Oeselians are descended from the Vikings. Am I right?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘The point is,’ Leatherface continued, ‘it’s well known that the Vikings plundered every land their longships landed on. And where did they take all that loot?’
Conrad stepped in a large puddle. ‘I have no idea.’
‘Oesel, of course. It must be dripping with gold. The lads are itching to get there.’
‘The Oeselians might object to you plundering their island.’
Leatherface cackled. ‘Master Rudolf is clever. He has left all the spearmen behind and armed his sergeants with crossbows to supplement my lads. Using your heathens for cover we will shoot the enemy to pieces. How’s my girl?’
‘I assume you are speaking of Kaja? She’s not your girl and you should not provoke her.’
Leatherface wore a look of innocence. ‘Provoke her? Me? When I retire and get my alehouse I’ll be looking for a woman with a pair of child-bearing hips to help me out. Women like a mature man with property.’