Army of the Wolf (20 page)

‘We strike camp tomorrow,’ Conrad announced. ‘We should be able to reach Odenpah in three days, God willing.’

‘Let us hope that Kalju still resists the enemy,’ remarked Johann.

‘If the fort has fallen then we will have to return to Lehola,’ said Sir Richard. ‘We have neither the supplies nor the clothing to conduct a winter campaign.’

The flap of the pavilion opened and a guard entered. He saluted Sir Richard.

‘There is a girl and an old man outside, my lord. They want to see
Susi
.’

Sir Richard looked perplexed. ‘Who?’

‘They wish to see me, lord,’ said Conrad.

‘It is the nicknamed the Estonians have bestowed upon Conrad,’ said Hans.

‘Very well,’ Sir Richard said to the guard, ‘show them in.’

Conrad recognised the man with Kaja as one of the fishermen who had supplied him and his friends with food the night before.

Kaja looked at the fisherman. ‘Tell
Susi
what you told me.’

The man appeared nervous as everyone looked at him. He swallowed.

‘Begging pardon, lords, but when I was out on the water earlier I was told of a great army camped to the south of the lake. We fishermen talk, you see.’

Conrad held up a hand to silence him. ‘What army?’

The fisherman shrugged. ‘I know not, lord. I was told that there were hundreds of brightly coloured tents spread over a great area and thousands of horses all roped together.’

‘Perhaps it is Grand Master Volquin and the soldiers of our order,’ said Johann.

‘Sounds too large to be a Sword Brother camp,’ said Anton glumly.

‘The other fishermen report seeing Russians in the camp, sirs,’ said Kaja’s companion.

‘That puts paid to it being friends and allies, then,’ remarked Sir Richard.

‘It must be the main Cuman and Russian army,’ said Hans.

‘Just twenty miles to the south,’ remarked Johann.

‘A tempting target,’ said Conrad casually.

Squire Paul looked at Sir Richard and raised an eyebrow.

‘Do not become too ambitious in what this army can achieve, Conrad,’ said the English lord. ‘Even with our reinforcements,’ he smiled at Tonis, ‘we are only four hundred against thousands.’

‘We may surprise the enemy once again,’ said the Estonian, ‘but against such numbers we would only achieve a small victory and could not out-run them after our attack.’

Conrad looked at the fisherman and smiled. ‘What if we could make good our escape without the enemy having the means to pursue us?’

‘How could we do that?’ asked Sir Richard.

‘How many men can fit in one of your boats?’ Conrad asked the fisherman.

The man scratched his filthy beard. ‘Upwards of a score, sir.’

‘And how many boats fish the lake?’ Conrad pressed him.

‘Uh, well, let me see, sir.’ A look of disgust registered on Anton’s face as he spotted a louse on the fisherman’s beard. He was even more appalled when the man picked his nose and flicked what he had dug out on the floor.

‘More than fifty boats fish the lake, sir, though the majority are located in the north where the lake is wider and fishing better. The southern end is vary narrow, you see, and overgrown with yellow and white lilies, pondweeds, arrowhead, bulrush and other water plants. They look lovely in the summer. I remember a time…’

Conrad held up a hand. ‘Thank you. How long has the camp to the south of the lake been there?’

The fisherman was now picking his other nostril. ‘At least two days, sir.’

‘Is there any point to this, Conrad?’ asked Johann.

Conrad stood up. ‘I propose we borrow the boats of our fishermen friends and pay the Cumans a visit.’

Sir Richard ran a hand over his bald crown. ‘Ambitious, but you don’t know if the Cumans will still be there even if you can assemble the boats to transport over four hundred men.’

‘Not that many, my lord,’ said Conrad. ‘We take only those who know the business of war, not including my crossbowmen.’

‘Your crossbowmen?’ said Johann.

‘I meant the order’s, of course,’ Conrad offered quickly. He looked at the fisherman.

‘How quickly can you assemble twenty boats?’

‘It will take me the rest of today, sir.’

‘See to it, if you would.’

The fisherman rubbed his nose and exited the tent. Conrad laid a hand on Kaja’s shoulder.

‘You too.’

‘Can I accompany you on your raid against the killer’s of my family,
Susi
?’ she asked.

‘Not this time.’

Sir Richard was unconvinced, believing that the Cumans would be long gone by the time they reached the site of their camp, but went along with the plan nonetheless. Tonis thought it an excellent idea. After the meeting the raiding force was assembled as Kaja stood on the lake’s shore waiting for the flotilla of boats to arrive. As he had declared in Sir Richard’s pavilion only those who knew the business of war would be sailing south. They included Tonis and fifty other wolf shields, all the Jerwen and Rotalians that had accompanied Conrad to Lehola, Sir Richard’s knights, squires and lesser knights, men who could not afford to maintain a squire or warhorse but who had been trained in the martial arts, fifty warriors chosen by Tonis from among the Ungannians he had recruited, plus Conrad and his three fellow brother knights. As the light began to fade nearly two hundred and fifty heavily armed and armoured men stood on the shore of the lake waiting for their transports.

‘You think that old fisherman will turn up?’ Sir Richard asked Conrad as they stared at the flat surface of the lake. It was impossible to see more than two hundred paces as the gloom descended and Conrad’s heart began to sink at the prospect of having no boats. Around him men in helmets and mail armour stood in silence. All the brother knights and Sir Richard’s men were armed with swords in addition to axes and maces, while the majority of the Estonians carried single-handed axes as their main weapons, only the chiefs among them being equipped with swords. All wore long knives at their hips and some carried additional knives tucked into their boots. They left their spears behind so as not to encumber themselves when clambering in and out of boats, not that there were any.

‘They are not coming,’ said Anton.

Squire Paul stood with his arms folded across his thick chest, a vicious mace resting against his leg, his full-face helm on the sandy shore behind it.

‘They’re here,’ he grunted impassively.

There was a ripple of excitement among the ranks as the prow of a boat appeared out of the mist that was forming on the water, then another and another. They moved silently towards the shore, at least fifteen of the wooden vessels with a single mast and sail, gently running aground on the sand. The two fishermen who had supplied the Sword Brothers with fish jumped ashore and searched out the brother knights.

‘Took longer than I thought to collect the boats,’ said the older man. He extended an arm to the row of boats on the shore. ‘All the crews are willing to take your men to the southern shore and bring them back again. Many have lost friends and cousins to the invaders.’

Hans peered into the misty half-light above the water. ‘Can you find your way in the dark?’

‘Me and the other captains have sailed this lake for more years than I care to remember,’ replied the fisherman. ‘We’ll get you there; have no fear.

He looked at the assembled warriors. ‘Better get everyone loaded.’

‘Wait,’ said Conrad, who then kneeled on the sand, bowed his head and brought his hands together in prayer. Hans, Anton and Johann did the same and were followed by Sir Richard and his knights and squires. The Estonians looked on bemused as the Christian warriors asked for God’s blessing before they embarked on their mission of slaughter.

Conrad rose to his feet and drew his sword. ‘God with us!’ he shouted, a cry that was echoed by the three other Sword Brothers and Sir Richard’s men. Then the embarkation began.

The vessels were called
kaleboats
and they had sailed on the lake for decades. Steered by a two-man crew, they were around forty feet long with a shallow draught to allow them to navigate the shores of Vortsjarv. Normally their holds were filled with nets and baskets but now they were crammed with soldiers, twenty in each boat, as those who were left behind in the camp pushed them out into the lake and their captains steered them south.

‘The gods go with you,
Susi
,’ said Kaja as she helped to push Conrad’s boat away from the shore.

He smiled at her. ‘I will see you in the morning.’

‘God willing,’ said Hans beside him.

‘There is no wind,’ remarked Johann, looking at the boat’s furled sail. ‘What is going to propel the boat?’

Conrad and Anton looked at each other in ignorance but as soon as the captain had manoeuvred the boat’s prow so that it faced south he instructed his subordinate to issue oars to the soldiers. These were shorter than the oars used to propel riverboats that hauled supplies and men up the Gauja to Wenden but were stouter, being fashioned from spruce with an ash spine.

‘Now divide yourselves equally and sit on the sides so you can reach the water with your oars,’ ordered the captain. ‘And no chatter, sound travels far over the surface of a lake at night when there’s no wind.’

Given their instructions, Conrad and his companions rowed in silence as night came and the flotilla of
kaleboats
glided south through calm waters. Though it appeared to Conrad that they were travelling slowly, in reality the boats were slim and fast and after only two hours the captain snapped him out of his daydreaming when he gave the order to stop rowing and take their oars out of the water

‘We are close now,’ he hissed.

Conrad looked around but saw only black water and the two boats either side of his own. But then he saw what looked like flat plates in the water. He nudged Hans in front of him and pointed at the water.

‘We must be near the shore,’ he said.

‘No talking!’ the captain growled in a low tone.

The boat continued to move slowly as the number of water plants around it suddenly increased. Then they heard noises ahead, the shouts and laughter of men coming from the black mist. The boat stopped and the captain left his position at the stern and shuffled over to Conrad.

‘That’s as far as I can go,’ he said softly. ‘The shore is around fifty paces away, maybe a hundred. The water is shallow here so you can wade ashore.’

Conrad stared ahead and thought he saw a slight glow in the mist, but the night was moonless and the mist thick and he wasn’t sure.

‘Wait here until we return,’ he told the captain, who wished him good luck.

‘Over the side,’ Conrad said to Hans, picking up his helmet and placing it on his head. Then Conrad picked up his shield from the deck and slid his left arm through the leather straps on its inner side, gripping the last strap, before slipping over the side. He felt the cold, soft mud beneath his feet as the water lapped around his shins but though the water was ice cold it was very shallow. The others followed him into the water as he drew his sword and waded through the mass of water plants that filled this part of the lake. He heard the rustle of men wading through water either side of him and glanced left and right to see figures in the gloom. Vision was restricted through the slits in his helmet but as he moved forward the sounds ahead were becoming louder. At least the Cumans had not moved further east.

Every man had his orders and was left alone with his thoughts as he waded through the lilies and arrowhead towards the camp. Hans was on the right side of Conrad, Johann and Anton on his left. His feet were freezing as the cold water lapped round his lower legs. The mist seemed to be dissipating as they walked forward and Conrad thought he could make out a yellow glow ahead. He heard a splash as someone tripped and fell into the water and he felt his heart beat faster. Would they be discovered? He carried on, slowly moving his legs through the water, his feet now numb from the cold. Then he heard a new sound: a trickling noise directly ahead. He moved forward a few paces and suddenly saw a stooped figure, head bowed. The trickling noise continued and he realised that the man was taking a piss in the lake. He smiled and shuffled forward as the man broke wind and looked up, his manhood in one hand. He died holding his most prized possession as Conrad thrust his sword into his guts.

He saw the camp now: a multitude of large round tents pitched around a hundred paces back from the water’s edge. The raiders exited the water and stepped onto the soft ground. The camp was illuminated by the glow of hundreds of campfires and filled with the sounds of revelry. He saw lines of horses tethered together and figures gathered round fires and walking between tents. As one the attackers quickened their pace because it was only a matter of time before their presence was discovered.

Conrad moved past a line of horses, the beasts whinnying and flicking their tails in alarm. He ran between two tents to where a group of men were standing drinking and laughing round a fire. They heard the sounds of alarm coming from the horses and turned to see what the commotion was, their mouths opening in alarm as they saw the raiders. Conrad thrust his sword into the open mouth of the nearest Cuman before whipping it back and slashing it across the throat of the man next to him, Hans cutting down a third man and Anton and Johann making short work of the other two Cumans. Estonians flooded the immediate area as Conrad picked up a burning log from the fire and walked over to the tent behind him. He nodded to Hans who opened the flap and Conrad tossed the log inside. There were shouts and seconds later two men in shirts and baggy leggings rushed outside, swords in hand. The first died when he literally ran onto Hans’ sword, the second when Conrad thrust his sword through his ribcage and into his heart.