The Sword Brothers (106 page)

Curiously, their
elected leader was a non-German, an Englishman by the name of Sir
Richard Bruffingham. Taller than most, he had shaved his head and
beard in an act of penitence before he had left England to crusade
in Livonia. The eldest son of a powerful northern lord, Bruffingham
had had the misfortune to fall in love with the woman who was to
wed his best friend. His affections had turned into infatuation and
he had pursued the poor woman until, beside herself with worry, she
had taken her own life. This had cast Sir Richard into the pit of
despair, his misery and guilt made worse when his best friend also
killed himself rather than face a lifetime without his true love.
Overcome with remorse, he had decided to go on crusade in an effort
to seek God’s forgiveness for his sins. He brought with him his
squire, a man not much younger than himself whose vocation had been
executioner before Sir Richard persuaded him that serving as his
squire was more noble than stretching necks, torturing people and
cutting off their heads. Tough, able to use a sword and ride a
horse, squire Paul was a useful man to have in a tight spot.

The final component of
the army that numbered just under four hundred men was Master
Thaddeus, his engineers and the six mangonels that had been
dismantled and packed onto wagons for the journey north. More
wagons carried their ammunition and yet more spare weapons, armour,
clothes, food, fodder and thousands of crossbow bolts. Each wagon
had waterproof covers for autumn in Livonia was above all wet.
There were actually more horses and draught animals than men when
the army finally left Wenden on a wet, windy morning; the track
north soon turning to mud as dozens of heavy wheels churned up the
ground. The spearmen and crossbowmen marched beside the wagons,
after a few hours piling their shields and weapons on them as the
rain got heavier, the ground wetter and men had to haul the wagons
out of the mud. The army covered a grand total of five miles that
first day.

Joint command had been
awarded to Sir Richard and masters Bertram and Mathias, though
during the twenty days that it took the army to crawl through the
rolling hills and forests of southern Estonia they followed the
directions of the Ungannian guides sent to them by Kalju. Conrad
often rode with the three leaders on account of his knowledge of
the Estonian tongue, allowing them to liaise with the guides.

‘You are a friend of
this pagan chief?’ Sir Richard asked him in flawless German.

‘No, lord,’ said
Conrad. ‘I was on patrol when he came to Wenden and was the first
person he came across.’

‘Is it true that they
sacrifice babies?’

Conrad tried hard not
to laugh. ‘I have not heard so, lord.’

Sir Richard looked
around at the trees that stretched for miles either side of the
column of men and wagons behind them.

‘It seems strange that
we march to assist a pagan.’

‘Better that he fights
by our side, lord, than with Lembit against us.’

‘Brother Conrad
wounded Lembit a few years back, scarred his face,’ said Master
Mathias, ‘when his warriors tried to take Wenden.’

Sir Richard looked at
Conrad who was at least ten years younger than him. ‘Perhaps you
will get a chance to give him another scar soon.’

Conrad thought of his
wife and child and the wolf shields who had killed them. ‘If God
wills it, lord.’

But he prayed that he
would be given a chance to face Lembit on the battlefield.

After a thoroughly
miserable and lengthy march, during which forty beasts had died of
heart attacks due to excessive exertions pulling wagons through
mud, peat bogs and marsh when the rear of the column inadvertently
strayed off course, the crusaders finally reached Odenpah. The name
meant ‘bear’s head’ on account that the fort looked like the head
of said animal when viewed from the side. It was sited upon a huge
hill positioned in the middle of a large expanse of grassland
surrounded by thick woods. The stronghold had two levels, an
exterior timber wall extending all the way round the lower level
and an inner wall encompassing a great hall on the higher, upper
level. It was certainly an impressive stronghold.

Kalju himself rode out
to greet the army as it made its way towards the twin gates that
gave access to the fort’s lower level. The chief galloped to where
the two masters and Sir Richard sat on their horses, a great banner
bearing a golden eagle carried by his bodyguard behind him. Both
Rudolf and Conrad were in attendance when the chief halted before
the Christian leaders as he had never before met Sir Richard,
Bertram or Mathias.

He raised his hand to
the knights wearing white surcoats, the masters sporting the
insignia of the Sword Brothers. But Sir Richard wore no coat of
arms because he thought his actions had disgraced his family’s
honour and he was therefore not fit to bear its heraldry.

‘Welcome to Odenpah,’
beamed Kalju, who spotted Conrad. ‘And greetings to you, Conrad
Wolff.’

Conrad bowed his head
as Kalju invited the lords to a feast he would give in his hall in
celebration of their arrival. All his soldiers were invited to
attend but the lords were horrified at the idea and told him that
the army would pitch its tents in front of the fort where it would
remain until such time as the enemy appeared.

That night the first
snow fell to herald winter in Estonia.

The next day, as the
sky in front of the fort filled with the smoke of dozens of
campfires, Kalju escorted the Sword Brother masters and Sir Richard
on a tour of his stronghold. Also in attendance were Rudolf and
Conrad to act as interpreters, and Master Thaddeus. Odenpah had
been constructed in traditional style, with high timber walls and
towers at regular intervals. The towers were roofed over with
shingles and there was a walkway along the whole extent of the wall
that connected all the towers, though it was not covered. Warriors
in leather and mail armour and helmets manned the towers but the
walkway was clear.

The higher, inner
timber wall was shorter in extent but also contained towers.
Between the two walls were huts, stabling areas and animal pens. As
they walked along the wall Kalju noticed that Master Thaddeus kept
looking at the area between the walls, the upper level of the fort
and then beyond the outer perimeter to the grassland that
surrounded three sides of Odenpah. On the northern side of the fort
was a small lake that came right up to the slope of the hill on
which Odenpah was built. There was a small gate in the northern
wall that allowed the garrison to fetch water from the lake.

Kalju nodded towards
Thaddeus who was mumbling to himself.

‘Who is that old
man?’

‘Master Thaddeus,’
replied Rudolf.

‘One of our most
important men,’ added Conrad.

Kalju pointed at the
doddering figure wrapped in felt boots, a padded jacket and
fur-lined cloak who carried no weapons and talked to himself.

‘Him?’

‘He is our chief
engineer,’ said Rudolf, ‘a man who can batter down walls with his
machines.’

Kalju was not
convinced but was happy enough to allow the old man to follow them
as he showed the crusaders the walls, towers and then hall,
barracks, stables and huts that were sited on the hill’s upper
level, within the inner wall. They were impressed by the fort’s
position, strength and layout, though not by the fact that it was
filled with the old, women and children.

‘I have gathered the
elderly, women and children from the surrounding villages,’ said
Kalju when they sat with him in his hall, a cavernous wooden
structure filled with huge oak pillars that supported the high
roof. A fire raged in the stone hearth in the centre of the hall,
filling it with smoke despite the openings in the ceiling.

‘How many warriors do
you have here,’ asked Bertram.

‘Just over four
hundred,’ replied Kalju.

‘That few?’ said Sir
Richard, Rudolf translating for him.

Kalju shrugged. ‘I
have to garrison the other forts in my kingdom so they too can
provide safe havens for my people when the Russians come.’

Thaddeus was squinting
at Kalju, not understanding his words and becoming more
frustrated.

‘Are you ill, Master
Thaddeus?’ enquired Conrad.

‘No, but you can speak
my words for me, young Conrad,’ said Thaddeus.

But before he spoke a
woman entered the hall: tall, wearing a green woollen skirt and
long-sleeved brown tunic. She had wild hair and as she came closer
Conrad noticed that she had green eyes.

‘Ah,’ said Kalju,
spotting her, ‘this is my wife Eha and the mother of my two sons
and three daughters.’

She smiled at the
crusaders who rose and bowed their heads at her.

‘Dusk,’ said
Conrad.

They all looked at him
with amusement.

Kalju laughed. ‘That
is correct, Conrad, Eha means “dusk” in our language.’ He pointed
at Conrad. ‘Eha, this is Conrad Wolff who speaks our language and
has fought many battles in his short life.’

Eha smiled at him and
tilted her head. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Conrad Wolff.’

Master Thaddeus
cleared his throat.

‘Master Thaddeus would
like to say something.’

Before he spoke Kalju
ordered beer and food be brought to the hall, his wife sitting
beside him at the table that was hastily arranged by servants, who
proceeded to pile it with wooden bowls and platters loaded with
meat, fish and bread. Other slaves brought strong honey beer that
was served to Kalju, his wife and the crusaders. Conrad took a gulp
and then stood as Master Thaddeus began talking, Conrad translating
his words as the engineer began pacing up and down and wagging his
finger at the others.

The fort was very
strong and could be held against a far superior attacking force,
notwithstanding the women and children who would eat up supplies
very quickly during a siege. Thaddeus said that it would be better
it they were sent away. Was there any possibility of this? Kalju
said no. Thaddeus then asked him how many archers he had at
Odenpah. Less than fifty. Thaddeus frowned but stated that the best
course of action therefore would be to line the outer wall with all
the crossbowmen and archers they possessed, but stockpile bolts and
arrows along the inner wall in the event that the outer wall was
taken by the foe. The latter would soon discover to their cost that
missiles could be shot down on them from the high, inner wall.

He next addressed the
issue of the moat.

‘What moat?’ said
Kalju.

Odenpah was built on
an oblong hill and below the outer wall was a sloping earth rampart
but there was no moat.

‘The one that your men
and the soldiers that have marched here are going to dig,’ Thaddeus
told him.

Bertram, Mathias and
Sir Richard looked at each other in confusion.

‘That is correct, my
lords,’ said Thaddeus without the need for translation. ‘Your men
will assist in the creation of a moat that will surround the fort
to add another layer to its defences. Please continue to translate,
Conrad.’

Thaddeus told Kalju
that he was amazed that no one had thought of the idea of creating
a moat, especially as a nice-sized lake abutted the north side of
the fort. He was now pacing up and down, lecturing those seated
like a tutor before his students. Kalju was amused, the crusaders
bemused as Thaddeus informed the chief that some of the huts and
other buildings between the outer and inner walls would have to be
demolished to accommodate his mangonels.

‘What are they?’ asked
Kalju.

‘Machines for throwing
large objects,’ answered Thaddeus. ‘But the immediate priority is
the construction of the moat.’

‘The Russians could be
here any day,’ remarked Kalju.

Thaddeus stopped and
stood to face the chief. ‘Well, my lord, I suggest we begin digging
as soon as possible.’

And so they did,
hundreds of men sweating and cursing as they dug and hacked at the
earth at the base of the fort’s rampart under the watchful eye of
Master Thaddeus and his engineers. Kalju sent out mounted patrols
to keep watch for the enemy but they returned with the happy
tidings that no Russians had been spotted. As the snowfall grew
steadily heavier and the ground harder, at Odenpah both Ungannians
and Christians started to believe that the enemy would not
come.

*****

‘You will march
against Odenpah immediately,’ ordered Mstislav. ‘You should have
taken it earlier in the year but instead you amused yourself with
burning and raping instead on focusing on taking the Ungannian
stronghold.’

Domash bristled at the
insult but kept his tongue. He knew better than to contradict the
prince when he was in a rage, his predecessor having paid with his
life for daring to stand up to Mstislav. The latter had returned in
triumph to Novgorod following his foray into Wierland but had been
enraged to discover that Domash, who had five thousand Polotskians
as reinforcements, had failed to capture Odenpah. He had made a
leisurely return to Novgorod but on his arrival had set out for
Pskov. Mstislav had decided to execute Domash for his failure but
before he left had received an interesting missive that made him
change his mind.

‘The year is old,
lord,’ said Domash. ‘A winter march will be hard on the
troops.’

Mstislav jabbed a
finger in his face. ‘When your men start bellyaching you can tell
them they have been dragged out of their wives’ beds because of the
incompetence of their mayor. You will march west immediately.’

‘The Polotskians have
returned to their city,’ said Domash. ‘I will have too few
men.’

Mstislav gave him a
sly smile. ‘Far from it. You will be pleased to know that when you
arrive at Odenpah reinforcements will be awaiting you.’