The advance continued. The crossbowmen, including Conrad and his two friends, were in the second rank, ready to shoot at the enemy when they appeared. The Oeselians fought in a similar fashion to the Livs and Estonians: a shield wall of four to six ranks that locked its horns with the enemy shield wall until one broke. But Master Rudolf had no time for a drawn-out mêlée He wanted to disperse the enemy with missiles, break through to the Danes and then withdraw to the boats.
‘Hear that?’ whispered Leatherface.
‘Woodpeckers?’ said Hans.
Leatherface chuckled and winked at Kaja.
‘Wood being chopped more like. We are close to the enemy.’
He had been nonchalantly shouldering his crossbow but now he pulled a quarrel from one of the quivers dangling from the shoulder straps and placed it in the groove of the stock, against the drawn-back bowstring.
‘Look sharp,’ he hissed to his colleagues to his left.
They walked on for another couple of minutes, the sound of chopping getting louder as the widely spaced oaks began to give way to a forest of spruce. But not before the Oeselian party was spotted. There were around a score of them, most engaged in chopping wood for either shelter or firewood. They had posted no guards because they were on their own island and the Danes were closely besieged. So they initially did not spot the blocks of warriors approaching them.
Leatherface loosed the first quarrel, the sharp crack of his crossbow being shot making some of the Oeselians turn and gaze in the direction from where the sound came from. There was a succession of snaps as the other mercenaries released their triggers, followed by yelps and screams as the missiles hit their targets. The relief force was around two hundred paces from the Oeselians, the survivors turning tail and running into the trees as another volley of bolts was directed at them. Knowing that the survivors would alert the besiegers, Rudolf and the other brother knights on the right increased their pace to pursue them. They entered the tall spruce; the rest of the army swarming into the forest as ahead the shouts of the fleeing Oeselians filled the trees.
‘I’m getting too old for this,’ complained Leatherface as he broke into a trot to keep up with those around him.
Conrad, who had shoved his helmet on top of his head during the advance, again looked behind at Kaja.
‘Stay close,’ he ordered before pulling his helm down. Hans and Anton did likewise as they entered the spruce trees and forged ahead.
He heard the shrill blast of horns. The enemy was alerted.
They pushed on, a sense of excitement laced with trepidation infusing them. Conrad could hear shouting ahead from a multitude of voices. The enemy would be waiting for them. He said a silent prayer that his courage would not fail as the spruce trees suddenly ended and the relief force entered a large meadow. Actually that was incorrect. It entered a wide and deep area of tree stumps. He raised his crossbow and the signallers nearby blew their horns to order a halt. He commanded five hundred men of the centre – half the army – and he had no intention of letting it get fragmented amidst a forest of stumps.
On the right Rudolf also halted his men, Sir Richard on the left initially leading his knights forward to get to grips with the enemy shield wall that was rapidly forming just beyond where the stumps ended. But his trumpeters blew their instruments and he and his men shuffled back to align themselves with the Army of the Wolf.
Leatherface slapped Conrad on the back. ‘Now you’ll see why Master Rudolf pays us so well.’
Conrad shoved his helmet up. ‘I thought you haven’t been paid in months.’
Leatherface hooked the bowstring over the double-pronged metal claw attached to the front of his leather belt, placed a foot in the metal stirrup fitted to the fore-end of his crossbow’s stock and forced the stirrup downwards. The bowstring, attached to the claw, was drawn along the stock until it slipped over the catch of the lock. He placed a new bolt in the stock’s groove.
‘We sorted out that business.’
He leered at Kaja. ‘Master Rudolf knows I am too important to let go. Don’t worry, sweet thing, I won’t let any Oeselian rape you.’
Kaja ignored him.
‘Shields!’ shouted Conrad, again pulling his helmet down. There was one rank of warriors in front of him, all armed with hand axes to hack at the enemy in front when the shield walls collided. Behind him the other Estonian warriors brought their shields up to form a roof as a defence against Oeselian arrows.
The Oeselian shield wall was thickening by the minute, warriors running to equal the extent of the relief force’s line and then outflank it as hundreds of Olaf’s men prepared to destroy the new arrivals. Men with spears and axes began hurling abuse at Rudolf’s army, banging the hafts of their weapons against their shields to produce a mighty din to both intimidate the enemy and bolster their own courage. The Oeselian shields were all round and painted with a mixture of colours: red and yellow, black and yellow and red and white. The men that held them all wore helmets with nasal guards and mail shirts. They were the best fighters in the Oeselian army and among them would be Olaf himself, though Conrad had no knowledge of what he looked like. A few Oeselians broke ranks and ran forward, big men with no fear who spread their arms to bare their torsos in an act of bravado that brought loud cheers from their comrades. One ran forward and hurled his spear at the ranks of the Army of the Wolf, the point slamming into the earth a few paces from the man in front of Conrad.
‘Time to shut them up,’ snarled Leatherface.
‘Wait for Master Rudolf’s signal,’ shouted Conrad from within his helmet.
But the brother knight was getting concerned that the enemy shield wall was still thickening and lengthening and they were doing nothing. Soon, notwithstanding the belt of tree stumps in front, it would start inching forward to get to grips with them. Beyond the shield wall he caught glimpses of tents and a long mound of what appeared to be a rampart, on top of which was segments of a low wall. Then he heard a blast of horns and what he had feared was happening: the Oeselians were moving forward.
He did not know how many warriors were in the enemy’s shield wall but it overlapped the relief force’s line at each end by at least fifty yards. There were perhaps a hundred paces between the two sides when Olaf’s men began shuffling forward, his warriors shouting their war cries and promising to send the Christians to their hell. Their confidence was high because although they would have seen the banners and insignia of the Sword Brothers, the men of iron had no warhorses that made the earth tremble when they charged.
Then Rudolf gave his signal.
A sharp trumpet blast came from the ranks of the Sword Brothers, followed by deeper horn blasts among the Army of the Wolf and a trumpet call from Sir Richard’s ranks. And then the shooting started. Conrad aimed his crossbow, pulled the trigger and went about reloading his weapon. Master Rudolf had brought two hundred and fifty crossbowmen to Oesel, three more including Conrad, Hans and Anton, and now they methodically went about their business. Loosing missiles from behind the front ranks they shot four hundred and eighty bolts in thirty seconds, delivering the same number in the following thirty seconds.
They continued shooting up to four bolts a minute, the metal-tipped missiles cutting through the air to hit enemy necks and faces. The Oeselian line staggered and then stopped as the shield wall walked into a swarm of iron-tipped quarrels. The shield wall’s front rank disintegrated as bolts were aimed at just above the Oeselian shields. Men collapsed, clutched their faces in agony or fell backwards, dead, on to the men behind.
In two minutes over nineteen hundred bolts had been shot at the enemy shield wall, in front of which was a rapidly forming mound of dead and dying men. The crossbowmen continued shooting, reaching into their quivers to extract bolts to shoot at the enemy. There was nothing rushed about their work, just a calm, steady sequence of loading, shooting and reloading. The Estonians, Sword Brothers and Sir Richard’s knights remained silent and still as the crossbowmen went about their business.
Opposite was a noisy scene of carnage as warlords tried to establish some sort of order as their men were cut down in front of their eyes.
‘Raise shields,’ came the cry as someone noticed that the Christian soldiers were shooting at heads and necks.
So the Oeselians raised their shields to hide their faces and bolts began slamming into the leather and wood. But the order’s mercenaries and sergeants were canny and simply adjusted their aim. There was a slight pause, a temporary silence and then dozens of high-pitched screams as quarrels began to slam into legs and groins suddenly exposed as the Oeselians raised their shields. If anything the crossbowmen’s task was easier as they aimed their bolts at a dense forest of unarmoured legs.
Conrad had shot at least a dozen bolts when what was left of the Oeselian shield wall began to edge back and then dissolved as those who were uninjured could take no more and ran for their lives. For a few seconds Conrad thought that an age-old habit would take hold of his Estonians and they would break ranks and charge to pursue the enemy. But they had been at Wenden for months and in that time had spent many hours training with the brother knights, sergeants and mercenaries.
‘Hold your ground, you heathen bastards,’ shouted Leatherface, his head and neck covered in sweat. ‘I’ll kill the first man who breaks ranks.’
Conrad shoved his helmet up on his head.
‘Maintain order, wait for the command.’
It came seconds later when Master Rudolf’s trumpeters signalled the advance. The three blocks of soldiers began walking forward, skirting the tree trunks easily enough but then having to tread on the piles of dead and dying Oeselians. It was a ghastly sight, men sobbing and whimpering with crossbow bolts embedded in their jaws, cheeks and noses, or staring in horror at their shattered shins and bleeding thighs. The lucky ones had been killed instantly when a sharp-headed bolt had gone into an eye socket and then the brain. Or had pierced their windpipe. But they all ended up dead when they were trampled on and men with axes or maces put them out of their misery.
The enemy had seemingly disappeared as the army pushed on into a mass of empty tents and campfires. The pace picked up as soldiers appeared on the earth rampart ahead, the relief army moving through a line of what appeared to be small, crudely built mangonels, beside each one a pile of stones. Danish soldiers came walking and hobbling from their camp, descending the rampart to stumble into the ditch before cheering their saviours.
Conrad removed his helmet and took gulps of air as Hans and Anton slapped him on the back. He turned to ensure Kaja was still with him. She was, grinning at him from behind the thick nasal guard of her helmet. He uncorked his water bottle and took a swig, resisting the temptation to empty its contents. The Army of the Wolf now descended into loud chatter as the warriors marvelled at their easy victory.
Then Rudolf was standing in front of Conrad, helmetless with sword in hand.
‘Get your men inside the camp,’ he ordered him, ‘and come with me.’
He pointed at Kaja. ‘You too.’
Conrad delegated command of the Estonians to Hans and Anton and then hurried after Rudolf, Kaja racing to his side.
‘What does Master Rudolf want with me,
Susi
?’ she asked.
‘I know as much as you, Kaja.’
Conrad was shocked by the sight that greeted his eyes as he and Kaja tramped after Master Rudolf in the company of Bertram, Mathias, Sir Richard and Brother Lukas, the latter carrying a large leather tube slung over his shoulder. The relief army had swept over the eastern side of the Danish camp, which appeared to be filled with wounded men hobbling around or sitting listlessly round campfires. He could see freshly dug earth covering what he presumed was a burial pit; beside it another pit was being dug. The Danish soldiers looked exhausted, their faces pale, cheeks sunken with black rings around their eyes. They just stood and stared with vacant expressions as the Sword Brothers made their way to the royal pavilion. The stench of human and animal waste and dead flesh made Kaja twist up her face.
‘Death has come to gorge itself on this camp,
Susi
.’
Conrad spat on the ground as the odour tickled the back of his throat. ‘I fear you are right.’
At Valdemar’s pavilion Rudolf spoke to a herald who disappeared inside. After less than a minute he reappeared and ordered guards wearing ripped surcoats bearing the king’s insignia of three blue lions surrounded by red hearts on a yellow background to escort the Sword Brothers inside. The aroma under the canvas was only slightly better than that outside. Like most great pavilions it was divided into a number of rooms, the largest of which was the throne area where King Valdemar sat in a high-backed chair flanked by priests and lords. The churchmen looked deathly pale and jumpy, though a look of utter relief came over them as Rudolf and the others stood in a line in front of Valdemar and bowed their heads.
Conrad was taken aback by the king’s appearance. He had seen him only fleetingly on that fateful day in front of Reval. Then he had appeared regal and magnificent, a great warlord in mail on a mighty warhorse surrounded by a host of knights. But now he looked the shadow of that man, his hair greasy and matted, his shoulders slumped, his cheeks sunken and his tired eyes bereft of vigour. He raised a hand to Rudolf.
‘Greetings, Master Rudolf. Your arrival is most timely. God has subjected me to a great trial, which I have, with His assistance, passed. And now the Sword Brothers and Danes will unite to rid this island of the pestilence of paganism.’
There were mutterings of agreement from the knights, priests and officials flanking and behind the king, which was acknowledge by Valdemar with a half-hearted lift of a hand.
‘Your majesty underestimates the predicament of our situation,’ replied Rudolf. ‘We have come to expedite the evacuation of what remains of your majesty’s army, for my initial observation suggests that it is on its last legs.’
There were gasps from the king’s entourage at the Sword Brother’s impertinence, though Rudolf and the other two masters remained impassive as the officials and priests whispered among themselves.
‘Silence!’ snapped the king. He looked at Rudolf.
‘You seem to forget, Master Rudolf, that my ships currently blockade Livonia as punishment for the insolence shown to me outside Reval by your own order. Choose your words carefully, Sword Brother, lest my wrath towards your bishop and order increases.’
Rudolf ignored the king and turned to Lukas who removed the top covering of the leather tube, pulled out a large rolled parchment and handed it to Wenden’s master. Rudolf held it out to the king.
‘This is a document I had drawn up that I would be grateful if your majesty would sign. It is an order from your majesty lifting the blockade of Livonia, ceding all Estonian lands to the Order of Sword Brothers and reinstating Brother Conrad of our order to his position of Marshal of Estonia. If your majesty’s chamberlain or justiciar would care to read it I am sure they will find it straightforward and in order.’
Valdemar said nothing at first; in fact none of the Danes responded to Rudolf’s words. But then a tall, slim knight wearing a dirty surcoat that bore a white leaf design against a red background began to laugh. The others followed his example and soon the pavilion was filled by Danish laughter. The knight pointed at Rudolf.
‘You dare to speak to the king so? You should be on your knees to the monarch who has conquered the Baltic and all of northern Germany.’
Rudolf held the young man’s arrogant stare and waited for the laughter to die down. He spoke once more, his voice calm and firm.
‘The Oeselians blockade Matsalu Bay and Reval. This camp is surrounded and cut off from its supply base.’
He smiled at Valdemar. ‘As the conqueror of the Baltic does not require the services of the Sword Brothers we will depart and leave your majesty to joust with the Oeselians. Please forgive the interruption.’
He handed the document back to Lukas, bowed curtly to Valdemar, turned and strode towards the exit. Conrad saw a portly priest in a mitre and rich attire rush to Valdemar’s side.
‘Your majesty. I am imploring you to seize the opportunity that the Lord has sent.’
‘We are sorely pressed, majesty’ remarked a middle-aged knight standing immediately behind the king.
‘Wait,’ Valdemar ordered Rudolf.
Wenden’s master stopped and turned.
‘I have heard of the arrogance of the Sword Brothers,’ stated Valdemar, ‘but now I have seen it with my own eyes. You think that because my position is precarious I will yield to your insolent demands?’
‘I do,’ replied Rudolf.
‘Let me deal with him’ said Count Albert, who began to walk forward drawing his sword.
Immediately the three masters, Conrad, Lukas and Sir Richard drew their weapons, as did Kaja.
‘Stop!’ commanded Valdemar. ‘Put away your weapons, all of you.’
Rudolf stared unblinking at Count Albert, and then slid his sword back into its scabbard. The other masters and Sir Richard did the same. Conrad also sheathed his sword.
‘You too, Kaja.’
She sneered at Count Albert but did as she was told.
‘It is death to draw your sword in the presence of a king,’ remarked Valdemar casually.
‘We serve the King of kings,’ said Rudolf, ‘and answer to Him only.’
‘I do not yield to threats,’ stated Valdemar.
‘I make no threats, majesty,’ replied Rudolf. ‘I came here at the head of an army despite your declaration of war on the Bishop of Riga and the Sword Brothers, for how else may your actions be interpreted? As your enemy, therefore, I have extended an olive branch in good faith. But if you refuse my generous terms then I will have no hesitation in leaving this place.’
Valdemar cracked a half-smile. ‘Generous terms? You think giving up Estonia and ending the blockade is generous?’
‘Of course,’ said Rudolf. ‘Estonia was never yours in the first place and Lübeck has grown rich from the trade with Riga, which means that your coffers have been filled as you control the city. By maintaining the blockade you cut off your nose to spite your face.’
‘That is true, majesty,’ said the Bishop of Roskilde.
Valdemar angrily waved him away and rose from his chair.
‘What will the Sword Brothers give me in return should I decide to accept your terms?’
Rudolf walked forward and bowed his head. ‘I would guarantee that my order would not assault Reval, majesty.’
‘Is that all?’ said Valdemar in exasperation.
‘It is an outrage,’ fumed Count Albert.
Rudolf turned and pointed at Kaja. ‘Take off your helmet.’
She did so and shook her hair free. The Danes looked, astounded, at the blue-eyed beauty who was dressed and armed like a man. Rudolf pointed at the count.
‘Any more noise from you and I will order this girl to castrate you,
boy
.’
Mathias and Bertram laughed, though Sir Richard looked uncomfortable. Conrad smirked and rested his hand on the pommel of his sword in case the angry young knight decided to attack Kaja.
Rudolf pointed at him. ‘This is Conrad Wolff, Marshal of Estonia, who has brought his army to Oesel. It stands outside this tent. If we withdraw without the king’s agreement then I will unleash him and his army against Reval, supported by the siege engines of the Sword Brothers.’
‘You would do that?’ said the king.
‘You declared yourself an enemy of my order, my lord,’ said Rudolf. ‘Enemies fight each other. I would merely be fulfilling the obligations that you yourself have placed upon me.’
Valdemar stared at Conrad. ‘So you are the leader of the army of pagans. Is your army so deficient that you have to include young girls among its ranks?’
Conrad was about to answer but looked at Rudolf first. The master nodded.
‘This young girl has just defeated the Oeselians, majesty, which is more than can be said for Denmark’s nobles.’
Valdemar’s knights were outraged at this and were about to launch themselves at Conrad, who stepped back and adopted a fighting stance, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. But Valdemar stood once more and commanded his knights to control themselves.
‘Keeper of the Seal, step forward.’
There were glances between the Danes and then the Bishop of Roskilde approached the king.
‘He was killed yesterday, majesty.’
Valdemar closed his eyes. ‘Who then has my seal?’
‘His deputy, my liege.’
‘Whoever has my seal, let him show himself.’
A short, middle-aged man with a ruddy complexion gingerly stepped from behind the Danish lords and prelates. He had a leather bag slung over his shoulder. He bowed deeply to Valdemar.
‘Majesty.’
The king pointed at Rudolf. ‘I will set my seal to your wretched document so I can be away from this pestilential island. I will end my blockade of Livonia because it harms the interests of Denmark. I will also renounce my claim to Estonia, excepting Reval, as a gesture of friendship to the Bishop of Riga, a prince of the Catholic Church who is engaged upon a holy mission in these parts.’
To the anguish of his knights but the utter relief of his priests hot wax was dripped on to Rudolf’s document and stamped with the king’s seal. He then signed it. It was handed back to Rudolf who gave it to Lukas for safekeeping.
‘But know, Master Rudolf,’ said Valdemar, ‘that the Sword Brothers, Marshal of Estonia and his heathen army are still my enemies, against which I will strive to exact vengeance for the insult done to me this day.’
Rudolf bowed to Valdemar. ‘Majesty.’
Once the agreement had been sealed Rudolf was most urgent for the king and what was left of his army to be away from the death trap that his camp had become. The seriously wounded were left behind to be either killed or taken as slaves by the Oeselians, though as they could not walk they would probably be sacrificed to Taarapita, the islanders’ god of war. Any livestock, ponies and horses still alive were similarly abandoned, much to the anger of the knights who killed their own warhorses rather than see them fall into the hands of the enemy.
Valdemar had arrived on Oesel with two thousand fighting men and an entourage of three hundred priests, courtiers and members of the royal household. He left with six hundred soldiers, half of whom were walking wounded and two hundred of his entourage.
Rudolf set a cruel pace to the evacuation beach, eager to be off the island before the day was out. He placed his crossbowmen in the rear and on the flanks and gave orders that they were to shoot at any Oeselians that showed themselves. Fifty wounded Danes expired during the journey, their bodies left behind in the oak forest the army retreated through.
On the beach an ebullient Master Rudolf bellowed at Danes and Sword Brothers alike to board the boats that had come ashore to pick them up. Conrad went over to him as Leatherface and his crossbowmen knelt on the shingle facing the forest, waiting for the Oeselians to pour from the trees. Kaja trailed after him, proudly carrying the flag that now fluttered in a stiffening breeze. Rudolf was watching the portly Bishop of Roskilde clambering aboard the boat where the king stood on the deck. Two of his priests unceremoniously shoved him up and over the gunwale.
‘I fear you have made an enemy of King Valdemar, master,’ said Conrad.
Rudolf gave a low laugh. ‘He was always my enemy, Conrad, and yours. But I have forced him to lift the stranglehold he had over Livonia and accept that he has no claim on Estonia.’
He turned and slapped Conrad on the arm. ‘And you have your command back.’
The boat containing the king was pushed off by its crew, the wind filling its sail as it and others left the island.
‘He will be back, master.’
‘He might,’ agreed Rudolf, ‘but did you notice that there were no German lords among his followers. I wonder if Valdemar has alienated those whom he had defeated and forced to be his vassals.’
Conrad also wondered if Rudolf had been disappointed that his father had not been present to witness his victory over Valdemar but said nothing. For his part he was disappointed that Count Henry had not been on Oesel.
‘So, girl,’ Rudolf said to Kaja, ‘what did you think of the King of Denmark?’
‘He looked tired and defeated, master,’ was her reply. ‘But will he keep his word?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Rudolf. ‘He put his seal and signature to a document in front of witnesses and in the sight of God.’