‘What course would you advise, lord marshal?’
Conrad thought for a moment. ‘If Kristjan cannot be reasoned with he will have to be defeated and Ungannia conquered. After that the rest of Estonia will have to be subdued, both to rid it of the Oeselians and crush the power of the Danes, which means capturing Reval.’
Hermann’s eyes widened. ‘The list of the enemies of Livonia grows long.’
‘That is why your brother created the Sword Brothers, lord bishop.’
Hermann looked at him and his friends riding behind them, hard men, heavily armed and attired in mail.
‘There are some that say that the Sword Brothers are too powerful, that they strive to make Livonia their own kingdom rather than my brother’s.’
‘I thought it was God’s kingdom,’ replied Conrad, then realising who he was talking to. ‘My apologies, lord bishop, I meant no respect.’
‘You are right, Conrad. It is God’s kingdom.’
‘I must also apologise for insulting your son, lord bishop,’ said Conrad.
‘My son?’
‘Archdeacon Stefan. I had no idea that he was your son.’
A look of horror spread across Hermann’s face.
‘He is my sister’s son, not mine, thank the Lord. So your apology is unnecessary.’
‘He will not take kindly to his soldiers being assaulted, Conrad,’ said Hans.
‘They are not his soldiers,’ replied Conrad irritably, ‘they are Bishop Albert’s.’
‘Perhaps you could tell my nephew that,’ suggested the bishop.
They arrived at Riga two hours later after a pleasant ride through sweet-smelling meadows and woods teeming with game and birds. The air was fresh, the weather warm and the company most agreeable and Conrad thought Livonia was truly blessed. Until he entered Riga.
An imposing stone wall now surrounded the city, but more impressive were the castle and the cathedral, the latter more massive and magnificent than the former and both dominating the skyline. It had been eleven years since Bishop Albert had laid the foundation stone of the cathedral and, notwithstanding the fire that had severely damaged the structure three years later it had become a powerful statement of the might of the Holy Church in the Baltic. It had been constructed of bricks, stone blocks being used only in the outer corners of the building. The architects had constructed it in the style of ancient Rome so that it displayed a strong sense of proportion and order. It was also solid, like a rock to withstand the assault of paganism, and like the buildings found in ancient Rome its design included numerous rounded arches and vaults. It literally dwarfed the other wooden churches in Riga.
As they drew nearer to one of the gatehouses Conrad’s nose was assaulted first by the stench of dung, animal and human, the result of night soil men who were tipping barrels of excrement into the streams that ran to the Dvina. Though the likelihood that the filth would be carried to the great river was minimal. Pigs rooted around in the dung, lifting their muck-covered snouts up to peer with their tiny eyes at the four riders as they passed them to walk their horses into the city.
Now the quarantine had been lifted the road was full of hawkers, carts, Livs and boys with dirty faces and even dirtier clothes running between the horses and carts to beg. The bishop ignored them and Conrad waved them away but Hans threatened to cut off the light-fingered hands of one who tried to interfere with the load carried on the packhorse. Above them spearmen in the livery of the garrison leaned against the battlements, unconcerned by the bustle below.
Fortunately it had not rained earlier so the dirt road was not too badly churned up as they walked their horses passed by town houses of merchants and abbots, servants shovelling animal dung that had been deposited in front of their masters’ houses. Conrad was amazed by the noise, the voices of hundreds of people arguing, bartering, chatting and laughing. The raucous revelry of alehouses spilled into the streets to compete with the haranguing of white-robed friars threatening hell and damnation on the drunkards. At Wenden everything was ordered, calm and quiet, aside from when it was at war. But here everything was chaotic and loud. Outside the castle Bishop Hermann said his goodbyes.
‘I hope to see you all again,’ he said to the three friends. ‘A word of caution, Conrad: I would not stay too long in Riga. My nephew has a malicious aspect to his character and has probably already learned of the incident at the village.’
‘I will sleep with one eye open, lord bishop,’ said Conrad.
Hermann raised his hand, turned his horse and headed towards the bishop’s palace just a short distance away.
‘A curious day,’ opined Anton. ‘We have made a friend of the bishop’s brother and an enemy of his nephew.’
‘I’m quaking in my boots,’ said Conrad, spurring his horse through the gates of the castle.
Grand Master Volquin was chuckling in his boots when Conrad presented him with the document that had been signed by King Valdemar. He showed it to Master Godfrey, the commander of Holm Castle, one of the order’s castles a short distance east of Riga.
‘I wish I had been on Oesel to see that king grovel to the Sword Brothers.’
Volquin poured wine for Conrad and his two friends into silver flagons.
‘So Conrad,’ said the grand master, ‘do you think that Valdemar will return next year with an army at his back to teach us a lesson?’
Conrad toasted Volquin and Godfrey. ‘I fear so, grand master.’
‘He’s right,’ agreed Godfrey.
Volquin nodded thoughtfully. ‘So what strategy would you recommend, Marshal of Estonia?’
Conrad saw Hans drain his flagon. ‘Seize Reval, grand master. Without it the Danes will have no base from which to launch a campaign against us.’
Godfrey emptied his flagon, refilled Hans’ and then his own. He looked out of the window of Volquin’s office in the castle.
‘We should muster the order, join with Conrad’s bastard heathens and take Reval before the winter.’
‘You would like that, wouldn’t you, Godfrey,’ remarked Volquin. ‘But may I remind you that we are the servants of Bishop Albert not a band of mercenaries. And we now have Ungannia to worry about.’
Godfrey drained his flagon and belched. ‘You think Sir Richard will be able to see out the winter, Conrad?’
‘Yes, master,’ replied Conrad. ‘Lehola will defy Kristjan, of that I have no doubt.’
‘You see,’ Godfrey said to Volquin. ‘We have a God-given opportunity to take Reval and present it as a gift to the bishop when he returns from Germany.’
Volquin smiled but shook his head. ‘Saving Valdemar’s arse is one thing, even if Rudolf did rub his nose in the manure, but declaring war on him is quite another. However, if he does return with an army next year then I will certainly consider your proposal, Conrad.’
Volquin sighed. ‘Besides, the garrison of Riga is in no state to support our order in any ventures this year. The pox killed a quarter of it, another quarter deserted and I doubt we could raise more than a couple of hundred militiamen from the city and surrounding villages.’
‘The pox ravaged Riga, grand master?’ asked Hans, nodding as Godfrey offered to refill his flagon.
‘It killed and scarred enough, Brother Hans,’ replied Volquin, ‘even took a dozen of my own mercenaries. But cities recover and so will the garrison. That snake Nordheim has taken himself off to Germany to recruit more brigands and cutthroats.’
‘Which means Archdeacon Stefan won’t tolerate any of his personal bodyguard leaving the city when he returns from Dünamünde.’
‘He returned this very morning,’ said Volquin.
Godfrey clapped his hands together as in prayer. ‘Praise the Lord he still lives.’
‘That one would survive the great flood,’ joked Volquin. ‘Fortunately Bishop Hermann is in charge of the city until his brother returns.’
‘We met the bishop on our way here, grand master,’ Conrad told him.
He then informed him about the episode with the Liv girl, the altercation with soldiers of the garrison and the intercession of the bishop.
Godfrey pointed at Conrad and his friends. ‘You should have killed all those soldiers, and the villagers too. I hope you are not going soft, Brother Conrad.’
Volquin shook his head. ‘You speak out of turn, Godfrey. The new settlers are going to turn this land into a new Jerusalem.’
‘A new Germany, more like,’ retorted Godfrey, ‘and that’s a den of whores and thieves. I should know, I spent enough years travelling through it as a mercenary.’
Volquin looked at the three brother knights. ‘I think it would be prudent if you all took advantage of the hospitality of Holm tonight before your return to Wenden. The archdeacon might take it personally that some of his men have been roughly handled.’
‘They will recover, grand master,’ said Anton. ‘Conrad only nicked one and made the eyes of another water.’
Godfrey, now a little drunk, howled with laughter. ‘Allow me to translate the grand master’s words. You stay here tonight and chances are that arch-demon Stefan will send some assassins to slit your throats, either that or arrange an ambush a few miles outside the city tomorrow. He’s a malicious, vindictive little bastard who never forgets.’
‘Not the words I would use,’ said Volquin, ‘but I think Master Godfrey has succinctly summarised the reasons why you should ride back with him to Holm.’
And so they did, reaching the castle an hour later. It had been one of the order’s castles for twenty-six years and in that time it had gone from being a pagan timber stronghold to a mighty citadel of stone. Surrounded on three sides by a wide, deep moat and on the other by the waters of the Dvina, its ten-feet-thick walls surrounded a courtyard a hundred and thirty feet in length and one hundred feet wide. As at Wenden the towers flew the flags of the Sword Brothers and a huge banner of the order hung over the entrance of the large gatehouse.
After they had attended Nones prayers in the large stone chapel the three friends stood on the battlements looking south across the blue waters of the Dvina. There were now boats on the waterway, river vessels carrying goods from Novgorod, Polotsk and the Lithuanian kingdoms for sale in Riga or onward transportation to Lübeck. Most were powered by a combination of oars and sails, though a few of the large, more rounded boats were moving under sail power only. It was a beautiful scene, the blue of the Dvina and the black shapes of the boats set against the greens, reds and gold of the unending forests of Semgallia.
‘I wonder what is happening south of the river,’ mused Anton.
‘Master Godfrey said that peace reigns among the Lithuanian kingdoms,’ answered Hans.
‘Let us pray it does not last,’ said Conrad. ‘Now that the pox has passed Livonia might become a tempting target for the Lithuanians.’
*****
Conrad’s prayers were answered because the peace that reigned in Lithuania was only the prelude to a holy war. A war declared by the aged
Kriviu Krivaitis
and preached by his priests in every village and stronghold. The August and September harvests were gathered in and then the village elders mustered their levies. They brought their men to the assembly points assigned by the princes whose lands they worked and then marched to where their duke had planted his banner. The place assigned by the head priest to be the location where the dukes would gather was the site where his heir had been brutally murdered by Duke Arturus. This meant that it was the end of October before the holy army had assembled. But such was the size of the force that gathered at the Kur border that it was commonly believed that there would be no battle, just a triumphant march to Arturus’ stronghold at Talsi, which would be stormed with ease.
The largest contingent was that of Duke Butantas: two thousand horse and five thousand warriors on foot. Duke Viesthard, whose kingdom had been the target of many Kur raids, would have liked to match these numbers but his people had suffered at the hands of both Arturus and the Christians. He therefore could muster only five hundred horse and two thousand foot. It took much persuasion on Rasa’s part to convince her husband that to take the field against Arturus was an honourable thing. In the end Selonia and Nalsen sent a thousand horsemen and three thousand warriors on foot. Vsevolod ensured that his Russian guards surrounded him at all times. He also badgered Aras to impress on the commanders of his horsemen that their first loyalty was to the husband of Princess Rasa. For his part Prince Mindaugas thought the whole campaign akin to a pilgrimage, and he and Prince Ykintas pledged their allegiance to each other and dreamt of glory.
The last to arrive was Prince Kitenis at the head of a thousand mounted Aukstaitijans and three thousand foot soldiers. Thus were four and half thousand horsemen and thirteen thousand foot gathered around the ancient hill fort of Dobele. The army marched west on the last day of October, though the entire morning was spent with dozens of
Kriviai
going among the soldiery blessing every
spisa
, spear and sword. Vsevolod was beside himself with boredom but the warriors loved it. His misery was complete when it began to rain, which quickly turned the ground to mud.
After two days the army had reached the lush valley of the Abava River, a waterway some forty paces wide but shallow enough for a man to wade across with ease. And there, in a large area of open ground, the dukes found the army of Arturus, the left flank of its black ranks anchored on the river. The despatch of scouts revealed it to be numerically inferior to its opponents, especially with regard to the horsemen that made up the Kur right wing. A hurried council of war decided upon the tactics that would win the day. The foot would assault the Kur foot drawn up in the centre while the horsemen, massed on the left flank, would crush their mounted opponents and then sweep around the flank of the Kur foot to envelop Arturus’ army. Ykintas pledged to cut off the head of the Kur leader and send it as a present to the
Kriviu Krivaitis
.