by Peter Darman
‘That is part of the agreement I have with their leader,’ replied Lembit, drinking beer from a wooden cup in the long hut of a village elder who had fled with his people. The fire in the stone hearth crackled and spat and filled the hut with smoke.
‘Don’t put damp wood on the fire, you idiots,’ Lembit barked to the two wolf shields tending the fire, his eyes smarting from the smoke. ‘Otherwise I’ll make you sleep outside in the snow with the others.’
‘What of this Kalju, the leader of the Ungannian people?’ said Sigurd. ‘What will you do with him?’
‘Better for him that he dies in the fighting,’ said Lembit. ‘He will discover what happens when he breaks an agreement with me. The defenders of Odenpah will also be put to the sword as an example to the rest of Ungannia.’
‘And then that kingdom will belong to the Russians,’ said Sigurd.
Lembit thought of the Russians fighting the crusaders and trying to hold a land that the Bishop of Riga desired.
‘Can’t be helped.’
*****
Lembit believed the Ungannians who had fled to the small hill forts that dotted Kalju’s land to be lambs that could be left until Odenpah had been taken. They posed little threat to the thousands of warriors who tramped through the snow, many of them wearing snowshoes made from the supple branches of evergreens. Most of the hill forts were small affairs that could accommodate perhaps a hundred people behind their crude timber walls. They could have been stormed with ease but that would have taken time and Lembit wanted affairs concluded with Kalju long before the spring came. And so the long column of warriors, sleds and ponies loaded with supplies ignored the forts that sat on the hills where village elders and their people prayed to their gods for safe deliverance from the invaders.
But when it is not snowing Estonia is blessed with bright sunshine on cold winter days when the sun glinted off whetted spear points and burnished helmets. Lembit’s army would not have detected the flashes of light coming from the hill forts as the elders and chiefs used polished silver to reflect the sun’s rays to send signals to other strongholds on high ground. By the time Lembit was a week away from Odenpah Kalju knew the exact location and approximate strength of the invading army advancing from the west. That was Lembit’s first mistake. And before the sky thickened with grey clouds holding thick snowfall he had also learnt of the size and composition of the Russian army marching from the east.
‘They will be here in a week,’ said Kalju after being told the latest news that had been relayed by his signalling system.
Once more Rudolf and Conrad acted as interpreters as the chief, Eha, two of Kalju’s most senior men, Bertram, Mathias and Sir Richard gathered in his great hall to drink warm milk and take shelter from the biting cold. The mutual suspicion that had existed between the chiefs and crusaders had abated greatly since the latter’s arrival at the fort, not least because all of them soon directed their hostility towards the man who seemed to have assumed command over all of them, and who, realising this, had turned into something of a taskmaster. The atmosphere in the hall was relaxed without his presence as chiefs and crusaders nodded and grinned at each other and drank their milk.
‘That is a lot of men,’ remarked Bertram.
‘Perhaps we could attack at least one of the enemy columns before they combined,’ mused Mathias. ‘Take the brother knights and sergeants and hit them hard.’ He smiled at Sir Richard. ‘And your horsemen too, my lord.’
Rudolf translated the words to Kalju. ‘Who would you attack?’
‘The Russians,’ answered Bertram. ‘They are the larger force and will be more strung out.’
The doors opened and in swept Odenpah’s taskmaster. Everyone groaned when they saw him.
‘Ah,’ said Thaddeus, taking a cup from a wooden tray held by one of the servants, ‘warm milk. Excellent.’
He gulped it down and looked at the figures sitting round the large trestle table. He saw Conrad standing by Rudolf.
‘Translate for me, Conrad.
‘I have organised rotas for the scattering of the spoil from the ditch that has been dug, rather tardily I might add.’
Kalju looked confused. ‘Rotas?’
Thaddeus smiled. ‘Indeed, lord. Organisation may be a necessary evil but it is vital for success.’
‘Why do we need to scatter the spoil?’ asked Sir Richard.
‘I would have thought that was obvious,’ remarked Thaddeus. ‘When the enemy arrive they must be convinced that there is no moat. If they see a great hump surrounding the fort even the simplest among them will discern that the earth has been dug. Quite obvious.’
‘We have just learned that two enemy columns are a week away,’ said Mathias, ‘so you had better get your rotas to fill the moat with water.’
They all chuckled but Thaddeus was not amused. ‘Why would I wish to fill the moat with water?’
This stopped their chuckling.
‘Then why in the name of all that’s holy did we dig it?’ demanded Sir Richard.
Thaddeus began to pace up and down as he had done many times since his arrival at the fort, explaining that if the moat was filled with water it would freeze, which would provide a hard surface upon which to stand.
‘The ice will break if anything heavy is rested on it,’ said an exasperated Sir Richard.
Thaddeus smiled knowingly at him. ‘Having spent a number of years in this land, my lord, I have knowledge of how the cold can turn water into thick ice. You must trust me in this.’
‘Your lords are thinking of riding out to attack the Russians,’ remarked Kalju.
Conrad translated and Thaddeus was horrified. ‘Leave the fort? Out of the question. For one thing you will weaken the workforce and there is still much to do.’
‘We did not come here to shovel dirt,’ snapped Sir Richard.
‘No, my lord,’ replied Thaddeus calmly, ‘you came here to defeat the enemy and if you do things my way your chances of doing so will increase substantially.’
Sir Richard looked away as Mathias looked at Bertram, who shrugged. Thaddeus brought his hands together in front of him and walked towards Kalju.
‘I do not suppose, my lord, that you would reconsider your decision not to send the women, children and the old away.’
‘You suppose right,’ said Eha answering for her husband.
Thaddeus smiled most graciously at her. ‘Then I would ask your husband to organise hunting parties to gather as much food as possible so we can withstand a siege.’
Kalju nodded. ‘It shall be so.’
‘And men to fish on the ice on the nearby lakes also,’ added Thaddeus. ‘This will require a slight alteration to the rotas, of course. Still, should be possible. A week before the enemy arrives, you say?’
Kalju nodded.
Thaddeus looked at the others sitting at the table. ‘Then I suggest, my lords, that we all attend to our duties forthwith. Time is of the essence.’
He bowed his head to Kalju and Eha, turned on his heels and strode from the hall. A grumbling Sir Richard, Bertram and Mathias followed, Kalju sending his two chiefs after them. Conrad made to walk with Rudolf from the chief’s presence when Eha called after them.
‘Conrad.’
He turned. ‘Lady?’
‘That old man, Thaddeus, is he a holy man?’
‘No, lady.’
‘Then why do your lords obey him?’
‘A question I have often asked myself,’ said Rudolf.
‘It is because he is very knowledgeable when it comes to defensive warfare and sieges, lady,’ said Conrad. ‘It was his wisdom that led to the fall of…’
He was going to refer to the fall of Lehola but knew that at that time Kalju was an ally of Lembit.
‘Continue,’ said Eha.
Conrad glanced at Kalju. ‘It was Master Thaddeus’ knowledge that resulted in the fall of Lehola.’
‘To think that one old man could reduce such a mighty fortress,’ said Kalju thoughtfully. ‘He is truly powerfu
l and wise.’
He rose from his seat and walked to the hall’s doors.
‘Where are you going?’ Eha called after him.
‘To see Master Thaddeus so I can receive his orders concerning the hunting and fishing parties.’
Eha laughed as he blew her a kiss and marched from the hall. She too went to rise, Conrad stepping forward and offering his hand to assist her. As she bent forward Conrad noticed the heavy silver necklace she was wearing, from which hung a large piece of amber. Eha saw him looking at it.
‘A gift from my sister.’
She stood and he released her hand.
‘She is in the fort?’ he asked.
Her eyes filled with hurt. ‘She is dead or at least I hope she is dead. She lived in a village on our southern border. It was raided one winter and all the menfolk were killed. The women and children were all taken. Slave traders, most likely.’
Conrad went pale. He felt physically sick as shame gripped him and he was unable to look Eha in the eye.
Conrad suddenly fell to his knees and took Eha’s hand.
‘I promise you, lady, that the enemy will not breach the walls of this fort and the women and children will be safe. This I swear in the name of God.’
Eha’s eyes opened wide with surprise and looked at Rudolf in confusion.
‘He is apt to make such gestures,’ remarked the brother knight.
Eha, delighted, raised Conrad up to his feet and kissed him on the cheek.
‘Many among my people believe that the crusaders are bloodthirsty barbarians but now I can see that this is false. There are obviously many fine warriors among them.’
Eha linked her arm in his and walked from the hall. She was smiling at him but he could have wept such was the self-reproach he felt.
That night, as he sat round the campfire with his companions, he told them of what had happened earlier.
‘This is our punishment for what we did at that village,’ said Conrad, staring into the fire.
‘You do not know that it was Kalju’s sister-in-law who was in the village,’ said Hans.
Conrad rounded on him. ‘Does that matter?’ He tugged at his surcoat. ‘We are supposed to be warriors of Christ, devoting our lives to truth and justice, not filthy slave traders.’
‘Henke says that pagans do not count and so it does not matter how we treat them,’ said Anton, trying to be helpful.
Conrad fixed him with a stare. ‘Henke is an animal. Do you believe what he says, Anton?’ He gestured at the fort bathed in moonlight. ‘Are the women and children in the fort less deserving of protection because they are pagans? Will you defend them with less vigour when the enemy comes on the advice of Henke?’
Anton shook his head and looked at his feet.
Conrad remembered the mournful look on the woman’s face as she was led away by the slave traders after the raid on the village.
‘Eha’s sister was among the captives we took; of that I am certain.’
‘It is God’s will we are here, Conrad,’ said Johann.
‘And God will ensure that we shall pay for our crimes,’ replied Conrad.
The next day, as the sun beat down on dozens of men hacking at the soil around the fort, on the advice of Master Bertram one of the polished silver signal mirrors was used to send a message to the nearest hill fort to the south. Once received it would in turn be relayed to the Ungannian fort nearest to Wenden. From there scouts would ride to the Sword Brother stronghold with a message for Master Berthold: enemy force very large, send reinforcements immediately.
*****
‘Our new allies,’ said Gleb, resting his hands on the saddle’s pommel. ‘Not much to look at, are they?’
Domash said nothing but sighed heavily and waved forward one of his mounted officers. His scouts had made contact with Lembit two hours earlier and both sides had agreed to rendezvous by the frozen surface of the Leevi, a small river located around six miles north of Odenpah. It flowed from the uplands near the fort east to Lake Peipus.
‘Come Gleb, let us meet our fellow conquerors.’
He nudged his horse forward, the officer and a dozen of his men falling in behind as Gleb also walked his horse forward.
‘Give the order to make camp,’ Domash called to another of his senior commanders. The foot soldiers escorting the sleds that carried supplies were at least two hours behind so it made sense to call a halt. There was flat ground either side of the river and the trees did not begin until around two hundred paces from the riverbank.
The Estonians were mostly on foot save for a group of warriors wearing helmets and mail armour, armed with spears, who sat on ponies directly ahead. One carried a standard of some sort but there was no wind and so it hung limply from its staff. His own horsemen filled the ground extending to the east but he could only see two relatively small groups of foot behind the mounted warriors, one carrying brightly coloured round shields, the other sporting wolf heads on their shields. As the foot soldiers moved to stand either side of the mounted men he saw blonde hair extending from beneath many of the helmets of the men with coloured shields. One of the men sitting on a pony took off his helmet and raised his hand. Shorter in stature than most of his companions, especially the oversized brute next to him, he had broad shoulders and long hair.
‘Greetings, friends. I am Lembit, leader of the Saccalian people.’
Domash raised his hand and also removed his helmet before answering in Estonian. ‘Domash Tverdislavich, Mayor of Pskov and deputy to Prince Mstislav of Novgorod.’
Both parties smiled politely and did their best to forget that they had spent more time fighting each other than being allies.
‘This is all you have?’ said Domash, looking at the warriors standing bored in the snow.
‘Our camp is two miles to the west,’ replied Lembit, who looked beyond the Russian to the horsemen standing in the snow. ‘You bring many horse?’
‘A few thousand,’ remarked Domash casually.
‘Not much use when storming a fort,’ sneered Jaak.
Lembit maintained his polite smile. ‘This is Lord Jaak, ruler of Jerwen, whose warriors will aid us in our assault.’
He then turned to Sigurd. ‘And this is Prince Sigurd who commands a large body of Oeselians.’
‘Oeselians?’ said Gleb in surprise upon hearing the word. ‘Are we going to eat any captives we take?’
The horsemen with Domash smiled but their commander was not amused and froze Gleb with a stare. Fortunately he had spoken in Russian and Lembit and his allies did not understand the language.
Domash nodded to Sigurd, who had removed his helmet, and to Jaak who had not.
‘What of the Ungannians?’ he asked.
‘Cowering in their hill forts,’ reported Lembit with satisfaction. ‘Kalju has dispersed his forces rather than concentrate them at Odenpah. I doubt if he has even a few hundred men to defend his stronghold.’
Domash nodded contentedly. ‘Will you give him an opportunity to surrender?’
Lembit laughed. ‘You do not bargain with traitors, mayor, you execute them. We shall storm Odenpah to make an example of Kalju. I will send his head to Prince Mstislav as a present.’
‘I am sure he will be touched,’ remarked Domash.
His gross underestimation of the enemy was Lembit’s second mistake.
*****
It snowed heavily during the night and early morning, so that by the time Lembit and his Russian allies arrived before Odenpah just after midday the ground all round the fort was a blanket of white. No sign of the crusader camp that had been dismantled the day before was visible, and the dry moat that encompassed three sides of the fort was also hidden from view. Kalju’s scouts had alerted their leader of the approach of the Estonians and Russians once they had arrived within five miles of the fort, the enemy’s progress having been exactly tracked by the signals from the other hill forts.
As soon as word reached Odenpah that the enemy was a day’s march away Master
Thaddeus put his plan into effect. The crusaders moved into the fort along with their wagons, horses and draught animals, pitching their tents between the inner and outer walls. It was very cramped, especially as Thaddeus’ engineers had set up the six mangonels in the same area: two behind the outer western wall, two on the other side of the compound behind the outer east wall, and the other two directly behind the gatehouse in the outer southern wall. The elderly, women and children were all moved to the higher, inner stronghold where they would not only be more removed from immediate danger but also be kept out of the way to allow the soldiers to do their work.
There were eight square timber towers along Odenpah’s outer perimeter wall and another four at each corner of the inner timber wall. The latter was reached by steps fashioned from great stone slabs that were positioned on the eastern side of the higher hill. These led to a single squat gate that gave access to the inner stronghold. The steps were steep and the gate deliberately narrow to prohibit horsemen from entering.
Master Thaddeus had given express orders that no crusaders, Sword Brothers or crossbowmen were to show themselves in the towers or on the battlements until he said so. Sir Richard grumbled at this but the chief engineer was insistent. He explained his reasoning as he stood with Kalju, Bertram, Mathias and Sir Richard in one of the towers that flanked the main gates as the enemy began to deploy around the fort. Conrad was in attendance in his role as translator for Master Thaddeus.
‘We must give the illusion of weakness,’ he said to Sir Richard whose unhappiness had increased at having to wear a fur-lined cap, thick woollen tunic and brown cloak so he resembled one of Kalju’s men. Bertram, Mathias and Conrad were similarly attired.
Kalju looked at the hundreds of men deploying to the south, west and east of his fort. ‘We are weak.’
His warriors filled the other towers but the battlements between them were empty.
Thaddeus shook his head. ‘Have no fear, my lord, it is within our interests for the enemy to take our bait.’
‘Bait?’ said Sir Richard, flicking a louse off his cloak.
Thaddeus pointed at the empty battlements between the towers. ‘What do you see, my lords?’
