*****
Grand Master Volquin sat with his head down as Bishop Albert paced around the withdrawing chamber of his palace. He clutched a letter that had arrived at Riga that very morning, and after reading it the ruler of Livonia had summoned Archdeacon Stefan, Abbot Bernhard, Manfred Nordheim, the Duke of Saxony and Grand Master Volquin to his residence.
The bishop waved the letter in the air. ‘Do you know what this is?’
Those at the table stared blankly back at him.
‘Then I shall tell you. It is a letter from King Valdemar informing me of a great victory over the Estonians.’
‘Praise be,’ said Stefan.
‘Yes,’ replied the bishop, ‘praise be indeed. But the king has also written that he intends to march south to complete the conquest of Estonia as soon as possible.’
Volquin looked up. ‘The conquest of Estonia? Does he not know that the Sword Brothers occupy Saccalia and intend to march north into Jerwen when circumstances are more favourable?’
The bishop crushed the letter in his hand. ‘Circumstances are very favourable for King Valdemar, grand master. Indeed, there appears to be nothing to prevent him seizing Jerwen, Saccalia and Ungannia should he so wish.’
Stefan raised a finger. ‘But, uncle.’
Albert glared at him.
‘That is, lord bishop,’ Stefan corrected himself. ‘Surely his Holiness the Pope granted you the honour of bringing Estonia into the Holy Church?’
Albert tossed the crumpled letter on to the table. ‘His majesty has kindly informed me that his Holiness has given him authority to subdue the Estonians.’
Stefan looked horrified though Bernhard seemed unsurprised.
‘So we were duped, lord bishop?’
Albert gave him a sardonic smile. ‘I would not use such a word when discussing King Valdemar, but I will say that he has combined his own interests with those of the Holy Father skilfully.’
‘Valdemar is a king first,’ said Bernhard, ‘and a crusader second.’
‘We should have marched north instead of into Lithuania,’ remarked Volquin bitterly, looking at Stefan as he did so.
‘But we did not,’ said the bishop. He retook his seat at the head of the table, a pained look etched on his chiselled features.
‘There is one more thing,’ he said softly. ‘The king also informed me that Bishop Theodoric, former Abbot of Dünamünde and friend of us all, was martyred in the battle with the Estonians.’
Bernhard looked shocked and Volquin lowered his head with sorrow.
‘A grievous loss,’ said the former.
‘Indeed so,’ remarked the Duke of Saxony, ‘and just as the Danes have avenged his death so we should look to punish the Semgallians for their recent despicable treachery.’
‘I agree,’ said Volquin. ‘That we had to retreat back across the Dvina was bad enough, but the triumph of the Danes has only magnified our failure.’
He looked at Nordheim. ‘It was folly of the most extreme kind to have supplied the Semgallians with crossbows, and instructors to show them how to use them.’
Stefan looked uncomfortable but Nordheim was unconcerned. He had been in many tight spots during his colourful career and this one paled into significance compared to the others. He looked suitably chastened.
‘The pagans can be volatile and unpredictable, grand master, I agree. But while you and the other valiant commanders of the Sword Brothers were fighting Lembit in the north it was considered prudent to incite the Lithuanians to fight among themselves. Better that than uniting and crossing the Dvina to lay waste Livonia.’
‘Yes, yes,’ added Stefan, ‘much better.’
‘What is done is done,’ said Bishop Albert irritably. ‘We must look to the future rather than analysing past mistakes.’
‘Quite right,’ said Stefan forcefully.
His uncle froze him with a stare. ‘Though mistakes were undoubtedly made.’
Volquin laughed at the ridiculous figure that was Riga’s governor, who now squirmed like a worm wriggling on the end of a fisherman’s hook. The bishop was a fine man but when his nephew had been born the midwife should have thrown him away and kept the afterbirth. He laughed at the notion.
‘Would you care to share your merriment with us, grand master?’ asked Bishop Albert.
Volquin was sorely tempted. ‘No. Apologies, lord bishop.’
‘Very well,’ continued the bishop. ‘Our first priority is to recross the Dvina and capture the enemy stronghold of Mesoten. The pagans cannot be allowed to believe that they can chase a Christian army out of their godless land. I will return to Germany to preach a new crusade in Semgallia that will take place after we have celebrated the birth of Christ.’
‘At least recruitment should not be a problem when news reaches Germany of our reverse in Semgallia,’ said Bernhard. He rubbed his chin. ‘Unfortunately the same news may embolden King Valdemar to seize more territory than he is entitled to.’
‘In what way?’ asked the bishop.
‘He will take advantage of our inability to be in two places at the same time,’ Volquin answered for the abbot.
‘But surely,’ interrupted Stefan, smiling at the Duke of Saxony, ‘those crusaders under the command of our most gracious duke can march north to consolidate our possessions in Estonia.’
The crusader army had recrossed the Dvina at Holm where it established a camp around the castle, though the garrisons of the other Sword Brother citadels had returned to their respective castles.
‘The army needs to stay at Holm,’ said Volquin. ‘If the Semgallians, or indeed the Kurs, learn that it has marched north they may be tempted to cross over and raid Livonia. I am sure you would not want that, archdeacon.’
Stefan blanched in alarm. ‘No, not at all.’
Bishop Albert sighed loudly. ‘Then we can do nothing to prevent the Danes swallowing the whole of Estonia? All the blood spilt and good men’s lives wasted for nothing?’
‘It is a pity there is no army in the north that can act as a deterrent to Danish greed,’ mused the duke.
Everyone sank into silence. Bishop Albert sat slumped in his chair, visibly diminished by the turn of events that had occurred in Livonia. After the great victory over Lembit he thought that Estonia would fall into the church’s lap like a ripened fruit. But instead too few crusaders had arrived in the aftermath of St Matthew’s Day and so northern Estonia remained beyond the church’s reach. The Sword Brothers had managed to alienate the Ungannians and his nephew’s efforts at statecraft had resulted in a calamitous reverse in Semgallia. He saw his lifelong calling disappearing before his eyes and he was angry: angry with the Sword Brothers, angry with his nephew, but above all angry with himself for allowing himself to become the agent of his own downfall by soliciting the aid of the Danish king. Duped, that is what he had been.
‘Valdemar comes like a ravenous wolf into our world,’ declared Bernhard.
‘The Army of the Wolf,’ muttered Volquin.
The others looked at him with perplexed expressions.
Volquin smiled to himself.
‘If you have some good news, grand master,’ said the bishop, ‘then please share it with us, for such tidings are in short supply in Riga at this present time.’
‘Master Rudolf at Wenden told me an intriguing tale before he left to return to Wenden,’ replied Volquin. ‘When the Russian heretics and their barbarian allies ravaged northern Livonia the garrisons of Lehola and Fellin were in great danger.’
Stefan yawned with boredom while Nordheim looked into his empty silver flagon.
The Duke of Saxony was confused. ‘Lehola, Fellin?’
‘Former strongholds of the pagan leader Lembit,’ explained the bishop, ‘currently garrisoned by a brave crusader from England named Sir Richard Bruffingham and a small number of hardy knights. Please continue, grand master.’
Volquin smiled at the bishop. ‘Master Rudolf realised that Sir Richard would be in grave danger and so was intent on sending a relief force to Lehola and Fellin. But Wenden itself was imperilled and he could spare no troops from the garrison, while Treiden was also besieged, which also had to be relieved.’
‘But you informed me that Master Rudolf had relieved Sir Richard,’ interrupted the bishop.
Volquin nodded. ‘Indeed, lord bishop, but it was not Master Rudolf who relieved Sir Richard but four of his brother knights.’
‘Four?’ said the duke with surprise.
‘That is correct, my lord,’ replied Volquin. ‘Or to be precise, Conrad Wolff and three others.’
The bishop’s ears pricked up. ‘Conrad Wolff?’
‘The man who saved you outside Riga?’ said Bernhard.
‘And who rid the world of Lembit by his own hands at our victory on St Matthew’s Day,’ added the bishop.
‘It was Brother Conrad who led the relief of Lehola,’ said Volquin, ‘raising the siege and going on to harass the enemy as they fled east.’
The duke chuckled. ‘I am aware, grand master, that the Sword Brothers had earned a deserved reputation for military prowess, but even you must concede that perhaps the tale of four of your brother knights raising a siege and inflicting a defeat on an army of thousands is a little far-fetched.’
‘They were not alone, lord,’ said Volquin. ‘Brother Conrad earned the trust of a disparate group of Saccalians, Jerwen and Rotalians, former enemies who accepted him as their commander. Because of his given name they believe, simple souls that they are, that Conrad Wolff is imbued with the spirit of the immortal wolf that safeguards the Estonian people.’
Stefan laughed. ‘You surely do not condone such witchcraft, grand master?’
‘Of course not,’ snapped Volquin irritably. ‘But the point is that Brother Conrad was trusted by the Estonians and accepted as their leader. They called his force “the Army of the Wolf”, which went on to give valuable service against the enemy. I believe that it could be of use to us as a counterweight to Danish ambitions.’
‘Where is this “army” now, grand master?’ enquired the bishop.
‘Camped at Wenden,’ replied Volquin.
‘And your proposal?’ probed the bishop.
Volquin’s eyes burned with enthusiasm. ‘Indulge it. Give Brother Conrad a formal position of command over it so he may attract more recruits to his standard. Reinforced by the garrison of Wenden and Sir Richard’s knights King Valdemar will think twice about seizing the whole of Estonia.’
‘A bold plan,’ said Bernhard admiringly.
Stefan’s eyes narrowed as he perceived a chance to make the grand master look foolish.
‘Bold but misconceived. Grand master, are you really recommending raising an army of pagans from among a people that we have spent a considerable amount of time, money and lives subduing? One wonders what His Holiness would think of such a thing?’
‘He would approve of taking measures that preserves God’s kingdom,’ growled Volquin.
Stefan looked surprised. ‘Really, grand master? If he has given Estonia to King Valdemar then surely we must do nothing to impede the implementation of the Holy Father’s wishes.’
‘I have no knowledge that the Holy Father has granted Estonia to King Valdemar,’ said Bishop Albert, ‘and in any case the King of Denmark crusades on behalf of the Holy Church and not to expand Danish territory. Any land he takes whilst on crusade belongs to the Holy Church, which by definition means he must transfer it to the control of Livonia, which is after all God’s kingdom on earth.’
‘We must have an army in the north to act as a counterweight to Danish ambitions,’ stated Volquin bluntly.
‘I am apt to agree,’ said the bishop, ‘especially as our attention for the foreseeable future will be on Semgallia.’
‘What about Sir Richard?’ asked the duke. ‘Will he not expect to be made commander of this pagan army?’
‘He has fought beside Brother Conrad on several occasions,’ replied Volquin, ‘and knows him to be a valiant and pious knight. Besides, Sir Richard has the command of Lehola and Fellin to occupy him and if the Danes march south he will have his hands full keeping them out of Saccalia.’
‘Are you really suggesting, grand master,’ said Stefan dismissively, ‘that the King of Denmark will fight another Christian lord?’
The Duke of Saxony guffawed. ‘Why not? He has spent years doing that in Germany.’
‘The fact is that there is nothing to stop him marching all the way to the gates of this city if he so desires,’ remarked Bernhard.
The bishop placed his hands together. ‘That is why we must have a counterweight, as the grand master has suggested.’
*****
But as summer gave way to autumn the Danes made no advance south from Lyndanise, being content to send parties of horsemen to steal food and livestock from the local population. Angry that the Bishop of Estonia had been killed during the pagan attack on their camp, the crusaders made no attempt to curtail their more base instincts, indulging in rape and murder as they ventured far and wide. Their autumn of rapine had two consequences: the population of Harrien and Wierland soon came to loathe the Danes, notwithstanding that the majority of atrocities was carried out by the lesser knights of Count Henry of Schwerin, and many of the villagers who lived near Lyndanise fled their homes to seek sanctuary in Jerwen or Saccalia. They avoided Rotalia altogether, which was under the tyranny of Sigurd and his Oeselians.