The Sword Brothers (63 page)

Read The Sword Brothers Online

Authors: Peter Darman

Tags: #Historical, #War, #Crusades, #Military, #Action, #1200s, #Adventure

‘We leave in the
morning,’ announced the grand duke, the juices from a piece of
roasted pork dripping onto his beard.

‘We will not assault
Pskov?’ said Stecse in surprise, a soldier offering him more meat
from a platter.

Daugerutis shook his
head. ‘It’s surrounded on three sides by water and on its landward
side there are strong walls and a deep moat. It would be madness to
attempt an assault.’

‘A siege then?’ asked
another of his commanders.

‘Sieges take a long
time,’ answered the grand duke. ‘Autumn will soon be here and I
have no doubt that Mstislav is on his way.’

He beckoned over the
soldier with the platter. ‘Besides, I have no desire to occupy
Pskov. What would I do with a Russian city over a hundred miles
from my own kingdom?’

‘Burn it to the
ground’ suggested Stecse. The others laughed.

‘We have done enough
burning,’ said the grand duke. He looked at the son of Stecse
sitting beside his father. The boy sat in silence, occasionally
looking at the fearsome warrior chiefs around the table.

‘Well, young
Mindaugas,’ said the grand duke, throwing a bone to the floor, ‘how
do you like your first campaign.’

‘It is very loud,
lord.’

Daugerutis gave a
great belly laugh. ‘Ha! A good answer. Your ears will get
accustomed to the screams of men having their guts ripped out, have
no fear.’

But Mindaugas was not
thinking about the battle. He and his father had arrived on the
field late in that day, when the Pskov militia was covering the
retreat of the boyars back to the city. He was referring to the
roaring of the flames when the Lithuanians had fired villages and
incinerated people inside churches. He had found it fascinating,
particularly watching people’s death throes when they changed from
terrified, writhing individuals who begged for life to still
corpses with glazed, unblinking eyes and frozen expressions.
Fascinating.

‘To burn our way to
the gates of Pskov is triumph enough,’ said the grand duke
contentedly. He looked at the hardened faces around him. ‘You have
all fought well and obeyed my orders to kill and burn. As a reward
I give you permission to take as many slaves and livestock as you
wish on the return journey.’

They looked at each
other in confusion. Stecse articulated their thoughts.

‘Those Russians who
did not fall under our swords are either in Pskov or hiding in the
neighbouring forests, lord.’

‘And we killed all
their livestock on the way here,’ said another.

The serving soldier
brought another platter heaped with sizzling meat, the grand duke
taking a large slice and shoving it into his mouth.

‘I came here to lay
waste a large part of Novgorodian territory, which I have done. Now
I authorise you to plunder Livonia to fill your halls with slaves
to serve you at your tables and keep your beds warm.’

‘Livonia, lord?’
queried Stecse.

The grand duke smiled
slyly. ‘The crusaders were weak to allow me to cross the Dvina. Now
they will learn the price of their weakness as I empty Caupo’s
villages of their children and womenfolk. Next year I will cross
the Dvina and make war upon the bishop. This I pledge.’

They all cheered and
thanked the grand duke for his generosity. To return from campaign
with a great haul of booty was to win prestige among the Lithuanian
people, and slaves were the greatest prizes of all.

The grand duke led his
horsemen south the next morning, the Lithuanians breaking camp in
the pre-dawn light and heading south to retrace the route they had
taken to reach Pskov. They moved fast, covering twenty miles the
first day and a similar distance the day after to keep any pursuers
at a safe distance. It was only when the horses of his warriors
were drinking from the cool waters of Lake Lubans, forty miles
north of the Dvina, did the pace slacken. The surface of the lake
was covered in migratory waterfowl.

The grand duke
established his camp on the southern shore of the lake while his
warlords led a dozen raiding parties west into Livonia. Whereas
before they were intent on murder and destruction, this time they
were resolved to capture slaves. They did this by creating
diversions: half of a party would make themselves very visible on
the outskirts of a village and make a lot of noise. The menfolk
would arm themselves and march out to do battle with the raiders,
the latter retreating in the face of the village elder and his men,
leading them ever further away from their homes. The other half of
the raiders, having hidden themselves among trees on the other side
of the settlement, would ride into the village and capture as many
women and children as time allowed before fleeing. So speedy was
their assault and retreat that there was no time for rape or
killing the elderly. Though the villages were filled with goats and
pigs and cows and sheep grazed in the fields, the raiders did not
bother with livestock. But they reaped a rich harvest of
slaves.

Grand Duke Daugerutis
had taken eight thousand horsemen across the Dvina to raid
Novgorodian territory. When he recrossed the river he had with him
five thousand, four hundred warriors. Six hundred had died during
the expedition, most during the battle before Pskov, but the other
two thousand were with Prince Stecse as they headed directly south
into the Principality of Gerzika. The prince had sent prior warning
to Vsevolod that he was entering his territory with a large party
of his father-in-law’s soldiers. But the ruler of Gerzika was far
from amused when he met the Lithuanians at a spot on the Dvina five
miles north of his city.

The Lithuanian tents
filled the riverbank for hundreds of yards, extending inland for a
quarter of a mile. As Vsevolod rode among them with his escort he
also noticed groups of women and children, tied together with
guards watching over them. The sullen and apprehensive mood among
these captives contrasted sharply with the relaxed atmosphere in
the camp.

Vsevolod was escorted
to the tent of Prince Stecse located in the centre of the camp.
Warriors were grooming their horses, others cleaning their armour,
sharpening their swords or engaging in wrestling matches. The ruler
of Gerzika sneered at their love for the base things in life but
was fuming that they had wandered into his territory uninvited.

‘The grand duke
thought it better to cross the river here, away from the prying
eyes of the garrison of Kokenhusen,’ explained Stecse who ordered
Mindaugas to bring a stool for Vsevolod to sit on.

‘Taking Livs as slaves
will place me in a very difficult position with the bishop,’
complained Vsevolod.

‘Livs?’ said Stecse
incredulously.

‘Do you take me for a
fool?’ snapped Vsevolod.

Stecse did, and more.
‘Of course not, my lord.’

‘Your captives are
Livs. You have violated the terms of the agreement I brokered with
the bishop.’

Fifty paces away a
great cheer erupted as a wrestling match between two fat monsters
stripped to the waist ended when one slammed the other on his back
and then fell on top of him to pin him to the ground. Vsevolod was
disgusted as the rank smell of warriors who had not bathed in weeks
reached his nostrils.

‘The agreement allowed
the grand duke to cross the river and make war upon the
Novgorodians,’ said Stecse casually. ‘Slaves are taken in war. The
crusaders should know that.’

‘When Riga learns of
what you have done….’

‘What the
grand
duke
has done,’ Stecse corrected him.

‘The bishop will be
very angry and will most likely send his soldiers against the grand
duke.’

Stecse nodded. ‘Most
likely.’

‘You seemed
unconcerned by such a prospect,’ said Vsevolod.

‘Perhaps the grand
duke will cross the river and make war against the crusaders
himself.’

Vsevolod knew that
Stecse did not have the brains to think of such a thing
himself.

‘The grand duke has
told you this?’

‘Perhaps you should
speak to your father-in-law yourself,’ answered Stecse
evasively.

‘That would violate
the peace treaty,’ said Vsevolod.

‘And interrupt your
profitable trade with Riga, no doubt’ said Stecse casually.

‘You dare to suggest
that I place profit above my loyalty to the grand duke?’

‘I suggest nothing,
lord,’ replied Stecse, ‘only observe that the grand duke regards
the bishop and his followers as weak. And that next time he will
not ask their permission to cross the river.’

‘And when will that
be?’

Stecse shrugged. ‘I am
not party to the grand duke’s decisions, lord.’

Vsevolod realised that
this upstart knew when the grand duke would cross the Dvina and
Stecse knew that Vsevolod knew that he did. Vsevolod stood.

‘You and your captives
will be gone from my territory tomorrow.’

Stecse remained
seated. ‘As you wish, my lord.’

Vsevolod waved over
the soldier who was holding his horse. He hoisted himself into the
saddle.

‘You underestimate
both the bishop and the crusaders, prince. You think that because
they are currently in a weakened state that they will always be so,
but you are wrong.’

‘Then tell the grand
duke, my lord.’

Vsevolod tugged on his
reins. ‘I shall, you can be certain of that. Remember, Prince
Stecse, you have one day to leave my kingdom.’

The Lithuanians
crossed the Dvina the next morning, taking their thousand Liv
slaves with them.

*****

Caupo paced up and
down in the withdrawing chamber of the bishop’s palace as Thalibald
looked on. The bishop was seated in a plush chair next to
Archdeacon Stefan, who looked most uncomfortable. After his return
to Riga the bishop had been informed of Grand Duke Daugerutis’ raid
into Novgorodian territory and subsequent assault upon Livonia. The
elders of the villages that had lost their children and womenfolk
had pleaded with their king to be allowed to cross over the Dvina
to get their people back.

‘I cannot allow that,
my friend,’ said the bishop. ‘We must have peace in order to
rebuild our strength. There is little merit in creating peace in
the north to then make war in the south.’

‘My elders cry out for
revenge,’ snapped Caupo.

‘Revenge is a most
unattractive trait,’ remarked Stefan haughtily.

The bishop held up a
hand to his subordinate as Caupo stopped pacing and glared at the
archdeacon. ‘If you had not signed a treaty with the Lithuanians,
archdeacon, then my warriors would not now be without their wives
and children. They and I must have justice, lord bishop.’

Bishop Albert looked
with sad eyes at his friend. ‘What Grand Duke Daugerutis has done
is inexcusable and has imperilled his soul, of that I have no
doubt. But I cannot sanction the opening of hostilities against the
Lithuanians. Our forces are depleted and weakened and require rest
and recuperation.’

‘Perhaps it is the
will of God,’ remarked Stefan.

The bishop and Caupo
looked at him in confusion. Stefan smiled at Caupo.

‘Forgive me, lord
king, but am I correct in thinking that the villages that were
raided by the Lithuanians recently are the same ones that supplied
warriors to aid Prince Vetseke in his rebellion against the
bishop.’

Caupo looked at
Thalibald and then Stefan. ‘I fail to see that has any bearing on
anything.’

Stefan brought his
hands together. ‘I am a poor shepherd of the Lord, majesty, but
even I can discern divine retribution at work. Perhaps if the
villagers had not raised their hands against the bishop the Lord
would not have sent the Lithuanians to punish them.’

Caupo was outraged.
‘Lord bishop, I must protest.’

Albert held up his
hands to placate the king. ‘We cannot presume to know the mind of
God, archdeacon, so it is the height of frivolity to engage in such
discussions.’

‘My men are clamouring
to cross the river,’ said Caupo tersely.

‘That I cannot allow,’
said the bishop firmly.

Caupo’s face reddened
with anger. ‘Lord bishop, I cannot stand idly by while my people
are abused and I am mocked.’

There was an awkward
silence as the bishop rested his chin on his thumbs, deep in
thought as Stefan stared out of the window.

‘We could buy them
back,’ suggested Thalibald.

The bishop looked at
him. ‘Buy them back?’

‘Riga is rich, lord
bishop,’ said Thalibald. ‘Its treasury fills with silver and gold
from the donations of noble crusaders and the trade on the
Dvina.’

Stefan stopped looking
out of the window. ‘Impossible!’

But the bishop was
intrigued. ‘You think Daugerutis would be receptive to such an
offer?’

‘A Lithuanian would
sell his own mother if the price was right,’ sneered Caupo.

‘Lord bishop,’ said
Stefan with alarm, ‘I really must protest.’

But Albert stopped his
words a second time. ‘I desire peace above all at this time. But I
agree with King Caupo that the atrocity committed against his
people cannot be allowed to pass without action.’

‘But, lord bishop,’
pleaded Stefan, ‘your cathedral.’

‘Can wait,’ said the
bishop. ‘I will authorise the release of the necessary funds with
which to purchase the lives of the innocents so cruelly snatched
from their homes.’

The colour drained
from Stefan’s cheeks as Caupo’s returned to its normal complexion.
The king laid a hand on his chest and bowed his head to the
bishop.

‘You are most just and
pious, lord.’

‘Soon I travel to
Germany,’ announced the bishop, ‘and would go with a clear
conscience.’ He looked at Stefan. ‘As it was my subordinate who
made the treaty with the Lithuanians and thus encouraged Grand Duke
Daugerutis to cross the Dvina, it is my responsibility to right the
wrongs that have been committed by the Lithuanians. Go and tell
your people, lord king, that their women and children will be
returned to them soon.’

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