Like Odenpah Lehola comprised an inner stronghold surrounded by an outer wall, within which were wooden huts, storerooms, stables and a blacksmith’s forge. The outer perimeter wall was four hundred yards in length and two hundred yards wide and was accessed by twin gates in the southern wall. Thirteen shingle-roofed towers were positioned along this outer timber wall with an additional four towers sited at each corner of the inner defensive wall. Inside these walls were more huts, stables, an armoury, storerooms and the great hall, which could feast five hundred men. One of the storerooms had been converted into a church, its thatched roof topped with a simple wooden cross.

  Sentries watched Conrad and the two novices walk their horses from the gates in the outer wall towards the inner stronghold. At the gates to the inner citadel one of the guards dashed towards the hall to announce the arrival of the Marshal of Estonia. Most of the guards on the walls and in the towers were veteran members of the Army of the Wolf and they instantly recognised the figure of the Sword Brother with light brown hair who had led them on many campaigns. The remaining guard at the gates raised his spear in salute as Conrad passed him, the breeze ruffling the banners flying from the towers: a white boar’s head with golden tusks on a blue background. The coat of arms of the Duke of Saccalia.

  The duke himself came from his hall as Conrad and the novices dismounted and stable hands led their mounts away. Sir Richard had always erred towards gauntness but now his frame had padded out somewhat, his round face appearing fuller and certainly healthier. He wore a broad grin as he walked up to Conrad and offered his hand.

  ‘This is a most welcome surprise.’

  ‘I came for your advice, your grace,’ said Conrad.

  After refreshments he and Conrad walked on Lehola’s ramparts, around them an unending sea of green forests with splashes of red and gold signifying the leaves of deciduous trees turning colour with the approach of autumn. Conrad told his friend about the meeting at Wenden and his plans to establish a force of horsemen to protect the Wierlanders.

  ‘You think these forest bandits warrant such a response, Conrad?’

  ‘If left alone they will continue their burning and looting and Wierland has suffered enough these past few years.’

  ‘You desire equipment from my armoury?’

  Conrad smiled. ‘No, your grace, I have the weapons and equipment, though it has come at a price. But I lack a man to command these horsemen. Hans and Anton would be natural choices but they are needed at Odenpah, and in any case they and I may be called away anytime if a new crusade against the Kurs is announced.’

  ‘Is there no one among the Sword Brothers to lead your horsemen?’ asked Sir Richard.

  ‘No one that Grand Master Volquin will spare. Besides, he considers Estonia to be my responsibility, which it is.’

  ‘Commanding mail knights is no small task, Conrad, especially if those knights are headstrong young Estonians.’

  Conrad rested his hands on the ancient timbers and stared out across Saccalia.

  ‘You see my dilemma, your grace.’

  Sir Richard stroked his clean-shaven chin.

  ‘There is one person who would be up to the task.’

  ‘Me?’

  Paul, the oldest squire in Estonia and Livonia and possibly the whole of Christendom, screwed up his face.

  ‘I can think of no one better qualified,’ said Sir Richard, ‘and neither can Conrad.’

  Paul, shorter, stouter and most certainly blunter than his lord, shook his head. He had been summoned to the great hall by his master to be informed of Conrad’s plan to establish a force of horsemen to counter the bandits of the Alutaguse. Paul had nodded approvingly but had been shocked when Sir Richard suggested that he should command this august force.

  ‘You have been in Estonia for years, Paul, and have served me longer and I can think of no man more suitably qualified. You know the land, its peoples and, more importantly, how mounted knights are trained, equipped and fight on the battlefield.’

  For once Paul was lost for words, his mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out.

  ‘There is no compulsion,’ Conrad reassured him, ‘but I would consider it a singular honour if you would take charge of these men.’

  ‘You would?’ said Paul softly.

  ‘Of course, this is an important mission and I would have a man who is respected throughout all Estonia to lead it.’

  Paul was genuinely humbled by the words of his master and Conrad. He was used to speaking his mind and throwing barbed comments around at will, safe in the knowledge that his responsibilities extended no further than ensuring his lord’s horse was fed and saddled, his armour rust free and his sword clean. But now he was faced with a new situation: to take the burden of command upon himself. He had fought beside his master in many battles and did not want for courage but he suddenly appeared nervous and uncertain.

  ‘I do not know if I could do what you ask of me.’

  Sir Richard stood and placed his hands on his squire’s shoulders.

  ‘Of course you can. I have faith in you and so does Conrad and that should be enough to convince you of your abilities. You cannot remain a squire forever.’

  ‘I can’t?’

  Until this moment Paul had always thought that he would remain a squire until his dotage, after which he would retire to a small cottage supplied by his lord. He was a commoner, a man whose trade had been a pubic executioner in England, a job so base that members of polite society did not even speak to him. But, as is often the case in the lives of men, fate had taken a hand and he had become squire to Sir Richard Bruffingham. His life had taken a further drastic deviation when he had followed his lord to Livonia, a land of forests, lakes and rivers not unlike England, though the winters were harsher and it rained a lot. He often debated with Sir Richard whether the crusader state was afflicted with more rain and both agreed that it was too close to call.

  He knew he would never become a knight because he was a man who had performed manual labour and had the wrong sort of lineage, being the son and grandson of commoners. And yet the fact that he had consistently displayed bravery on the field of battle had ennobled him of sorts. He was blunt and used coarse language too much but these shortcomings could be curbed. More important was that he had no physical deformity because knights were supposed to be not only the epitome of high virtues but also be fine physical examples.

  ‘Let me explain what is going to happen, Paul,’ said Sir Richard. ‘First of all you will take a bath, a long bath, after which you will come out of the water a new man, a man cleansed of his sins and rid of the impurities of your former life. Then you will go to your quarters and rest on a bed with clean linen.

  ‘And then, lord?’ asked Paul.

  Sir Richard smiled. ‘And then you will be a made a knight, Paul.’

  Conrad placed a hand on the squire’s shoulders. Paul, dumbfounded, meekly bowed his head and walked slowly from the hall. It was as if the rogue inside of him had been exorcised by Sir Richard’s weighty words.

  The next day the fort tingled with an air of excitement as news spread that Squire Paul was to be made a knight. After he had taken his bath in a nearby lake and rested the knights of Sir Richard’s entourage dressed Paul in a red tunic to symbolise his willingness to shed blood in defence of the Holy Church. They also gave him black linen hose to remind him of his mortality, a white belt as a symbol of purity and chastity and a red cloak so he could show his humility. Then he went into the small church to keep vigil for the night. The priest, an elderly tonsured Cistercian, accompanied him into the thatched building. After they had prayed together for two hours he left Paul alone for the night.

  By early morning the next day Lehola was filled with curious villagers, knights, lesser knights and their families and the other members of the garrison with their dependents. The inner compound became so crowded that Sir Richard had to order the gates shut while the knighting ceremony took place, much to the disappointment of those outside.

  Though he had spent the night in church the actual conferring of knighthood was not a religious ceremony. The priest was present of course and everyone knelt and bowed their heads when he said mass. Knighthood was not a religious rank but was conferred by knights who had shown bravery in battle. A mixture of Englishmen and Estonians, they ribbed Paul as they fitted gilded spurs to his boots and strapped a fine leather belt around his waist, the symbol of knighthood that was more important than a sword. And then the man he had loyally served for longer than either of them cared to remember stepped forward. Sir Richard held a sword in a scabbard that he passed to his loyal squire. With tears in his eyes Paul took it. Onlookers were similarly emotional as Sir Richard kissed him on the cheek and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. There was a mighty cheer as Paul became a knight.

  Conrad glanced at Arri and Jaan beside him, both of them engrossed in the ceremony and dreaming of the day when they would become brother knights. Conrad remembered his own knighting ceremony at Wenden. It seemed like yesterday. He smiled as men gathered around Paul and offered him their congratulations. Sir Richard had been right: Paul would make an excellent commander.

  He and Paul left Lehola the next day, Sir Richard having been generous in providing Conrad not only with his former squire but also three lesser knights to help train the new recruits, two-wheeled carts loaded with lances, tents and saddlery and a couple of farriers. They had their own cart carrying the tools of their trade: horseshoes, anvils and braziers.

  The days were cool and often wet but it took only three days to reach the fort at Laiuse, a simple four-walled empty timber structure having a single gated entrance.

  ‘What idiot decided this would be a suitable place for a garrison for horsemen?’ complained Paul.

  Conrad shifted uncomfortably in his saddle as Paul looked around the empty compound.

  ‘It is spacious and near water.’

  Paul laughed. ‘Everywhere in Estonia is near water.’

  Notwithstanding his initial reaction the new knight flung himself into his new command, ordering Conrad to send to Andres at Kassinurme not far to the south for carpenters and cut timber to construct stables.

  ‘We can live in tents but the horses need sturdier shelter, especially now that autumn is here. We need those carpenters.’

  They arrived within a week, Andres himself accompanying them along with fifty of his warriors and the thirty Jerwen recruits for Paul’s command. Paul made them camp outside the fort while he corralled the carpenters and told them exactly what he wanted.

  ‘Susi,’ said Andres, observing Paul forcefully telling his craftsmen what to do, ‘is not that man Sir Richard’s servant?’

  ‘He was,’ replied Conrad, ‘but Sir Richard made him a knight and he will command the horsemen based here. The others from Hillar and Riki will be gathering at Odenpah soon.’

  It was October before Paul had all his men and horses, by which time the weather had taken a turn for the worse. But at least Andres’ carpenters had fashioned stables for the horses, stout huts for the armoury and storerooms and another hut that would act as Paul’s command post. Though he decided to live in a tent along with his men until a more permanent barracks could be built. In the middle of the month a convoy of wagons arrived from Reval, escorted by Lukas and a score of mounted sergeants and a detachment of spearmen and crossbowmen. The riders were leading a hundred horses, all palfreys that had been captured when Reval had been taken by the Sword Brothers two years before.

  The rain was lashing down when Lukas showed Conrad and Paul what was under the covers on the carts.

  ‘When Reval fell the fort yielded much equipment. I bring you caparisons, helms, maces, lances, swords, mail armour, scabbards and surcoats. The surcoats and caparisons have had all the badges of insignia removed, as Grand Master Volquin does not want your men masquerading as nobility. There are also blankets and capes to stop them and their horses from freezing to death.’

  Paul was impressed by the supplies though Conrad less so.

  ‘Grand Master Volquin gave me the impression that he was supplying me with weapons and equipment from the order’s armouries. This has cost me thirty tons of grain.’

  Lukas laughed. ‘It has cost Estonia thirty tons of grain, Conrad. You heard what Volquin said at Wenden – the order’s finances are stretched. The grain that you supplied will be sold to merchants in Riga so we can still pay our mercenaries.’

  ‘Reval will be a source of great wealth,’ predicted Conrad.

  ‘In time, perhaps, but for the moment we have to cut our cloth accordingly. Besides, this equipment is as good as any the order has. The Danes did not deprive themselves when it came to military equipment.’

  Conrad looked at the horses being taken to the new stables by the Estonian warriors.

  ‘You kept all the Danish destriers, then?’

  ‘Naturally. They are expensive to maintain, you know that. Besides, looking around this miserable pile of sticks I doubt they would last the winter if I had brought them.’

  Lukas returned to Reval and a delighted garrison was kitted out in mail armour, red surcoats, wooden shields faced with leather painted in quarters of red and white and red caparisons covering their horses. A hundred men stood in a line in the middle of the fort, each man holding the reins of his horse. It was as usual an overcast day, a slight northerly breeze enough to chill the air. Conrad stood with Paul as he lectured his charges. He was clutching a lance that he held aloft.

  ‘First lesson. This is a lance not a spear. You can all ride but until now you have ridden to the battlefield where you dismounted to fight in a shield wall. But you are here to learn how to fight in the saddle as part of a disciplined unit.

  ‘A lance with a man and horse behind it has great force which is concentrated at the point. Learn how to handle a lance properly and you can drive it through a man and his friend standing behind him.’

  The warriors raised their lances and cheered.

  ‘Well, then, let’s begin.’

  While Paul’s men practised on the quintain – a vertical post with a horizontal beam swivelling on top, a shield at one end and a weighted sack on the other – and tilting at the rings, Conrad and the newly arrived Hans and Anton undertook tours of the local villages. Most were deserted, a consequence of raids by the followers of King Kalev, but a few further west of the Alutaguse were still occupied. Like most of Estonia the land was heavily wooded with pine and spruce, with long drumlins and oval lakes scattered in between. With them rode a pair of Wierlander scouts, men who with their families had taken refuge in Jerwen when the Danes had plundered their land. Dressed in civilian attire they rode into the villages first so as not to frighten away the inhabitants. Unlike the Sword Brothers they rode Estonian ponies, smaller than a horse with low legs, long bodies and wide, straight backs. They had a muscular croup and amazing stamina.

  The villages were like dozens throughout Estonia: a collection of wooden huts with thatched roofs, a central barn, animal pens and fields around the settlements. The most prosperous had a central hall where the headman and his family lived and behind which were animal pens holding goats and pigs. On a rainy autumn day Conrad and his friends rode into one such village where the headman stood in front of his people. The scouts stood to one side with their ponies. The rain was beginning to turn the patch of dirt in front of the hall into mud as Conrad slid off his horse and walked towards the group of sullen people, the men armed with a variety of spears and clubs. The headman had a sword strapped to his waist and a shield tucked into his left side, on which was painted a boar’s head, though the paint was cracked and aged.

  Conrad pulled the mail coif off his head and held up his hands to indicate he threatened no violence. Hans and Anton, also dismounted, did the same. Drops of rain dampened the quilted linen coif on his head.

  ‘Have you come to rob us as well?’

  The headman’s words were curt and unwelcoming.

  ‘No, sir,’ replied Conrad, ‘I am merely touring the area to reassure its inhabitants that Wierland is now at peace.’

  The headman regarded him for a moment. He must have been in his sixties at least. His curly hair was pure white and his hands calloused. But his blue eyes missed nothing as they darted from Conrad to the scouts.

  ‘They told me that you are the Marshal of Estonia though I have not heard of such a title in all my time as headman. They also told me that you are a great warrior who has won many victories but all I see is another man of iron come to plunder us.’

  There were murmurs of agreement behind him and the young men of the village stared with hateful eyes at Conrad and his friends.

  ‘All I can tell you, sir,’ replied Conrad, ‘is that the rest of Estonia is now at peace and prospering and I intend that Wierland should join it.’

  The headman raised an eyebrow. ‘Wierland was at peace once, before the men of iron wearing white came.’

  ‘When Edvin ruled you?’ Conrad shot back.

  The headman’s eyes showed surprise. ‘You knew Edvin?’

  ‘I fought against him at Wolf Rock.’

  There was a rumble of thunder overhead.

  ‘I too was at Wolf Rock,’ replied the headman, ‘there was much slaughter that day. I lost many friends.’

  ‘I too have lost friends, sir, but I prefer to look to the future rather than the past.’

  The headman shrugged. ‘Our future is to be targets of bandits and thieves, it seems. Villages to the east have been raided and emptied by bandits in the Alutaguse. Edvin would not have tolerated such outrages.’

  ‘And neither will I, sir,’ stated Conrad firmly. ‘You know of the fort at Laiuse?’

  He nodded.

  ‘There are horsemen there who will aid you in your fight against the bandits. They are led by a man called Paul and his soldiers are all Estonians, men like you.’

  ‘Wierlanders?’

  ‘Not yet, but I am hopeful that like the men who rode into this village before me, Wierlanders will ride with me to rid this land of wrongdoers.’