‘You might as well concede defeat, Conrad,’ said Paul, ‘this lot are like an old dog with a bone; they won’t let it go.’

  ‘God will decide who is in the right,’ announced Sir Richard.

  ‘He and a few hundred crossbowmen,’ smiled Leatherface.

  Mikk, the fort’s chief steward, organised a lavish feast for the warlords that evening, Sir Richard divulging that the army that had landed at Riga was composed of Italians who had marched the breadth of Europe to Lübeck. Hillar, Riki and Andres were fascinated by the wagon that carried a piece of the true cross, though when he heard this Conrad was plunged into despair. Maarja sitting next to him noticed his gloom.

  ‘Why so sad, Conrad?’

  ‘No army can prevail against one that carries a fragment the true cross.’

  Leatherface across from him belched. ‘In my time I’ve seen enough fragments of the true cross that if they were collected in one place would provide enough wood to build a hall bigger than this one.’

  Conrad was mortified. ‘You blaspheme.’

  Leatherface pointed a pork chop at him. ‘Religious relics are a very profitable business in Germany, Master Conrad. Lady Maarja, you’re an educated person, not like Master Conrad, so let me ask you this. What are the chances of a piece of wood that was used to crucify criminals, by which I mean it has nails hammered into it and is out in all weathers, what are the odds of that piece of wood surviving for over a thousand years?’

  ‘Slim, I would imagine.’

  The mercenary gnawed at his chop. ‘That’s putting it mildly, my lady. Anyway, friend Baldwin is obviously no great general.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ asked Conrad.

  ‘Starting a campaign when the harvest is mostly in, for one. He has no siege engines when those he seeks to suppress possess a great many strongholds, which means he will have to leave troops surrounding those strongholds if he wants to take them. Which in turn will deplete his army’s numbers.’

  ‘He won’t waste his time on sieges,’ insisted Sir Richard.

  ‘Oh, why’s that, your grace?’ queried Leatherface.

  ‘Because we shall offer him battle at a time and place of our choosing.’

  Leatherface was unconvinced. ‘Why would he accept such an invitation?’

  Sir Richard dabbed a cloth on his mouth. ‘Because he has a fragment of the true cross and that will make him arrogant.’

  Leatherface smiled at Conrad. ‘You see, hopeless general.’

  *****

  ‘Where is he? Can the Grand Master of the Sword Brothers vanish into thin air?’

  The eyes of Legate Baldwin were always burning with zeal but now they threatened to burst out of their sockets as he paced up and down in front of Manfred Nordheim. A week had passed and not one Sword Brother master had surrendered himself. Worse, Grand Master Volquin and the staff of his office had disappeared, vacating Riga Castle without any notice.

  ‘The Grand Master may go where he will, Legate,’ said Bishop Nicholas, irritated at being summoned like a novice by Baldwin. ‘He is not under arrest.’

  The legate forced a smile as he faced the prince bishop of the Holy Church. Nicholas had grown into his role and was not blind to the grumblings of his fellow churchmen in Livonia concerning the legate’s arrogance and lack of manners. Baldwin was fast wearing out his welcome among all sections of Livonian society.

  ‘Not yet, excellency.’

  Nicholas began drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair, next to him Archdeacon Stefan keeping his council but also deeply unhappy, not least because he had Magnus Glueck bending his ear about the unreasonableness of the legate.

  Manfred Nordheim felt very alone as he stood in the centre of the audience chamber of the Bishop’s Palace.

  ‘You are the commander of the garrison of this city, are you not?’

  Baldwin’s tone was aggressive and condescending.

  ‘I am, excellency.’

  ‘Then surely your soldiers standing guard at the city gates must have seen them leave.’

  ‘No, your eminence, they did not.’

  Baldwin moved closer to Nordheim until their faces were just inches apart.

  ‘Perhaps there is treachery and heresy among your own men, commander. Perhaps you yourself harbour heretical thoughts.’

  ‘Enough,’ barked the bishop, causing Stefan to jump. ‘Commander Nordheim, for all his faults, and he has many, is not a heretic and nor is he incompetent. Perhaps you wish to examine me to see if I too am a heretic?’

  Baldwin bristled at his words but smiled. ‘As proof of the commander’s loyalty I request that he and his men accompany my army when it marches north.’

  ‘You would leave the city defenceless,’ shrieked Stefan.

  Baldwin rounded on him. ‘Defenceless, Archdeacon? Surely the Livonian Militia is more than capable of maintaining order in Riga?’

  Nicholas, always aware that Nordheim and Stefan had written evidence that could bring about his downfall, sensed an opportunity.

  ‘Commander Nordheim and his men will accompany Legate Baldwin north to expedite the subjugation of Estonia.’

  Baldwin smiled triumphantly at Stefan who was left to ponder who would protect him while Nordheim was away.

  ‘Don’t worry about that, Stefan,’ Glueck reassured his friend as a servant poured white wine into the archdeacon’s goblet. ‘I will personally see to it that the Bishop’s Palace is guarded night and day.’

  Stefan had gone to see the Duke of Riga in his home the moment the uncomfortable meeting with the legate had come to an end. They both took solace in their mutual dislike of Baldwin as the wine loosened their tongues.

  ‘It would be better for all of us if the Sword Brothers defeated the legate’s army,’ said Stefan. ‘At least they and the Marshal of Estonia are content killing pagans rather than interfering in Riga’s interests.’

  ‘Better the devil you know, so to speak,’ grinned Glueck whose wife suddenly appeared in the hall, its high architectural wooden roof giving the expansive chamber an airy aspect.

  ‘My dear,’ said Glueck, ‘come here.’

  The young woman, beautiful and delicate, glided silently into the room with her head down.

  ‘This is my friend Archdeacon Stefan.’

  Stefan stood and tilted his head at Glueck’s wife, who met his eyes briefly and smiled.

  ‘Pleased to make you acquaintance, sir,’ her voice was more of a whisper.

  ‘Of you go, then,’ ordered Glueck, prompting his wife to scurry away at speed.

  ‘Most charming,’ said Stefan, sitting.

  ‘She suffices.’ Glueck watched as a servant refilled his goblet and waited for the servant to retreat out of earshot. He leaned forward to speak in a whisper.

  ‘The legate has made many enemies during his time in Riga, Stefan. It would be better if we were rid of him.’

  The archdeacon nodded. ‘What had you in mind?’

  ‘My question to you is what would happen if Baldwin were to fall during the coming campaign.’

  Stefan drank greedily from his goblet. ‘That would be the end of the Sword Brothers.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘A military order killing a papal legate? There would be no forgiveness for that.’

  Glueck leaned back, a leer on his ugly visage. ‘So, the best outcome for us would be for the legate to be killed in battle, at a stroke removing friend Baldwin and the Sword Brothers. Oh, and the Marshal of Estonia.’

  Stefan was glum. ‘Unfortunately the chances of that happening are slim, Magnus. The legate has brought a large army. Nordheim informs me that eleven and a half thousand foot and three thousand horse are camped outside Riga’s walls, and they include fifteen hundred of Christendom’s best crossbowmen. If the Sword Brothers offer battle I have no doubt that they will be crushed.’

  ‘What if they received reinforcements,’ said Glueck, ‘to tilt the odds more in their favour?’

  Stefan was confused. ‘Reinforcements?’

  Glueck shook his oversized head. ‘It does not matter.’

  *****

  The Duke of Riga was a vain man as well as a very wealthy one and did not take kindly to being humiliated by Legate Baldwin. He had little interest in Papal politics and even less in the affairs of the Sword Brothers, though he still despised Master Conrad. If the Marshal of Estonia was arrested and executed so much the better but he viewed the prospect of a war between the Sword Brothers and Baldwin with horror because such a conflict might easily spread from Estonia into Livonia, perhaps to the very gates of Riga itself. That would interrupt trade, which in turn would adversely affect his profits and that troubled him greatly. He and the city’s other merchants were already being coerced into paying for the maintenance of Baldwin’s army, which could prove ruinous, and there was no guarantee that after he had concluded his campaign the legate would not insist on the cessation of trade with the Russians. Worse, he might decide to launch a crusade against the followers of the Orthodox religion, which would undo all the good work he had done in negotiating trade treaties with them. It was all too much.

  But Magnus Glueck was nothing if not a good businessman and while the legate prepared his soldiers for the march north, which seemed to involve forcing every one of them to swear an oath of fealty with one hand resting on the strange cloth-covered cart upon which a fragment of the true cross stood, he went about securing his own interests.

  *****

  ‘He is prepared to pay the fees Kurland sends to Riga for the next five years.’

  As part of the agreement signed between King Lamekins, Riga and the Sword Brothers the Kurs were expected to pay the tithe that was applied to all Christian territories, in addition to reparations for Duke Arturus’ raid on Riga. The Kurs were also required to take part in wars against pagans if called on to do so by the Sword Brothers, in addition to accepting baptism. Lamekins had paid a high price for Riga’s friendship but Kur merchants were now free to trade in the city and Livonian merchants were also operating in Kurland, most in Talsi itself.

  ‘That is a most generous offer,’ remarked Lamekins, looking at Torolf, ‘what does he want in return?’

  ‘Soldiers,’ replied Torolf, ‘Kur soldiers.’

  The others sat around the table looked at each other in confusion.

  ‘This Duke of Riga,’ said Gintaras in a low tone, ‘has he no men he can call upon?’

  ‘He is the commander of the Livonian Militia, a force of part-time warriors that proved disappointing when they were committed to battle,’ answered Torolf.

  ‘I remember,’ said Lamekins as the others chuckled. He stood and walked to the window to look down upon the blue waters of the lake to the north of his stronghold.

  ‘This Duke of Riga must be rich.’

  ‘Very,’ said Torolf.

  Fishing boats were on the lake, their crews casting nets on the water to catch bream and catfish.

  ‘Why is this rich duke so interested in hiring Kur soldiers? He can go to Germany and hire men there.’

  Torolf relayed to the king and his warlords what Glueck had explained to him when the ambassador had been invited to the duke’s residence in Riga. Of how the papal legate threatened to destroy the trade networks that it had taken Riga so long to establish and how a war between him and the Sword Brothers might lay waste to Livonia.

  ‘He wants to save his own neck,’ scoffed Tadas.

  ‘He further mentioned, lord,’ said Torolf, ‘that he would finance a Kur campaign on Oesel after the business with the legate is concluded.’

  Lamekins was intrigued. ‘Why should he do that?’

  ‘He dislikes the Oeselians intensely,’ Torolf answered. ‘Apparently they burnt one of his ships once and he has been seeking retribution against them ever since. My sources inform me that during Bishop Albert’s final crusade it was the Duke of Riga that provided the funds to raise ten thousand Russians to accompany the bishop.’

  ‘One Kur is worth ten Russians,’ sneered Tadas.

  Torolf nodded. ‘That is the Duke of Riga’s thinking. He admits that the Russian soldiers were the scrapings of humanity. The duke also states, lord, that if we participate in the subjugation of Oesel you will share in the profits.’

  ‘Profits?’ said Lamekins.

  ‘The duke owns a number of ships that take goods to Germany,’ explained Torolf, ‘but he also owns land in Livonia that provides among other things timber for shipyards in Germany, tar and pitch for the same purposes and potash for the production of glass. He intends to own land on Oesel when that island is conquered.’

  ‘What is glass?’ asked Valdas.

  The others looked vacantly at him.

  ‘A substance that you can see through, like clear ice,’ explained Torolf. ‘It is used in windows instead of shutters.’

  ‘Why?’ probed Valdas.

  Torolf thought for a moment before shrugging. ‘I know not.’

  ‘Words are cheap,’ said Tadas, ‘how do we know that this man, this Duke of Riga, will not betray us.’

  ‘A good question,’ admitted Lamekins. ‘Torolf, what is your estimation of his proposal?’

  ‘The Duke of Riga is motivated only by the accumulation of wealth and power and his actions are determined by the desire to protect and further those aims. But unlike the lords who come from Germany to dip their blades in the blood of unbelievers he knows that peace backed up by the threat of war is the route to great wealth. He makes no pretence that he wishes to use us to further his own ends, but equally the offer he has made is, I believe, genuine. Purely because it furthers his interests.’

  ‘He wishes to use us,’ said Tadas dismissively.

  ‘He wishes to hire us,’ Torolf corrected him. ‘To him it is a financial contract, nothing more, nothing less.’

  ‘He has forgotten one thing,’ said Gintaras, ‘that Kur warriors do not have wings. If the king accepts the proposal how will our men get to Estonia to join the Sword Brothers?’

  ‘The Duke of Riga will provide ships to transport our men to the Estonian coast,’ stated Torolf.

  Lamekins laughed. ‘He has thought of everything. It is flattering. I suppose that Riga’s richest man wishes to hire my warriors and his offer is most generous. But I am mindful to accept his proposal not because he has offered it but rather it is a way of supporting Master Conrad who gave aid to me when I needed it.’

  ‘Can I inform the Duke of Riga that you accept his proposal, lord?’ asked Torolf.

  ‘You may,’ replied Lamekins.

  The king sent a thousand warriors to fight beside Master Conrad, comprising five hundred medium foot and the same number of axe men. They were picked up by three of Magnus Glueck’s great cogs that anchored off Cape Kolka on the northernmost tip of the Kur coast, riverboats being used to ferry the men to the ships. From there they sailed across the Gulf of Riga and along the coast of Rotalia, bypassing Oesel and Muhu to reach Reval after an uneventful voyage of three days.

  A very surprised Master Lukas walked to the harbour to watch hundreds of Kur soldiers disembarking from Magnus Glueck’s cogs. He was even more surprised when one of the captains presented him with a letter from the Duke of Riga himself explaining that King Lamekins had expressed a desire to assist Master Conrad and as a good Christian he could not stand idly by when a Christian king needed aid. Lukas watched as another two cogs flying the coat of arms of the Duke of Riga approached one of the large jetties projecting from the quay.

  ‘More Kurs?’

  ‘They are carrying food, enough for a month, all provided by the duke, my master.’

  Lukas looked at the black-uniformed troops forming up on the wooden jetty.

  ‘I’ve never been this close to them, at least not unless they were trying to kill me. Do any speak German?’

  The captain pointed to a man in black leather armour standing next to a huge bearded brute barking orders.

  ‘That man, master.’

  Lukas walked over to the brute who stopped shouting and regarded the Sword Brother, speaking something in Kur to the slimmer man beside him.

  ‘My lord wishes to know if you are in charge here. I am Ringaudas and this is Lord Gintaras, the commander of King Lamekins’ axe men.’

  Lukas glanced at the two-bladed axe resting on Gintaras’ shoulder. It looked like a toy next to his large frame. Lukas bowed his head to Gintaras.

  ‘I am Master Lukas, Governor of Reval and commander of my order’s castle on that hill behind us. You arrival is most unexpected but welcome nevertheless.’

  Ringaudas related to his lord Lukas’ position. The brute smiled and spoke words to his subordinate.

  ‘My lord asks if Master Conrad is here because my king sent his soldiers to fight beside him.’

  ‘He’s on his way,’ said Lukas.

  Gintaras pointed at the red motif on Lukas’ surcoat.

  ‘Iecava, Kandava.’

  Lukas nodded. ‘Tell him I was there.’

  Ringaudas did as instructed, prompting Gintaras to slap Lukas hard on his arm.

  ‘Good fights, crusader.’

  Reval’s citizens, merchants and churchmen were extremely nervous about the sudden arrival of a thousand black-attired devils. They had all heard of the Kurs and did not want them in the town so Lukas suggested to Gintaras that he and his men might like to camp outside the walls as there was no space in the town or castle for them. The Kur agreed and as thanks Lukas invited him and his leading chiefs to a banquet in the castle. He and his garrison were expecting a drunken brawl but the Kurs were remarkably restrained and the next day Gintaras invited Lukas to inspect his camp. He found it well ordered and clean. Gintaras watched Lukas as he accompanied the Sword Brother on his inspection.

  ‘My lord asks if you approve of our camp,’ said Ringaudas.

  ‘I do. Of all the foes that the Sword Brothers have fought only the Kurs remain undefeated.’

  ‘King Lamekins was the one that forged the Kur army into the instrument it is today, Master Lukas.’

  As they strolled through the camp with its neat lines of tents, men on guard duty or practising drills, Lukas wondered why the Duke of Riga was assisting the Sword Brothers in their conflict with the papal legate.