Free The Sword Brothers by Peter Darman Page B

an
argument that got out of hand, captain. Nothing more. You know how
it is, sir. Nerves and tempers wear thin at sea.’
    ‘That they do,’ agreed
the captain, ‘which is why you should have known better. There is
nothing more to say. The punishment is well known. Brother
Rudolf.’
    Rudolf turned and
nodded to one of the mercenaries who was holding a rope.
    ‘No, captain,’ pleaded
the sailor. ‘It was just a flash of temper.’
    The mercenary grabbed
the man’s arms and yanked them back so Henke could bind them behind
his back with the cord, then bound his ankles together with another
length of rope. The sailor, suddenly aware of what was going to
happen, began to struggle violently, falling on the deck.
    ‘No, no! Leave me
alone.’
    Two more mercenaries
grabbed the body of the dead sailor and passed Henke another length
of rope. They dragged the corpse to place it next to the thrashing
prisoner and then Henke tied the rope around the necks of the
prisoner and corpse, thus binding them together. The mercenaries
lashed the two pairs of ankles together as the prisoner began to
moan.
    ‘No! For the love of
God, no!’ The rope around his neck was constricting his breathing
and he had difficulty talking.
    Another rope was
passed around the mid-rifts of the prisoner and corpse to tightly
secure them together. The sailor was now whimpering. Rudolf began
reciting a prayer and made the sign of the cross as Henke and two
others hauled the corpse and sailor up and tossed them over the
side of the ship. There was a splash and then silence. The captain
dismissed the assembly as Conrad and his companions looked at each
other. Rudolf came over to them.
    ‘That is why I forbid
gambling.’
    The next day one of
the sailors explained to them that the law of the sea was severe
when it came to killing on board ship. Not that it stopped gambling
for that afternoon the same man was playing dice with another
sailor. Rudolf made sure that all the youths were given daily tasks
to stop them becoming bored and restless. Fishing over the side of
the boat was one, rather enjoyable, of these tasks. Conrad sat with
Hans on empty crates, dangling their rods over the gunwale hoping
for a fish to bite the hooks. It was another glorious spring day
and the slight breeze hardly rippled the marble-smooth waters of
the Baltic. The two ships had hugged the coast to keep the sight of
land permanently on their starboard side but the two youths were
fishing on the port side of the cog. They were only five days away
from their destination.
    ‘Where’s that?’ asked
Hans, who had managed to scrounge some dried biscuits and was
shoving them into his mouth.
    ‘A place called Riga,’
answered Conrad. ‘I asked Brother Rudolf.’
    ‘Is it a city?’
    Conrad peered over the
gunwale at the water below to see if he could spot any fish. ‘I
don’t know. Brother Rudolf said that it had been founded by Bishop
Albert nine years ago so it can’t be a city.’
    Another biscuit went
into Hans’ mouth. ‘Will we live there?’
    ‘I do not know.’
    Hans shrugged.
‘Anywhere will be better than Lübeck.’
    Conrad nodded. ‘Yes,
it will.’
    Hans pointed out to
sea, towards the northwest. ‘Do you think they are from Riga?’
    Conrad looked up and
stared in the direction Hans was pointing, to see four small boats
on the horizon. They appeared not to be moving but that was only
because they were so far away. Conrad went back to peering at the
sea, convinced that they would catch nothing today.
    Suddenly the ship’s
bell start to ring and frantic activity broke out on the boat. The
sailors began to furl the sail and the mercenaries began donning
their mail armour and helmets, the crossbowmen unpacking their
weapons from their waterproof crates. Conrad and Hans stood up and
looked at each other in confusion. Moments later Rudolf, attired in
mail armour, surcoat and helmet in hand, was before them.
    ‘Store those rods and
join your comrades at the mast. Be