Army of the Wolf Read Online Free Page B

composure.
    ‘I am always ready to serve you, majesty,’ he said.
    ‘Of course you are,’ stated Valdemar. ‘We all are. It’s settled, then. Next year I shall sail with a great fleet to crush the pagans and establish the Holy Church in Estonia.’
    But the queen had not finished with the topic of the crusade in Livonia and after the meeting, when the king’s guests had been settled in their quarters, Berengaria poured honeyed words into Valdemar’s ears.
    ‘You really should not speak to princes of the church in such a way, my dear.’
    She closed the door to their bedroom and began kissing his ear.
    ‘But you should not let the church take advantage of you, great king.’
    She progressed from his ear to kissing his neck, and then went down on her knees before him.
    ‘It is a great honour to go on crusade,’ he said, his voice quivering as she unbuckled his sword belt and eased down his breeches.
    ‘I know,’ she replied, gently kissing the tops of his legs, ‘but you should be rewarded for your service.’
    He gasped as she pulled down his cotton undergarments and began licking his thighs.
    ‘Besides, the pope has given Estonia to the church.’
    ‘Write to him, my love. He will listen to a great king such as you.’
    They were the last words she spoke before her lips and tongue pleasured him in a most wondrous way.
    *****
    ‘What does he want me to do with them?’
    Domash Tverdislavich was far from happy. Ever since his defeat before Odenpah he had been in Prince Mstislav’s disfavour, and had only kept his head and position as mayor of Pskov because he had sent Bishop Theodoric of the Roman Church to Novgorod to negotiate a trade treaty with the prince. It was lucky for Domash that the merchants of northern Europe craved the pelts of the grey-white squirrel that was only found in northern Russia to supply to clothing manufacturers throughout Germany and beyond. Novgorod already supplied the fur – musk, marten, sable and ermine – to Byzantium, but the demand for squirrel, black fox and white wolf pelts in Europe meant another, highly lucrative trade route could be opened to the west. Novgorod’s furs already travelled along the Dvina but Bishop Theodoric had proposed a new, shorter route down the River Gauja. Both rivers were controlled by the Sword Brothers and in return for peace and Mstislav’s promise not to seize Ungannia, a trade agreement had been ratified between Livonia and Novgorod.
    Yaroslav Nevsky stood in the hall of the mayor’s palace with his helmet in the crook of his arm and looked vacant. One of Mstislav’s most able commanders, he had recently been the prince’s son-in-law until he had divorced his wife because she was barren. The prince understood but for the sake of family honour had temporarily banished Yaroslav from Novgorod until his daughter’s rage and grief had subsided. He had sent him south to reinforce the garrison of Pskov, along with two hundred Cuman warriors.
    ‘The prince said that you might have use of them,’ said Yaroslav at length.
    Domash liked Yaroslav. The pair had taken part in the abortive winter campaign against Odenpah, but the last thing he need in his city were two hundred Cuman warriors.
    ‘The garrison is quite adequate without two hundred barbarians to bolster it,’ said Domash. ‘I will send them back to Novgorod.’
    Yaroslav shifted uncomfortably on his feet. ‘May I say something?’
    Domash sat back in his chair. ‘If you must.’
    ‘The prince did not want the Cumans at Novgorod.’
    ‘I bet he didn’t,’ said Gleb who was lounging in a chair near to where Domash sat.
    ‘Thank you, Gleb,’ snapped Domash, ‘when I want your opinion I will ask for it.’
    Dressed in a bright blue tunic and light brown leggings, Gleb waved an arm at his master and grinned at Yaroslav. No one knew where Gleb came from but he was a Skomorokh , a mystic that the common people believed to be descended from the ancient pagan priests long before