Chapter 8: Joerg Isebrand Escapes Marriage and Makes a Man Happy

Over the next three years, Joerg Isebrand became a fixture around the Count Reinhardt. Wherever the nobleman went or rode, he insisted on Joerg accompanying him. Joerg was in no way connected to anybody in Merseburg, and certainly not to the Countess Irmgard.

After two years, the Feldweibel Bodo raised Joerg to Corporal. The Captain Grumm was all for it, too, as he had come to appreciate the loyalty and the sense of duty the young man displayed. Joerg was never late for duty, was never drunk, and he was always willing to perform extra tasks when ordered.

He frequently received payment beyond his regular pay, for those extra duties performed. His clothes were well made now, and he began to wear fine cloth, to show his growing importance at the Count's court. He had a few dalliances with local girls, but they left him unsatisfied. The tavern wenches were not to his taste; they were unkempt and unwashed, for the most part.

At times when his urges became too strong, we would give in and visit a brothel. Those visits quelled his physical needs but left him unsatisfied emotionally. Joerg had grown up with women who held their heads high, but most of the wenches in the brothel were downtrodden, listless creatures who performed the services as chore.

On the other hand, the daughters of Merseburg's merchants were shielded from the soldiery by their families, and his rich clothing availed him nothing, as long as he did not rise to importance.

Thus, when Count Reinhardt briefly waged war with his neighbour, the Count of Altenburg, Joerg was quite happy for the chance to prove himself. The warlike endeavour was only brief, but it thoroughly changed Joerg's life.

They were besieging a small border town, Theilheim, finding themselves thwarted time and again by the well-built fortifications and the obstinacy of the defenders. Count Reinhardt had brought his Guards and two more fähnlein - over seven hundred men - with the usual camp followers. Feeding nigh on one thousand mouths soon developed into a problem. Thus, Count Reinhardt became impatient with the progress and involved himself with the efforts.

One morning, Count Reinhardt, accompanied by his bodyguard, was riding to inspect his men when suddenly, a large band of men broke forth from a well-hidden sally port. They aimed their crossbows at Count Reinhardt, and a dozen bolts were fired in rapid succession. Feldweibel Bodo and Joerg reacted quickly. Bodo spurred his horse to bring himself in front of his lord while Joerg yanked the Count from his horse unceremoniously, shielding him with his own body on the ground.

Reinhardt was unhurt, but poor Bodo caught three bolts in his stead. The five remaining guardsmen charged the band of archers and drove them back through the sally port. Not all of them made it, but they had done enough damage. Bodo was mortally wounded, and Joerg was surprised at the anguish displayed by Count Reinhardt. Bodo had been Reinhardt's protector since he had been a young boy, and the chubby feldweibel was the Count's closest confidante.

With his last strength, Bodo gripped Joerg's hand.

"You protect his Grace now, d'ye hear Joerg?"

"I shall, Feldweibel. Be at peace, the feldscher will be here any moment."

Bodo just shook his head.

"'Tis of no use," he managed to say, before his head rolled to the side.

"They'll pay for this!" Reinhardt snarled, trying to cover his grief. "Let us return to camp, to bury this fine man who gave his life for me. This afternoon, he shall be avenged."

Joerg nodded.

"The sally port," he stated calmly. "Now that we know about it, we can blow it away with a barrel of black powder."

Reinhardt smiled grimly.

"I will lead the charge in person, Feldweibel Isebrand. Be ready with the bodyguard to follow me!"

Joerg understood immediately. He was to follow the dead Bodo as leader of the bodyguard. He felt a mixture of apprehension, sorrow and gratitude. Bodo had been a fixture in Joerg's life for the past three years, and he truly mourned the man. Nevertheless, this was his chance for advancement, a chance he had not expected so soon.

"I thank thee for your trust, my Lord! We shall need to cover the wall above the port with our archers. Else, they'll pour hot oil and pitch on our heads."

Reinhardt nodded.

"I shall get the archers positioned. But now, let us pay respect to Bodo."

Thus it came that Joerg was the new feldweibel of the bodyguard when Bodo was buried After the brief ceremony, the archers and the foot soldiers received their orders, and the chief miner was instructed to prepare three gunpowder charges.

Joerg oversaw the construction of a huge shield, ten by fifteen feet, that would protect the miners and the other attackers against anything dropped from above. Come noontime, the preparations were finished, and Jorg saw to it that the wooden shield was doused with water, to make it less flammable.

By the second hour, two miners, covered by twelve foot soldiers and under the large shield, applied the powder charges at the sally port and lit the fuses. The defenders tried to stop them, as predicted, by hurling stones from the wall and pouring boiling water from the ramparts, but the miners and soldiers were protected and managed to get away in time.

The explosion deafened and shook both besiegers and besieged alike. When the smoke cleared, they saw a gaping hole in the city wall, while the parapets above appeared to be cleared of defenders by the explosion. Count Reinhardt seized the opportunity at once. Eschewing the protection of the cumbersome portable shield, he led his foot soldiers into the breach. Joerg and the men of the bodyguard formed a shield around their lord as they poured through the gap and into the city.

Only a few steps into the narrow alleys, they met with resistance. Some fifty soldiers and a few armed citizens tried to face them off, but they were swept away by the angry charge. It was Joerg Isebrand who cleared the way, swinging his two-handed sword like a reaper, and the enemy soldiers melted away before his powerful strokes.

Count Reinhardt proved himself to be a valiant and skilful fighter, too, and their combined examples led their men to a rapid victory. More Merseburg fighters streamed through the breach to join the fight, soon outnumbering the defenders. When the resistance of the city's fighters was all but broken, the Guards under Captain Grumm broke through the main gate, now deserted of defenders, and the remaining soldiers of Altenburg's side surrendered.

Next began the looting, as was the custom for all victorious armies of the time. The town's people sought to buy themselves free of looting, but Reinhardt refused to hear them. Only his bodyguard were forbidden to participate, but the rest of his soldiers were given two hours of license.

"You stay with me, Joerg," Reinhardt said. "I shall compensate you for the lack of opportunity. Now, for the Mayor's house!"

The Mayor of Theilheim's house was a stately building on the main square. It was already besieged by looting soldiers. They let off their attempts to break into the building when Reinhardt appeared on the scene. He rapped the door with his sword hilt and demanded access.

A portly man opened. He was dressed in old, worn clothes, obviously in an attempt to disguise his affluence in the face of looting soldiers. He recognised Count Reinhardt.

"What is your pleasure, your Grace?" he asked with a tremor in his voice.

"You will have the distinction to house me during my stay in your rich city," Reinhardt answered. "Have rooms prepared for me and my entourage and stir your cook."

"But your Grace!" the man protested. "I can hardly offer you the modest fare of my home."

Reinhardt snorted derisively.

"Do not think that your borrowed clothes can fool me. Either you host me and my train, or your house will be given to my men for looting."

He turned.

"Joerg, search the house for hidden wealth. Search from the cellars to the roof. Take two men with you, and herd all men and womenfolk into the common room."

"Yes, Lord," Joerg rapped.

He signalled two of his men to follow, and pushed the Mayor aside to begin his search. In the kitchens, they found an elderly cook and a nubile kitchen maid. Joerg told them to start preparing a supper for Count Reinhardt. The frightened women showed him the steep stairs down into the cellar. In the shine of a lantern, Joerg saw traces cut deep into the dirt floor of the cellar, like things had been moved. He bade his men to wait and followed the traces. They ended at a wall where shelves were set against.

Joerg smiled. The wily Mayor had shifted things, to protect them from the looting soldiers.

"Come down here!" he ordered his two men, and together, they cleared the items, mostly broken tools, from the shelves. When they could move those shelves, they saw a low door hidden behind them.

Joerg unsheathed his long dirk. Holding the weapon in his right hand and a lantern in his left, he bade one of his men to open the door. There were frightened shrieks to be heard when the door swung open. In the light of the lantern, Joerg saw three women, huddled against the far wall. He also saw crates containing gleaming items, like silver goblets and candleholders, he saw casks of spirited drink and wine, and he saw merchant goods in great quantity.

Joerg grinned. He had discovered the cache of the Mayor.

"Come out, ye womenfolk. My Lord wishes to see you!" he told the huddled women.

One of them, the mother obviously, answered with dread in her voice.

"Have mercy, brave soldier. Spare my daughters. They are good and God-fearing girls. I beg of you, leave them be!"

Joerg tried to see the girls in the dancing light of the lantern. They looked to be nubile, both of them.

"You better appeal to my Lord, woman. Come out now. Don't make us drag you out."

The woman took her two daughters by their hands and made them stand. Hesitantly, they approached the door where Joerg stood. In spite of the dim light, Joerg could see stark terror in the eyes of the girls. He bade one of the men to guard the cache and herded the women upstairs and to the common room.

The Mayor cursed when he saw his wife and daughters. He cursed more, when Joerg told Count Reinhardt about the cache of goods they had found. He went down on his knee before Count Reinhardt.

"Your Grace, surely you will not seek my ruin. Those trade goods are all I possess. If you give me time, I can ransom them. Aye, my brother in Altenburg will help me out with a loan. I can offer a thousand Guldengroschen if you let me keep my wares."

Curiously, Joerg watched the women. He saw a look of bitter loathing in the eyes of the mother, directed at the Mayor. The girls looked thunderstruck, hearing their father trying to ransom his merchandise while never wasting a word for his daughters.

"I see," Count Reinhardt temporised. "I'm afraid, I shall have to assess the value of those wares afore I can enter in ransom negotiations. What about those girls, then? Do you offer ransom, too?"

The Mayor looked at his wife and daughters, mulling the question. Suddenly, his face cleared.

"There be but no need to trouble the womenfolk, your Grace. I shall make an offer in private?"

Wordlessly, Count Reinhardt walked from the room, and the Mayor followed, as did Joerg. The Mayor looked at Joerg with distaste.

"I asked for privacy," he complained.

Joerg laughed harshly.

"This is as private as you will ever speak my lord."

The Mayor licked his lips.

"Your Grace, perhaps we can reach a favourable agreement on all matters?"

"Pray speak, but speak plainly. I've not the time for shrouded talk," Reinhardt returned.

"As you will see, your Grace, I have excellent knowledge of the Altenburg fortifications, and I can give you account of the strength of my Lord's soldiery. On the other hand, you have hold of my trade goods, my gold and my silver."

"You offer treason in return for your goods?" Reinhardt asked bluntly, with disgust written over his face.

"Intelligence, very useful intelligence, your Grace! There's more I can offer. You see, the girls are but my stepdaughters, from my wife's deceased husband. They are pretty lasses, and the young lads of the city's best families are lining up, expecting sizeable dowries of me. They're not my daughters, not of my blood. Why should I pay dowries? But my wife is adamant. Now, if you were to abduct the lasses, your Grace, for your pleasure or service, or as security for the ransom I owe you for my goods, it should be a worry less for me."

If possible, Count Reinhardt showed even more contempt now.

"You want to trade treason -" he emphasised the word "- and your stepdaughters for your trade goods, then?"

"They're pretty lasses, only just nubile, your Grace, and well bred."

"I've no need for commoner girls," Reinhardt said coldly. "If you want to rid yourself of them, I'll find good husbands for them, among my retainers. For each of the girls, you will give a dowry of sixty Guldengroschen. You can keep your goods for seven-hundred Guldengroschen, but the other valuables will be my loot. I shall not accept your treason of your noble lord. This is my final word. If you refuse, I shall send you to your Lord, with an account of your treachery."

"But, your Grace!" the Mayor exclaimed, grabbing for Reinhardt's hand.

He yelped in pain, finding his arm in Joerg's powerful grip.