Shadows on a Sword (3 page)

“He
must
help us. We are God’s army.” Amalric was vehement in his indignation.

“So is Peter the Hermit’s band, and look what they did.”

“Pah! Rabble! That’s all his followers are. Criminals and murderers. The dregs of the prisons. Hardly a nobleman among the lot.”

“Not so—there are noblemen, and honest pilgrims, as well. Yet they sacked Semlin—a Christian city! I can understand the king’s reluctance to admit us. He has heard the tales, too, of the murder of the Jews along the Rhine. I wonder not that he fears us.” Theo’s voice was heavy. At first, he had not believed the stories of the massacres of the Jews by bands of crusaders in Trier and Mainz and other cities along the German rivers. And then had come news that Count Gottschalk’s army had been massacred in its turn by the Hungarians, after the count’s men had looted several villages and killed many of the peasants. A young Hungarian boy had been impaled by the crusaders, it was said, and left as a challenge to the Hungarian army. Theo could not bear to think of it. This was not the way the holiest of all wars was to be carried out.

“The villagers refused them food. The crusaders were in need …” Amalric’s voice trailed off. The tales had been too full of horror. Even he, with all his enthusiasm, could find no excuses.

They were camped on wide fields beside the Danube River. When they had arrived, the fields had been rich with the late fall harvest. After eight days, however, any crops not pulled up by the crusaders had been trampled into garbage. Theo looked around. It was a dispiriting sight. As far as he could see were tents and makeshift shelters. People gathered by small fires, beginning to prepare their evening meal. Pennants flew as usual in the brisk October breeze, but somehow they did not impart any air of gaiety. The camp was unusually quiet. Here and there children’s voices broke the stillness, and dogs barked defiance at one another and the world in general, but over all hung an air of listlessness and waiting. The weather had been warm for this time of year; the stink of the camp permeated everything.

At first, curious villagers had ventured out to see this incredible army, some even carrying gifts of food and clothing, but none had appeared for the last two days. Food was running short, tempers were rising. Fights broke out.

Suddenly, Theo could bear it no longer. “I must return to the count,” he said.

“Will you meet me here tomorrow morning?” Amalric asked. “I would try my hand at hunting for a few birds in the woods. We’re not overly short of food yet, but anything extra for the pot is welcome.”

“Gladly.” Theo felt a twinge of guilt as he spoke. Count Garnier had laid in wagonloads of supplies, and his people, like Godfrey’s, were suffering no want of food as yet; but every evening, as Theo wandered through the camp, he could not help but realize that the mass of common people were beginning to suffer. Now, as he turned back toward his tent, he deliberately chose a path away from the river’s edge where most were settled.

Baldwin’s tents also lay in this direction. There was, perhaps, a chance he might see the girl who was nursemaid to Baldwin’s children—the girl who had intrigued him so the day of the tournament. He had found out from Amalric that her name was Emma, but when Amalric realized how curious Theo was about her and began to tease him, Theo had not mentioned her again. Amalric could be merciless when he had the bit between his teeth, and, friend or not, was not above humiliating Theo completely before the other knights. He had done it before to other luckless young men.

Theo had seen Emma two or three times in the distance, but always with the children or with Baldwin’s lady, Godvere. Now, as he drew near to their camp, he heard Godvere’s angry voice. The sound of a slap followed. The bushes in front of him parted, and a figure pushed through. As if his thoughts had suddenly taken shape, Emma appeared.

The girl was wiping her eyes as she emerged, but at the sight of Theo her hand dropped. She swung her heavy hair away from her face with a toss of her head and faced Theo warily. A welt was rising on one cheek.

“Is anything amiss?” The words sprang from Theo’s lips before he had time to think.

“Amiss? No more than usual.” The girl’s voice shook. Theo could see the effort she was making to steady it. She eyed him with distrust and took a step back toward her encampment.

“No—stay!” Again, Theo spoke impulsively. “I … I saw you at the feast,” he added. To his chagrin, he realized he was stuttering.

“And I saw you looking at me,” Emma replied. There was a hint of scorn now in her tone, as if she were well used to being stared at by rude young knights.

With her black hair billowing around her face, her dark eyes and her flushed cheeks, Theo thought her quite the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He could well imagine men staring at her.

“Your pardon. I did not mean to discomfort you.”

“You did not. I am not that easily discomforted.”

Theo could well imagine that, also.

“You are nursemaid to Lady Godvere’s children?” he asked, trying desperately for some way to reassure her, to keep her from leaving. He was careful to make no move toward her.

“I am. And you—you are foster son to Count Garnier, are you not?”

Theo looked at her in surprise. How did she know that? Had she, by any chance, been making enquiries about him?

“Amalric said so,” she added, squelching his hope that she might be as interested in him as he was in her. “He is much about our camp and has spoken of you. I could not help but overhear.”

“Oh,” was all that Theo could manage.

Emma reached out to break a twig off a bush. She started to peel the bark from it with long, slender fingers. In the gathering dusk, Theo could see that her hands were work-hardened, but fine. She looked at him for a long moment, and bit her lip. Then she tossed the twig away with a decisive movement, as if she had made up her mind about him and concluded there was nothing to fear from this young knight after all. Her face brightened.

“This is a truly wonderful crusade we’re on, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Theo agreed, still treading carefully.

“I wish I were a man. I wish I could fight. I do so envy you!”

“Women cannot fight.” The words came out more stiffly than he had intended.

“Oh, I know women can’t fight,” she said, tossing her hair back again in a movement that completely bewitched him. “Still,” she went on, “I can wish for anything I want, can’t I? What about you? What will you do after we free Jerusalem?”

The question brought Theo up short. He had never given the matter any thought at all. The crusade alone had filled his mind—the reconquering of Jerusalem. “I shall serve my lord, Count Garnier,” he said finally, stuttering again. “What else? He is my father now, and he has no other family but me.”

“But will you stay in the Holy Land? They say you will all be given land, houses, riches. They say there are treasures beyond compare to be had there. But perhaps you have even more waiting for you back home?”

“No. No, that I certainly do not have. There is nothing waiting for me back home.”

“No girl mooning at the stars and praying at night high upon the battlements of her castle for your safe return?”

Theo bristled. He liked it not that she should take that tone with him. He was not such a callow youth. There had been many girls. He was not that inexperienced. He scowled.

“There is nothing for me to return to,” he repeated.

Emma ignored the scowl and smiled. “Then you’ll probably stay as well.” She looked as if the thought pleased her. Theo’s fur settled back down. “It will be exciting, living in a new land, won’t it? They say it is very different from our old countries. No poverty, no disease. Wealth and good living for all. I can hardly wait.”

“It is probably not all of that,” Theo said. “And we must fight for it first.” He tried to sound cautious, but her words had chased away his misgivings and reawoken his enthusiasm. How fortunate he was that he was a man and not a mere woman, that he would be able to fight. And had he not shown his mettle in the tournaments? He was ready to go to battle for the glory of God—wealth meant nothing to him. Fighting God’s war was what was important—doing God’s will. And the battle would be magnificent, he had no doubt of it.

A voice clamored.

“Emma! Emma! Come here at once. Where are you?”

Emma grimaced. “My lady Godvere’s gentle summons. I must go.” She gave an irritated toss of her head, then smiled before turning to make her way back through the bushes.

Theo stood, looking at the spot where she had disappeared. He could almost believe he had imagined the whole encounter.

ȋ  ȋ  ȋ

Amalric was striding back and forth when Theo arrived at their meeting place the next morning, just as the first birds began to sing. The rising sun had melted the early morning mists over the fields where the crusaders were encamped, but here, at the edge of the forest, the haze still swirled heavily around them. The air smelled damp, redolent with earth and decaying vegetation. The shadows were deep.

“We are leaving!” Amalric burst out as soon as Theo was within hearing distance. “Coloman has given his permission! We leave tomorrow at sunrise.”

“How do you know? When did you hear?” Half asleep still and missing the warmth of his pallet, Theo was slow to react.

“The duke has just come back from King Coloman’s court. It seems he made a good impression and managed to convince the king that we are different from the rabble that has preceded us. The word is being passed around the camp now,” Amalric said. “We have no time for hunting, we must get ready to move. Besides, the king has agreed to give us all the supplies and provisions we need.”

“That is wonderful news indeed,” Theo answered. Wide awake now, his excitement rose to match Amalric’s. “I wonder what swayed his mind?”

“Well, we are to accept a guard of the king’s soldiers while we are crossing his lands. The duke had to give his pledge that there would be no lawlessness. He will call a gathering this afternoon, before the evening mass. He has threatened to kill any man who so much as steals a chicken.”

“Then we are on our way!”

“On our way, and nothing can stop us now. We are to march to Constantinople, to the city of the Byzantine Emperor Alexius, and there wait for the other great princes and their entourages to join us. And then … Jerusalem!”

“Jerusalem.” Theo almost whispered the word. He tried to picture the holy city, but could not. The name itself filled him with awe. He would walk in the footsteps of Christ. He would climb the very hills, follow the very paths His feet had trod …

“There is one other condition for our free passage, however.”

At first, the words did not even register.

“We must leave hostages with the king.”

Finally, Theo heard.

“Hostages? Who?”

“Baldwin and all his family. They are to remain with King Coloman until we are beyond the far borders of Hungary to ensure that we do no harm.”

“All his family? Children, too?”

“Yes. There is no cause to fear for them, though. Our men will behave, Godfrey will see to that. No one would dare go against his will. Not that Baldwin would be any great loss, I warrant.”

Emma! She would be left here as hostage while they marched on. Theo whirled around.

“Theo! Where are you going?”

He ignored Amalric’s cry and dashed back. Early though it was, the camp was in turmoil when he reached it; word had spread that they were to move out the next day. He fought his way through a crowd of people. A dog nipped at his heels; he kicked at it, almost ran into a dying campfire, skirted it and ran on, heading for the outskirts where Baldwin’s tents had been. They were already gone. Trampled grass and crumpled refuse were the only signs of where they had stood.

Theo stared at the abandoned camp. There was nothing he could do—nothing but hope that Godfrey could keep his knights and people in order as they marched through Hungary.

T
heo rode with his foster father, or with Amalric, as they followed the river down through Coloman’s kingdom. He marveled at the wide fields along the banks of the Danube River. Most of the crops had been harvested, and the level land made the traveling easier than it had been in the narrow defiles and hills along the Rhine and Neckar rivers in Germany. It was still far into the night, however, before he saw the last pilgrims straggle in to make camp at the end of each day.

One morning, Amalric caught up to him, breathless, just shortly after they had set out.

“Peter the Hermit’s band of crusaders has been trapped and massacred by the Turks!” he called out, reigning his horse in beside Theo’s.

“Where?” Theo asked. “What has happened?”

“At a place called Civetot on the southern shore of the Sea of Marmora, past Constantinople,” Amalric answered. He paused to gulp a mouthful of air, then went on. “No one knows for certain, but one tale has it that everyone who followed him has been killed!”

The news spread fast. Fear began to seep through the camp. At night, the mutterings that Theo heard around the fires grew louder and angrier with each passing day. Resentment at the presence of King Coloman’s troops surrounding them every step of the way only made things worse.

Theo worried for Emma’s safety. It was irrational, he barely knew the girl. She was nothing to him. But if the crusaders’ anger boiled over … If trouble broke out, he was certain King Coloman would use his hostages in any way necessary to ensure the safety of his people. A small knot of unease sat in the back of his mind and accompanied him wherever he went, whatever he did. Emma was the first thing he thought of in the morning, the last thing in his mind at night before he sank into restless sleep. It amazed him, this preoccupation with her.

In the evenings, after they had made camp, Theo often met Amalric to hunt. He enjoyed it, and it helped to keep his mind occupied. The Hungarian forests teemed with deer, wild boar and birds of all description. One evening, Amalric met him with further news.

“Peter survived,” he said. “My lord Godfrey has just received word. The Hermit was in Constantinople at the time of the attack. A few of his leaders escaped as well, but it seems most of his followers died.”