The Silver Cup (10 page)

“With this fine weather, the roads have been filled with travelers,” he observed.

“Yes. I've never seen it so busy,” Gunther agreed.

“On the way to Mainz, Anna, we met peddlers with all sorts of bright bits of pottery, pins, threads and ribbons.”

From his sleeve, Martin produced a dark green ribbon and handed it to Anna.

“My favorite color! It's lovely. Thank you, Martin.”

He smiled and continued. “We traveled with some soldiers, and even three knights who had fought against black-skinned soldiers in the lands of Castile. The whole road is a fair.”

“Tell Anna about the monkey,” said Gunther.

“We met a tiny man, a juggler.” Martin was warming to his story. “He was no taller than my elbow, and dressed in dandelion-colored cloth. He had a little gray-faced monkey on his shoulder. Really, the creature had the very same face as the juggler and was dressed in the same bright yellow cloth. And the monkey could do all the same tricks as the man.” Martin shook his head. “Anna, you would have laughed. Then we met a priest who offered to sell us a tooth of Saint Apollonia.”

Each evening Anna scraped her teeth with hazel wood twigs and chewed mint leaves, for a sweet mouth with an ivory smile was a rare thing of beauty. When a tooth began to ache, it rarely could be saved, and people would seek miracles from Saint Apollonia whose life was well known. Apollonia had been an elderly nun who had lived long ago, when it was dangerous to be a Christian. She met her death when an angry pagan mob attacked her convent. Before she lost her life, the angry mob knocked out all her teeth. Thereafter, she became the saint to pray to about a troublesome tooth.

“This priest—”

“Martin, he was no priest. He just wore the robes,” corrected Gunther.

“He said he was a priest,” argued Martin.

“He said many things.”

“He had a pouch of white kidskin, and inside was an ancient tooth from the very mouth of Saint Apollonia.”

“Which, of course, he was willing to part with for a price,” added Gunther.

“Well, he said his church had great need.”

“He was more concerned with his own needs.”

“Anna, we could have had this miraculous tooth for our own. Never another pain or chipped tooth. You know how much your father suffers.”

“Me? I doubt that man's tooth would help my jaw. Besides, Martin, I've been offered this very saint's teeth before.”

“Yes, but this one
was
her tooth, I'm sure. Did you see how old it looked?”

Anna laughed. “I know two families here in our narrow town who each claim to have a tooth from that holy mouth.”

“There are enough of that sainted woman's teeth to fill the mouths of several towns. Your cousin believes the tales of everyone we meet,” added her father.

Martin insisted the tooth was authentic.

“Still, I am glad for all the tales Martin brings home,” said Anna, smoothing her new ribbon on her lap.

“Well, I'm glad I'm good for something,” answered Martin, but his face was grim. “Thank you for dinner. It was good, Anna.”

Anna became suspicious when her cousin patted her shoulder awkwardly and said, “I'm sorry I haven't said ‘thank you' more often.” Then Martin asked Gunther if there was more work. Since there was none, he said he was off to join some friends.

What is Martin up to?
Anna wondered as Martin waved good-bye and left.

Night came. Martin did not come home. Evening meals were light and easily skipped. Spring nights deepened to gray but never turned winter black.
He's probably up to no good with that awful Dieter
, thought Anna. She did not worry until the next day when Martin did not return for dinner.

Anna and Gunther set off to find him.

“Dieter, have you seen Martin? ” asked Anna when they found Martin's friend struggling to pull a handcart filled with large stones.

“No,” he grunted, releasing the cart handles and stretching.

“He didn't sleep at home last night,“ said Gunther. “Do you know where he might be? ”

“He wasn't with me. I never saw him yesterday, nor today.”

“Dieter, tell me what you know,” said Gunther laying a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder.

Dieter stepped away from Gunther and said, “I think he's gone.”

“Gone? Gone where? ” asked Anna.

“Well, I didn't see him leave, but if he hasn't been home, then he's left. He didn't say good-bye to me, but I know he's been planning to go.”

Gunther grabbed Dieter's arm. “Planning to go where ? ”

Dieter pulled free from Gunther. “Why ask me? I do the work of an ass. Martin has traveled everywhere with you, but I've never even seen Worms.”

“Dieter, where did Martin go? ” asked Anna. Dieter's face was dirty, and his shirt smelled sour.

“Well, he always boasted of all the places he's seen. And since Easter, when he went so far north, to that city. . . .” Dieter began to clean his nails with his teeth.

“To Cologne? ”asked Gunther.

“Yes, where Martin heard that man.”

“The man they call the Hermit? ”

“No, the other one. The one who is branded with a cross by the Lord,” said Dieter, and he spat out a fingernail.

“Count Emich?”

“Yes. That's it. Martin has talked of nothing else since Easter. He planned to join the soldiers of Count Emich.”

“He cannot. He is only a boy,” said Gunther angrily.

Anna began to walk toward home. She did not want to cry in front of Dieter.

Dieter glared at Gunther and said, “He's no boy. He's already seen most of the world. He'll be a soldier. And now he'll see Jerusalem.”

“Martin doesn't even have the sense of a boy. He knows nothing of war,” replied Gunther, shaking his head slowly as he turned to follow Anna.

“You should be going, you with your famous sword. I wish I could go,” called Dieter as Anna and Gunther walked away.

Without turning, Gunther answered, “Stay home where you belong, Dieter. Martin is a fool.”

“No, he's a hero.”

“I do not think so. I only hope that he will live long enough to be a man,” muttered Gunther angrily.

Wet tears marked Anna's cheeks.

16

ALONE

 
Sitting by the hearth on a damp, too quiet evening, Anna held Smudge's head on her lap and worked to untangle a burr that was matted into the fur behind his ear. For more than two weeks, no one had seen Martin. Though she had hated his teasing, Anna missed her cousin. He had been the music and laughter in her life. She looked up at her father who was, by habit, almost silent. Every now and then, he tried to talk, but he had little to say. It had always been Martin who filled their evenings.

When the burr was free, Anna scratched her dog behind his ear, and he thumped his tail and licked her face with his warm tongue. His breath was swampy, and Anna rubbed her cheek with her sleeve.

“Do you miss Martin? ” she asked her father.

Gunther nodded, and looking at the fur bundle curved happily against his daughter, he added, “I don't think your dog misses him.”

“No, Smudge didn't trust Martin. But it's so quiet without him.”

“Too quiet. I need Martin in my work.”

“What will you do, Father?”

“I don't know. I need his strong back, and his help to watch my goods. I depended on his excellent memory for people and places. He remembered roads. If we were separated, he could always find his way back to me.”

“And he made friends so easily.”

“Too easily perhaps.”

“Will you go alone?”

“I can wait only a bit longer for his return. Then I'll have to go. I suppose I should look for a new boy to help.”

“Not Dieter.”

“No, certainly not that one,” agreed Gunther. “Martin will be difficult to replace.”

“Each day, I hope I'll look up and see Martin filling the doorway.”

“I, too. But Anna, there are troubling rumors about the army of Emich. I've heard that he traveled south from Cologne to Speyer on this side of the River. That may be where Martin sought to join him.”

“Hasn't Martin traveled there with you many times?”

Gunther nodded. “Martin knows Speyer. There are reports of mischief and much worse. They say Emich and his army attacked and murdered some Jews in Speyer. Then they moved on, north along the river, not east toward the Holy Land. I fear the count intends to wage his war along our side of the river.”

“I'll pray Martin is not among this Emich's followers.”

“I don't like the stories I am hearing. Perhaps Martin will see that this hero is not doing the work of the Lord.”

Anna said hopefully, “Then he'll come home.”

17

HAGAN OF WORMS

 
The earth was dew covered, and when she opened the door to begin her day, Anna shivered in the fog of a dull morning. She noticed how slowly and stiffly her father rose and dressed. He shuffled from the house to the privy without looking up from his feet, and when he returned, he drew his stool close to the fire that Anna had stoked, and warmed his hands. Anna gave him some cheese and a flat wheat-meal cake.

“You slept poorly, Father.”

“I have too much to think about. I wish Martin were here.”

“I know,” said Anna.

“Today I must go to Worms, to Samuel, the silversmith. Come with me. There is a market today, and we might learn something of this Emich's whereabouts.”

“Do you think they might be in Worms? ”

“I don't know, but in any event, there's something there I want to show you. We'll be back well before dark.”

Anna thought about the fall when she last went to Worms. How much had changed since then! Now, both Thomas and Martin were gone. She had no hope that she would see Thomas again, but Anna prayed they would find Martin. She fetched the water and mixed some grain and milk for Smudge. Then she braided her hair with care, tying it with the green ribbon Martin had given her. She looked at her tall father, who was fastening a broad leather belt below his waist. He was still handsome and strong, with sandy hair cut blunt across his neck. His eyes were amber, and his skin was tanned and creased from his days on the road. She loved him very much, but the house was bitterly silent without her cousin.

The horse with its two riders clopped along briskly toward the east. As the sun burned through the mist, the day turned fine and summery. Yet, they met only a handful of travelers, all hurrying away from Worms.

“You'd think we had set out ahead of the world this morning,” said Gunther.

“Yes, we almost have the road to ourselves.”

“Unusual. I wonder if there is a cause? Surely not the weather. The sky is clearing. The day will be bright.”

“Father, what's that below us? ” asked Anna, pointing to a yellow haze on the road below.

“I don't know. Worms is just beyond.”

As they neared the city, Anna realized that the haze was smoke; the air was sour, and the city was clouded, cloaked as they approached. She turned and looked over her shoulder. Toward home, the sky had cleared to blue, but not over Worms. With each step, the smell deepened. Not wood smoke, but sweet and then horrible. Blood smoke. The horse began to snort and hesitate. Anna's father reined the mare firmly and urged her along.

They arrived at Worms by the southwest gate, the Andrestor, near the Church of Saint Andreas. The gate was open, and they passed within and dismounted. Gunther calmed the horse, stroking her nose and whispering to the uneasy animal.

“Strange,” he said. “I have never seen the Andrestor unattended. We'll leave the horse with Hagan, a fish seller I trust. His house is down the way from this gate. He knows Martin. Perhaps he has even seen him.”

“I hope so,” said Anna. “Something has happened here.”

“Yes, but what?”

They spoke no more as they passed along the narrow street where every door was closed, every window shuttered. The quiet rang in their ears. Gunther knocked at the door of a solid, tidy house.

“The iron merchant, Gunther. What brings you here with such a fair maid? You've come to my city at a very bad time,” said the fat, many-chinned man who opened the door.

“Hagan, this is my daughter Anna.”

Hagan licked his teeth and began to work a toothpick between them as he studied Anna's face. He turned to Gunther and said, “A fine-looking girl. I wish you had brought her on another morning.”

“Will you mind the horse for me? I have business to attend, and we hope to find news of my nephew.”

“Yes, of course. But your nephew? Martin, the boy who plays the pipe? Where's he gone? ”

“We believe he may have joined the army of a count from Leiningen, Count Emich.”

“I hope you're wrong, Gunther,” said Hagan, frowning.

“Why? Do you know of this Emich? ”

“Everyone in Worms knows Emich now.”

“Has he been here? ”

“Thank Emich for the smoke-filled sky. And thank the Lord that my city did not burn to the ground,” answered Hagan. “Come inside, Gunther. Let me give you both some drink, and I'll tell you about Count Emich. And you can pray with me that your Martin is not among his men.”

“We must be quick. I have business in the market,” said Gunther as he and Anna followed Hagan inside.

The house smelled of the sea and decay as they threaded between baskets of salted herring and barrels of all sizes. Strings of yellowed, dried codfish hung from the ceiling, and Gunther had to duck often. Peering into a giant barrel filled with water, Anna saw two large fish swimming very slowly.