The Silver Cup by Constance Leeds Page B

humble hermit Peter.”
    â€œNo, I have my work here. But I think this Emich is not a man to follow.”
    â€œEmich is the greatest living hero. He’ll rule the new Jerusalem. I’d love to be a soldier in his army.”
    â€œYou’re still a smooth-cheeked boy! Your voice is only a man’s some of the time, and then you croak like a young rooster,” replied Lukas with a laugh.
    â€œInsult me all you like big brother,” said Martin, rising from the table and looking down at Lukas. “I’m your size already. And I’m ready for this battle.”
    â€œPatience, Martin. Our holy Pope has declared that no one shall join his war without permission from his priest. And even if you can convince Father Rupert, no one may leave before August, after the fields have been harvested.”
    â€œEmich waits for no permission.”
    Elisabeth interrupted. “Where’s Father? ”
    â€œI didn’t see him leave the table,” said Lukas.
    â€œI’ll look in the garden,” said Anna.
    â€œFather’s never been one to miss a celebration,” said Margarete.
    Anna found Uncle Karl sitting in the garden, silent but tear stained, holding the knife that would have been a gift for Thomas.

15
    THE DISAPPEARANCE
    May 1, 1096
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The days lengthened, and throughout the garden, bees were flying, their hairy legs dusted pollen yellow. Anna planted vegetables and weeded all morning. Martin helped Gunther tend to their roof where the winter winds had loosened and lifted the thatch. Martin carved out an unfinished wasp’s nest and cursed when he was stung on his shoulder, but soon he was laughing and working again. For all his meanness, for all his insults, Anna had come to realize that her cousin was quick to forgive, quick to forget. Often, she would be boiling at a remark that Martin had long ago forgotten. She also was beginning to understand that Martin needed to find his place, that he wanted something else in his life, just as she wanted something more.
    At midday, Anna served a simple dinner of duck eggs and tender sorrel greens. Martin was overly cheerful, bright with talk of a recent trip to Mainz.
    â€œWith this fine weather, the roads have been filled with travelers,” he observed.
    â€œYes. I’ve never seen it so busy,” Gunther agreed.
    â€œOn 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.
    â€œMy 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.”
    â€œTell Anna about the monkey,” said Gunther.
    â€œWe 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.
    â€œThis