Crusade of Tears: A Novel of the Children's Crusade (53 page)

“Now as with all of creation, the stars are given for our use. They help us measure the seasons and chart our courses, and the like. For example, if you can see m’finger, follow it to Polaris … there, the North Star. Can y’not see it, Conrad?”

“Nay.”

“Then find the shape that most of you may know as—”

“Charlemagne’s Wain!” exclaimed Otto. “My grandpapa taught me of it.”

“Aye, well said, lad. To some it is the wagon … do all see it? Those four stars that form something of a box—with a handle. Can y’see it now?”

“Ja, ja,
I see it now.”

“Good … your first constellation, your first picture in the sky.”

The old man raised his brows. “Now! Now you are ready to learn the true wonder of the night’s sky! Did you know that God has written a message to us and it is shining down on us now?”

The crusaders stared upward, slack-jawed and waiting.

“For thousands of years the astronomers have drawn pictures in the sky using stars as points to draw between. Pretend there to be lines in the sky and methinks you’ll see the wagon more clearly now.”

“Aye!”

“Good.

“Now, across the sky travels a group of constellations called the Zodiac. For most the word is a meaningless thing, but it means ‘The Way.’”

Karl scratched his head. “The Way? That is also the meaning of Weyer, our village.”

“Aye, good. But listen, some think that ‘Zodiac’ simply means
the way
the sun travels through the heavens. Ah, ‘tis not so. It means the way of redemption.

“Let me demonstrate. If you look to the west and very low you ought see two bright stars that are the elbow and hand of the Virgin.”

“It looks like no woman to me.”

Pieter chuckled. “I understand. It takes much training—and a strong wine! But it has been such for all people since the days of the ancient Hebrews.

“And there are other symbols in the sky that tell us of our Lord. Look there, high in the northern sky, and you ought see a bright cluster of stars. Just above is something called Pisces, or the Fish. It speaks of the coming Redeemer who will save His people. The Bible says, ‘Behold I’ll send for many fishers and they shall fish them.’”

The children laughed. Pieter squinted in the darkness and his displeasure could be felt like a chill in the night air. “Nay, children, ‘tis so. Now to the east, below the red Betelgeuse, look for another reddish star—that is the eye of Taurus the Bull.”

“Yes, I know of it,” said Wil.

“Now, see the beautiful cluster of stars, the Pleiades? They’d be part of the bull, and if you look close you ought see a double star. That was found but two centuries past and it was called the Crab Star. No matter, the Hebrews said the bull was the sign of the coming Judge of all the earth at the end of time.”

Heinz said, “I remember m’father showing me a hunter in the sky.”

“Ah, yes, Heinz, that would be Orion, the hunter. I fear he is at rest, though readying to rise. He is seen better in the later months. M’poor memory fails me to find all the others of God’s story, but I know of one called Gemini which means ‘Christ the King.’ Now look straight to the north and low in the sky and you’ll find some bright stars that are part of the famous Leo which is—”

“I know of it!” exclaimed Frieda. “’Tis the lion.”

“Good! Regulus marks its heart; that sickle shape marks its head. Leo brings us all the way around to the beginning, and the tail of the lion touches Virgo. Leo, of course, is the Lion of Judah.”

The children looked puzzled.

“The Lion of Judah is the Christ!”

They smiled and clapped.

“And more. The star named Regulus means ‘treading under foot.’ And so shall the Lion of Judah someday tread His enemies underfoot. Oh, I wish mine eyes stronger and m’memory clearer, my children, for there is much more to teach you, but that is all I can do for now.”

Karl gazed speechlessly at the silent sky above, intrigued by Pieter’s lesson. “I never knew the stars were speaking to me, Pieter. I never knew what a treasure has been over my head each night I sleep!”

“Indeed, my son,” Pieter answered. “It is important that we look up sometimes; that we look beyond the steps of our own little journey.”

Chapter 24

BOOTY AND A GOOD BATH

T
he floating crusaders took turns to sleep, as they passed the night with dreams sprinkled with starlight charms. And, at daybreak, when the shoreline seemed safer, they rowed to land for a hasty first-meal and a stretch. Wil granted a few hours sleep and then they were off again. The journey to Pavia was more than twenty leagues and it would be several days before they’d arrive. Indeed, the kindly river had hurried them a bit, but its purpose was more than efficient transport, for it had granted them a merciful rest on its own journey to the virile Po.

On an early morning of a sunny mid-September day the pilgrims skillfully ruddered their crafts around a number of tiny islands and came within sight of the wharves of Pavia. Wil ordered his sailors to prepare for landing and, like seasoned seamen, they sat steady at their stations. Before sext they rowed rather deftly to the moorings and tossed their ropes to a pair of dockmen.

Wil directed his fellows to keep a close watch of their cargo while he, Karl, and Pieter searched for the sailmaker’s shop as instructed by the clerk at Stresa. The three walked confidently along the wharf’s cobbled roadway and their eyes, ears, and nostrils filled with the sights, sounds, and peculiar smells crowding the busy docks.

The wharf was busy and chaotic as workers grunted and strained at barrels of fish and crates of all sorts destined for parts all over Lombardy and beyond. Kegs of ale, wooden boxes of smoked meats and cheeses, flasks of red wine, and bales of carded wool were heaved from rocking boats and loaded on carts yoked to weary horses and a few oxen.

Karl stopped and peered into the dark, mysterious eyes of a small group of Syrian merchants who smiled at him from under silk turbans. Their robes were brightly colored, ample and soft. Each of them bowed at the two boys who bowed awkwardly in return. But Wil could not but stare at the curved knives that were secured under the foreigners’ sashes. He had heard of these weapons from the old men of Weyer. He whispered to Karl, “These are infidels! These are the enemies of all Christendom. What business do they bring here?”

One of the merchants heard the boy and laughed. “We are not infidels, my son. We bring fine spices and silken wares to your lords and masters. They think us their friends.”

Wil was confused. “You … you speak our tongue?”

“A thousand pardons, young master.
Ja
, I can speak as you. I judged by your fair hair you come from the far north, and, if I may presume to question you, I wonder what brings you to this place?”

Wil’s face belied his sudden predicament. “I … I am travelling on Crusade to … to rescue Palestine from your people.”

Karl gulped.

The merchants bowed again. “Again, a thousand pardons. May your God smile graciously upon you and may His angels bear you safely … home.”

Wil was not certain, but a quality in their tone seemed to betray some insincerity in their words! Yet the words themselves seemed right enough. The lad had a keen ear for a bold-faced barb but delicate insult was beyond his grasp. Unsure of himself, he simply gaped at the wry grins of the men who now bowed a final time and faded into the crowd.

Pieter caught up to the two boys and nudged them affectionately with his staff. “Come, lads, we’ve business to attend.”

“Did you not see those infidels, Pieter?” asked Karl.

Pieter paused and surveyed the throng of unkempt hair and woolen hats until he found several turbans grouped by a merchant’s table. “Ah, those, those … uh … infidels, aye. They have been bringing their wares from Palestine and beyond for hundreds of years. They mean you no harm.”

“But they are infidels, Pieter!” protested Karl. “Our enemy.”

Pieter sighed, wishing for a moment that all the world could be governed by such simplicity, foolish as it was. He answered, “I fear ideas as that are oft more the enemy. Perhaps their armies do us harm, but these men are simply feeding their families as do we.”

Karl and Wil shook their heads. “Nay,” Karl mused to his brother, “the old man’s off the mark. They’d be devils in sandals.” The two gaped at the olive-skinned travelers with contempt. “Their skin is nearly black and their noses are long and hooked and I saw fire in their eyes—the look of Lucifer, methinks.” Karl folded his arms.

Wil nodded. “
Ja
. They needs be driven off the Holy Land. Our warriors are right to kill them.”

Pieter grunted his disapproval but yielded the conversation. Some battles are best engaged another day. “Come, boys, follow me.”

The priest led his two charges through Pavia’s busy wharf. They squeezed past the dyemaker’s shop and the silversmith, stumbled between tables of spices and barrels of wine until at last they found the chandler’s shop and the sailmaker’s. Pieter stopped and looked carefully past both buildings that the boats’ clerk had described and then pointed. “There, lads, there it is.”

The three approached a modest, one-story wooden wharf office next to the sailmaker’s shop. A short- legged table sat in its doorway and several traders were arguing as the old man addressed them. “
Gentiluomo, scusi.”

The men stopped and stared at the tattered old man and his single-toothed grin. A beak-nosed man set his quill hard on the table and rose to his feet. Clearly annoyed, the man whined, “What business do you have? ”

“We seek Constantino, a trader in wool, whose clerk hails from Stresa by
Lago Maggiore.”

A large-bellied man with curly brown hair stepped forward. “I am Constantino. What of it, beggar? ” he growled.

“I bear thee good news,
gentile signore
. I have two barges waiting by the dock that are for you.”

“Two boats?”

“By faith. Thy clerk sent us with two boats and a shipment of your fine wool. I believe he is expecting you to return them with a cargo of your own?”

Constantino was wary. His shipments had always been announced by the oaths of burly oarsmen, not the delicate words of a disheveled priest and two boys. “And who brought these boats to me?”

“Ah,
si,
a fair question from a careful man of commerce. Truth be told,
signore,
you are setting your eyes upon three of us. The rest of our humble company are guarding your worthy crafts.”

“My clerk trusted my boats to you! Now I know he is mad!” The merchant stormed past the three and hurried toward the dock. Pieter and the boys trotted behind the cursing merchant until he abruptly stopped and stomped his feet hard on the wooden planks. “What in God’s name?” He slammed his fist into his hand. “What sort of dim-witted, dung-brained, s—”

Pieter cautioned him gently. “My lord, if you will, please regard the tender ears of those …
bambini
smiling at you.”

“Humph,” fumbled the flustered merchant. “I cannot believe my clerk would have risked these barges with the likes of these. He shall surely hear of this. You could have sunk them; you could have lost them; you could have been robbed; you could have tipped these boats and lost the cargo. Aaahh! I cannot believe he has done this!”

Wil could not understand the man’s words, but was annoyed at his rantings. “He ought fast his tongue and be grateful,” he grumbled.

“Eh? What did you say, whelp?” bellowed Constantino.

Pieter bowed. “The lad thinks you ought be rejoicing in gratitude, my lord.”

“What sort of impudent brat is this?”

“Signore
, the lad is a bit weary and injured by your apparent displeasure. After all, he was the pilot who delivered your cargo safely from a great distance. And, my friend, he did not lose a single bale of wool.”

“Be sure to tell him we now want our payment,” added Wil.

“What was that?”

Pieter paused. He wanted to win the man’s charity another way, and the boy’s impetuous manner was not helping in the least.

“Go on, tell him, Pieter.”

The old man smiled sheepishly at Constantino before taking Wil firmly by the arm. “But we were promised no payment,” he whispered.

“What is being said here?” barked Constantino. “I’ve no time for secrets and have had enough of this whelp’s disrespect. I see it in his face and hear it in his tone.” With that the merchant landed a heavy slap on the side of Wil’s head. “I take no more disrespect from the likes of you!”

Surprised, Pieter reddened with rage. He kept Wil at bay with one hand and with the other jabbed the end of his staff squarely into the chest of the merchant. He delivered his words with measured deliberation. “Thy behavior is not warranted. The lad simply reminded me that we were to receive our payment. He’d be right to ask it, so reach for thy purse and we’d be about our business.” The priest’s conciliatory tone had vanished.

Constantino pushed Pieter’s staff away. “Payment? I pay nothing to you! We had no contract.”

“I see. So, you claim to be worthy of our respect?” Pieter began loudly. “Ha! Thy very own deputy promised us payment and bound your word to it. He boasted thy family to be shrewd, but honorable. He wisely did not pay us then as a guarantee of delivery—shrewd indeed. Now I would expect you, sir, to be as honorable as he claimed.”

Constantino turned a quick eye toward the crowd now gathering. He felt a sudden unease begin to creep over him. “
Si
, my family is honorable. All here would so agree.”

“Ah, then, my honorable, respected friend, what sort of fools would bring thy cargo without promise of payment?”

Constantino shifted on his feet. Certainly none would perform such a service without payment, and perhaps his clerk had been wise to hold wages from this lot until delivery was assured. “And how do I know what was negotiated?”

Pieter felt the sealed letter in his pocket and pushed it in deeper. He fidgeted for a moment, cast an uncomfortable look at Wil, and continued. “You must needs … trust the word of this priest, my son. The payment was a modest shilling.”

The merchant sighed. A shilling was not terribly unreasonable and its payment would protect his reputation—a meager price for a treasure as that. “Priest? Ha! Well, I suppose you’ve the words and robe of a churchman so I’d not be one to judge.” He smiled and spoke loudly for all to hear. “Of course I’ll pay the fee! Constantino is fair-minded and Christian. Here,
Padre.”
The man bounced a small coin-bag in his hand and pried his thick fingers inside. “Here’d be your shilling.” He began to count pennies into the hand of a secretary.

“Ah,
si
… that was one shilling … per boat,” corrected Pieter.

“A shilling per boat!” huffed Constantino. “I’ll not be scrumped for a shilling per boat. I’ll pay no more than a half-shilling!”

“Ah, but thy honorable clerk promised us a full shilling,” insisted Pieter. “And I believe that’s what it ought be.”

“But we never pay that!”

“Ah,
si.
But thy clerk knew he was helping these
bambini
in their Holy Crusade. He claimed thy family to be shrewd, honorable …
and
charitable.”

Constantino growled, stifling a string of oaths as he ordered his secretary to fetch his strongbox. The iron-strapped box soon was set at the man’s feet and he jammed his key into the padlock. In just a few moments he filled a pouch with a dubious count of pennies and slammed it hard atop a beer keg. “There, y’swindler, here’d be payment in full and charity besides!” he roared. “Constantino cheats none and helps the poor.” He lowered his voice and snarled at Pieter. “Now take your cheat’s money and get those whelps off my boats.”

He ordered his secretary to check the cargo as Pieter bowed gratefully. “My good man, I must indeed thank thee and I wish God’s blessings …”

“Oh, enough of God’s blessings, priest! I cannot afford any more of them. Now begone with you all.”

Pieter’s eyes darted about the crowd. “Constantino, my son?”

“Eh?”

“It is good, at times, to hold to thrift, even in charity, for we must be prudent stewards of our plenty. And we are most humbly grateful for thy gift, frugal as it may be. I expect thee to be blessed in like manner. But…”

“Si,
si
… go on!”

“Ah … I scarce know how to put it.” Pieter grimaced and shook his head dramatically. “I wish not to embarrass thee before this host of thy friends, but if you could but add a few
deniers
more for the work of the Church, …”