The Silver Cup by Constance Leeds Page A

counting.” Hagan stopped for a moment and closed his eyes. “Like a school of bluefish. Frenzied feeding bluefish. Have you ever seen those ocean fish when they feed?”
    â€œNo,” answered Gunther.
    â€œAh, a terrifying sight. Well, these weren’t soldiers but an angry, hungry mass, schooling through our streets, looking for any food or drink or loot. My town’s people have little enough to feed themselves. So there we were with this boiling throng out for Jewish plunder and blood.” He rubbed his eyes with his thick palms.
    Hagan’s tale was making Anna more and more uneasy, and as she listened, she turned the blue mug in her hands, examining the fish design along its rim.
    â€œEmich’s men were joined by my neighbors, and together, they ripped apart the Jewish neighborhood. Old men with canes, women with babies still at the breast. Everyone robbed, beaten, stabbed. Slaughtered. Isn’t this too horrifying for your daughter’s ears?” said Hagan turning to Gunther.
    â€œAnna, go wait in the garden.”
    â€œNo. Please, Father.”
    â€œPerhaps we should go now,” said Gunther.
    â€œWait, there’s more,” said Hagan. “In the square near the Martinstor, I saw, with my own eyes, two Jewish girls, younger than your Anna, raped over and over, and then beheaded while people laughed. I saw young children pierced through with swords and flung into the streets like sacks of grain. Men and women bloodied, screaming, praying to their god. The streets filled with bodies, and the mob fell upon the dead, stealing every possession, every shred.”
    Hagan stood and walked to the doorway, and leaning against the jamb he continued, with his wide back to Anna and Gunther, who had risen to leave but still listened.
    â€œEverything was taken, stolen. Houses were pulled apart, and their synagogue was torched. It smelled like hell itself. Who could imagine that yesterday could be worse still?”
    â€œWhat happened yesterday?” asked Anna, afraid to hear.
    â€œYesterday? Yesterday, they defiled the cathedral close. Any Jews who escaped fled to Saint Peter’s to ask our bishop for protection. He said he would save them if they accepted baptism. The stiff-necked Jews refused, and the mob stormed the bishop’s house. St. Peter’s echoed with the howling. Every Jew was killed, killed and stripped. So there we are. Today is Wednesday? For three days your Emich raged, a storm of hate and death in Worms. Today you will find calm. The storm moved north I hear, and my city is fouled and unholy. Go home. If Martin is with this mob, leave him to his fate.”
    Anna struggled to absorb what Hagan was saying, but it was too horrible. Martin could never do such things, she thought. Then she remembered how he had always spoken of Jews. Or could he?
    â€œFather, please! We must find Martin.”
    â€œI must. You stay here, Anna. I’ll return for you as soon as I’ve delivered the swords.”
    â€œDon’t leave me here. Let me stay with you.” Anna began to cry.
    Gunther looked down at his daughter, drew his hand slowly across his mouth, and hesitated. Hagan raised his brow and leaned toward Anna. “You’ll need some cloth to cover your mouth. My city is a reeking pyre.”
    Gunther reached into his sleeve and handed Anna a piece of woolen cloth he carried to cover his mouth when the road was dusty. It smelled of him, and Anna was grateful.

19
    THE GIRL
    May 21, 1096
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Anna and Gunther trudged uphill through the deserted city toward the towers of the Cathedral of Saint Peter and the marketplace. As they passed a well, Anna remembered that Hagan had said there had been a rumor that the well water had been poisoned. Emich had claimed that the city’s Jews boiled a man alive. By pouring that tainted water into the city’s wells, the Jews had hoped to sicken Emich’s army. Hearing the story, the mob began