conversant with Church lore.”
“Then you should make it your task to become conversant, sir,” he said. His grey eyes were angry. “And you should consider your manners, also. You should think of making their improvement another goal.”
“I’m much obliged for the advice, brother,” I said. “I shall consider it.”
“Best do so, sir.”
Against my saner judgment I remained where I was, even though the older man wished me to leave. Eventually he rose and went to sit beside Sedenko, speaking in a voice too low for me to overhear. I continued to drink my beer, however, and to give them my attention. The youth was undisturbed, but the soldier-priest remained uncomfortable, which, out of sheer devilment, I wished him to be.
At last, with a curse ill-befitting a celibate man of God, he got up from the bench and drew the youth with him to the door. They went outside into the yard.
I had amused myself long enough. I drained my tankard, shouted for the landlord, paid him and asked that my horse be fetched for me.
In a little while I peered through the window to see that the ostler had returned with my steed. I donned my helmet, folded my cloak under my arm and opened the door.
Klosterheim and the Muscovite were deep in conversation on the far side of the yard. As I emerged, Klosterheim turned his back on me.
The sun was shining strong and hot as I mounted. I cried: “Farewell, brother. Farewell, Heir Sedenko.” And I urged the beast out of the courtyard toward the open road.
The sun had gone down by the time I sighted, in the twilit mist, the spires and rooftops of Teufenberg. It was a pleasant enough little town with a population that was only reasonably suspicious of a man like myself, on a good horse and in armour, and I had hardly any difficulty finding a hostelry with room for me and my horse. Again, to relieve my host’s perturbation, I told the story of being an envoy commissioned to try to bring peace to the warring factions and, naturally enough, was given a much-improved welcome.
In the morning I was directed onto the road for Schweinfurt and wished Godspeed in my mission by the landlord, his wife, his son-in-law and his three daughters. I had almost begun to believe that I was the hero I presented myself as being!
On the outskirts of the town I passed a house which had a crowd surrounding it. Men, women and children stood packed together, watching wide-eyed as a group of people in black began to emerge from the house. The women were wailing and the boys and girls were pale and stunned. They were carrying three corpses from the house.
I wondered if this had anything to do with the pair I had encountered on the previous day.
I asked one fat townsman what had happened.
“It’s the Jews,” he said. “All the men were struck down in the night by the Sword of God. It is His vengeance upon them for their crimes.”
I was disgusted. Their fate was familiar enough, but I had not expected to witness such an event in the pleasant town of Teufenberg.
I did not wait to hear the catalogue of crimes, for it would be the same wretched list one heard from the Baltic to the Black Sea.
Grimly, I spurred my horse and was more than glad when I reached the highway. The air seemed purer. I galloped a few miles until Teufenberg was completely out of sight, then I let my horse walk for a while.
In one sense I was grateful for what I had seen that morning in Teufenberg. I had been reminded of the realities of the world which lay ahead of me.
Chapter V
THE WEATHER GREW warmer and warmer as the miles between Teufenberg and Schweinfurt narrowed. It was almost like summer and I was tempted, against my ordinary caution, to divest myself of some of my armour. But I kept it on, pouring a dram of water into my shirt occasionally to cool me. The roads were fairly good, there having been little rain in recent days and few armies to churn them up, and I was lucky in that, every night, I found reasonably pleasant
“Then you should make it your task to become conversant, sir,” he said. His grey eyes were angry. “And you should consider your manners, also. You should think of making their improvement another goal.”
“I’m much obliged for the advice, brother,” I said. “I shall consider it.”
“Best do so, sir.”
Against my saner judgment I remained where I was, even though the older man wished me to leave. Eventually he rose and went to sit beside Sedenko, speaking in a voice too low for me to overhear. I continued to drink my beer, however, and to give them my attention. The youth was undisturbed, but the soldier-priest remained uncomfortable, which, out of sheer devilment, I wished him to be.
At last, with a curse ill-befitting a celibate man of God, he got up from the bench and drew the youth with him to the door. They went outside into the yard.
I had amused myself long enough. I drained my tankard, shouted for the landlord, paid him and asked that my horse be fetched for me.
In a little while I peered through the window to see that the ostler had returned with my steed. I donned my helmet, folded my cloak under my arm and opened the door.
Klosterheim and the Muscovite were deep in conversation on the far side of the yard. As I emerged, Klosterheim turned his back on me.
The sun was shining strong and hot as I mounted. I cried: “Farewell, brother. Farewell, Heir Sedenko.” And I urged the beast out of the courtyard toward the open road.
The sun had gone down by the time I sighted, in the twilit mist, the spires and rooftops of Teufenberg. It was a pleasant enough little town with a population that was only reasonably suspicious of a man like myself, on a good horse and in armour, and I had hardly any difficulty finding a hostelry with room for me and my horse. Again, to relieve my host’s perturbation, I told the story of being an envoy commissioned to try to bring peace to the warring factions and, naturally enough, was given a much-improved welcome.
In the morning I was directed onto the road for Schweinfurt and wished Godspeed in my mission by the landlord, his wife, his son-in-law and his three daughters. I had almost begun to believe that I was the hero I presented myself as being!
On the outskirts of the town I passed a house which had a crowd surrounding it. Men, women and children stood packed together, watching wide-eyed as a group of people in black began to emerge from the house. The women were wailing and the boys and girls were pale and stunned. They were carrying three corpses from the house.
I wondered if this had anything to do with the pair I had encountered on the previous day.
I asked one fat townsman what had happened.
“It’s the Jews,” he said. “All the men were struck down in the night by the Sword of God. It is His vengeance upon them for their crimes.”
I was disgusted. Their fate was familiar enough, but I had not expected to witness such an event in the pleasant town of Teufenberg.
I did not wait to hear the catalogue of crimes, for it would be the same wretched list one heard from the Baltic to the Black Sea.
Grimly, I spurred my horse and was more than glad when I reached the highway. The air seemed purer. I galloped a few miles until Teufenberg was completely out of sight, then I let my horse walk for a while.
In one sense I was grateful for what I had seen that morning in Teufenberg. I had been reminded of the realities of the world which lay ahead of me.
Chapter V
THE WEATHER GREW warmer and warmer as the miles between Teufenberg and Schweinfurt narrowed. It was almost like summer and I was tempted, against my ordinary caution, to divest myself of some of my armour. But I kept it on, pouring a dram of water into my shirt occasionally to cool me. The roads were fairly good, there having been little rain in recent days and few armies to churn them up, and I was lucky in that, every night, I found reasonably pleasant
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