join us. It was your own decision,” Ursula burst out. She listened to her own words with horror, but she was powerless to stop them. “It’s not
my
fault that you are here!”
“Of course not. I have never said so.” Brunostraightened up. “What ails you, Ursula?”
“Nothing,” she answered shortly and retreated into the tent, pulling the flap shut behind her. It’s not
my
fault, she repeated to herself. Nevertheless, she felt guilty. It was not a comfortable feeling.
* * *
“Father, our supplies are dwindling,” Ursula announced as Master William emerged from the tent early the next morning. In the cold light of dawn, his face looked pale and tired, the previous day’s enthusiasm evaporated away. The count had kept him very late the night before.
“Child, we are well provided for,” her father answered distractedly. “The wagon bursts at its seams.”
“True,” Ursula agreed. “But we are using things up more quickly than I had expected. Without the chickens we have no eggs, and there are weevils in the flour. Have you spoken to the count again about the bag of silver he promised us? I would feel easier if we had it.”
“The count has promised to take care of us,” her father said. His manner was evasive. “He will see to our wants.”
“But, Father—he has promised! We should hold him to his word. He is so devious—I trust him not.”
“This is not your concern, Daughter,” her father answered shortly. “The count and I have come to our arrangements. There is no need for you to worry.”
“But …” Ursula’s words were cut off as he turned irritably away from her.
“I have a few coins,” Bruno said from behind her as Master William walked away. “My master paid me before I left.”
“You had better save those for yourself, seeing as you are so worried about how things are going to turn out,” Ursula replied. Again, she regretted her harsh words the instant they were out of her mouth, but she had never accepted alms from anyone in her life and she had no intention of beginning now.
Bruno turned away without answering.
They got off to a slow start that day. More than half the company appeared to be suffering greatly from the effects of the night before. Pale, sweating men cursed wagons and beasts, accidents were more numerous than ever, and fights broke out in every quarter. It was almost noon before their wagon could move.
They passed through numerous villages on their way up the Neckar. Word of their coming had obviously gone ahead of them, and in every little town the people flocked out to see them, to wish them well, and even to press food and provisions on them.
“God speed you,” one woman called out to Ursula as their wagon passed by To Ursula’s amazement, she was holding out a live chicken in offering.
For a moment Ursula was tempted, then her pride reasserted itself. “Thank you, Mistress, but we have no need of that.”
“Weren’t you worrying about supplies?” her father observed. “That chicken would have come in very handy.”
“We have no need of charity, Father,” Ursula answered stiffly. “There are those who are in far greater want.”
Her father sighed and watched regretfully as the woman in the wagon behind them accepted the chicken greedily.
The valley began to narrow and steepen. The Neckar was not nearly as big a river as the Rhine, and the hills on either side were nowhere near as high, but the land now rose sharply on both sides of the river. The Crusaders found themselves strung out in a long, narrow file. It was difficult in these circumstances to find a place large and wide enough for them to camp. At one village, however, the land flattened out to some extent into fields that the villagers had cultivated. The Hermit stopped there.
As Bruno and Ursula set up the tent and made the evening fire, the townspeople, curious about the Crusade and anxious to hear more about it,began to filter into the camp. Many of them
my
fault that you are here!”
“Of course not. I have never said so.” Brunostraightened up. “What ails you, Ursula?”
“Nothing,” she answered shortly and retreated into the tent, pulling the flap shut behind her. It’s not
my
fault, she repeated to herself. Nevertheless, she felt guilty. It was not a comfortable feeling.
* * *
“Father, our supplies are dwindling,” Ursula announced as Master William emerged from the tent early the next morning. In the cold light of dawn, his face looked pale and tired, the previous day’s enthusiasm evaporated away. The count had kept him very late the night before.
“Child, we are well provided for,” her father answered distractedly. “The wagon bursts at its seams.”
“True,” Ursula agreed. “But we are using things up more quickly than I had expected. Without the chickens we have no eggs, and there are weevils in the flour. Have you spoken to the count again about the bag of silver he promised us? I would feel easier if we had it.”
“The count has promised to take care of us,” her father said. His manner was evasive. “He will see to our wants.”
“But, Father—he has promised! We should hold him to his word. He is so devious—I trust him not.”
“This is not your concern, Daughter,” her father answered shortly. “The count and I have come to our arrangements. There is no need for you to worry.”
“But …” Ursula’s words were cut off as he turned irritably away from her.
“I have a few coins,” Bruno said from behind her as Master William walked away. “My master paid me before I left.”
“You had better save those for yourself, seeing as you are so worried about how things are going to turn out,” Ursula replied. Again, she regretted her harsh words the instant they were out of her mouth, but she had never accepted alms from anyone in her life and she had no intention of beginning now.
Bruno turned away without answering.
They got off to a slow start that day. More than half the company appeared to be suffering greatly from the effects of the night before. Pale, sweating men cursed wagons and beasts, accidents were more numerous than ever, and fights broke out in every quarter. It was almost noon before their wagon could move.
They passed through numerous villages on their way up the Neckar. Word of their coming had obviously gone ahead of them, and in every little town the people flocked out to see them, to wish them well, and even to press food and provisions on them.
“God speed you,” one woman called out to Ursula as their wagon passed by To Ursula’s amazement, she was holding out a live chicken in offering.
For a moment Ursula was tempted, then her pride reasserted itself. “Thank you, Mistress, but we have no need of that.”
“Weren’t you worrying about supplies?” her father observed. “That chicken would have come in very handy.”
“We have no need of charity, Father,” Ursula answered stiffly. “There are those who are in far greater want.”
Her father sighed and watched regretfully as the woman in the wagon behind them accepted the chicken greedily.
The valley began to narrow and steepen. The Neckar was not nearly as big a river as the Rhine, and the hills on either side were nowhere near as high, but the land now rose sharply on both sides of the river. The Crusaders found themselves strung out in a long, narrow file. It was difficult in these circumstances to find a place large and wide enough for them to camp. At one village, however, the land flattened out to some extent into fields that the villagers had cultivated. The Hermit stopped there.
As Bruno and Ursula set up the tent and made the evening fire, the townspeople, curious about the Crusade and anxious to hear more about it,began to filter into the camp. Many of them
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