Pilgrims of Promise by C. D. Baker Read Free Book Online Page A

to the east to join the crusade in Cologne.”
    “ Ja , sir. My father is a free merchant in the lands of Lord Ohrsbach. He took me to the fair in Cologne when Nicholas was preaching of crusade.”
    The baker nodded. “I see. Very well then. You’re to be the other captain.”
    Heinrich raised his hand over the quieting assembly. “Hear me, all of you. We shall divide you into two groups of twenty. Each group will report to one captain. Over the captains is Otto, whom we shall call ‘Master,’ and over Otto is Wil, Father Pieter, and m’self. When Wil is healed, he shall be your leader, while Father Pieter and me will be his counselors. Is that understood?”
    The children whispered amongst themselves. Most thought it a reasonable order of things. What Pieter lacked in menace, Heinrich had; what Heinrich lacked in wit, Pieter had. Wil, of course, was one of them and, as such, their true leader.
    “Master Otto!” called Heinrich. “See that the groups are arranged. Keep the girls and little ones divided evenly.”
    The thirteen-year-old puffed his chest. Master! he said to himself. I like the sound of that!
    Pieter drew Heinrich aside. “Tis time we were leaving. Paul will not be dissuaded, and his group will enter the city about an hour past compline. If my memory holds, the monastery I spoke of is about six leagues south. With this bunch I fear it is a three-day march.”
    “You think Wil can travel safely?”
    “I do. His litter is sturdy.”
    “And what about food along the way?”
    “I’ve no idea. We’ll pray for mercy.”
    Heinrich sighed. “Forty of us and barely more than a turnip or a pea! I’ve some gold that should help and some silver pennies.”
    “Ja, my son. But we must not forget we’ve a long journey north when winter’s past. We should use your gold coins sparingly. How many have you?”
    The two walked out of view, where Heinrich reached into his badly worn satchel and retrieved the pouch once presented by the old tinker of Salzburg—the gift from poor Dietmar of Gratz. He lifted it and handed it to Pieter.
    As the priest untied the bag, he stared inside and informed Heinrich that the coins were likely minted in Sicily. “Ducats … they’re precious and valued all over Christendom.”
    “Aye.” Heinrich picked one out and set it aside. “I’ve a special use for this one,” he said. He then grabbed a handful and began dropping them one at a time into Pieter’s joined palms. As they fell, each counted coin clinked atop the others like the sound of rain on thirsty ground, and when the counting was done, the two men looked at one another in astonishment.
    “Amazing!”
    “Unbelievable!”
    “How can it be so?”
    “Forty!” exclaimed Heinrich.
    Pieter grinned. “Ah, the angels are surely with us. One gold coin for each child! God be praised!”
    The pair returned to their company and immediately disclosed the plan to leave within the hour and to travel by night until they were beyond the wrath of Genoa. Surprised, the children were immediately anxious. Travel by night was a fearsome thing. Evil was known to lurk in darkness—highwaymen, wicked villains, beasts, spirits, and dreaded creatures of legend. They might become lost to wander endlessly in the mountains rising steeply from the sea. Or they might stumble upon some unseen precipice, only to fall into the merciless black waters below. “Pieter,” said Otto, “surely not by night.”
    The priest understood, as did Heinrich. The baker, too, had ventured out in darkness along some fearsome trails. He thought of the Bohemian swamp and shuddered. Pieter nodded. “ Ja , but know this: your enemies fear as well. You’ve suffered far more than they, and your sufferings have made you stronger than them all.”
    “But you’ve not yet said where we’ll be going?” Otto asked.
    “We’ve spies about, Otto, so I cannot say. I ask that you trust Herr Heinrich and m’self until we’ve begun our journey.”
    Still worried,