The Silver Cup by Constance Leeds Read Free Book Online Page A

“So, there, on the platform, were twin giants, dressed in white and holding glittering crosses of gold, flanking the holy Pope, who is very tall himself.”
    â€œPope Urban is called the Golden Pope,” added Gunther.
    â€œBecause he has long golden hair and a beard of gold. The Golden Pope called for a war!” Martin continued. “A war to save Jerusalem, the very place where the holy feet of our Lord touched the ground. Pagans are burning churches and killing Christian pilgrims. The Pope called on every man to become a knight of Christ and rid Jerusalem of the enemies of the faith—dark-skinned Turks, evil Persians, and murdering Jews. Each soldier will be forgiven all his sins, forgiven for every sin ever committed.”
    Anna interrupted. “Oh, Martin, wouldn’t you love to see Jerusalem? ”
    â€œYes, with all my heart,” said Martin, thumping his chest. “It’s the center of the earth! You should hear the tales I’ve heard from pilgrims, tales of glittering pearl walls and churches domed in bright gold. Jerusalem is always filled with sunlight, and windows there are never shuttered. The land is perfumed by soft winds bearing spices and incense. Winter never comes, and fruits and flowers grow throughout the year. The children play games with rubies and diamonds while songbirds sing from flowering trees. The Pope will reward every soldier with a share of these riches, and then, all are promised a place in heaven forever. Each man who took the vow received a cross of scarlet cloth to sew on his sleeve,” said Martin, tracing an imaginary cross on his own shoulder.
    â€œDo you think men from our town will take a cross?” asked Anna.
    â€œEveryone will want to join! Think of the riches and the glory!”
    â€œMartin is full of tales and hero’s dreams, Anna,” said Gunther. “Few in our town will feel as he does. Most have never traveled beyond the river bank. I cannot see them leaving home for a journey that will take years.”
    â€œI can! I should love to see Jerusalem and kill an infidel,” cried Martin his face glowing. “Don’t you want to take up your sword, Uncle?
    â€œNo, Martin. I have no wish to fight anyone. Besides, little will come of this armed pilgrimage. The snows will keep us home for now. By spring everyone will forget all this,” said Gunther.
    â€œNot me,” said Martin.
    â€œWell, we’ll see. Perhaps this call will relieve us of some of the bored young nobles who plague the roads,” said Gunther.
    â€œI just heard the miller had to pay a toll to your brother’s sons for use of the little wooden bridge south of town,” said Martin.
    â€œMagnus?” asked Anna.
    â€œYes, your wolfish cousin Magnus and his fawning brother, Wilhelm.”
    â€œI hope those cousins go at least as far as Jerusalem ,” said Anna.
    â€œThere they can kill the Arabs and Jews, and then all their crimes will be forgiven,” said Martin.
    â€œFather? That day in the autumn, when I went with you to Worms . . . ”
    â€œYes, Anna? ”
    â€œThere was a Jewish family at the silversmith, the heavy man with three children.”
    â€œYes. The spice merchant. We made knives for him.”
    â€œHis daughter had the most beautiful dress.”
    â€œAnna I told you how rich those Jews are. I saw their house,” said Martin.
    â€œWe could do worse than trade with Jakob,” said Gunther.
    â€œThey’re the devil’s people,” said Martin.
    â€œAre they, Father?”
    â€œMartin knows nothing.”
    â€œTrust me! His children have horns—little horns under their hair,” said Martin, dancing around Anna and wiggling one finger next to each of his ears. “Like goats or devils.”
    Gunther shook his head disapprovingly and added wood to the hearth. The log spit and sparked.
    â€œI’ll bet you know the devil himself, Martin,” said