Free The Silver Cup by Constance Leeds

coaxing. It was hard to stay angry with Martin.
    â€œWhat kind of fish broth and peas are we about to enjoy? ” Martin joked as he inhaled the steam from the pot.
    â€œDon’t blame me for Lent.” Anna stirred the pot and tasted the meal. She wrinkled her nose and was embarrassed.
    â€œLent lasts forever,” sighed Martin.
    â€œI think we’re at the bottom of our herring barrel.”
    â€œThere’ll be more, soon enough. Your father and I will bring back herring and salted codfish.”
    â€œBring back some fresh fish, too. I hate herring. Nasty little fish, filled with salt and bones.”
    â€œCousin, if you could cook like my mother, we might have delicious oat cakes and stews with smoked fish that would taste like pork bacon.”
    â€œI’ll never cook as well as your mother.”
    â€œWell, Mother can’t sing as well as you. And besides, even Mother struggles during Lent.”
    â€œHow I long for an egg or a sip of milk! Heaven must be filled with sausages. And it must always be Lent in hell,” said Anna, setting a bowl of warm water in front of Martin.
    â€œThen I guess I’m doomed to an eternity of herring,” answered Martin. “Another reason to take the cross, and fight the Pope’s holy war.”
    â€œBig talk, Martin.”
    â€œWe’ll see. You talk more than anyone. I shall do something.”
    He began to rinse his hands in the water.
    â€œI know,” said Anna. “All I do is talk. And I’ll probably be damned for complaining. Instead of thinking of my sins, I dream about sausages.”
    â€œI have bigger dreams, Anna. Stop complaining, the days are lengthening. Lent will end soon.”
    Martin wiped his hands on his britches and dumped the bowl of water back in the pot on the hearth.
    â€œThat’s filthy!”
    â€œNot very.” He smiled and asked, “What do you think I did this morning?”
    â€œSomething was tortured, I’m sure.”
    Martin rolled his eyes, “Very amusing, cousin. No, you wouldn’t believe the work my father has, what with this holy war.”
    â€œFather says it’s all talk. No one from this town will actually go.”
    â€œYour other cousins are going. They’ve asked my father to make a sword and helmet for Magnus.”
    Martin helped Anna set the boards across the trestles to serve as a table for dinner.
    â€œGood riddance!” said Anna. “I hope the Turks skin them alive!”
    â€œYou should see the armor that was your grandfather’s. It’s being fitted for Wilhelm. All morning I rolled it in sand to clean off the rust. Then we rubbed it with goose fat until it gleamed. My great-grandfather made the suit. Our great-grandfather. Come to the forge to see it. He was your great-grandfather too; you carry the blood of the craftsman and the knight.”
    â€œI’d like to. Perhaps this afternoon.”
    â€œGood, then you’ll see all the other swords, spears, and arrowheads that are being made for the armies coming together for this holy war.”
    â€œLukas says those who talk of ‘taking the cross’ are those with nothing.”
    â€œPerhaps. These times have not been hard on my father’s trade or even on Gunther’s, but for the farmers it hs been a poor growing season. There are enough empty bellies to field a grand army,” said Martin.
    For more than two years, throughout the valleys along the Rhine, the harvests had been especially poor. In the spring and summer of 1094, there had been no rain. Fields were parched and lifeless. The harvest was meager, and by the grim winter of 1095, hunger was widespread. Spring followed with another blow— too much rain, and farms were flooded. Villages vanished and sheep drowned as the river crested far beyond its course, wiping its banks clean. Anna would sometimes see the hollow-eyed survivors. They spent their days in the church, hoping for mercy