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Pilgrims of Promise(153)

By:C. D. Baker

The old priest shrugged and thought for a long moment. “Well, I’ve had a long journey, my children, one often limited to the measurements of my senses. I have tasted fine food and touched the rough faces of mountains. I have smelled the fragrance of the rose and listened to the songbirds. I have seen the wonders of what God has made. I have grown in knowledge, and my mind has considered the great doctrines of Holy Scripture.

“But I fear that I have oft been confined to that which my senses bring to me. My knowledge of things seen has held me captive. I have failed to go beyond what seems reasonable to my mind. So I say this: what we measure by our sight is truth in part, but we do, indeed, see through the glass darkly. Truth also dwells in the great Unknown.

“My beloved, study to show thyselves approved. Use your minds well and do not be deceived by fools and their fantasies. But also, be still and know that He is God. It is good to increase in knowledge and to test things by reason, but I believe we must listen to the silence so much more; it is the way of faith.”

Above, the birds suddenly cried out, and all eyes turned upward to watch them lift from their perches. The pilgrims said nothing as their three winged companions swooped into a great arc around them and flapped their way eastward.

Alwin rose. “We should move. We cannot stay by this road much longer, for it is already beginning to fill. I say we keep to this side of the Lahn until we reach Marburg. It should take us about three days.”

It was quickly agreed, and the company began on their way. They first traveled eastward, walking overland within sight of the sluggish Lahn and the highway paralleling its green waters. They looked longingly at the wagons rolling so easily along the road and wished for all the world that they might have the liberty to do the same. But at the sight of every company of knights roaring past, they were content to trudge behind the cover of the softwoods lining the narrow meadows of the river. Behind them the long, low ridges of lower Thurungia were gradually sinking lower. Ahead waited the lumpy mountains of the duchy’s heartland.

It was on the feast of Lammas, Thursday, the first day of August, when Wil led his brave band across the bridge at Marburg and through the growing town’s gates. The column of thirteen souls and two kindly beasts made their way quickly through a throng of revelers toward the home of Alwin’s friend. The town was built on a conical mountain atop which was perched a menacing redstone castle. Brick-paved streets wound their way upward to the fortress like narrow serpents coiled around a stump. Lining the narrow streets were well-built houses and heavy-timbered shops that leaned over the passersby like curious onlookers.

“Seems like a wealthy town,” said Benedetto.

“Aye,” answered Alwin. “Its lord is clever and ruthless, but the folk are hardworking and honest, as I recall. My friend is a salt merchant and has made a small fortune with a contract from Ulm. He does a good business with the Templars as well. I escorted him and his silver to Paris some years past, and I once guarded a wagon of his salt from Ulm to Strasbourg.”

Heinrich grumbled. He knew more about salt than he cared to remember. “How much farther?”

“Soon.”

The wayfarers struggling up the town’s steep hills were soon hot and perspiring. The summer sun beat upon them, and the buildings rising close by every side blocked any breeze. Paulus was heavily frothed with sweat and had slipped twice, dumping Pieter to the ground. The townsfolk howled as the spindly fellow bounced on the bricks with a wheeze and an oath.

“Ach, stupid beast!” grumbled the priest as he fell a third time. He pulled himself up on his staff and shook his head. Aching, he bowed to the laughing crowd. “Ha! Fit as a young stag!” he cried as he beat his chest facetiously. He turned to his smiling companions and wiped his face. “God be praised! I could Ve shattered both m’Trips!”

At last, as the column turned a corner, Alwin pointed to a three-storied house at the end of the street. “There!” he cried happily. “The one of brick and stone.”

The knight ran to the door and rapped on it loudly. In a few moments, an usher answered, received Alwin’s introduction, and then disappeared within. Shortly after, a well-dressed man appeared and greeted the knight with a large smile. “Old friend! Brother Blasius!” he cried. “I would not have known you. Come! Come in, all of you! Hans!” he shouted to a servant. “Have the groomsman take the donkey to the stable. Jon, bring pitchers of beer, and hurry!”

Within the half hour, the happy company was properly introduced and resting comfortably within the confínes of the merchant’s home. “You’ve come on the right day!” The merchant laughed. “I’ve guests in the hall making ready for their Lammas feast, but we’ve room for more.”