The Silver Cup (14 page)

“What is it, Anna? ”

“I don't know. I was thinking about your life, about all you've lost. You are so alone.”

“Except for you.”

“I want you to stay here always.”

“But, Anna, I cannot.”

“There's nowhere for you to go. Lukas says there aren't any of your people left in Worms, nor in the next town north along the River. After Worms, Emich attacked Mainz, and even more Jews were killed. Lukas says all the Jews along the river have been murdered or fled. He says there's nowhere for you that's safe. Except here as one of us.”

“Lukas seems to worry about me a lot, doesn't he? Perhaps too much.”

“Lukas means well, Leah. He's trying to save you.”

“Anna, what did my family die for? I would rather be dead than be baptized.”

“I know,” said Anna sadly. “Lukas walked me home after church this morning. I think he is beginning to understand. But where can you go?”

“How many days do you think are we from Strasbourg?”

“Strasbourg?”

“There is a family in Strasbourg.” Leah said, “That is, if the Jews in that city were spared. Four springs ago I was betrothed to their son—”

“Betrothed?”

“I wouldn't have married for several more years. I've never even met him. His father and mine were trading partners. They must think I'm dead.”

“You are betrothed?” asked Anna, shocked.

“Yes. If I can get to his family, I can live as my father wanted me to live. I can have children, Jewish children. A son I will name for my father.”

Anna's throat tightened, and she felt very sad. “You will leave me. I have no one, and I never will. I'll never be betrothed.”

“Because of me?”

“No. No, I just think I'll always be alone. Lukas keeps saying not to worry.”

Anna thought of her conversation with Lukas that morning.

“Anna, stop worrying,” Lukas had reassured her. “Your father is becoming a rich man, and your blood is half noble. I promise you'll find a husband.”

“Who would want me now?” Anna said with a sigh.

“Cousin, you're fair enough, and besides,” he had laughed, “your dowry will entice many.”

“So Father will have to buy my husband?” Anna shook her head. “Do you think I was wrong to bring Leah here?”

“No. You were brave.”

“I wouldn't have been so brave if I had known how others would treat me. Leah is the one who is brave.”

“Is she brave or stubborn? I wish she would just accept our Lord.”

“She won't Lukas. Not ever.”

“I think you are right, Anna. And yet, I don't really think she is stubborn. She is resolute. I'm very confused. I ask myself, how is Leah evil? She's but a girl and the victim of a terrible crime. Then I think of this holy war that Our Pope has unleashed. How can those soldiers be doing the Lord's work?
They
will be rewarded with a place in heaven? I'm not sure I'll ever be much of a priest; I don't even know if I am a good Christian.” said Lukas sadly.

“I'm not sure of anything anymore. But sometimes I think there must be two heavens, like two cities. One for Christians and one for Leah's people,” answered Anna.

25

FLIES AND CURSES

 
A swift whistled. Robins and meadow pipits twittered. But no one woke up cheerfully in Anna's household. A nighttime rainstorm had brought little relief, and the hot summer morning found their world steamy and limp. Anna paddled her arms like mill wheels to keep the flies from her face and hair, as she coughed and gagged in the airless privy. Still swatting, she returned to the house and found that Leah had begun to open the doors and shutters. The smoky oak rafters fouled the house with the bitter smell of past fires, but Leah smiled brightly at her friend.

Since Gunther had returned from Cologne a few days earlier, he had been weary and slept a lot. He had awakened early on this stifling morning, and now he came from the garden with wet matted hair and a rare smile. He held a full basket of wild blackberries, and both girls were cheered. They circled stools in the shade of the pear tree and shared the sour berries and some hard bread softened with sweet butter. The garden hummed with bees. Leah flicked a stick with a horse hair switch to keep the breakfast free of flies.

“You see, Leah? Even you can enjoy yourself here with us in the shade of this tree.”

“This is a breakfast even an infidel can enjoy, sir.”

Anna laughed.

“You girls get on well,” said Gunther. “It's already too hot today. I think I'll hunt in the forest. Perhaps I can snare some birds.”

Anna was surprised by the change in her father. Since his return, he had been more talkative and easier, especially with Leah.

“Father, there's a market this morning, in front of the church. May I take Leah?”

“I think not, Anna.”

“But—”

“No, Anna. Stay home.”

So the girls worked in the house, and after they noticed Agnes departing with her ample market basket slung over arm, they went to the garden, where they pulled onions and picked young peas. By mid morning the heat from the sun was visible, and the girls were damp and tired of the flies. Anna cooked the onions and peas and made oat-and-wheat-flour flat bread. When the sun had passed its high point, Gunther reappeared with a string of small wood doves that he plucked and gutted and set on a spit over the fire.

“Well, Anna, I had luck this morning. And we'll live as well as King Heinrich if Karl and I are lucky tonight.”

“Uncle Karl?”

“Yes. I saw Karl this morning,” said Gunther, clearly happy. “Agnes is staying at the mill with Elisabeth, so he and I will fish together tonight. Leah can eat fish, yes? ”

“Fish with scales, Master Gunther,” answered Leah.

“Scales? Tch, tch. So many rules for such a small girl.”

Anna saw that her father was smiling as he helped carry the table boards and trestles to the shade of the garden. When the doves were well roasted, Anna and Leah served them with the vegetables in two wooden bowls. Using spoons and pieces of flat bread, they sopped up the happy summer meal.

“Father, may we to go to the stream to pick pudding grass? ”

“Pudding grass? For what? ” asked Gunther.

“Leah knows how to make a salve to keep off flies.”

“I'd enjoy that. Your mother used to make salves, but I don't remember one to keep away flies,” said Gunther, squashing a fly with his hand. “I think I saw purple flowers along the far bank.”

“May we go? ”

“Yes. The whole town is at the market. If you go early, no one will be by the stream. There will be games this afternoon now that hay is cut. I think I'll pass near the games, so everyone knows that I am nearby. Take Smudge, and don't stay long.”

Anna rinsed the bowls and helped bring the stools and table inside. Then she and Leah took a basket, and with Smudge, they set off. The sky was blue, and a breeze rustled the leaves and pressed the long grass, but the day remained hot, and the girls walked slowly. Smudge trotted along warily, circling close to the girls. They could hear the noise of the games, and at each outburst, Smudge would turn, his ears flat against his woolen head. But as Gunther expected, the stream was deserted. Leah scampered over the bank and sloshed along the stream, enjoying the coolness. She and Anna gathered handfuls of the weedy pudding grass until the basket was full. They splashed Smudge and each other until his fur dripped and their kirtles were heavy and clung to their legs. Then Smudge began to growl.

Looking up, Anna saw Dieter and two boys approaching. Their faces were red and wet.

“Look. It's Anna and her filthy little Jew. What do you think you're doing? She'll poison the water.”

“Leave us alone, Dieter. The water is clean, and you could stand some cooling,” Anna said calmly, trying to ignore her pounding heart.

“And you could stand a lesson, Anna.”

“We're leaving, Dieter. Let us be.”

“Your cousin Martin would want me to take care of the Jewess,” leered Dieter.

As he moved toward Leah, Anna stepped in front of the girl. Smudge began barking and showing his teeth, and Anna held him by the scruff of his neck as the dog grew more and more angry at the threatening young man. Dieter leaned down and found a stick that he raised over the dog, but before he could strike, Leah came from behind and pointed at Dieter.

“May your firstborn son walk with his toes pointed inward,” she intoned in a hoarse, grating voice that even Anna did not recognize.

Dieter dropped the stick, his mouth open. The other boys backed away. Anna held Smudge who was lunging and whining. Dieter stared ashen faced at Leah who wagged her thin finger and swayed, humming, keening, and then chanting a peculiar, eery tune in a voice unlike any human's:

The boys turned and ran from the stream. Anna looked as frightened as the boys, and when Leah saw her face, she began to laugh.

“Anna, you can't think I've done magic.”

“But you sounded so awful. I heard your curse. And then those foreign words. I thought —”

“If I could work magic, my family would be with me. No, that was the Hebrew prayer my father would say over the Sabbath wine. But the voice was good. Wasn't it? ”

“Yes. Too good. I was sure it was some evil force.”

Leah laughed. “
You
have a lovely singing voice, but I could never sing at all. Still, I used to frighten my little brothers with ugly voices. And my curse—that his first born's feet turn in—how scary was that? ”

Anna began to laugh too. “Not even a little. Whose feet don't turn in? Better than walking like a duck.” And Anna began to waddle along the bank.

“Yes. And when those boys think about it, I hope they'll be too embarrassed to accuse me of anything. Everyone would know what cowards they are,” added Leah.

“We must tell Lukas. This is a tale that will make him laugh.”

Lukas laughed so hard he had to sit, and later, to Anna's surprise, Gunther laughed aloud at girls' adventure.

“But I should never have let you go alone. You and Leah must be very careful. Not everyone is as easily fooled as Dieter. Many would like to see the town rid of Leah. I have heard her blamed for everything from storms to cankers,” Gunther said. “I'm glad to see she can keep her wits.”

“I have little else, sir.”

“You must never leave this house alone. This is a small town. The people do not welcome strangers.”

“You mean Jews,” said Leah.

“We have never had one of your people among us. You must be especially careful when I am away. Always bar the windows and doors.”

What was it about Leah that changed everything?
Outside their household, everyone had become unfriendly, even threatening. Inside, the household itself had come alive and warm with the girls' friendship. Even Gunther was affected. Martin's insults were replaced by Leah's compliments.
Maybe now Father can see that I am not so worthless,
thought Anna as she went to the garden and picked rosemary and thyme to mix with the flowering pudding grass.

Leah steeped the herbs in a pot of water over the coals. When most of the liquid had evaporated, the girls used a smooth, clean stone to mash the leaves and stalks. Then they pressed the soggy mixture through a piece of cloth creating a dark herbal tea which they returned to the pot. Gunther gave Leah a small block of beeswax that she carefully grated into the pot. As wax melted, she swirled the pot with a stick until the wax and the plant juices combined to form a thick hot mixture with an agreeably sharp aroma. Anna poured the potion into an empty clay butter tub and set it to cool.

“In the morning we'll have a salve to rub on our faces,” said Leah.

“And maybe the flies will stay away,” said Anna.

“It will work,” said Leah.

“You know so many things!”

“But no magic. You know more about cooking and cleaning than my mother, and you work as hard as three women. You know so much, Anna, but not about yourself. Who are you named for?”

“Saint Anne. The mother of the Virgin.”

“The grandmother of the Nazarene?”

“Yes. And for my father's mother, who was also named Anna.”

“Your grandmother?” asked Leah.

“Yes. She died when my father was born. I know nothing about her. What about you, Leah? Tell me about your name.”

“I'm named for a heroine in our holy book. Hers isn't a happy story.”

“Tell me.”

“Leah was the older, ugly sister to a beautiful girl named Rachel. Poor Leah was weak eyed and clumsy.”

Leah crossed her eyes, and Anna laughed.

“There was a man named Jakob whow loved the beautiful Rachel, but after seven years of working for the father of the sisters, Jakob was tricked into marrying Leah. Still, after another seven years of working for his father-in-law, Jakob was allowed to marry Rachel too.”

“Two wives?”

“This is an old tale, Anna. Though I've heard in some lands, Jews still have more than one wife.”

“I'd hate that,” said Anna. “What if you weren't the favorite wife?”

“Leah surely wasn't Jakob's favorite. But she bore him many sons.”

“And Rachel?”

“She bore only two sons.”

“Good.”