Crusade Read Online Free Page B

fighting,’ Gregor retorted. ‘I cannot be held back by a crying girl scared of the sight of blood. Why doesn’t she stay home and take care of you?’
    Georgette was indignant. She was not scared of the sight of blood: indeed, only the previous week she and Patrice had served as Father David’s assistants in stitching and dressing the gory wounds of a stray dog. But she was suddenly troubled by Gregor’s question – why wasn’t she staying with her father? He did need her; it was true. But the journey to save the Promised Land loomed as a mountain over the small hill of her father’s desire for a hot meal ready when he returned from his labour. He would manage alone; she knew he could manage. And as for taking care of Father David, why, she was sure he would be honoured to lend her to a crusade for beloved Jesus Christ. And women from the village could help him with his meals while she was away.
     
    Very early the next morning, Georgette packed the things she would take with her on her journey. There was not much. She placed in the centre of her horsehair blanket a sharpened table knife, the spoon her father had carved from horn for her, a wooden bowl, a ceramic drinking vessel, wrapped well in green leaves, a woollen hat her mother had worn, and a second linen smock. She knotted the blanket into a carrying bag, placed it by the door along with her thick sheepskin cape, and hurried to Father David.
    She found him in the church, on his knees in front of the prie-Dieu , his head bowed over his hands. His back was slumped, and it seemed as if his morning devotion would not end soon. Georgette didn’t want to disturb him but if she did not hurry, the others might leave without her.
    ‘Father David,’ she began, feeling shy for the first time with this gentle old man.
    He turned round slowly, his body looking slight and frail in the voluminous black cassock. ‘Georgette?’ he asked. ‘My eyes cannot see thee for the light shining around your head. Is it you, my child, so early in the morn?’
    ‘’Tis I, indeed. No doubt you have heard about the Crusaders who halted overnight outside our village. That is why I did not come to you yesterday. Their leader is a young man, Father David, but a great one. I leave with him today on the Crusade,’ she announced, pride in her voice. ‘I tarry only for your blessing.’
    Unexpectedly, a look of dismay, even horror, swept across his face. She halted uncertainly. Why didn’t he open his arms to her and bless her with pride and pleasure?
    ‘My child,’ he began, but suddenly he closed his eyes, bent his head and prayed intensely but too softly for Georgette to hear. Georgette watched in bewilderment as tears began to roll down his cheeks and his hands fought against each other, left hand wringing against right hand, and right against left.
    At last, he made the sign of the cross, opened his eyes, wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his cassock and stood up with difficulty. Raising his hands, he laid them gently on her head. ‘The Mother Church has ordered support for these Crusades,’ he whispered, ‘so I bless you and commend you, my child. But I beg Jesus to keep you from harm. Harm to your body and harm to your soul. Thy will be done. Amen.’
    Georgette closed her own eyes as he blessed her. She didn’t understand his words. She didn’t understand his tears. But the most important thing, the urgent thing, was to get back to the group. She gave her dear, familiar, sweet priest a tight hug, dashed away her own sudden tears and hurried out of his hut for the last time.
    By the time the priest finally ceased his prayers, Georgette had taken her Pilgrim’s Vow in the village square, smiling happily at her childhood friend Patrice in the group of new recruits. Then she shouldered her bundle and was on her way to Jerusalem.

Chapter Four
    By the second morning of the journey, Georgette felt as if she had been a Crusader for a long time. Her felt shoes were poor