The Scribe(126)
Theresa counted around seventy people who had assembled for the journey. A dozen or so belonged to the papal mission, around twenty looked like men-at-arms, and the rest were cart drivers, servants, and townspeople. As she expected, she was the only woman, but it didn’t concern her. Aside from the men, the delegation was furnished with eight ox-driven wagons and as many lighter carts pulled by mules.
At Izam’s signal, the whips cracked against the beasts, which lowed in pain and then laboriously set off in the direction of the city walls. Alcuin traveled on the first wagon with the papal mission. Theresa sat swaying on the second cart with her attention on Hoos, who navigated the march, while Izam brought up the rear of the convoy along with the main body of soldiers, setting course for Frankfurt.
During the journey, Hoos and Theresa traded news. He told her that in Würzburg folks were dying of hunger, which was why twelve carts were transporting grain, and that in Frankfurt they would gather whatever provisions they could fit on the ship. She spoke to him of Alcuin and how he had solved the case of the poisoned wheat.
“I’ll say it again: Don’t trust him. That monk’s sharp as a needle, but as shady as the Devil.”
“I don’t know… he’s been good to Helga. And he’s given me work.”
“It makes no difference. When this is over and they pay me, you won’t have to work anymore.”
Theresa nodded unenthusiastically and admitted to him that all that mattered to her was finding her father alive. When Hoos pointed out how difficult it would be to fulfill her wish, she refused to listen to him and curled up under a blanket.
The delegation trudged on wearily all morning. Two riders equipped with torches led the way in front, ensuring the carts could negotiate any obstacles in their path. Just ahead, four servants wearing gloves removed the stones that would hinder the progress of the convoy, while the cart drivers, with whip and oath, toiled to keep the oxen away from the sheer drops in the embankments. Alert to any dangers, another pair of well-equipped outriders guarded the rear.
After passing a muddy section where the men had to do as much pulling as the beasts, Izam called a halt. He judged that the road had opened up sufficiently to provide a safe place to make camp, so the men positioned the wagons in a row along the bank of the stream before tethering the horses to the first cart and unloading the fodder for the animals. A servant lit a fire over which he arranged several joints of venison, while Izam assembled the rest of them into organized watches.
Once all the arrangements for their camp were complete, they made themselves comfortable around the fire and drank until the meat was well roasted. Theresa helped the cooks, who celebrated the presence of a woman who was skilled with the pots. A couple of lookouts returned with some rabbits, much to the delight of the papal mission. The less fortunate had to make do with oatmeal porridge and salt pork—but the wine was shared with all, and the men gabbed and laughed as they emptied their tankards.
As Theresa cleared up some bowls, Izam came up behind her. “You’re not drinking wine?” he said, offering her some.
She turned around, startled. “No, thank you. I prefer water,” she said, taking a sip from her cup.
Izam was surprised. While traveling most people chose to drink watered-down wine, or failing that, beer, for both were less likely to cause illness than contaminated water.
He insisted. “This stream can’t be trusted. Its bed is not stony, and it flows from west to east. Plus, we passed a settlement of tenant farmers a couple of miles back—no doubt all their waste is flowing downstream.”
Upon hearing that, Theresa spat the water out and accepted Izam’s cup. The wine was strong and hot.
“I tried to say hello to you earlier, but you were busy.”
She responded with a forced smile. She saw Hoos eating venison and was worried he might see them.
“Is he your betrothed?” he asked.
“Not yet.” She blushed, without quite knowing why.
“It’s a shame I’m engaged,” he lied.
For some reason she didn’t like his comment, but they spoke for a while about the difficulties of the journey.
Finally, she gave in to her curiosity. “You know what? I don’t believe you really are engaged,” she said, smiling, and instantly she regretted her boldness.
Izam burst into laughter.
At that moment Alcuin arrived to congratulate them. “For your cooking, Theresa, and you, Izam, for your skill guiding the delegation,” he said.
Izam thanked him and left to attend to a couple of soldiers who were demanding his presence. Theresa took the opportunity to interrogate Alcuin about Izam of Padua.
“I really don’t know whether he has a maiden,” the monk answered, surprised he was being asked such a question.
They arrived in Frankfurt early the next day. Hoos and Izam used the morning to scour the port in search of the most appropriate ships. At the wharf they found solid Frankish sailing boats, Danish ships with spacious holds, and broad-bellied Frisian vessels. Izam was keen on strong and capacious hulls, while Hoos preferred light craft.
“If we come across ice, we might have to tug them,” Hoos remarked.
They finally decided on two heavy boats, well furnished with oars, and a light ship that could be dragged up the river if necessary.
At midday they began loading the vessels. They all ate together in a nearby warehouse, and a couple of hours later, the three boats were cleaving through the Main River crammed with animals, soldiers, and priests.