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While walking about, however, he caught sight of three figures standing quite still at the farthest reach of firelight. Each was wearing a hood over his head, and the figure in the center stood the height of a man; the other two were much smaller. The priest watched for several moments until the trio shuffled to the margins of another campfire, then another. He narrowed his gaze and moved beyond the reach of any light to draw closer.
    The three skulked suspiciously near Wil’s litter and toward Frieda sitting nearby. Pieter followed, but the cheery voice of Ava distracted the priest for a costly moment. She had screamed loudly as some boys tickled her. Pieter turned his face back to the place where the three had been standing, only to find them gone.
    The priest hurried forward and arrived at Frieda’s side. “Did you see them?”
    “Who?”
    “Three shadows under hood.”
    Frieda looked about. “No.”
    Pieter made a hasty circle of the whole field, driving his staff hard into the stony soil. “They must be here!” he grumbled. But, alas, they were not to be found. The old man sought Paul and upon finding him, drew him aside. “Listen, lad. Methinks spies have been about the camp. Have y’seen three figures under hood?”
    Paul looked about carefully. “ Ja. One of m’lads said he thought he saw three moving in the shadows like they didn’t belong. He followed them, but they disappeared.”
    Pieter took a deep breath. “ Ja, ‘tis spies. I can feel it. Now listen to me. Your plan for tomorrow night must be changed. They’ll surely report what they’ve heard to the city guard, and there will surely be an ambush.”
    Paul’s face tightened. “No, Father. We’ve delayed long enough. Tomorrow we beg, tomorrow night we steal. Besides, we kept our talk in whispers.”
    Pieter yielded. “Then, at prime I’ll lead my column into the city along with yours. I will try to meet with the podesta or his magistrate. If I get the ear of one of them, we might be given provisions enough. If I’m refused, I’ll preach in the squares until the stones cry out for mercy.”
    “You seem uncertain,” said Paul.
    Pieter nodded. “Tis true, I am. This city has a chill about it; it lacks the joy of goodwill. Wealth has turned the people inward. But I should not be surprised; greed is oft found in proportion to gain. My hope, however, is in this other sad truth: that oft the promises of a priest will do more to prompt alms than a hungry child’s face.”

     
    At first light, the camp assembled for a final day’s begging. Pieter rose and scanned the milling throng with Heinrich standing near. “There, Ava, and there, my own Heinz and those over there and these.” He pointed to this one and called to another and soon gathered a score of bony urchins around him. He laid his hands on Ava and Heinz with a chuckle. “Who could deny either of you?”
    Indeed, only the hardest of hearts could resist their delightful charms. Ava, a tiny, feisty girl of seven captured all with the twinkle in her devilish green eyes. She with the elfish Heinz would make a memorable pair, particularly when joined with their snaggletoothed, spindly companion! The old priest called for Solomon and laid hold of his staff as he turned to Heinrich. “Pity for these, charity for me … ‘tis my hope for Genoa! I do pray, baker, that we return with a whole caravan of Christian kindness in tow! Now, children, follow me!”
    Heinrich watched with some amusement as Pieter’s company hurried through the field and to the roadway beyond. Pieter’s rolling gait reminded him of a lame ox he had once plowed behind, and he laughed out loud. A breeze toyed with the old man’s wispy white hair and bent his beard sideways. The baker smiled and remembered stories of Moses. Perhaps the old Hebrew had returned to the earth!
    The baker returned to his son’s side, where he sat by Frieda for nearly an hour. Wil awakened from time to time, took sips of water drawn from