The Tower of Jerusalem
“Deus Vult! Deus Vult! Deus Vult!” The rallying cry of the army goes up as the sergeants drag the tower forward. That sacred cry is Latin for “God Wills it”. It was first spoken by his Holiness, Pope Urban II, and has reverberated off the lips of Christ’s soldiers since the first preaching of the grand pilgrimage. I have heard that cry throughout my pilgrimage to the Holy Land. It is what the bishop told me before I left my fief, family and land and embarked. I had heard it many times throughout the march.
That cry has effects that truly illustrate God’s love for this pilgrimage to secure our Eastern Christian Brethren and to establish a Latin state based upon Jerusalem. I have seen faltering men rally by its cry at the siege of Antioch. Inspired by those words, I have seen the armies of Christendom fight with a fury that I pray would only be seen in the service of Holy God and his Church.
As the tower draws forward, the defenders of the walls pelt us with projectiles. Arrows, Javelins, rocks, even axes are thrown, in a desperate attempt to repulse us and deny us our goal. My shield has many deadly shafts imbedded in its wood. As an arrow strikes me in the torso but is repulsed by my Hauberk, I say a silent prayer that God’s grace endures. An unfortunate knight to my right is slain by a javelin under the brim of his helm, straight into the poor man’s eye. A large number of the lesser soldiery, principally those unarmoured, are struck down and killed by the torrent of deadly missiles.
The tower is at the walls now. The gate has crashed forward and I, and a number of knights rush onto the wall. We do battle upon the walls of the Holy City, our Christ-beloved swords flashing in the hot Levant sun. After we slay or rout the immediate defenders, we pause for the rallying cry before retaking the Holy City. “Deus Vult!”
