Jerusalem, 1099

Blood: the ground was covered in it. My tunic, embellished with a red cross, was splattered as well. In my hand, a sword hung, looking as if it had just been dipped in red paint.

I moved forward with my regiment, killing anyone we encountered. Behind us I could hear the screams of men, women, and children alike. The houses in the holy city were going up in flames, while its inhabitants were going down in pools of blood.

Some of my fellow Christian Crusaders could be heard laughing as they plundered the mosques and synagogues, carrying out jewel-
inlayed paintings and golden menorahs. But my regiment’s leader had another plan.

He led us through the city to a massive building, which we soon were to recognize as a Jewish synagogue. I could hear their prayers rise in an anguished tone, as they recognized us as well.

With a glint in his crazed eyes, our leader ordered us to bar all the doors. We did so. He turned to us, his whole face filled with blood lust, and declared that we were to burn the synagogue, and the Jews.

Most of the soldiers, filled with their own lusts and emboldened by their leader’s, readily collected wood to burn alive all of those who had participated in the killing of Christ. But others, like I, were timid. Killing armed men was one thing, but burning a temple of helpless families was another.

Rooted to my spot in an alleyway near the synagogue, I watched as the Jews banged on the windows and doors, seeking for a way out of their newfound hell. The fire quickly caught the dry wood in its clutches and masticated it. Expanding, it searched for more and found the synagogue.

Flames leapt at the building, licking it and leaving blackened chars. Prayers were screamed from the frantic Jews’ mouths as the fire broke through the roof, weakening the timbers. I gaped at the destruction, and began to think; ‘this was not what God led us here to do.’

-Robert de Lac