Veille du P?re,a village in southern France ,1096

The church bells were ringing.

Loud, quickening peals-echoing through town in the middle of the day.

Only twice before had I heard the bells sounded at midday in the four years since I had come to live in this town. Once, when word reached us that the King's son had died. And the second, when a raiding party from our lord's rival in Digne swept through town during the wars, leaving eight dead and burning almost every house to the ground.

What was going on?

I rushed to the second-floor window of the inn I looked after with my wife, Sophie. People were running into the square, still carrying their tools.What's going on? Who needs help ? they shouted.

Then Antoine, who farmed a plot by the river, galloped over the bridge aboard his mule, pointing back toward the road. They're coming! They're almost here!

From the east, I heard the loudest chorus of voices, seemingly raised as one. I squinted through the trees and felt my jaw drop. Jesus,I'm dreaming , I said to myself. A peddler with a cart was considered an event here. I blinked at the sight, not once but twice.

It was the greatest multitude I had ever seen! Jammed along the narrow road into town, stretching out as far as the eye could see.

Sophie, come quick,now , I yelled. You're not going to believe this.

My wife of three years hurried to the window, her yellow hair pinned up for the workday under a white cap. Mother of God, Hugh...

It's an army, I muttered, barely able to believe my eyes. The Army of the Crusade.