THERE WERE FOOLS among us who believed that Antioch would fall in a day. On that first morning we lined up, many thousand strong. A sea of white tunics and red crosses.

Heaven's army, if I truly believed.

We focused on the eastern wall, a buttress of gray rock thirty feet tall, spilling over with defenders in white robes and bright blue turbans at every post. And higher up, the towers,hundreds of them , were each manned with archers, their long, curved bows glinting in the morning sun.

My heart pounded under my tunic. At any moment, I knew, I would have to charge, but my legs seemed rooted to the ground. I muttered Sophie's name as if in prayer.

Young Robert, looking fit, was next to me in line. Are you ready, Hugh? he asked with an eager smile.

When we charge, stay by me, I instructed him. I was twice the boy's size. For whatever the reason, I had sworn in my heart to protect him.

Don't worry, God will watch over me. Robert seemed assured. And you too, Hugh, even if you try and deny it.

A trumpet sounded the call to arms. Raymond and Bohemond, in full armor, galloped down the line on their crested mounts.Be brave ,soldiers. Do your duty , they urged.Fight with honor. God will be at your side.

Then all at once a chilling roar rose up from behind the city walls. The Turks, taunting and mocking us. I fixed on a face above the main gate. Then the trumpet sounded again. We were at a run.

I know not exactly what went through my mind as, in formation, we advanced toward the massive walls. I made one last prayer to Sophie. And to God, for Robert's sake, to watch over us.

But I know I ran, swept up in the tide of the charge. From behind, I heard thewhoosh from a wave of arrows shooting across the sky, but they fell against the massive walls like harmless sticks, clattering to the ground.

A hundred yards... A volley of arrows shot back from the towers in return. I held my shield as they ripped into us, thudding and clanging into shields and armor all around. Men fell, clutching at their heads and throats. Blood spurted from their faces, and gruesome gasps escaped from their wretched mouths. The rest of us surged ahead, Robert still at my side. In front of us, I saw the first ram approach the main gate. Our division captain ordered us to follow. From above, heavy rocks and fiery arrows rained down on us. Men screamed and toppled over, either pierced or rolling on the ground trying to smother the flames on their bodies.

The first ram pounded into the heavy gate, a solid wooden barrier the height of three men. It bounced off with the effect of a pebble tossed against a wall. The team reversed and rammed again. Foot soldiers were hurling their lances up at the defenders, but they fell halfway up the walls and in return brought volleys of spears and Greek fire, molten pitch. Men writhed on the ground, kicking and screaming, their white tunics ablaze. Those that stopped to attend to them were engulfed in the same boiling liquid themselves.

It was a slaughter. Men who had traveled so far, endured so much-God's call resounding in their hearts-were cut down like grain in a field. I saw poor Mouse, an arrow piercing his throat so completely his hands gripped it on both sides, drop to his knees. Others fell over him. I felt sure I would soon die too. One of the ram carriers went down. Robert took his place. Soon they were battering again at the gate, but without result.

Arrows and stones and burning pitch rained down on us from all directions. It was only luck to avoid death at any point. I scanned the walls, searching for archers or pitch, and to my horror spotted two large............