In the distance, a giant trebuchet shattered a wooden tower at its waist with a piercing roar.
The ballista mounted atop it collapsed, crushing several Saracen crossbowmen who had failed to dodge into bloody pulp.
Ramla, the Jewish soldier, trembled like a quail as he cowered behind the battlements.
Gravel rained down upon his crude iron helmet, but he barely felt any pain. His body shook uncontrollably as he loudly recited prayers, as though blades could not harm him so long as he held God in his heart.
"The Lord shall be king over all the earth. On that day, the Lord shall be one, and His name one."
Chanting in unison as they pushed siege towers and ladders, the Crusaders slowly approached the walls.
A Saracen officer shoved Ramla and spoke in words Ramla only half understood. "Get up! Take the poles and push those ladders away!"
"If you want to live, get up and fight! The more you fear death, the sooner you'll die!"
"The Franks will never forgive rebels like you who have betrayed the god you once believed in!"
Ramla and the other Jewish soldiers were like headless flies, driven by the Saracen officer to try to push away the Crusaders' siege engines.
But the Crusaders' siege engines were all fitted with iron hooks. Once they latched onto the walls, they could not be cut apart quickly even with heavy axes, much less pried away with poles.
The huge stones they hurled down were often simply deflected by the shields atop the battering rams.
As the giant siege tower before them drew close to the walls, the gate at its upper exit slammed down onto the battlements like a drawbridge.
A Templar Knight in an enormous helmet and a white surcoat emblazoned with a red cross