He did the only right thing in this awkward situation. He called in Bernard de Clairvaux under the holy banners.

   Bernard de Clairvaux was at this time the most influential man within the spiritual world, and probably the best speaker in the secular world. When it became known that Bernard was going to speak in the cathedral in Vézelay in March 1146, such huge crowds came that it was obvious that the cathedral would not be able to hold them all. Instead a wooden platform was constructed outside the town. Bernard had not been speaking long before the ten thousand or more gathered there began shouting for crosses.

   A great number of cloth crosses had been readied, and Bernard now began to pass them out, first to the king and his vassals— not even the reluctant counts and barons would have been able to resist the wave of enthusiasm and conviction that now swept forward—and then to all the others. Finally Bernard began tearing strips from his own clothes to give new recruits a cross of cloth to wear as a sign that they had now sworn themselves to the Holy War; it also indicated that after a brief campaign they would obtain eternal forgiveness for all their sins.

   Not without some pride Bernard was able to write to the Pope about his efforts:

You gave the order. I obeyed. And the Power that gave the order made my obedience bear fruit. I opened my mouth. I spoke and instantly the number of Crusaders had multiplied beyond counting. Entire villages and towns are now deserted. There is hardly one man for every seven women, and everywhere one sees widows whose husbands are still alive.

   The Christian revival in Europe now spread with the same force as Nur ed-Din's revival spread around Aleppo. Bernard de Clairvaux had to venture out on long journeys and day after day repeat what he had said, first to Burgundy, then to Lorraine and Flanders.

   But since the revival had spread to Germany the usual problems arose, the same as those during the First Crusade. The Archbishop of Cologne had to hurriedly summon Bernard because a Cistercian monk by the name of Peter the Venerable was going around Germany with a message that was Bernard's when it reached the Holy Land but a quite different one when it reached the Jews of Europe.

   As a result of his preaching, pogroms broke out in Cologne, Mainz, Worms, Spies, and Strassburg. The Jews were murdered, in some places down to the very last one.

   On his arrival Bernard quickly imposed a penance on Peter the Venerable to take a vow of silence for a year, to repent, and at once to return to his cloister in Cluny and never again get involved in something he didn't understand.

   After that Bernard had to replicate his whole French tour in Germany, where, despite the fact that he had to work through an interpreter, he won the same reception for the Holy War. But now he also had to make a monumental effort to put a stop to the persecution of the Jews, repeating over and over that "whosoever attacks a Jew to take his life, it will be as though he had struck Jesus Christ Himself."

   With that, the focus of the aroused masses could once again be directed toward what was important, and the Second Crusade became a reality. The German king Konrad made a pact with King Louis VII, and soon an army of countless soldiers plundered its way through Europe on its way to the Holy War. By the time they arrived in Christian Constantinople the French and German armies had created great internal discord, mostly due to quarrels about who had the first right to plunder and who would plunder second. From Constantinople they decided to take different routes toward Jerusalem. Konrad would proceed through the interior of Asia Minor while Louis would take the coastal route, and they would meet up in Antioch. King Konrad of Germany, who had chosen the interior but more dangerous road through Asia Minor in the belief that there would be more to plunder than along the safer coast road, became brutally familiar with what could happen when a heavily armored European army of knights faced the superior light Oriental cavalry. He was attacked by Turkish forces at Dorylaeum and lost ninetenths of his army.

   When the two European armies met at Antioch, the French considerably less decimated than the German, they were received in princely style by the local ruler, Count Raymond. King Baldwin of Jerusalem also joined them, and it was then time for feasting, of course, but later for careful planning.

   The newly arrived warriors in God's army probably had no idea who Zinki was, much less that he was dead, and that now they would face a considerably more dangerous enemy in his son, Nur ed-Din.

   The local Frankish Christians naturally had a clearer sense of the situation. Either they should now go straight to Odessa and retake the city, since it was the fall of Odessa that had triggered the whole crusade, and such a victory would be of great psychological importance, for both sides.

   Or else they should head for Aleppo and the main enemy Nur ed-Din, joining the battle that must come sooner or later, and preferably now when they were at their strongest.

   But King Louis and King Konrad, who no doubt understood little about conditions in the part of the world where they now found themselves, decided to strike at Damascus instead. If they could conquer the second most important city after Jerusalem then, they agreed, they would be starting the crusade with a great victory that would resound throughout the world. In addition, although they might or might not have said as much out loud, Damascus would be a most magnificent prize to plunder. If nothing else, they would rapidly recoup all their expenses.

   The local Franks tried in vain to explain what a mistake it would be to attack Damascus, but they were voted down by the two kings, who were in agreement and also possessed the two largest armies.

   So the entire Christian host marched on Damascus, which was sheer madness in more than one sense.

   Damascus was not only the most important Muslim city in the region, it was also the only Muslim city that was allied with Jerusalem. If that pact was now broken, it would prove that a Christian's word was not to be trusted. This was something that especially worried the Knights Templar, who did indeed make up the backbone of all Western cavalry.

   Worst of all was the fact that they were playing right into Nur ed-Din's hands—soon the carrier pigeons began flying in every direction, and all of Nur ed-Din's brothers and other allies set off with large armies from the north, from the south, and from the east.

   After laying siege to Damascus for only four days, the Christians were surrounded by an army many times larger. They had also chosen to make camp in the least favorable place, on the south side of the city where there was no protection, and where the Damascenes had filled in all the wells in good time. The commander of the Knights Templar could see that this tactical positioning was so obviously idiotic that the only possible explanation was bribery—either King Louis or King Konrad must have been paid to lose.