April 16th, 1521. Finally, nine days after leaving Airfield, a small two-wheeled

box cart rounds a bend and visible just ahead is the city of Verbs. Armstorf elbows his

drowsy friend in the ribs and Luther sits all-top right together they watch the

city moving slowly into view. The Roman fortifications, the twin circular

towers of St. Peter's Cathedral, the Rhine River glittering in the morning sun.

Verbs is an imperial free city unfettered by the interference of local rulers and

accountable only to the Holy Roman Emperor himself.

Sturm, the imperial heralds just ahead of them signals to them both.

A troop of Saxon knights are sent out by Luther's protector Frederick the wise

to escort them into the city far more men at arms than greeted them at Airfield.

They enter the city gates at 10 a.m. This is unlike anything they've seen on

their 14-day journey from Vittenburg. Thousands of people line the streets.

Some are selling Luther's books, some run alongside the wagon, some wave wood cuts of

Luther others reach out to try and touch them. Feeling self-conscious, Luther raises an

awkward hand in acknowledgement. God bless you. God bless you.

But then, a different sound begins to emerge from the crowd, echoing back and forth

between your stone and houses.

Some in the crowd are chanting Bunchu, the name of the wooden clock worn by the farmers.

Over time, the word has taken on a more ominous meaning. It had become a rallying

cry of the German peasantry, a cry of revolt.

Luther grips the edge of the cart, he wishes they would stop. The emperor and the cardinals

will be watching and listening. The stomach churns as the cathedral rises high above him.

...