A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

The summons for the Three Level Council was even more effective than Eric had imagined. On the very first day it was issued, the cities and villages around Rouen erupted in a flurry of activity, and a massive crowd of people flooded into the city.

Not since the old Duke was crowned King of England some ten years ago had Rouen received so many commoners.

Many of them weren’t elected representatives, but they felt that by coming along, they might have a say in something. This notion spread like wildfire among the commoners of Normandy, particularly the city-dwellers, and the situation began to subtly spiral out of control.

The local citizens of Rouen were initially quite pleased, seeing a chance to make a tidy sum of money. Their joy was short-lived. By only the second day, commoners who couldn’t afford lodging or food but refused to leave had begun to loot their goods.

Some of the wealthier merchants and guild masters seized the opportunity to display their benevolence and generosity. Even though most of these people couldn’t get into the council, their cheers from outside would be a valuable bargaining chip.

Combined with the grain Robert reluctantly distributed, the commoners’ minor ”uprising” had miraculously subsided by the fourth day.

The nobility didn’t need to be elected; any noble who wished to could attend. They arrived much more slowly than the commoners, believing that restraint distinguished them from the rabble. As always, they stood by with their Guard Knights, berating and striking at the ”thugs.”

Their actions to maintain order won the cheers of some citizens, but also earned the scorn of others.

The situation among the clergy was far more complex. Many Abbots and Bishops found they were losing control over the Priests under their authority. Some Parishes began to elect low-ranking Priests or Priest Deacons as their representatives, rather than their superiors—the Bishops and Abbots.

「Inside Rouen Castle」

Eric was currently with Robert, discussing the specific details and organizational structure of the Third Estate Meeting.

A stocky, middle-aged man strode in, looking furious. It was Robert’s uncle, Odo De Conteville, the Earl of Kent and Bishop of Bayeux. He stormed over, bringing a strange odor with him.

He had arrived in Rouen the day after Eric and vehemently opposed Eric’s proposal to summon citizens to the council. He would never allow the cities of Normandy to slip from his control, especially since he had just barely managed to suppress a rebellion in one of his own cities only six months prior.

As such, he held a particular dislike for Eric, the man who had proposed the plan.

”Damn it, Rouen, the greatest city of the Franks, has become as filthy as Rome City! A bunch of lawless scum are running rampant in the streets—robbing, brawling, fighting! Damn it all, there’s shit and filth everywhere! Is this the Last Judgment?

”Anyone who didn’t know better would think Nero himself had set Rouen ablaze,” Odo roared indignantly.

”My dear uncle, you seem to have a... peculiar odor about you,” Robert remarked.

”Oh, the bastards! Those scum threw horse manure at me! Damn it, I’ll chop every last one of them into pieces and feed them to my warhorses!”

Odo touched his hair, then sniffed whatever had gotten on his hand.

He immediately began to retch.

His pudgy face twisted in disgust.

”Short Socks, you’re just going to let this happen? Look at what’s become of this place! You’re letting commoners humiliate the nobility, and for what? To let some naive, childish, low-ranking Priest run wild?” Odo glared at Eric, his target obvious.

Eric watched Odo with a relaxed expression, showing no sign of anger.

”Uncle, I’ve told you. When we are conducting business, you are to call me by my title or my name. Not that nickname. I hate it.”

”Fine. Short Socks, that lot from the Church are good for nothing but wordplay and casually blaspheming the Bible. Every honeyed word has an ulterior motive. They’ll do anything for a promotion. They know nothing of a nobleman’s honor.

”He’s just like that Lanfrank, fawning all over your old man, just waiting for a few scraps from the table. Pathetic. Who would even know he’s a servant of God?” Odo glanced at Eric, then spat on the floor.

It landed squarely on Robert’s shoe.

”But Uncle, you’re a Bishop,” Robert said, frowning as he scraped the disgusting glob of phlegm off his left shoe with his right.

”Not me. I am a Count first,” Odo said, his tone faltering with a hint of embarrassment.

”In that case, I imagine Count Odo must have a better way to raise funds.”

Eric spoke up, watching him with a faint smile.

A few days prior, Eric had calculated the recruitment and maintenance costs for the mercenaries. A three-month campaign would cost ten thousand pounds, yet the total annual income from the Royal Family’s demesne in England was barely nine thousand pounds.

Even a magnate like Count Odo, one of the most powerful men in England, had an annual income that barely exceeded one thousand pounds.

At best, Normandy could currently provide Robert with three thousand five hundred pounds.

To defeat Conqueror William, however, they would need to maintain the mercenaries for at least six months to have a decent chance. Therefore, the expedition would cost at least twenty thousand pounds.

”Let the commoners suffer a little more; I will bear the infamy. My dear nephew—no, my Duke, the future King of England! I will offer you all my loyalty and honor, even if I must be reviled for it, so long as it paves your way to the throne.”

With that, Count Odo knelt on one knee before Robert.

”I think it would be easier to have Count Odo travel to London and assassinate King William,” Eric chimed in at just the right moment, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

”Insolent! You...”

Odo’s mind went blank with rage. No one had ever dared to speak to him like that.

Just as he was about to draw his sword, a young man dressed as an Attendant rushed in from outside the hall and bowed to Odo and Robert.

”Duke! Lord Earl! There’s trouble! A fight has broken out outside!”

”What? Explain yourself!”

Odo grabbed the young man by the collar.

”The townspeople and the nobility suddenly started arguing, and then somehow a fight broke out. Lord Earl, your horse... some of the citizens stabbed it to death!”

”Fucking peasants! They dare kill my horse!” Odo’s eyes bulged, his face contorted in a ferocious snarl, and he stormed out.

Robert turned to Eric.

”Eric, you shouldn’t have spoken to Odo like that. If he...”

”Robert, if you want to control a powerful noble, the best way isn’t to submit to him or to suppress him. It’s to create an opposition. Don’t worry, I’m not the only one who can’t stand Odo. I can simply be the first.”

”My uncle Odo is not a kind man. To call him cruel would be an understatement.”

”Relax. He won’t make a move on me before we’ve taken England. The motive would be far too obvious. He has no reason to earn your ire.”

”Fine. May God protect you. Just don’t come crying to me to save you when the time comes.”

Robert shook his head and patted Eric on the shoulder.

Robert then made to leave the hall and see what was happening outside, but Eric stopped him.

”What is it now, Eric?”

”Let’s wait a bit longer. Let them raise a ruckus. These people won’t compromise easily otherwise; they need to vent. The more chaos they cause, the greater our leverage,” Eric said with a soft chuckle.