A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

The young man in the green robe personally led the way for Eric and his party.

They passed through the city gate and began a winding, half-mile journey.

Shopfronts were shuttered, and the open windows of the tall buildings stared down at them like the empty eye sockets of the dead. People huddled together, silent, wordlessly stepping aside.

The peddlers along the road mechanically muttered ”watch your step” to passersby, as if talking to themselves.

Rats scurried through the gutters and sometimes across the rooftops. Aside from that, all was quiet. The sound of a distant dog barking was like music.

A cart laden with fish shot out from a side street. Startled by the sight of Eric’s column, the driver frantically yanked on his old horse’s reins. The sudden jerk made the horse let out a pained whinny, nearly overturning the entire cart.

However, as they drew closer, the surroundings grew noisy.

The Laponti market was one of the few places in Mann where crowds still gathered, but it had clearly been affected. Many spots where stalls once stood were now empty. The remaining booths stood far apart from one another, like the last few teeth in an old man’s gums.

Nevertheless, the market still presented a rich, if fragmented, spectacle.

Fishmongers laid out carp, sturgeon, and black bass on wet straw. The sellers reeked of river water, their aprons stained brown with blood and shimmering with scales.

Siskins danced and chirped in their cages. An acrobat walked backward, eyes painted on his buttocks and oversized gloves on his feet. A Spaniard blew a horn, berating two small dogs that had grown tired of spinning on their hind legs.

People haggled and shouted as they always had, only now they stood much farther apart. The vendors cried out their wares in a sing-song chant:

”Salt from Brittany and Franche-Comté,

If you walk away, who will save your meat?

Indigo, indigo, precious blue!

Like the peacock’s breast and its proud tail.

Who will buy my musk?

Rabbit, fox, and then pigeon...”

Of course, the streets were not lacking in foreigners. A German in broken French advertised his pile of ironware. Besides the iron, he also had beer, and from time to time he would splash a little out for passersby to catch the scent.

A Spaniard selling leather shoes sang a song of unknown meaning. The leather was so fine it was almost translucent.

A Bohemian rhythmically tapped on lead bars, singing an odd song that seemed more for his own amusement than to attract customers.

The Flemish had the largest and most beautiful stall. They lived in the city, having made their fortunes selling woolen cloth from Flanders. The bolts of fabric were so vibrant they could catch the eye from thirty paces away.

The Flemish were adept at displaying their goods. As people approached, they would use two sticks to unfurl and ripple their finest cloths, catching the light and the eye.

Some of the merchants wore plague masks, making them look like terrifying birds.

Many stalls had a small table set up in front, even those whose small trades had no use for one.

The small tables held nothing but a single bowl of water. Customers would place their coins in the water, believing it would cleanse them.

Eric noticed the young man in green seemed to have no intention of leading them to the castle, as he could see it lay in the opposite direction.

”The castle seems to be in the other direction.”

”Yes, my lord. Your eyes are sharp. The Count and His Highness the Prince are not in the castle at present. They are presiding over the tournament in the square to the east of Laponti.”

”To liven up the atmosphere, His Highness the Prince is personally competing in the jousts. The tournament has already been running for several days, and the upcoming ceremony of fealty is meant to be its grand climax.”

”Lady Helia’s arrival is most timely. I believe the Count, His Highness the Prince, and all the noble competitors would be delighted to have the beautiful Lady Helia serve as this tournament’s ’Queen of Beauty and Love’,” the young man in green said with a smile.

Each day’s victor, in addition to his prize, earned a special honor: the right to crown the lady he most admired. That lady, the ’Queen of Beauty and Love,’ then presented the victor with his prize and presided over the next day’s festivities.

”’Queen of Beauty and Love?’” Eric chuckled.

”Yes. It is an auspicious day for the Count, and everyone wishes to please him. Besides, who in all of Northern France doesn’t know the name of Giscard? The name Outville has resounded throughout Normandy, and indeed all of the Frankish lands, for over a decade.”

”Though I serve the Count now, I must say, I have a quarter Norman blood myself. My maternal grandmother was a Norman,” the young man in green said, puffing out his chest with an air of importance.

”’Is that so? Then I imagine the Duke would be very pleased to hear such praise from a countryman.’”

”The tournament began several days ago, but one can still register to compete. The Count has decreed that any man who brings his own armor may participate. I am certain the Count and Prince William would be delighted to witness the prowess of a Norman Knight seasoned by the wars in Italy.”

Eric continued to make small talk with the young man in green.

The young man in green was not alone; a dozen or so knights escorted the carriages.

Eric was planning to deal with their escort upon reaching the tournament square, but just then, a knight from the rear of the column galloped forward. He pulled up alongside the young man in green and whispered something in his ear.

The young man’s expression shifted, and he reined in his horse.

”My sincere apologies, my lords of the Outville family. A situation has arisen at the city gate, and I must go deal with it.”

”’What is it?’” Eric asked, feigning concern.

”Ah... this shouldn’t be happening. I suppose the recent stir in Laponti City has been too great.”

”’What do you mean?’”

”A crowd of vagrants has appeared from nowhere and is blocking the city gate, demanding entry. They’re claiming Prince William and the Count intend to distribute alms within the city. Utterly absurd.”

”’Isn’t that a good thing? It coincides with the Count’s ceremony of fealty. This would be an excellent way to earn the goodwill of the Mann People.’”

”’It’s just a pretext! They’re a pack of brigands—no, worse than brigands. They’re using this as an excuse to sack Laponti. I’ve seen it many times these past few years. They attack cities, wealthy villages, and lone Knights. They burn, kill, and plunder without a shred of humanity,’” the young man in green cursed, his voice filled with anger.

”’Very well. I hope you can resolve the matter. I believe we can find the tournament grounds on our own.’”

”’My apologies. Perhaps I can leave one of my attendants with you...’”

”’Don’t bother. You’ll need all the men you can get to handle those vagrants. We can find the grounds. I have met Prince William before, though he likely wouldn’t recognize me,’” Eric said with a shrug.

”’Very well. Thank you for your understanding.’” The young man bowed to Eric again.

He turned his mount and rode to the side of the carriage.

”’Lady Helia, this is unexpected. Please forgive the interruption. My name is Ashar De Monmelle, steward and Knight Commander to the Count. I will personally apologize to you before the Count tomorrow.’”

”’Understood. So many words. Just go already.’ (Lombard)”

Helia slid open the carriage window, and her face came into Ashar’s view.

Helia rested her chin on her hand and waved at Ashar.

Ashar suddenly seemed flustered. He stared for a long moment before finally turning his gaze to Eric.

”’What did Her Ladyship say?’”

”’The lady says she is very pleased the Count has such an excellent knight in his service. She hopes to have the opportunity to avail herself of your services in the future,’” Eric said with a slight smile.

”’It is my duty. My loyalty to the Count extends to our lady mistress as well.’ Ashar seemed flustered with excitement, his speech quickening.”

He then hastily summoned his knights, and with a flick of his reins, galloped toward the city gate in a flustered hurry.

”’How boring. Is my part in this over?’” Helia asked Eric from inside the carriage.

”’Almost. But you’ll have to wait a little longer. The main event hasn’t started yet,’” Eric chuckled.

”’There are too many vagrants. We won’t be able to get out later,’ Helia said with a frown.”

”’Don’t worry, there aren’t that many. We just need them to draw away most of the city’s knights.’ Eric looked at the knight beside him, a man named Guy, one of the surviving members of his Warband. ’Guy, take fifty Knights and twenty Archers to the east gate. Find a way to control it and let some of the vagrants in. The rest of you are with me.’”

”’What about us?’” Eleanor’s voice came from the carriage. She disliked being with Helia, even though Helia had been much calmer today.

”’Since they aren’t in the castle, there’s no need for you to make an appearance. You can explore Laponti, but it would be best to stay far away from the tournament. Also, get out of the carriage. You should all be on horseback, and change your clothes,’ Eric said to Eleanor.”

”’I don’t like this,’” Eleanor muttered.

Because she didn’t know how to ride a horse.

”’I don’t like it either, but things rarely go according to plan. Helia will look after you.’”

At Eric’s last words, Eleanor shut her eyes, her head spinning.

With that, Eric changed direction, signaled to the knights beside him, and spurred his horse toward the tournament grounds.

”’Hey, wait...’”

Eric was too fast. Before Eleanor could even react, he had vanished from sight.

Now, only Eleanor and Helia were left.

And she was left with knights she didn’t know and the impossible Helia.

Helia seized the opportunity to wrap an arm around Eleanor’s waist, sniffing the scent of roses on her. ”’Don’t worry, my lady. You can ask anything of me. I promised my brother I’d take good care of you.’”

Helia put on a roguish air, trying to tease Eleanor. ”’My lady,’ she said with mock gravity, ’you smell divine.’”

Tears welled up in Eleanor’s eyes.

.....

Despite the many disasters that had befallen Mann this year, poor and rich, commoner and noble alike were buzzing with excitement for the tournament. In this era, it was a spectacle for all eyes.

Entertainment was scarce in the Middle Ages, and even the wealthy townsfolk, who had more leisure time, loved such noble pastimes.

Neither work nor sickness could stop men and women, old and young, from flocking to witness the spectacle.

The ground sloped gently down from all sides to a level field enclosed by a sturdy wooden fence, forming a tourney ground a quarter-mile long and about half as wide. It was rectangular in shape, though its corners were rounded to give the spectators a better view.

Entrances for the combatants were set at the north and south ends of the field, each fitted with a sturdy wooden gate wide enough for two knights to enter abreast.

Two heralds, leading six trumpeters and six attendants, were stationed at each gate. A squad of fully armored soldiers was also present to maintain order and verify the identity of the knights entering the lists.

Outside the southern entrance was a natural rise in the ground. This platform held five luxurious pavilions, before which fluttered the brown and black pennants of the knights who had taken up the role of challengers.

This was also the place for registration.

Eric inquired and learned that William Rufus himself would be participating in today’s mêlée.