A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

”What do you see? A bunch of timid, cowardly Saxons.”

”I told you I could smell it from a mile away. Why does this place reek of the wretched fish stench of Britain Island?”

”It’s so rare to finally get far away from that damned island. For a second, I thought I was back there.”

”...”

Even though they were clad in Byzantine armor, completely different from that of Western Europe, the Norman Knights recognized the men at first glance. Most of them were Saxons from Britain Island.

A few Norman Knights started whistling provocatively, chattering and shouting amongst themselves in French. They jeered at these ’vanquished foes’ just as they had once done at Hastings.

However, despite the Normans’ taunts echoing through the palace, they failed to provoke a reaction. The Saxons, clad in Byzantine armor and armed with long-handled axes and shields, remained by the Emperor’s throne as still as statues from Ancient Greece.

The Norman Knights soon grew bored, and their voices gradually faded.

Suddenly, a sound like a gust of wind arose, and a moment later, the most exquisite music filled the air. It sounded like flutes and pipes, like every kind of wind in nature, and even like thunder—yes, as if it were everything that sings under heaven.

The Normans were captivated by the melodious sound. They had never heard such beautiful music.

The two Frank priests couldn’t help but search for the source of the sound, thinking it must be the majestic voice of the Celestial Realm made audible to mortal ears.

It seemed to emanate from a large golden chest behind the throne, slightly to one side.

Eric had little interest in learning more about the source of the beautiful music. His eyes were fixed only on the throne and the man seated upon it.

For the man occupying one side of the wide throne, openly gazing at them, flanked by his courtiers and the Varangian Guard, was none other than Alexios, Emperor of Romania. He was dressed in a robe of the deepest purple that shimmered in the light.

The magnificence of the room, combined with the surrounding luxury, made the strangely attired Normans seem out of place. Some of the Norman Knights unconsciously began to inspect their own clothing.

Alexios was not tall, but he was well-proportioned. His hair was a light color, not quite gold, but tending toward it, as was his thick beard.

He wore a silk robe embroidered with various religious and imperial symbols. On his head was the Imperial Crown, a jewel-encrusted cap that fit snugly, from which hung chains that appeared to be made almost entirely of pearls.

”I, Alexios I Komnenos, Emperor of Romania, defender of the Christian faith, the eternal Augustus, welcome you in the name of the Lord, you devout believers and brave Warriors from the West.

You have come from the distant West, bearing a sacred mission, and I hold the deepest respect for your perseverance and Devotion.”

An interpreter beside the Emperor’s throne immediately translated for Eric and his retinue into French, embellishing the Emperor’s words with the flowery language and gestures of the Greek court.

Eric bowed slightly to Alexios. ”I, Eric De Outville, Earl of Gloucester from England, in the name of my king, His Majesty Robert, Lord of England and Normandy, extend to the great and noble Alexios, Emperor of Constantinople, our highest greetings and most devout respect.

May Your Majesty’s Empire prosper under divine protection, and may your fame shine upon the earth like the rising sun, eternal and unending.

My lord, His Majesty Robert, deeply wishes to form a strong alliance with Your Majesty, to jointly protect the Christian faith and defend every inch of sacred land in the Catholic World. We pray the Lord blesses both England and Greece.

May the Father in Heaven wield the Sword of Heaven, granting us guidance, making us ever-victorious and invincible, so that the Holy City of Jerusalem may be restored.”

Eric did not speak Greek, but Norman French, for at this moment he was representing Robert.

”Robert Belem de Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury of England, pays his respects to the Emperor of Constantinople...”

”Stephen de Blois, Count of Blois and Chartres of the Franks, to the Emperor of Constantinople...”

”William de Evreux, Count Evler of Normandy...”

”Ragman Crowan of the Isle of Man...”

”...”

Alexios scanned the crowd below. Once he confirmed they had finished their greetings, he rose from his throne.

”Allow me again to thank you for your generosity and Devotion. All the words in the Greek tongue cannot describe my joy at this moment. May the Lord of Heaven bless you, O Warriors of the Cross.

This audience should have taken place at a more opportune time, but the increasingly dire situation on the Empire’s eastern frontier and a multitude of other duties have kept me occupied. For that, I once again offer my apologies.

And please, allow me to make amends in my own way.

I have prepared a lavish banquet in an adjacent hall to soothe your weary bodies.

So that you might better enjoy this feast, I have prepared not only fine wines and delicacies, but have also arranged for the company of elegant ladies to add to the merriment and refinement of the evening.

May their beauty and talent bring you great pleasure and delight, and make this evening all the more memorable.

I have also arranged for comfortable lodgings to ensure you can rest fully after your long journey. Each room has been appointed to be warm and elegant, with servants on standby to see to your every need.

May you recover your strength on this peaceful night, in preparation for the challenges that lie ahead.”

With that, Alexios left his throne, disappearing behind a screen and, presumably, leaving the great hall.

Guided by Greek Attendants, the Norman Knights trooped boisterously toward the banquet. This, after all, was what they had come for.

As Eric prepared to follow, a Greek Attendant glided past him and murmured in Greek, ”My noble Count, His Majesty the Emperor sends his kindest regards. After you have eaten, please pass through the small door behind the World’s Seat.

He would be honored to speak with you in his private chambers.”

Then, before Eric could respond, the Greek Attendant departed swiftly.

Eric then followed the others through a painted corridor and across gleaming marble floors into another great hall.

The dining tables, also of exquisitely carved pink and cream marble, were laid with white cloths. The air was fragrant with rosewater, cinnamon, and nutmeg, rising from sumptuous dishes served on ceramic and silver-gilt plates.

There was tender lamb with apricot sauce, game birds roasted to a crispy gold and stuffed with wild rice, and glistening silver fish from the rich waters of Golden Horn Bay.

But that was not the main attraction. The main attraction was the magnificently dressed women moving about, pouring wine and carrying large, bread-filled baskets. They were of all complexions, clad in finely embroidered garments and headscarves, with keys and scissors hanging from their belts.

Eric remained in the great hall for only a short while before heading to the meeting place Alexios had designated: the private room behind the Emperor’s throne.

In the small room, there was only one person: Emperor Alexios.