A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

At that moment, Ugo began to cough violently, signaling his subordinates in the hall.

”Oh, so that beautiful woman from yesterday was Lady Judith. No wonder she has such a distinguished air.”

”It’s only natural for a nephew to want to present a gift to his aunt. It’s just a shame that such a tragedy occurred. I hope Lady Judith wasn’t alarmed.”

”Indeed, I was also invited to yesterday’s banquet. It’s quite frightening to think about.”

”It is rather strange, though. If someone had poisoned the banquet, how could they have managed to kill only one person?”

”...”

”Ugo, have the maids bring up the leftovers from yesterday’s banquet,” Eric ordered, sending Ugo to the kitchen. He then explained to the assembled nobles, ”The Marchioness is a person of great Devotion, and God teaches us to be frugal. Thus, after any banquet, the leftover food is recooked the following day and given as alms to the needy.”

The crowd murmured their praise, but Matilda, seated in her chair, couldn’t bring herself to feel happy at all.

A short while later, Ugo returned to the hall with a retinue of maids.

The maids carried more than twenty platters, on which were arranged the very leftovers from the previous night.

At that moment, the physician arrived as well.

He and Eric examined the food remaining on each platter together.

Eric finally stopped before a platter and picked up a piece of food with his bare hands—a piece of Burdock.

He held it up for the physician to see.

”Marquis, are you suggesting someone poisoned the Burdock?”

The physician took the Burdock.

He applied force with both hands, seeming to struggle slightly before the Burdock snapped in two.

The color inside was normal, showing no discoloration.

He then sniffed the piece of Burdock.

Next, he took another piece of Burdock from the plate. This time, however, he snapped it easily and even crumbled it into pieces.

The physician’s expression shifted slightly as he looked at Eric.

”This isn’t Burdock. It’s a Mandala root,” Eric said. ”Burdock is harmless, but Mandala root is a deadly poison. People often confuse the two plants because they look identical, even after being cooked.

Some poor maid, while purchasing ingredients at the market, must have come across a foolish and careless merchant selling Burdock mixed with Mandala. And so, this dangerous plant found its way to yesterday’s banquet table.

Fortunately, by the grace of God, my aunt, Lady Judith, is unharmed. Otherwise, how could I ever face my uncle?”

Eric adopted a sorrowful expression.

”Truly, it was the grace of God. Had a noble lady lost her life to such an unfortunate coincidence, it would have been a terrible pity.”

”A pity. Administrative Officer Cesare was a respectable man. Perhaps his recent actions angered God.”

”Yes, that was truly insolent. Perhaps he was fooled as well. That Antonio from Florence is no good.”

”...”

Some of the nobles accepted Eric’s explanation, attributing the incident to coincidence or divine punishment. While some remained skeptical of this conclusion, they couldn’t immediately find a way to refute it.

After everyone had gradually departed from the hall, Eric walked over to Matilda.

Ugo discreetly gave the two of them some space.

Matilda stood up, not looking at Eric. She was twisting the Norman-style ring on her finger, the one that represented Gloucester County. Her own ring, the one for Tuscany, was now on Eric’s hand.

”Is it true?” Matilda asked abruptly.

”Of course it’s fake,” Eric said. ”How could there be such a coincidence? Why would I invite Cesare?”

”Then where did the Mandala come from?”

”I usually keep some on hand. A small dose of Mandala juice can ease the pain from a wound. I worked as a Herbalist when I was a Cultivator,” Eric explained.

Matilda then lowered her head, staring at the ring and saying nothing more.

”We need to go to Pisa as soon as possible. Attributing Cesare’s death to a coincidence might not convince many people. A rebellion sometimes only needs an excuse. It no longer matters whether Cesare was murdered or committed suicide.

No one has the patience to listen to us play detective here. We must seize control of Pisa with the utmost speed,” Eric continued.

”I’ve had my people investigating these past two days. Cesare’s strange behavior was likely related to his family’s business, which is on the verge of bankruptcy.

According to Pisan custom, a bankrupt family can neither continue to serve as an Administrative Officer nor keep its seat on the Governance Council. Cesare’s son is currently a member of the Pisan Governance Council.”

”The wool trade has been doing well recently.”

”No, banking. ’Wool merchant’ is just a derogatory nickname. His grandfather made his fortune in wool, but by his father’s time, they had started opening banks and operating a lending business.”

”Competing with the Jews for business? Pisa is so close to Rome. Wasn’t he afraid of being excommunicated by the Holy See?”

”These bankers all claim that banking isn’t usury,” Matilda explained. ”Usurers profit by lending to the desperate, while they earn money through credit and trade. They say their credit gives people who have nothing but dreams and talent a chance—a chance to display their abilities in any field.”

”In practice, there’s little difference most of the time, at least for now,” Eric said.

”Yes. Two years ago, Cesare de’ Lanfranchi of the Lanfranchi Bank lent the Marquis of Milan a sum of fifteen thousand Marks to support his youngest son, Hugo, in his bid for Mann County.

According to their agreement, it was to be repaid within eight months. The Marquis of Milan ended up being overdue by a year and four months. With principal and interest, the loan now stands at twenty thousand Marks.

Last month, the Marquis of Milan managed to scrape together ten thousand Marks to make an initial payment. However, a riot broke out in Milan not long ago, and the money was stolen by the mob.

At the beginning of this year, the Eastern Heretics raised their tariffs, causing widespread unemployment in Pisa. This left the Lanfranchi Bank short on funds, and then they learned they couldn’t collect the debt from the Marquis of Milan. A penniless Lanfranchi has no way of controlling Pisa.” Matilda released her grip on the ring.

”After we’ve dealt with Pisa, we may have to fight Milan before we face the Emperor. The Holy See’s agent in Milan, Elrond, is in a terrible position right now. The mobs have broken into serious factional infighting. Milan could side with the Emperor.”

”War?” Matilda tilted her head up, her interest apparently piqued.

”Yes. Consider it a warm-up for the Emperor’s arrival. If all goes well, the Tuscan territories will be expanded.”

”I’ll need my own place in all this,” Matilda said, looking at Eric.

”Without a doubt.” Eric caressed her cheek. ”I’m sorry for today.”

”For what?”

”For everything.”

”Sorry to me?”

”Yes.”

”And perhaps to others.”

”And to God.”

”God... May God have mercy on us...” Matilda moved away from Eric’s side, descended the dais alone, and walked toward the hall’s exit. She paused at the doorway and looked back at him. ”Even if it is the worst of news, I want to hear the truth, not lies, no matter how silver your tongue.”