A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

All of this makes it impossible for us to survive.

Our King, we know you rule with mercy and are known for your generosity. We implore you to hear the cries of your subjects.”

”Do you know the consequences of carrying weapons and trespassing in the Royal Forest?” Robert lowered his riding crop.

”We know, but we have no other choice.”

A tense silence filled the air. The villagers held their breath, awaiting Robert’s verdict.

After a few moments, Robert turned and nodded to the nobles at his side. A nobleman immediately gestured, and the hounds were led away as the horses backed up slightly.

”Go. I will dismiss the Forester here. From now on, between November and March, you may enter my Forest to gather firewood, hunt a reasonable number of hares, and pass through my lands.

If any future Forester kills your beasts of burden, you may appeal to the Church court. The Church court will have the right to petition me for the dismissal of any unfit Forester.”

”The Lord of Heaven bless our King!”

”The Lord of Heaven bless our King!”

The villagers cheered.

”Is it really wise for Robert to relinquish so much power, Eric?” Belem rode up beside Eric and spoke in a low voice.

”Sometimes, holding too much power is not a good thing. If the people feel their King is omnipresent and omnipotent, it often places him in a perilous position. Because once a cold wind blows through such a Kingdom, making the people uncomfortable, they will heap all their complaints upon the King.

Power and responsibility are two sides of the same coin. To bear too much power means to bear too much responsibility. When a King’s power is absolute, so too is his responsibility.

When the people of the Kingdom fall on hard times, they will, almost by instinct, hold the King responsible for their predicament.

And when they do, their anger has usually built to an unbearable level. If the King cannot offer a satisfactory solution, then...” Eric trailed off.

”Then what?” Belem pressed.

But just as Belem finished speaking, a silver streak shot past.

A pained scream followed. One of the petitioners clutched his arm, an arrow embedded in it, and began to cry out in agony.

It wasn’t just the villagers; even the Barons were thrown into a panic.

”Well, well. My dear brother. What are you and your men doing lingering here?”

Rufus, who had vanished into the Forest earlier, suddenly emerged. He rode out from among the trees on horseback, a bow in hand. Clearly, the arrow had been his.

”Apologize, Rufus,” Robert said.

Rufus smirked, his gaze shifting to the wounded villager. ”How unlucky. I thought you were a hare. My apologies, peasant. Next time, remember to stay clear. Don’t get in the way of my Arrow.”

He circled the wounded villager on his horse. With a hand on his chest, he gave the man a slight, mocking bow.

He spoke in French, which the villagers couldn’t understand.

”Take responsibility for your actions, Rufus,” Robert said, his voice cold as he stared at his brother.

”Responsibility?” Rufus laughed. ”Fine. I’ll take responsibility, my dear brother.”

Rufus untied a pouch from his belt, pulled it open, and grabbing a handful of silver pence, threw them at the villagers. ”Be grateful, you peasants.”

Many of the silver pence he threw struck the villagers on the head, causing them to cry out in pain.

Rufus smiled, satisfied. Then, with a sharp tug on the reins, he spurred his Warhorse back into the Forest, ignoring everyone else.

Robert compensated the wounded villager and gave the people the game he and the Barons had hunted that day.

On the way back, Robert said to Eric, ”Eric, I can trust you easily. But my brother, Rufus... he’s completely different.”

There was a hint of exhaustion in Robert’s voice. ”He swore fealty to me, just as you did. I would entrust my life to you. But him...”

He trailed off again.

”Eric, I hate him. But he’s my brother. I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want to see him come to harm.

It would break our mother’s heart.

I don’t know if she truly trusts Rufus, but she believes he deserves another chance. A mother’s love, Eric.

There is nothing more powerful, and at times, nothing more blind.

It’s just as I firmly believe that if our father ever defeated me, our mother would save me.

I trust my mother unconditionally. ’A man who cannot love his own family, how can he love others?’ That is what she taught me.”

”I understand, Robert. But you cannot let him remain in England. He must come with us. Perhaps God will teach him how to be a good man,” Eric said.

——————

P.S. I’ve read the comments from the last Chapter soliciting ideas for the Eastern Expedition plot, and many readers agreed with the idea of attacking Egypt by way of Tunisia.

That was my initial thought as well. However, after researching the route from Tunisia to Egypt, I realized it’s incredibly complex. Landing in Tunisia would mean an overland march to Egypt through vast stretches of the Libyan Desert and the deserts of Western Egypt. There are very few cities or villages in the desert to offer shelter, meaning the army would depend on long supply lines that could be easily disrupted in such a harsh environment.

Furthermore, there are no Holy Land sites in North Africa to inspire morale. A single setback could lead to a total rout. If the goal is to invade Egypt, it would be much more feasible to follow the route of the Seventh Crusade led by Saint Louis, King of France. That is, a naval invasion from Cyprus Island targeting the Nile Delta or the Alexandria Patriarchate. Attacking outside the Nile River’s flood season would have a higher chance of success and would also relieve pressure on Jerusalem.