Chapter 82
The Medieval-Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset 82
82. I Will Do It
It was spring, when the cold of early spring had not yet completely subsided, that the pagan raiders appeared on the coast of the Duchy of Powys.
The rising black smoke and flames, and the war horses galloped endlessly, spreading the ominous news throughout the duchy. It was already a situation where victims had emerged, beyond the level of mere rumors.
“Two knights have fallen to the pagan hordes!”
Even then, those who denied and ignored reality spoke like this.
While the Duchy of Penrad is being focused on with full force, there is no way that much force would have been directed to Powys. It was simply missed due to unclear information transmission amidst the repeated chaos. It is a plot by the pagans to promote anxiety.
All these claims were dismissed by the bereaved families of the knights.
The bereaved families came to the main castle of Powys with the coffin containing the body and requested an audience with King Athelstan. King Athelstan, who noticed the seriousness of the situation, immediately granted permission and soon realized that the information was true.
The other vassals, who had come together to chase away curiosity and anxiety, felt the same way.
“The body doesn’t have a head?”
“The pagans would never have given up the body easily… How did they recover it?”
To all these questions, the bereaved families of the fallen knights gave a clear answer.
One of the knight’s sons knelt down and appealed with tears in his eyes, filled with resentment.
“They said they didn’t need anything else than my father’s head and returned it.”
“….”
The fact that the pagans who serve Ise enjoy human sacrifice is common knowledge shared by all.
Everyone had a rough idea of what the fallen knight would have looked like by now. It was close to blasphemy against the deceased, so they avoided mentioning it directly. The only exception was one person, Bishop Hou Narva, who stood to the left of King Athelstan.
“Is there anything else you have heard?”
The son of the fallen knight was a boy even younger than Narva.
Nevertheless, one of the vassals, disgusted by the fact that he was asking for the facts so calmly without any consideration, opened his mouth.
“Yes, it’s too much of a question for a child who hasn’t yet recovered from the shock.”
“As the son of a knight, if you didn’t know what would happen if you were defeated by the pagans, it would be better to live as a serf.”
The answer that came back was very cold.
Even King Athelstan was groaning and wondering what to say, but Narva was the only one who relentlessly pursued the child who had lost his parents. Narva asked the knight’s son all sorts of questions.
“Were you with your father as a squire?”
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“No, I was left at the estate because it was dangerous…”
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“Then tell me in detail how many men and equipment your father mobilized when he left for the expedition. The church will give you various benefits to the extent of the property you lost on this expedition.”
“Oh, really?! Thank you, thank you!”
Narva’s declaration of support must have been welcome news to the knight’s son, who had been so gloomy.
The fact that he was smiling brightly, as if he had forgotten the death of his father until just now, proved that reality was not easy. Perhaps for the son, the loss that had to be filled immediately was more worrisome than the death of his father.
However, while Narva was appeasing the bereaved families of the fallen, someone who had been watching calmly opened his mouth.
“In the end, wasn’t the bishop’s policy meaningless?”
A distorted burn scar across his cheek, indifferent eyes and slightly dull pupils.
It was Count Oduard, who had been keeping quiet and holding his breath until now.
“You asked us for a lot of burden and compensation, saying that you would block the pagans who are raiding the coast. I sympathized with the cause and willingly endured the sacrifice, but I am very disappointed to hear the news today.”
Count Oduard was a man who thoroughly represented only the position of a vassal.
The defense system that Bishop Hou Narva had built up through many concessions and compromises had been quite active, but that was all. Even a single failure was enough to unite the opposition and create an atmosphere of criticism.
Especially considering Narva’s special background, he would not have wanted to miss this opportunity.
A close aide to the Pope. A blood relative of King Athelstan. And a stigmata bearer and ecclesiastical prince.
As a secular lord, and as a vassal who did not want to strengthen the royal power, Bishop Hou Narva was the antithesis that had to be broken. It was also the first time that Count Oduard, who had maintained an ambiguous attitude until now, had revealed his political views.
Even some of the vassals, who had been wary of the bishop-duke’s growing power, joined in.
“Ahem. There is some truth in Count Haudry de Ben’s words.”
“While I admit that the bishop-duke’s policies have had some effect, I can’t help but feel that they have become somewhat complacent. I wonder if this was truly the best course of action.”
Narva mentally noted each of the vassals who voiced these sentiments, then finally fixed his gaze on Count Haudry.
The count’s aggressive speech reminded him of rumors he had heard through Edwina.
‘I see. He’s trying to rein in the bishop-duke by using this as an excuse, since he has acquired his own source of funding.’
He had guessed as much when he had received word that salt merchants were gathering in Count Haudry’s fiefdom of De Ben.
Narva suspected that Count Haudry had succeeded in developing a new rock salt mine. He must have kept the news of its development under wraps by taking advantage of the political turmoil and the various conspiracy theories surrounding King Aethelstan.
The potential wealth that the salt trade could bring was enough to justify such an endeavor. If he could grow his wealth undisturbed by his fellow vassals or his liege lord, and then use that wealth to arm soldiers, he would become the most powerful lord in the duchy.
However, there was one person who stood in the way of Count Haudry’s ambitious plans.
‘You can’t make money and try to take it away from others.’
It was none other than Narva, whose keen eye could see through people’s tricks in an instant.
Narva directed a cold smile at Count Haudry and replied, “On the contrary, I believe that this tragedy occurred because of a lack of support.”
“A lack of support? When we were burdened with such a heavy military obligation?”
“Yes. If we had sent thirty men, including not only the two knights but also squires, we could have avoided the loss of life.”
“Your Grace, with or without Sir Terbair, thirty knights or two would have made no difference. It was Your Grace who endangered this country by insisting on supporting the Duchy of Penrad.”
Count Haudry pointed out the fatal weakness of the Duchy of Powys and adopted an air of confidence.
In fact, the reason why King Aethelstan had been accepted despite his dubious succession was because of his sons. The eldest son, Eadred, was known for his ability to persuade and appeal the vassals, while the second son, Terbair, had an unbroken record of outrage against the pagan raiders.
Terbair, in particular, was highly regarded for his martial prowess, despite some flaws in his character.
Ironically, this very reputation had become a weapon against King Aethelstan and his supporters.
Count Haudry continued to level harsh criticism at Narva, arguing that the decision to support the Duchy of Penrad had been a mistake.
“We keep hearing that the number of pagans is in the thousands. We must recall Sir Terbair before it is too late!”
Terbair must be here, we cannot hold out without Terbair, why did we send Terbair away…
Some of the other lords, who had been watching the situation in silence, began to voice their own anxieties, turning the audience chamber into a scene of condemnation. However, even in this situation, King Aethelstan had to remain silent.
That was because, just as the king was about to rise to his feet with trembling legs, Bishop-Duke Narva caught his eye and gave him a subtle glance. The fact that his aide, Sir Aubert, who was standing to his right, was looking haggard was another reason.
“Your Majesty. For now, it would be wise to follow the bishop-duke’s proposal.”
“…”
“I agree with the bishop-duke. If word were to spread that Your Majesty is shielding the bishop-duke out of a sense of kinship, it would only serve to strengthen their resolve.”
“The powerless are miserable everywhere.”
In the end, King Aethelstan nodded in agreement, his voice trailing off.
In place of the agonizing King Aethelstan, Bishop-Duke Narva spoke. When the voices of condemnation had reached a fever pitch and then began to subside, he opened his mouth.
“Then, what if someone who had received Sir Terbair’s strong recommendation to be a squire were to take to the front lines? Someone who had come close to being knighted by Sir Terbair.”
At that, the gazes of the lords who had been murming at Narva turned to each other.
Their eyes held a mixture of doubt and bewilderment.
“Sir Terbair is known for having a sharp eye for talent, so he wouldn’t leave someone like that as a squire.”
“Sir Terbair had a squire?”
If it was Terbair’s squire, then he must be competent. If such a person existed, why was he still unknown?
All sorts of speculation and arguments began to fly around, erasing the atmosphere of condemnation from just a moment before. This was an unwelcome development for Count Haudry, who had been hoping for Narva’s downfall or, at the very least, his failure.
Count Haudry tightened his grip on the reins of the debate in order to prevent the lords’ opinions from becoming divided.
“I have never heard of such a person. I cannot help but think that this is a feeble attempt by Your Grace to avoid the political crisis. Is there truly such a person?”
“Of course there is.”
At that moment, Narva raised his right thumb.
A brief silence descended. The lords glanced at one another, wondering why he had suddenly raised his thumb, and then they looked in the direction it was pointing and were stunned.
“If you promise me sufficient support, I am confident that I can find someone brave enough to step forward.”
Narva’s right thumb was pointing at himself.
“Your Grace… this is a serious matter. Please refrain from making such unfunny jokes.”
“A joke?”
Count Oduard tried to dismiss it with a chuckle, but Narva glared at him with a chilling look in his eyes.
“Even you and your knights could not defeat me.”
Narva’s arrogance instantly cooled the atmosphere in the audience chamber.
Even the neutral observers, such as Count Pheasan, who was relatively well-disposed towards Narva, found their expressions hardening.
“…Can you prove that?”
“You will need to support me enough so that I do not have to resort to empty words. Gather your soldiers. I will show you how to deal with the pagans.”
Narva pulled down his black shoulder cape as he spoke.
“If you wish to challenge me, then do so.”
***
March 3, 1213.
As the news of Bishop Duke Narva’s arrogant words spread, he faced all sorts of criticism.
Most of it came from knights, either out of a sense of rivalry or because they were outraged that he had tarnished the honor of knighthood. And Narva proved exactly why he had been granted the Black Shoulder Cape.
Clang-.
A knight stared blankly at the sword that had been knocked out of his hand.
Narva pointed the blunt end of his mace at his neck without hesitation.
After a moment of silence, the defeated knight spoke first.
“How many years did you train under Lord Tervere…?”
“Four years.”
“Four years…”
Four years could be a short or a very long time, depending on the person.
The knight, who knew how Tervere treated his recruits, was easily convinced by the four years.
“I yield.”