"Don’t worry, I will ensure your safety."
"It sounds like you hold a high rank," Sarah said, looking at Eric.
"It’s decent enough." Eric didn’t answer directly.
The ceremony, which should have been a lively affair, was met with strong opposition due to Eric’s unexpected actions.
As a result, there was no prize money, and certainly no cheers—only the chattering of women.
Eric took Sarah by the hand and went straight back to the tent area.
While the other Knights didn’t go so far as to ostracize him, the initial warmth and camaraderie they had shown him had vanished.
Yuge, however, greeted him as cheerfully as ever.
"You don’t seem bothered at all, do you?" Eric asked with a light chuckle, looking at him.
"Are you kidding me? Dude, that was awesome! A good Knight, especially a young one, has to be reckless a few times! Otherwise, what stories will you have to tell the next generation? Now you’ve got a great story, and it’s way better than your old ones!" Yuge seemed thrilled, playfully punching Eric on the shoulder.
"Alright, alright." Eric was speechless.
’Maybe I shouldn’t have expected much from Yuge.’
"Congratulations, Eric."
It was Stephen.
He was apparently still here, waiting for Eric’s answer.
Stephen extended his hand to Eric.
"Stephen..." Eric began to reach out to take it.
But Stephen immediately withdrew his hand and bowed to Sarah instead.
"A pleasure to meet you, my fair lady. No, today’s Queen of Beauty and Love. I, Stephen of Blois, offer you my sincerest greetings." Stephen bowed elegantly to Sarah before finally shaking Eric’s hand with an apologetic smile. "My apologies. I can’t help it. I have a soft spot for beautiful women and have never been known for my self-control."
"I think I’ve figured out why you’re still not married at thirty. The Tristan of Blois. Am I right?" Eric said, pressing a hand to his forehead.
"Hahaha, I am ever hopeful of becoming one of King Arthur’s Round Table Knights. Though, more than campaigning on the battlefield, I prefer to seek my Violet, my Isode."
"Whether white-handed or golden-haired."
"Hahahaha, yes! In that respect, I am a touch more noble than Tristan himself," Stephen said brazenly.
(Stephen of Blois succeeded as the Count of Blois, Count of Chartres, Count Shatodan, and Count of Mo City in 1089. He was one of the leaders of the First Crusade but deserted during the Siege of Antioch. Under pressure from his wife, Adela, he joined the Crusaders again and died in the Second Battle of Ramla, executed by the Fatimids. His wife was Adela, daughter of Conqueror William. Their son, also named Stephen, succeeded to the throne of England after the death of King Henry I of England, based on his maternal lineage.)
"Alright, alright. Then do me a favor, Stephen. I’d like to ask you to look after Miss Sarah here. I don’t want her to get hurt."
"It would be my pleasure. Tristan is always at the service of a beautiful lady."
As for why he didn’t ask Yuge...
It was because that fellow, despite having won only two matches, was still shamelessly insisting on participating in the group battle.
...
On the other side of the tournament grounds.
Rufus was in his personal tent, being helped into his Chain Armor and spurs by a servant.
Once dressed, he stepped out of the tent, where an Attendant had already brought his Warhorse to the front.
Just as he was about to mount his horse, a Knight came running over from a distance.
"My lord, we have a problem! A mob of vagrants is blocking the gates of Laponti City, demanding entry and aid."
"What? What nonsense are you spouting? Where did these vagrants come from?" Rufus snarled, grabbing the Knight by the collar.
"I-I-I’m not sure. They’re probably from nearby. There have been quite a few vagrants in the area for a while now for various reasons. But I don’t know what got into them today. They’ve all gathered here. At first, we thought it was just a small group, but more and more kept showing up."
"Are you useless? You can’t even handle a bunch of peasants? Have the Knights teach them a lesson," Rufus snorted, shoving the Knight away.
"But... but, but..."
"But what?"
"They claim... they claim..." the Knight stammered.
"Claim what?"
"They claim that you are going to provide aid in Laponti and implement new policies in Mann."
"What the hell? Which bastard spread that bullshit?"
The Knight added awkwardly, "It’s likely that the tournament you’ve been holding recently attracted them."
"For fuck’s sake, where am I supposed to get the money for aid? I can barely cover my own expenses! Tell them to go ask my short-legged older brother!" Rufus roared irritably.
He yanked on the reins, about to ride his Warhorse into the tournament grounds.
But after riding just a few steps, he pulled the reins again, halting his Warhorse and looking back at the Knight.
"Do they have leaders among them?" Rufus asked.
"Probably... I think so."
"Find a way to speak with those leaders alone. Give each of them some Silver Coins. Tell them I’m willing to give each of them a plot of land, or even an enterprise that would allow them to settle in the city. Then let them leave with five carts of grain.
If they refuse, then none of them need to live. They’re just a rabble. A few charges from the cavalry, and the whole lot of them will scatter.
Send more Knights to the city gate. Once they see some blood, they’ll know to quiet down."
"Yes, my lord," the Knight replied.
Rufus then entered the tournament grounds. Count Hugo of Mann was leaning against the entrance.
"Brother William, I’ll never understand why you northerners are so obsessed with this sort of thing. War is risky, and so are tournaments. You could get your head split open at any moment. Why not find some more relaxing pleasures in life?
Food, drink, women, even men, operas, plays, Minstrels... aren’t those far more interesting than this?"
"Hugo, stop your incessant chattering. To be honest, I have no interest in your decadent lifestyle. Only the weak pursue such things.
Let me tell you, for me, eating and sleeping are hardly what I’d call pleasure. I’ll tell you what real pleasure is for a Norman. Now you listen up!
It’s when both sides are shouting ’Kill them!’, when riderless Warhorses collapse in the gloom, when men are screaming ’Help me! Help me!’,
It’s when I see them—no matter who—fall into ditches overgrown with weeds, when I see men with broken lances and tattered banners dead on the ground, when I see the enemy on their knees, suffering, wailing, roaring, struggling, and convulsing.
That is what brings me joy! I’m telling you, that is true pleasure!" Rufus gave a cruel smile, then with a flick of his reins, charged into the arena.
"What a vile man. It seems I won’t get along with the people here. May God protect you always, William." Hugo shook his head, shrugged, and raised his cup, taking a large gulp of cider. Then he raised his cup again. "But the cider is good. So I like it here."
As Rufus entered the field, the entire crowd erupted in cheers once more.
"Teach that Jewish Knight a lesson! Our Prince!"
"The noble Franks will never accept such a humiliation!"
"Show him what’s what! Avenge Christ!"
"..."
Without a doubt, Rufus was now the star of the show.
There were about twenty Knights participating in the group battle, each of whom had won at least four matches.
They formed teams of two. One Knight was responsible for offense, while the other provided support and guarded any prisoners and spoils.
"Looks like the crowd is fired up," Eric remarked. He saw Rufus, who was now staring right back at him.
’This is good.’
"So let’s show him what’s what. We’ll give them a thrashing! The championship is definitely ours. Right, Eric?"
"Yes, we’ll win," Eric said. With a flick of his reins, he moved to his designated position.
The area for the group battle was much larger than for the individual duels, and there were no restrictions, as long as one didn’t go out of bounds.
A Knight could win by knocking another Knight off his horse, capturing him alive, or dragging his opponent’s Warhorse out of bounds. Contestants generally preferred the latter two options.
This was because the victor could claim the spoils for himself—such as the Warhorse, Sword, and spurs—and a captured Knight, just as in a real war, would have to pay a hefty ransom.