"Greetings, esteemed Marchioness. Your loyal servant, Ugo de Capone, Guard Captain of Canossa, sends his greetings for the day."
Guard Captain Ugo, along with a group of Knights from the gate, descended from the gatehouse and paid his respects to the woman with the grimy face beside Eric.
This caused a stir among the Normans, but Eric remained calm.
"I’m sure there were others."
For instance, Matilda’s mother, Beatrice. Matilda didn’t even have to think to know her mother must have sent people to find her.
She had never been willing to let Matilda out of her control, not as long as her mother was alive.
"And so you did not see them," Ugo said, bowing to Matilda.
He had sent away the Knights Beatrice had dispatched to find Matilda.
Although Ugo agreed with Beatrice’s proposal, he did not approve of such drastic actions.
Just as that overly compassionate guard had said, Matilda had already proven herself to be an excellent Marchioness last year.
She could not decide her own marriage, but she could decide where she went.
’If only she weren’t a woman.’
Ugo sighed with heartfelt emotion.
"Thank you, Ugo. In these bleak times, you are one of the few people who can put me at ease."
Matilda dismounted, pointed to her Warhorse—the Andalusian Horse resting on the cart—and had Ugo take it to be treated for its injuries.
Then she took Vagina by the hand and started walking into the city.
But she had not taken more than a few steps before Ugo’s voice sounded from behind her.
"I am not loyal to any single person, only to Tuscan. I have always believed that discerning what must be done from what must not is a virtue, one I constantly strive for."
Ugo was clearly speaking to her.
"Are you trying to dispel my brief moment of ease? Are you planning to lecture me?" Matilda stopped in her tracks, turned her head, and looked at Ugo.
She knew Ugo was making his stance clear now. While he was willing to offer her convenience, that was the extent of it.
"No, I merely wish to remind you that Tuscan has guests today. You shouldn’t leave them hanging."
Ugo was obviously referring to the Normans who had arrived with Matilda.
Matilda let go of Vagina’s hand, touched her fingers to her forehead, and then bowed to Eric.
Then, she crisply turned and left.
She didn’t seem to want to stay a moment longer.
"Esteemed nobles of Normandy, on behalf of Tuscan, I apologize to you for our Marchioness. She is brilliant and possesses all the virtues required to rule Tuscan, but her fate has been fraught with hardship, and she cannot seem to escape her personal plight.
She remains strong and brave in many matters concerning Tuscan, but when it comes to her own affairs, she appears quite fragile, for she is constantly trying to escape them.
Not long ago, she was wounded by the Sword of someone very close to her, but thankfully, the Holy See extended its aid in her time of need.
But once a scar is formed, it is difficult to heal. However, you need not worry about this.
Tomorrow, when you, the nobles of Normandy, formally discuss the matter of the tripartite alliance between Normandy, Tuscan, and the Holy See, she will remain mature and rational at all times," the Guard Captain, Ugo, said humbly, bowing to Eric and his men.
"God teaches us to be peaceful. We shall remember that," Eric replied.
"Forgive my presumption, but are you a Bishop of Normandy?" Ugo asked, looking at Eric with some curiosity.
"Sir of Tuscan, before you stands a noble Count, the esteemed Lord Gloucester of the Norman Kingdom, Eric De Outville. Have no doubt, do not hesitate; it is as you suspect—he is of the legendary Norman Clan from south of Tuscan."
The one who spoke was Eric’s Herald, a fifty-year-old man. He was a Priest from Poitiers, and people called him William of Poitiers.
Though fifty, his voice was still loud and clear.
This old man had been assigned to him by Robert. Eric had initially intended to refuse, as he preferred to keep a low profile.
But on the journey from Normandy all the way to Tuscan, every time they reached the territory of a noble and he heard the old man announce his titles, he felt a unique sense of satisfaction.
’Eric was starting to rather enjoy it.’
"I imagine you must be a man of great Devotion, just as you and your Lord have so resolutely chosen to stand with Saint Peter."
"I hope our arrival can resolve the troubles of Saint Peter, as well as those of our ally, Tuscan." Eric dismounted and took Ugo’s hand quite naturally. "On that note, I don’t see my friend, Robert Belem, the Earl of Shrewsbury. He’s the fellow with only half his long hair; the other half was lopped off by the old King’s Knights. He should be easy to spot in a crowd."
Ugo felt something being pressed into his hand and discreetly slipped it into his pocket.
Though he wasn’t particularly fond of such things, it was better than nothing. Best to be prepared.
"Er... My Lord Eric, regarding the Earl of Shrewsbury... he became embroiled in a dispute. I have always advocated for peaceful resolutions, but he happened to catch the Marchioness on a bad day.
Fortunately, he has been released now. You will find him once you enter Canossa Castle."
With that, Ugo led Eric and his Norman Knights into Canossa City, heading toward Canossa Castle in the northwest corner.
The city streets were wide and paved with flagstones, lined with shops and street vendors. The marketplace bustled with people, and the calls of merchants rose and fell. A fountain stood in the central square, surrounded by towering buildings with balconies overflowing with flowers.
The wine industry was quite prosperous. It was already dusk, yet loading workers were still rolling barrel after barrel of wine beneath a vintner’s sign.
Apparently, there was also a night market, and most of the citizens lived within the city. Though it was already late, not many people were in a hurry to leave.
This place was remarkably prosperous. On the surface, it looked even more magnificent than Rouen.
The large contingent of Norman Knights with Eric soon drew gasps from the citizens.
"Dammit, where did so many Normans come from?"
"Did the Normans invade? Aren’t they usually in the south?"
"I heard the Holy See allied with the Normans. They were probably brought in by them."
"Rome has really sunk to a new low, getting in bed with Normans?"
"Just tell me, can they fight or not?"
"But the Normans are notoriously treacherous. Nope, I’m out of here. I’m going to Lombardy to lie low. See you."
"..."
After walking for about half an hour, Eric entered Canossa Castle. However, before he could even step inside, he spotted the ’friend’ he was looking for, Belem.
Belem was on the castle wall—not standing on it, but hanging from the gatehouse, trussed up like a caterpillar from head to toe.
Since he wasn’t secured, he was left dangling from a single rope, spinning back and forth.
Belem had sharp eyes. The instant Eric spotted him, he spotted Eric right back.
He wriggled his caterpillar-like body relentlessly, trying to get Eric’s attention.
"What the hell did you do, commit a cardinal sin?" Eric asked, looking at Belem, who was bound up like a mummy.
"How the hell should I know? I was just sleeping! How did I get tied up again? I was just let down yesterday!
Is there any justice?! Is there any law?!
What did I do wrong?"