The King’s Knights cried out in alarm, and the perceptive William immediately realized something was wrong. He dug his spurs hard into his warhorse’s flanks, and the startled animal accelerated.
But by now, it was too late. William was already within range of the Lance. Eric swung his Lance and thrust at William. Years of battlefield experience had William instinctively ducking, just barely dodging the attack. The tip of the Lance grazed his neck, leaving a line of blood.
The stinging pain enraged William, but Eric gave him no time to be angry. Having missed his target, Eric’s Lance immediately struck William’s warhorse on its left foreleg. The sharp point pierced the warhorse’s hide, and the pain made it rear up.
It stopped in its tracks, its two front hooves rising as it let out a pained shriek.
The warhorse’s sudden lurch forward caught the injured William completely off guard. The reins flew from his grasp, and his body was thrown violently backward.
Eric immediately hurled the entire Lance at William, its shaft smacking him across the right cheek. At the exact moment his warhorse passed William’s, he shot out a hand and expertly snatched the reins of the King’s mount.
He then fiercely kicked his horse’s belly with his spurs, and the warhorse surged forward once more. The pull from Eric yanked William’s rearing warhorse back onto all fours, forcing it to run along with Eric’s mount.
For the moment, William was no longer in danger of falling from his warhorse. But having lost the reins, he had now completely lost control of his mount.
Furthermore, the Lance had injured the left foreleg of William’s warhorse. Although the wound wasn’t deep, it still affected its speed. It struggled to keep up with Eric’s warhorse, leaving William perched precariously on its back.
He could only lean forward and cling to the warhorse’s back, gripping its mane to keep from being thrown off.
"Your respected Majesty, the great Conqueror William! Your bravest and most fearless son, the true master of Normandy and the rightful heir to England, Duke Robert, invites you to be his guest in London City!
We firmly believe that treacherous villains within the Kingdom have clouded your judgment, causing your once-devout self to stray from the will of God. We trust that a rendezvous with your most loyal son within the cleansed walls of London City will compel you to once again submit to His will."
Eric’s words were standard courtly rhetoric, but they held no trace of respect, only pure mockery. This enraged William.
"State your Name!"
"Patience, my respected King. You will know it soon enough. Before long, the glory of your Crown will make my name echo throughout the world of the Lord of Heaven."
"Save your dream talk for when you’re asleep! You traitorous cur, go chase your delusional glory in your dreams!"
William shifted into what he felt was a more stable position, watching the ground rush past him.
’I cannot lose. And even if I do, it absolutely cannot be in such a humiliating way.’
Eric continuously spurred the warhorse beneath him, forcing it to accelerate, but there was a limit to its speed. After all, the warhorses of the King’s Knights were all top-quality stock.
’Getting Conqueror William safely back to London City won’t be easy. There aren’t enough troops outside the city to provide backup, and I have no idea what the situation is at the gates.’
’The best option would be to find a hiding place and wait it out for a bit. But that’s only if I can find one, especially with several hundred King’s Knights on my tail.’
’Perhaps... just killing this old man right now would be a better choice.’
’But if I did that, what about Robert...?’
As Eric was lost in thought, he suddenly sensed something. He whipped his head around. William, who had been on the warhorse just a moment ago, had vanished.
He quickly pulled on the reins to halt his warhorse, then hastily dismounted to search for any trace of Conqueror William.
But it was the middle of the night, and he didn’t have a Torch, so he couldn’t see anything beyond five or six meters.
He heard the urgent pounding of hooves again. The King’s Knights were closing in. There was no time to waste.
"He gets worked up after just a couple of taunts? So much for the ’Conqueror.’"
Eric shook his head. It was a shame, but perhaps it wasn’t entirely a bad thing.
Just as he turned to leave, a glint of light caught his eye.
He ran forward a few steps, bent down, and picked the object up. It was the Crown.
’This will have to do.’
Eric chuckled, lightly tossing the Crown in his hand.
Hearing the shouts behind him, he placed the Crown into his storage space, scrambled onto his warhorse, and once again grabbed the reins of William’s mount. As the King’s personal steed, its caparison bore the royal coat of arms. It could serve as proof of his recent feat of arms, or at the very least, he could sell it for seventy or eighty pounds—not an insignificant sum.
He spurred his warhorse on, heading toward a high slope.
Leif and the other members of his Warband hadn’t left yet. They were all gathered around a bonfire, looking for all the world as if they were enjoying a peaceful night.
It was as if they were here for a camping trip, not a war.
"You all seem quite relaxed."
"You didn’t give us any orders, did you?"
Leif stood up, looking at Eric.
Leif knew Eric had left them here to draw the enemy’s attention. If they failed to serve that purpose, their presence would be meaningless.
He hated this kind of assignment. This sort of job was usually given to Attendants or non-combatants—cannon fodder, in short.
Leif found he had an inexplicable trust in Eric, which puzzled him.
He noticed the extra warhorse behind Eric, its caparison magnificent.
"Looks like we missed a lot."
Of course, Leif also noticed the Arrow in Eric’s right forearm.
"You were the same way when the camp was attacked last time. At this rate, I don’t see why you even bothered putting a team together."
"The race is not always to the swift. Rest assured, we won’t lose a single thing that’s ours. I want every single person in our Warband to witness that glorious moment. I see the trust you have in me, and I understand it perfectly."
"I hope so. Though Odin would be more pleased to hear the horns of war."
"There will be chances. We won’t just be a sideshow. Alright, pity party’s over. We have more important things to do now. Everyone, mount up."
Eric raised his Longsword.
He wasn’t sure exactly how many troops Conqueror William had.
But now the Knights had all been led into London City by Robert, and they wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.
To be safe, he needed to deal with the siege engines at the main camp quickly. Although it would be very difficult for those machines to breach the walls of London City, it would be a major problem if Conqueror William got his hands on them.
A short while later, Eric reached the main camp. Just as he had expected, only a small number of Attendants remained. The Giant Crossbows and Catapults had been left behind.
Eric quickly called his men over to start moving the equipment.
Their main priority was the Giant Crossbows. They weren’t excessively large and had pulleys, making them relatively easy to transport. There were ten in total, and they took them all.
The Catapults were too bulky. There were twenty in all, and Eric only planned on moving half of them. As for the remaining ten, Eric ordered his men to break their critical components.
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