A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

"No need to rush. Let’s wait a bit longer."

On Anselm’s advice, Eric adjusted his strategy in time, allowing him to return with his troops ahead of schedule.

He had originally planned to return to London by water, but with the addition of Baron Velen’s army—a total of nearly nine hundred Knights and six hundred Tenant Cavalry—there weren’t enough ships.

Therefore, Eric could only travel by land. After a three-day forced march, he reached Luton City. At the same time, he received news that the reckless Robert was leading the main force north to Leicester.

Eric left three hundred Knights and four hundred Tenant Cavalry in Luton City to reinforce its defenses.

Luton City is the main pass from the north to London. As long as it was held, they could effectively prevent the King’s Army from moving south in force.

If the battle at Leicester was lost, they could also find temporary refuge in Luton City.

During Eric’s absence, the London Royal Domain, Essex, Suffolk, and Kent had largely thrown their support behind Robert.

The cities in the Cambridge and Oxford regions had developed a keen interest in the autonomy Robert promised, expressing their support and secretly sending citizen representatives behind the backs of their respective Lords.

This was likely the effect of Eric having captured William’s Warhorse barding and Crown.

However, this support was still fragile. If Robert couldn’t continue to achieve military victories, or even ended up in a stalemate with William, these territorial Nobility and city citizens would very likely switch sides as the wind blew.

That was why this battle was so crucial.

"In terms of Knight numbers, Robert certainly doesn’t have the advantage. William is on the defensive, holding a position by the river. Robert is the attacker; if he wants to take the offensive, he has to cross the river. This will be a tough fight."

Belem frowned, looking at the two armies arrayed in the distance.

Then, as if a thought occurred to him, he looked toward Eric.

"Maybe we can make a bluff. Just like in Essex, when we tricked that Earl of Essex. There’s a Forest here, too. We can have the Attendants and Knights..."

"Who do you think William is? Defeated by his own son in London City, his barding and Crown taken from him—he’s probably never suffered such a humiliation in his life. Why do you think he gathered so many Knights to appear on the other side of the river?"

Eric cut Belem off directly.

"Since William is eager for a direct confrontation, what should we do?"

Belem, looking a little bored, plucked a leaf from a tree and started tearing it up.

Eric didn’t answer Belem, his gaze remaining fixed on the two armies in the distance.

"Wait, Belem, have you seen your father?"

"My father? That’s right, why haven’t I seen him? Hasn’t the old man’s leg injury healed yet?"

...

「William’s Camp.」

Beaumont noticed Robert’s movements on the opposite bank.

’He was familiar with this kind of tactic. Deliberately pitching the tents by the riverbank... wasn’t that just to make the enemy think he had no intention of crossing today?’

Beaumont waved to the Attendants behind him.

"Order the Knights to dismount and stand by, but they are not to remove their armor."

"Yes, sir."

But the weight of Chain Armor was not to be underestimated. Wearing it for an extended period was no easy task, even for a veteran Knight.

This was especially true when, after Beaumont gave the order, two hours, then three, then four passed without it being rescinded.

This caused the Knights to grow restless.

"If God can truly see all, may He send a bolt of lightning to strike down this arrogant traveler who has mistakenly wandered into our camp," a middle-aged Knight said to his companion, grooming his Warhorse with a brush.

The middle-aged Knight had slightly dark skin and a handsome head of brown hair, though it was streaked with a lot of white at the temples.

"Keep your voice down, Eric! You’re putting our lives on the line. Don’t let him hear you. Lord Beaumont knows everything."

His companion quickly waved his hand, signaling for him to be quieter.

"If that’s the case, doesn’t he know this damn Chain Armor is crushing the breath out of me? That guy seems to be enjoying the comfort of a ridiculous short blue shirt."

"Eric, if you keep this up, I’m going to have to move away from you. You just won’t listen to reason."

The companion took his reins, led his Warhorse a few steps to the side, and put some distance between himself and the Knight Eric.

"I just don’t get it. I’m a Knight, and he’s a Knight. How come he gets to do whatever he wants on the battlefield, while I can’t even say a couple of words? Isn’t this just like being a beggar on his knees? Besides, I’m the King’s Knight, not his Knight."

"If you’re going to put it that way, then yes, an ordinary Knight really is just a beggar on his knees. And there are plenty of people who’d love the chance to kneel but can’t. He’s the King’s favorite.

His father is the great Viscount Yevry, his mother is the heiress of the Count of Moleyns of Normandy, and he’s the King’s third cousin. In the future, he’ll be both a Count and a Viscount.

He also has countless lands and manors on this godforsaken island called England. He’s wise and sharp, always able to secure benefits for himself with ease.

And you, Eric, you’re just a cheap soldier the great Duke William brought over from Normandy. You only managed to get six Hydes of land and become a common, insignificant Knight after fighting for your life in a few dozen brutal wars.

To put it nicely, that’s what you are. To put it bluntly, you’re just a glorified tenant farmer—a beggar on his knees," his companion added with a sneer.

"I fought a bitter three-month battle against the Danish at York. We had no reinforcements, no supplies. We drank dew when we were thirsty and ate grasshoppers when we were hungry. My hundred-man squad was reduced to just ten. I’ve bled for Duke William, I’ve been wounded for Duke William," Eric grumbled, dissatisfied.

"Honestly, the King doesn’t care about any of that. A good family background is far more important than personal valor. In the King’s mind, the former is much more important than the latter. These days, a man’s greatest achievement is being related to the King."

"..."

...

Beaumont was at the very rear of the camp.

Beside him stood a Knight of similar build, his equipment was of the finest quality, and the coat of arms on his Warhorse’s barding was Beaumont’s own.

This man was one of Beaumont’s Guard Knights, and he was currently wearing Beaumont’s armor.

Compared to Beaumont’s rough traveler’s attire, the other man looked more like the master, while Beaumont himself looked more like a tourist who had happened upon a battlefield.

This was precisely the effect Beaumont wanted to achieve.

Not far behind this Knight was another well-equipped Knight, wearing the King’s armor, with the King’s coat of arms emblazoned on his Warhorse’s barding.

"When do you plan on putting on your armor, cousin Beaumont?"

"Hugh."

Even though it was nearly four o’clock, the sun was still dazzling. Beaumont had handsome features and a very fair complexion, which looked almost blinding under the sunlight.

Hugh of Chester particularly hated that pretty-boy face of his, because it didn’t look like a Knight’s at all.

Beaumont’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Hugh. He wasn’t very fond of this cousin either.

"You should be holding your position, Hugh."

"My men sent me to ask when you plan on putting on your armor."

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