A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

"Do you know about beekeeping? It’s a very impressive skill. There are only a few beekeepers in Mann, and he was one of them.

"My father said that the sweetness of honey brings joy to people living hard lives, so he loved beekeeping. I learned a lot from him.

"In spring and summer, there are more flowers, so there’s more honey, but it also has a lot of water content, making it runnier. The honey from autumn and winter is the best. After filtering, it’s free of pollen and excess water.

"Every year on Epiphany, my father would give some of his honey to the village church for free. Father Peter at the Church is very clever; he would make sure everyone got a chance to taste it.

"My father loved to see how happy it made people, but things didn’t turn out the way he hoped.

"This year, not long after he gave the honey and honeycombs to Father Peter, people started getting sick. Some apprentices burned the beehives, saying the bees brought the sickness here. They said my father’s bees flew to sick towns and towns where Jews lived.

"Later, they came back demanding honey. A mixture of honey and balsam flowers can treat coughs, and that sickness had left many people coughing without end. But Dad told them they were the ones who had burned the honey. So they threatened to kill him, but in the end, they only beat him.

"But he wasn’t badly hurt. And he still had some left."

The girl raised a clay pot, unsealed it, and dipped a finger inside. Her fair finger was coated in the thick, yellow liquid.

Then she stood on her tiptoes and stuck her finger right at Eric’s mouth. It caught Eric completely by surprise. She didn’t actually push it in, but instead smeared the sticky honey all over his lips.

Eric licked his lips. It was sweet, but with a slight sourness.

Then Eric saw the long-haired man hurrying over, forgetting he was still holding a shovel. He walked up to the girl and opened his mouth, as if waiting for communion. The girl stared at him, stunned for a moment.

"Please, please, I beg you. I love honey. I’ve done so much work," the long-haired man pleaded.

The girl looked at Eric.

Eric drew his sword, dipped the tip into the honey pot, and lifted out a little. He held it to the long-haired man’s mouth and tilted the blade, letting a string of amber liquid flow slowly inside.

The long-haired man made a happy noise, swallowing it with a wide grin that smeared honey all over his beard.

But, although he opened his mouth again in eager anticipation, a second drop never came.

Eric tapped him on the head with the flat of his sword. "Don’t push your luck. A taste is all you get. Back to work."

The long-haired man pouted, a little disgruntled, and went back to digging the grave.

Then Eric noticed a group of knights had gathered around the girl, their eyes fixed on the honey pot in her hands. Then they looked at Eric expectantly, seeking his approval.

"Sir, sir... we... honey..."

"Why are you looking at me? I’m not the master of the honey. This is a relic her father left for her," Eric stressed.

"Honey will spoil if it isn’t eaten," the girl murmured, then handed the pot to the nearest knight.

"Make sure everyone gets a taste, okay?" the girl stressed, holding up a finger.

That was what her father always told Father Peter.

The knight holding the pot nodded and, with a group of knights, rushed toward the others who were still resting in the rear.

Just then, the long-haired man finished his work. He dragged the girl’s father’s body into the grave, then gestured to Eric and the girl, asking if he should start filling it in.

She walked over and placed a small blackthorn Cross in the corpse’s hand.

"It fell out," she explained simply.

Then, she kissed the bloated corpse’s cheek.

"Goodbye, Father," she said. "Mama will take care of you now, and this Priest will take care of me."

"Are you ready?" the long-haired man asked.

She nodded. He gave the board a hard yank, and ’Father’ tumbled into the hole, falling apart like rotten fruit.

Evidently, ’Father’ had been gone for a long time.

The girl didn’t watch the body fall, but she watched the expression on the long-haired man’s face as he did.

"It’s all right," she said. "That isn’t him anymore."

Then she looked at Eric.

"The body decays, but the soul ascends to Heaven to gain eternal life. Right, Priest?"

"Yes. He will have eternal life. There’s no reason he shouldn’t." Eric patted the girl’s head, trying to comfort her.

"Eternal life, brother."

The long-haired man sighed, coughed a few times into his kerchief, and was about to take it off when Eric gestured to him.

"Oh, go on then. Let me have a rest." The long-haired man let out a sigh of relief and handed the shovel to Eric.

Eric quickly filled in the grave, then tossed the shovel aside.

"All right, let’s get going. We need to find shelter before dark."

Eric took the girl’s hand and pulled her up onto his horse.

The long-haired man, Yak, ran a few steps and hopped onto the cart pulled by the packhorse.

The clip-clop of hooves echoed as familiar scenery receded behind them. The girl looked back at the unmarked mound of the grave until she could no longer see it.

"By the way, what’s your name?"

"My father called me Jeanne."

"Jeanne? Let me guess, is your surname Dalbak?"

"Only the nobility have surnames. If Father had become a nobleman, perhaps I would have one too."

...

「Mann, Fougeres Castle」

Fougeres Castle was not a particularly important fortress, but it had been described as impregnable. Neighboring barons visited, then left with stolen details of its design.

The castle had been commissioned twelve years prior by the arrogant and domineering Duke William. It was built as a strong bulwark against Brittany and as a reward for a distinguished man of Mann—a Hero of half-Breton blood, Baron Alan De Raine.

Though rain and wind-blown seeds had not yet left their mark on its exterior, the interior was already stained with smoke, the floors worn smooth, and the doors either shut with telling ease or were warped by the passage of time.

It symbolized that the castle had been without its master for many years. Mann had been impoverished by long years of war, and there was only one way to earn a greater reward: follow one’s lord to the battlefield to win riches. Some Mann Knights, loyal to Duke William, had won great wealth and honor in England.

And the honor-laden Lord Alan, that powerful Knight, had departed four years ago for Iberia to fight the heretics, defend the holy Church, and glorify God’s sacred name.

The lady of the castle was the beautiful Lady Eleanor, heiress of Loire Castle in Mann.

She was currently in the castle, teaching a maidservant to read. The girl, Ejiva, had spent an hour struggling through a page of poetry—very bad poetry, but in clear Latin. As she mumbled her way through it syllable by syllable, Eleanor paced about the room on the second floor.

This room, known as the ’solar,’ took up the entire floor and served as the living quarters for Baron Alan and Lady Eleanor.

Eleanor would occasionally stop to correct the girl’s pronunciation, then resume her pacing. She would walk around the fire, rest for a moment on one of the square stools, prompt an uncertain Ejiva, and glance out the only large window.

This had become her daily ritual. She searched for her husband in a view that had remained unchanged for four years.

The unglazed window faced south, so she could see the town and the forking road, as well as the knights who were now dispersing across the shabby lawn, chatting idly about something.

With the Baron away for so long, these knights had nothing to do all day.

This was especially true since they were household knights.

"Do you think the Baron is still alive?"

"Hard to say. Not a single letter in all these years."

"What could be more glorious than expanding the dominion of the Lord of Heaven? Even if one dies for it."

"That may be so, but if he doesn’t come back soon, this castle will be as good as gone. We might be driven out. We certainly gave Elijah a hard time before, and now he’s the one in power."

"They have no reason to spare Fougeres Castle. There’s a Baron’s title attached to it, and the lady is the heiress of Loire Castle. That fellow Elijah won’t let this place go. His cousin was just appointed Count of Mann by Prince Rufus.

"But they’re outsiders. They have no castle and no land, just an empty title. So there’s no way they’ll pass up the Baron’s domain."

"Yeah, how many times has that guy come by this week? It’s only been seven days, and he’s been here at least four times."

"A petty man enjoying his moment of power."

"We need to be sharp on the night shifts these next few days. If he tries to use force, we’ll need to get the lady away."

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