Episode 25
The feudal system of the Middle Ages is a rather intricate affair.
Commonly, people think of it as the king bestowing lands upon his vassals, but the reality is quite different.
In fact, it was often the other way around.
Those who originally controlled the land would pledge their loyalty to someone more powerful, and in return, the monarch would formally grant them the right to govern that land.
Unlike the bureaucratic systems of the East during a similar period, Europe lacked a developed administrative structure. To put it bluntly, it was a complete mess.
The system was established haphazardly, without any real framework, making the early Middle Ages a time of utter chaos.
By the late 12th century, where I find myself now, things had settled into a more organized state, which was a relief.
Had it been a hundred years earlier, even if I had been granted a county, the rights to hold court, collect taxes, and conscript labor would have been so fragmented that it would have driven me mad.
Even now, these rights could be bought and sold, but since they had become institutionalized, it was easier to get a handle on the situation.
However, this was only true for typical fiefdoms.
In larger territories like the County of Auvergne, it was often unclear whether it was just a domain or an independent political entity.
The term “county” was used, but in reality, a county in this era was more akin to a basic administrative district.
Even contemporaries of the time often found it confusing.
I was no exception, and I spent the first week as the Count of Auvergne trying to get a grasp on the state of the land.
The administrative system was so fragmented that even after a week of poring over documents, it was no easy task.
Perhaps it’s because I remember living in a world with modern administration.
The more I looked, the more absurd and infuriating the system seemed.
I felt guilty for ever complaining about the inefficiency of modern public offices; the administration of my county was a complete disaster.
For instance, in the medieval feudal society, taxes weren’t collected in the strict sense.
Instead, the tithe from churches on the lord’s private land was used like a tax, and serfs were mobilized to obtain necessary goods.
In a way, this could be considered a form of taxation, but there were no strict regulations.
In the early Middle Ages, with a lack of a monetary economy, things somehow worked out.
But as the late Middle Ages approached and the monetary economy developed, things became increasingly complex.
Even in my own domain, the winds of change were evident.
“Sigh… It’s all so overwhelming, I don’t even know where to start.”
In games, all the information is neatly organized and my decisions are immediately reflected, making sweeping reforms easy.
But reality is far less forgiving.
It didn’t seem entirely impossible, but to overhaul everything, I’d need to plan in five-year increments at the very least.
As I continued wrestling with the documents, my father, William, entered the study and spoke to me.
“Still buried in the affairs of the land?”
“Oh? You’re here already?”
“Already? You missed mealtime, so I came to check on you.”
Looking outside, I saw that the sun was already casting long shadows, just as William had said.
It reminded me of the times I stayed up all night running simulations.
My brain was overworked, and suddenly, I was starving.
Even the bland meals would taste good right now.
“Come to think of it, I should probably improve the meals too, not just the administration. There’s so much to do.”
I closed the documents detailing the state of the land and stood up.
“You’re right, Father. It’s late. Let’s continue after dinner.”
“Yes, take it easy. I know some who became lords after a lifetime on the battlefield, and they say they were more at ease in war. Some even left everything to others.”
“That won’t lead to progress. I want to make this place more prosperous.”
“Indeed, those who have received divine guidance are different. It’s a bit surreal for me, since you’re my son.”
William chuckled awkwardly as he took a seat.
Having left Henry II’s side, William was now staying at my estate, lending a hand.
His presence alone, as a knight known throughout the Angevin Empire, was a great help in running the estate, and I was grateful for it.
Richard, desperate for talent, even went so far as to find a marriage partner for William to recruit him.
Beyond these practical reasons, I found comfort in talking with William, perhaps due to the instincts or memories ingrained in this body.
“By the way, I haven’t seen Sir Alberic around. Didn’t he come with you to the estate?”
“He’s at the court, discussing the succession of the Count of Dammartin with His Majesty.”
“The Count of Dammartin…?”
The Count of Dammartin, who had sided with Henry II but tried to return to France when the tide turned, was announced to have died in an accident.
Richard likely knew the full story, but it was clear to anyone that it wasn’t just an accident.
William seemed to have a rough idea but didn’t show any discomfort.
Instead, he turned his attention to the serfs who were tasting our food first.
“Do we really have to do this every time we eat? I’m getting hungry.”
“I want to eat too, but we can’t ignore His Majesty’s concern. Honestly, it makes me a bit nervous.”
“True… there was an assassination attempt, after all.”
Since the attempted assassination at the court, my personal security had been significantly tightened.
Guards accompanied me everywhere, and every meal was pre-tasted for poison.
The delay meant the food often went cold, making it even less appetizing.
I wondered if we really had to go through this every time we ate, but what choice did I have?
“Until the mastermind is revealed, we’ll have to live like this.”
“So you don’t think the late king was the culprit either.”
“It could be, or it might not be. He might have been uninvolved, the mastermind, or an accomplice, but nothing is certain yet, so we must be cautious.”
“In my memory, the late king was not in his right mind. But that was more of a state of helpless madness. It’s hard to believe he orchestrated a meticulous assassination plan.”
William took a sip of wine that had been confirmed poison-free.
I took a bite of the now-cold meat.
“For now, we’ll have to live with this inconvenience. If you suspect anyone, please let me know immediately.”
“Of course. If I find such a person, I’ll be the first to take their head.”
Knowing William, he might actually do it. I shook my head with a wry smile at his resolute stance.
“No… we can’t just execute them. We need to uncover the mastermind.”
Though I said this, the chances of the assassin being caught by William were slim.
They were meticulous enough to commit suicide if capture seemed imminent.
Such people wouldn’t be easily exposed by someone as straightforward and principled as William.
And having failed once, they’d likely put considerable effort into their next attempt.
There’s only one way to lure out such individuals.
I would have to take some risks myself.
Even after that, my security measures remained stringent.
In fact, they became even more impenetrable, obvious to anyone who saw them.
The guard detail sent by Richard surrounded the estate with an airtight defense, and the food was checked for poison three times.
Anyone wishing to meet me had to undergo a thorough body search by the guards, making it impossible to bring weapons.
It was a level of security that rivaled that of a king, but given my religious background and the assassination attempt, everyone complied without complaint.
I wondered what the real assassin might be feeling if they were still out there.
There were two possibilities.
First, they might be growing anxious, unable to find an opportunity.
Second, they might have decided to wait and see how long this level of security could be maintained.
Whatever the case, if they still intended to assassinate me, they’d be watching closely for any opening.
So what if I deliberately left a small gap?
I intentionally left a slight loophole in the body searches for weapons.
Normally, even the soles of shoes were checked, but after Sunday Mass, the inspections were reduced.
The reason was that so many people came for the blessing that it was impossible to check everyone thoroughly in time.
The guards couldn’t stand armed inside the sacred chapel, so they kept watch from the perimeter.
If they were going to strike, this would be the time.
Despite setting such a meticulous trap, nothing happened for nearly a month.
Had I overreacted?
Was it possible that Henry II was indeed the mastermind, and with his fall, the assassination attempts had ceased?
Just as I was about to let my guard down, on a seemingly ordinary Sabbath day…
After Mass, as usual, I watched the guards inspect those who wanted a blessing, feeling relaxed.
Soon, those who passed the inspection approached me with bright smiles.
“Prophet, thank you so much for coming all this way to bless us personally today!”
“Ever since I started following your advice to keep myself clean, I’ve noticed I don’t get sick as often.”
“I’ll always remember your words that an impure body invites impure ailments.”
The serfs of the Angju Empire treat my words almost like scripture. In an era where most people can’t even read the Bible, except for the church bishops, they rely heavily on what I say.
“Remember, if you follow the teachings I share, your lives will improve significantly.”
“Yes! Yes!”
Even if I haven’t caught the assassin’s trail, if I can gradually change the misguided beliefs of this era, my time here won’t be wasted.
Maintaining a professional smile, I turned my attention to a young brother and sister approaching me.
“So, what kind of prayer do you seek?”
The older brother, speaking fluent French, began, “We have recently converted to Christianity in search of the true word of God. We came up from the southern Iberian Peninsula, but my sister seems to be struggling with the climate here and has fallen ill. If you could save her with your prayers, we would be eternally grateful.”
“Oh… converts from Islam, are you?”
Though we live as sworn enemies, it’s not unheard of for Christians to convert to Islam or vice versa. In regions like the Iberian Peninsula or the Middle East, where the two faiths meet, such cases are quite common.
The most frequent reason for conversion is survival, often when captured in war. The next most common reason is financial, changing to the dominant religion of the area for better opportunities.
Judging by their attire, which was quite luxurious, I suspected they fell into the latter category. Their boldness made them less suspicious to others. Perhaps they even bribed the guards for this prayer session.
“Welcome back to the Lord’s embrace. I will gladly pray for your sister.”
As the brother stepped back, I approached the sister, who kept her head bowed. But then, something caught my eye.
[Fanatic]
“Didn’t they say they converted to Christianity?”
While some might fake conversion for business reasons, a truly devout Muslim would never do so.
As these thoughts raced through my mind, my body moved instinctively. Almost simultaneously, something sliced through the air where my throat had been moments before.
“She hid a weapon in her shoe, and it was the sister, not the brother, who made the move. Clever.”
The month-long gap between attempts was commendable. I almost let my guard down, thinking such a young girl couldn’t be an assassin.
But no matter how meticulous the plan, once discovered, the assassination attempt fails. I stopped the soldiers rushing over, fearing the siblings might take their own lives like the last time.
“Stay back. I can handle this.”
I gestured to the assassins, who exchanged quick glances, inviting them to make their move.
“Surely you didn’t stake everything on such a feeble ambush? If I’ve hit a nerve, just end it. If I were in your shoes, I’d be too ashamed to live. If not, come at me. I’ll give you another chance.”
This time, I won’t mess up. I’ll capture them alive and find out which lunatic is behind this.