A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

Not long after the city gates were opened, the members of the Black Rose Corps realized they had no hope of defending the city.

Eric seized the opportunity and had Sforza go persuade them. Eric promised to hire the Black Rose Corps, guaranteeing that all its surviving members and their property would be under his protection. The only price was to replace their Grand Commander, with Sforza taking over the role.

Upon hearing this news, Sforza, despite his limp, rushed eagerly toward the barricade where the Black Rose Corps was stationed.

In that moment, he felt that getting stabbed a few times hadn’t been for nothing after all.

While they were still hesitating, Eric added that their salaries were negotiable.

The Grand Commander, hiding behind the barricade, scoffed at Eric’s proposal. He stood up and shouted, "Foolish noble! Do you think you can buy everything with Money! I’m telling you, Mercenaries have dignity too! A dignity that can’t be trampled on!

It’s because of your arrogance that we’ve all gathered here! And I’m telling you, we’re still fighting not for Money, but to teach you nobles a lesson! To show you..." The Grand Commander didn’t get to finish before he was struck hard on the head and fell into a sleep as peaceful as a baby’s.

Soon, they pushed their former Grand Commander out.

"We surrender! We surrender! My lord, we are at your service!"

The battle was over. The city was now completely under Eric’s control.

By this point, Eric controlled most of the cities on the border between the Milan Marquisate and Tuscany.

In a few days, he would station his army at the Alps Pass; all that remained was to wait for the Emperor to cross the Alps.

He needed to keep the Emperor as weak as possible before he reached Canossa.

However, on the third day, just as Eric was preparing to lead a portion of his army to the pass, he received a message from Matilda.

Matilda had returned to Canossa from Genoa.

She had received word that the Emperor had chosen to travel through the Bavarian Duchy and enter Northern Italy via a pass in Tuscany. He had now reached the Brescia Border Zone in Tuscany.

However, he had not attacked the local garrisons. In fact, the Emperor’s retinue of guards and servants numbered less than a thousand—the size of a mere touring party.

Matilda had even received a letter from the Emperor, its tone earnest and humble, in which he explained his entry into Tuscany and declared he had no intention of waging war.

Eric didn’t believe the Emperor was incapable of gathering a sufficient army; the Counts in the south and west of the Empire still supported him.

Eric suspected the Emperor had likely received news from Northern Italy.

Lanfranchi, who had originally planned to swear fealty to the Emperor, had now sided with Eric. Half of the Milan Marquisate, especially the region near the Alps Pass, was now under Eric’s control.

His two most powerful allies in Northern Italy were now gone.

Furthermore, the Dukes of the Empire were likely still putting pressure on him.

That was likely why he had abandoned his plan to use an army to intimidate the Pope.

In any case, he had to return to Tuscany now.

...

「Canossa Castle. The Chapel.」

Matilda was kneeling before the Holy Image, reciting her evening prayers.

The scent of ripe barley from the fields drifted into the chapel. Since the castle was built on the edge of the city rather than its center, it was easy to see the fields, now a pale gold under the light of the full moon.

It was mid-August, and the night was hot. Her chemise clung to her skin, and she was grateful for the faint breeze and the feel of cool flagstones beneath her bare feet. It grounded her, helping to ease her anxiety.

Moonlight streamed through the ten windows of the sanctuary, making the chapel’s frescoed walls blaze with vibrant color and the polished marble floor glitter like a sheet of glazed ice.

Matilda’s thoughts drifted to the farm girl who had blushed while presenting flowers to Eric last month. That memory was followed by another: Eric’s nervous, nonsensical ramblings in her room that day, a clumsy attempt to cover his tracks.

’Kings and great nobles care nothing for the women loyal to them. He made no promises before he left. Perhaps the business in Genoa was just an excuse to get rid of me.’

’Wait. Maybe I should be worried about something more important. Like whether he’ll come back in one piece at all.’

Growing suddenly agitated, she dipped her fingers into the Holy Water font, made the sign of the cross with Devotion, and ended her evening prayers early.

She left the chapel and returned to her chambers, where she was attended to by her handmaidens, Collette and Joland, before bathing and going to bed.

Collette and Joland were her chamber-maids. In the absence of the master of the house, they typically slept in the same room as the mistress, so as to be able to respond quickly to her needs.

In the master’s absence, they would keep their mistress company at night.

Perhaps because of the exceptional heat, Matilda lay in bed for a long time before she gradually fell asleep.

The room was dark, with only a single night candle burning.

Collette was a deep sleeper, lying quietly on her pallet by the bed. But then Matilda’s peregrine falcon, FiDes, began to tap at the window with its sharp beak. Joland, meanwhile, fumbled for her robe in a sleepy daze and shuffled toward the door.

The knocking continued, louder now.

When Joland opened the door, Matilda recognized the voice asking for entry: it was her Scribe, Jordan.

’Why would Jordan wake me in the middle of the night, unless it was urgent news?’

Matilda grabbed for her robe—she had taken it off earlier because of the heat. "What is it?"

"My lady, it is your husband! The Marquis has returned," Joland said, her voice filled with excitement.

"By himself? Right now?" Matilda pressed.

"No, my lady, no! Jordan says he is here!" Joland opened the door wider and called out, "Jordan, tell her!"

"It’s true, my lady. The Marquis just rode into the courtyard." As if realizing something, Jordan raised her voice to a shout. "I saw him dismount with my own two eyes, my lady, I swear I did!"

"Is he wounded?"

"No, my lady. At least, not from what I could see."

Matilda breathed a sigh of relief.

By now, Collette was also awake and hastily pulling on her chemise. Joland shooed Jordan outside, and the maids began to get dressed.

Matilda, having put on her robe, was searching for her shoes on the floor when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Forgetting the shoes, she went to the door. It opened again, and a moment later, she was pulled into an embrace.

"You reek. You should bathe at once. Then you can think about getting something to eat." Matilda disliked public displays of affection. "Unless you need a physician first?"

"I need something else," he murmured, stroking her smooth arm and her long, cool fingers, before kissing the delicate, pale skin of her throat.

That was all, of course.

This made Matilda relax.

Matilda unbuckled his Sword belt, helped him out of his muddy boots, and settled him comfortably in bed to wait for food and a bath to be brought up. Leaning against the pillows, Eric told them about the war.

The handmaiden Joland had already dashed downstairs to fetch a bottle of spiced red wine, while Collette delivered hot bread and candied pastries from the kitchen to tide him over.

Eric lay in bed, munching on the bread.

Matilda stood just outside the door, where Collette and Joland reported that the rest of the food was on its way and the bathwater was being heated, to be brought up after he had eaten.

"Joland and I will sleep elsewhere tonight," Collette said with a smile. Without waiting for an invitation, she began to undo Matilda’s nighttime braids.

Collette knew a husband would want his wife’s hair to be loose during their intimacy.

She expertly combed Matilda’s hair until it felt like silk and looked like sable in the firelight. "How perfect it would be if you were to conceive a son tonight," she whispered.

This made Matilda blush; she disliked it when people spoke so openly about such matters.

However, when she glanced instinctively toward Eric, she saw that the man had fallen asleep at some point.

As Collette began to speak again, Matilda shook her head, signaling her to be quiet. Collette moved to Matilda’s side and whispered, "But the food..."

"No... let him sleep. God knows he’s earned a peaceful night’s rest." Matilda sat down gently on the bed, but Eric didn’t stir.

She motioned for Collette to hand her a blanket. She draped it gently over him, then slipped under the covers herself.

Collette extinguished all but one of the candles and quietly exited the room. But just before closing the door completely, she paused for a moment.

Through the crack in the door, she saw Matilda propped up on one elbow, gazing at her sleeping husband.

Collette had expected to see an indulgent smile on her mistress’s face, and she did. But as she continued to watch, that smile transformed into something different, something like a gentle caress—surprising and unexpected.

Finally, with a smile of her own, Collette closed the door.

...

Down in the great hall, the scene was chaotic. Eric’s Knights were exhausted and hungry but also filled with the joy of victory. They needed food, wine, and well-deserved praise, and the castle’s inhabitants were more than happy to provide it all.

For once, the cooks didn’t mind being roused from their beds to prepare a midnight feast.

Word spread that the Marchioness’s young husband had defeated the Milan Marquisate, seized vast territories, and brought glory to Tuscany.

People began to pour into the great hall, eager to share in the excitement. The celebration reached its peak when the Marquis of Milan was presented as a hostage. The Marquis protested, but no one paid him any mind, and a boisterous celebration soon got underway.