The Youngest Prince Of The English Royalty House [EN]: Chapter 79

The Death of the Knight King

—1188, Brittany, English Territory—

In any case, the Crusades ended in a resounding victory for the Christians. Of course, everyone knew this intellectually, but the feeling wasn’t truly widespread.

Participation in the Crusades was limited to a select few, and most people were preoccupied with their daily lives in mainland Europe. In other words, they didn’t directly participate in the grand ‘war,’ so the victory felt somewhat distant and abstract.

But as time passed, with the reconstruction of the Polish kingdom, the suppression of the Scottish rebellion, and the marriage of Sibylla and Richard, the valuable spoils were distributed, and the ‘Crusades’ gamble finally paid off.

The people of various European countries began to truly feel the victory of the Crusades and started to boast.

‘We won because I played a part!’

‘We won because of our ruler!’

‘We won because our army was strong!’

Typical Europe. Look at them, all claiming to be the best!

The same was true for Great England, a rising power that was currently boosting its reputation.

As the days went by, the English, with their noses held high, boasted that this holy war was due to England’s strength, often referencing the story of Samuel in the Bible.

‘The Kingdom of Israel, led by the righteous David, defeated the wicked Philistines.’

Of course, they compared David, the conquering monarch of Israel, to their own monarch, Henry II. Moreover, with King John’s cry of ‘Long live Henry II!’ becoming popular, a wave of English nationalism spread, emphasizing the English monarch’s great ‘stamina’ and rumored 10,000 bastards.

When they heard the news that the youngest prince, John, had publicly humiliated Philip II with a single song, the nationalism exploded!

Like the ancestors of the Misery Country [a self-deprecating term for a nation known for its hardships], they understood Prince John’s intentions.

‘As the Prince said, the Kingdom of France is not yet dead! Isn’t he the best in Eastern France?’

‘Ah, France is great, just like Prince John said!’

‘But isn’t Philip II’s France our cute little Petite France Kingdom [a derogatory term implying France is small and insignificant]?’

As the English felt this surge of nationalism, young King Henry went to Geoffrey’s territory.

To entertain his brother, Geoffrey prepared the highlight of the day: a bittersweet red wine made from fresh grapes grown in his territory of Brittany-Nantes.

“It smells fragrant.”

“I worked hard to prepare this wine for you, brother.”

“Thank you.”

Henry, having checked the color of the wine, appreciating Geoffrey’s sincerity by lightly swirling it, slowly savored the drink. Judging by the acidity and aroma, it seemed to be of the highest quality.

A single glass of wine wouldn’t get you drunk, but it was perfect for easing into a conversation.

The first topic that young Henry brought up was their accomplished father.

“Father seems to be getting more cunning day by day…”

Henry, sharing the same name as his father but possessing a less developed sense of political acumen, is Henry II’s son.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Young King Henry wasn’t exactly praising his father, Henry II.

It was more like giving a backhanded compliment, ‘He plays the game perfectly,’ implying a certain ruthlessness.

Safe John, who was reincarnated, only remembers Henry II as a failed monarch in his declining years, suffering from filial impiety [disrespect from his children], but to those living in that era, he was a cunning old man.

The unprecedented uprising, ‘The Great Rebellion,’ staged by his children and wife to overthrow him, gave Henry II a great shock but also an awakening.

He pondered many ways to solidify his power and throne. Unlike the original history, thanks to the youngest John not being a troublemaker, he achieved more than he originally should have.

“Our accomplished father has started to keep us in check lately. So this poor brother is having a hard time these days. It’s all because of… John.”

“I didn’t know John was so cunning.”

“Brother, the real viper wasn’t me, but John. I really despise him in many ways. I feel like I want to poison him.”

Geoffrey spoke with a hint of ‘assassination’ in his voice when mentioning the youngest John.

‘Have you ever seen a child humiliate Philip II like that?’

[I love Philip’s France~ The sun rises behind the Louvre~ The great French King Philip II reigns]

He probably calculated their reactions when he publicly humiliated Philip II with strange melodies in front of many people.

“But we can’t do that.”

“It’s a shame. If it were the time of the Heptarchy (the era when the Anglo-Saxons established seven kingdoms in the British Isles in the 5th century) or even the past when Father started a civil war, assassination would have been possible.”

Of course, no matter how threatening John was, they wouldn’t ‘assassinate’ him. In the Middle Ages, assassination was truly crossing the line.

Assassination is such an extreme act that it’s a gamble that can’t be used unless a life-or-death situation arises!

If you commit such an act in this era, the person in question will lose the support of the nobles, who are the foundation of power. If the relationship with the nobles, who are the actual power brokers in this European political arena, is damaged, it’s easy to fall from grace.

Of course, it’s not impossible to send John to the River Jordan [euphemism for death] without anyone noticing. However, since the dynamic of John, Richard vs. Henry, Geoffrey has already been established, it’s best not to attempt it because there are too many eyes watching.

So Geoffrey’s words mean ‘just saying,’ a venting of frustration.

“What’s really dangerous is John’s people.”

“Bastards… and the youngest sons. They were initially seen as easy to manipulate, but now we have to change our minds.”

Henry and Geoffrey already thought that the scariest thing about the youngest John, who only knew how to be spoiled by his father, was the ‘threatening’ group of bastards and younger sons who formed the new support base he had created.

But they weren’t the only ones who were threatening.

John also had his own ‘youngest’ sons.

Whether they were the youngest sons of a prestigious noble family or the youngest of a lowly merchant family, people who knew the sorrows of being the youngest and were drawn to Prince John’s vision that the youngest could be important if they had the ability, flocked to him, forming the upper and lower branches of the youngest sons’ club.

At first, the youngest sons came into John’s camp half voluntarily and half involuntarily.

Before they knew it, they were enriching John’s territory and risking their lives to protect it. It was because they had a lot to gain; John’s territory was the only place that recognized them.

And they easily blocked all the subtle attacks that young King Henry and Geoffrey had launched against Prince John’s territory. It was surprisingly effective.

“I didn’t expect it. I didn’t expect that the youngest sons, who weren’t from prestigious bastard families or noble families, would silently block our schemes. Is it really necessary to do that much for John, who had nothing to do with them?”

“Brother, Ireland is Canaan [a promised land] to them. So they helped Prince John as if it were their own business.”

“Hmm… is that so?”

Canaan, the land of milk and honey that God had designated in the Bible.

Young King Henry didn’t really understand his brother Geoffrey’s analogy.

“Brother, we have to change now. Talent is being wasted.”

“Are you saying we should improve the treatment of the youngest sons who can’t expect inheritance?”

The nobles’ preconceived notion that the youngest sons were just pitiful beings who wasted their lives as ‘clergy’ had inadvertently helped John rise.

So Geoffrey thought that things had to change now.

“We must appease the youngest sons who have inherited nothing in various ways.”

After that, Geoffrey seriously told his brother Henry the measures he had devised with his vassals.

“I know what you’re saying. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Soon, young King Henry, who had taken another sip of the now-cooled wine, mentioned another topic to his brother.

“By the way, is Baldwin seriously ill?”

“The funeral mass will probably be held in a few days.”

“He was a foolish man who chose Richard in the end, but it’s a pity. A hero king is leaving like this.”

With those words, the young king expressed his regret and immediately got down to business.

“This is the information about John that our vassals have investigated. Use it well.”

“This is the report of the mercenaries and knights I have prepared. I hope you use it well.”

The brothers born from the same father and mother were important customers to each other.

* * *

—English Normandy—

I left Ireland not as the Grand Duke of Ireland, but as the head of the ‘condolence delegation,’ and crossed the sea.

Soon after, I arrived at the castle of the Lord of Normandy.

“Welcome.”

Richard, the human weapon, was waiting for me at the castle gate.

‘That body is really unfair.’

I heard that he had cut down 50 percent of Saladin’s warriors in the Middle East with a greatsword.

I think that’s probably true.

But today, rather than the brave appearance befitting that physique, he had a bitter expression, so I think I understand Richard’s feelings for Baldwin.

Of course, Baldwin and Richard are now related by marriage, but I knew that they had already had a close relationship before that. But I guess the friendship between the two men is deeper than I thought.

The fact that there was no news of the funeral mass as I came here means that Baldwin has not yet died.

As I was organizing my thoughts, Richard said.

“Go there.”

He gestured towards a place with good facilities, though it was temporarily constructed. It was the annex that Duchess Sibylla provided for her beloved younger brother.

As I went inside.

“Duke Baldwin, Prince John requests admission.”

“Let him in.”

With that voice coming from inside.

I was able to enter the annex not long after.

“It’s been a while, Duke Baldwin.”

“Prince John, you have granted my request. Welcome.”

Baldwin, who got up from his seat, was not wearing an iron mask. As a result, the hideous face of a leper was revealed.

Of course, it’s a face that can cause disgust in many ways for ordinary people, but to me, who had already experienced the ‘end of the world’ in my previous life, this was not terrible.

Baldwin said, noticing my calm expression.

“Isn’t my appearance hideous?”

“I am not as foolish as Job’s friends.”

In this case, it’s right not to lie, but to say the right thing.

To interpret my words:

Unlike the friends who mocked the righteous Job, who was afflicted with all kinds of epidemics and became hideous due to Satan’s test in the Book of Job, I will not judge people by their outward appearance.

“Yes, that’s right… Ugh.”

He slightly raised the corners of his mouth, but even that caused him pain, so he returned to an indifferent expression.

“I have something to say to you.”

“What is it?”

“John, everything has changed because of your existence. Bishop Pio II not being assassinated, the Crusades gloriously winning, and me finding a reason to live a little longer… So I ask. Are you a messenger sent by God?”

Honestly, I don’t know.

Could I, who was reincarnated with the memories of my previous life, be a messenger sent by God?

Of course, to the medieval European mindset, there is a very small possibility that I, who expelled Islamic forces from the Middle East as a result, am a messenger of God, but my answer was extremely realistic.

“How could that be?”

“Yes, that’s right… Then John, I have one last thing to say.”

“Yes, tell me.”

“It’s not good to have too many listening ears.”

He put on an iron mask for a moment when he made contact.

“John… come closer.”

He came closer to me and said.

“…That’s all. Can you listen to it?”

“It’s not a difficult word.”

Then Baldwin looked at the armor with the cross of Jerusalem drawn on it and said.

“John, traditionally, entrusting the task of putting on armor is entrusted to the most trusted person.”

“Isn’t there Richard?”

“Duke Richard has yielded this honor to you. So put on the armor for me who is going to a new battlefield.”

I put on Baldwin’s armor, drawing on my experience of helping my father, Henry II, with his armor in the past.

Because I guessed why he was asking me to put on his armor.

The battlefield that Baldwin is talking about now is not the battlefield of ‘this world.’

Leather armor, outer armor, chain mail, helmet. And even combat boots.

Baldwin, who wore all the protective gear with my help, said.

“John, thanks to you… now I have become a knight of Jesus Christ who will achieve the millennial kingdom.”

Baldwin, leaving such meaningful words, looked at the silver cross placed on the opposite table and said.

“I have drunk all the bitter cup that the Lord has given me.”

I don’t know if God heard that prayer, but Baldwin’s ordeal ended a few seconds later.

* * *

The sky of Normandy was very clear, as if representing the peaceful Europe for a while.

But our hearts were not so good.

Just now, the funeral mass of the man who was Baldwin IV was over.

As the former monarch of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, its solemnity and scale were extraordinary.

Those who had foreseen the death of Baldwin IV and had come before me, his vassals and those who knew his nobility, all gathered.

They showed respect to the deceased, who was already crossing the River Jordan.

They were the knights of the Crusades who had not been defiled, and those who had protected Baldwin, who loved the Kingdom of Jerusalem, justice, and nobility, and the knights who respected and loved their lord Baldwin, who was now slowly crossing the River Jordan, more than anyone else.

One of those knights, Balian, Baldwin’s most trusted vassal during his lifetime, was kneeling and barely holding back his tears.

“….”

Although the period of friendship with Baldwin was not long, Richard, who had relied on each other in various ways on the brutal battlefield, was also barely holding back his grief.

Sibylla, Baldwin’s sister, couldn’t hold back her sobs.

“Sob, Baldwin… This sister was wrong. Why… why are you leaving me behind?”

Amid Sibylla’s sobbing.

[Richard may seem strong on the outside, but he is weaker than anyone else. As Safe John, make Richard and my sister safe.]

Baldwin’s last request seemed to echo again in the wind.