When Pierre walked onto the podium, his head was still spinning.
"Let's congratulate Mr. Pierre for becoming the champion of this knight tournament!" The host raised Pierre's hand high, the victory's yellow plume fluttering in the wind.
Just moments ago, when the battle reached its final stages, Pierre found himself facing the last opponent. He realized that he might indeed become the tournament's champion.
With agile maneuvers and sharp swordsmanship, he defeated his opponent and emerged as the champion.
Throughout the tournament, he had captured at least ten people, in addition to those he had knocked down but not officially taken as captives.
All the spectators cheered for Pierre, this unknown young man who had made a stunning debut by winning the tournament. His victory became the talk of the town.
In the years to come, the people of Lancaster would sing of his story, the young man who won the championship in his first appearance.
After receiving his rewards, Pierre prepared to leave and see what he could gain from his captives. But before he could go, a large hand grabbed him.
"Pierre, His Highness the Prince wants to see you," said a knight clad in the Plantagenet family's surcoat. "Come with me now."
"Right now?" Pierre asked.
The knight ignored him and started walking towards John's direction. Pierre cursed under his breath and followed.
They passed through the crowd and ascended to the best viewing area, where John was seated.
Pierre's hands trembled slightly; he felt his luck might be too good to be true. The knight whispered something to John, who then directed his gaze towards Pierre.
"You are Pierre, right?" John asked kindly.
Pierre nodded. "Yes, Your Highness, Pierre de Blackpool."
"From Blackpool, I see. It's a small town now, isn't it?" John said. "I've never seen you before. How old are you?"
"Eighteen, Your Highness," Pierre replied.
At that moment, John felt a surge of emotion. He reflected that he was also around eighteen in this world, yet he felt so much older.
Feeling a bit helpless, he picked up his goblet and took a small sip.
Perhaps John was just reflecting, but this action stirred a storm of thoughts in Pierre's mind.
Could it be that His Highness doesn't like me?
John asked, "Can you tell me about your family?"
Pierre's heart skipped a beat, and he replied, "My great-grandfather was a knight from Normandy. After our family was enfeoffed here, we've always been knights in this region."
A rather unremarkable background.
"Your background is too plain. It doesn't seem to match your martial prowess," John commented.
"What enabled me to win is the education and training I've received, not my background, Your Highness," Pierre retorted. "My grandfather and father provided me with enough education, which gave me excellent combat skills and considerable battle experience."
These words earned the approval of the knights present, who looked at Pierre with nods of agreement.
"Would you be willing to join the royal guard and become a warrior for the crown?" John asked. "I need excellent warriors to serve me, and you are a perfect fit."
Hearing John's offer, Pierre immediately agreed without a second thought, "I am willing."
Serving the royal family is a dream for many knights. For a small knight like Pierre, being captured and paying a ransom could bankrupt him.
Knights like Pierre carefully protect their assets, similar to how the middle class in later times constantly guard against downward mobility. Most of their wealth consists of land and the weapons and armor they carry.
Becoming a royal guard means they no longer have to worry about their weapons and armor, as these would all be provided by the crown.
"Very well, Pierre," John said with a satisfied smile.
Guillaume, who stood beside John, handed over a sword. John took the sword and approached Pierre, presenting it to the young knight.
Pierre, understanding the gravity of the moment, respectfully accepted the sword from John's hand.
Although the ceremony was simple, it symbolized a change in power. John handing the sword to Pierre was effectively a proclamation of authority.
After receiving Pierre's pledge of loyalty, John nodded in satisfaction. Apart from him, John still had many knights to meet, all of whom could potentially become future royal guards. John needed to carefully select each one.
...
"How does John have such an army?" Robert Jr. pondered, perplexed. Whether from intelligence reports or his own deductions, he couldn't fathom John having many capable men. Yet now, a group of foreign mercenaries, their origin unknown, blocked his advance.
Moreover, these mercenaries were unusually loyal; Robert Jr. attempted to bribe them, only to be swiftly rebuffed. A direct assault was impractical; Robert Jr.'s mercenaries lacked the ability to storm fortifications. Forcing them into such a brutal siege would likely lead to mutiny.
"Now's not the time to dwell on this, Robert. We need to find a way to deal with the garrison at Rochdale," said David, Earl of Northampton. "If we can't assault directly, we might need to go around."
That plan was nothing short of a pipe dream.
"If we go around, we expose our rear, putting us in an even more dangerous situation," Robert Jr. replied.
"Is our rear safe as it is now, Robert?" William, Earl of Derby, suddenly interjected with an unkind tone, chilling the atmosphere in the command tent. Everyone present could hear the accusation in his voice.
"You assured me initially that the plan had no issues. What's the situation now?" William shrugged in exasperation.
Robert Jr. found himself in an embarrassing situation, while David attempted to soothe the tension. "It's just a minor setback, William. There's no need for this..."
William refused to accept any excuses: "Robert is just a fraud. He claimed to have a powerful army, ingenious plans, and countless reinforcements. But now, he has nothing."
"Do you want to say that again?" Robert Jr.'s face showed signs of indignation.
"Say it again? Sure, Robert, you orphaned bastard," William cursed, rising from his seat with agitation. "You're nothing but a fraud, an orphan, a son of a bitch. Got that?"
Robert Jr. remained silent until William approached him, poking his forehead.
Suddenly, Robert Jr. leaped up, forcefully knocking William down, then drew his longsword and pointed it directly at William, now on the ground.
"If you dare say that again, I'll kill you," Robert Jr.'s eyes were filled with cold determination.
Threatened with his life, William closed his mouth and raised his hands. The knights loyal to Robert Jr. approached and escorted the once lofty Earl of Derby away.
Meanwhile, Robert Jr. resumed his seat as if nothing had happened. He sheathed his sword, brushed off the dust from his clothes, then lifted his head to scan the room, as if taking everyone into account.
"Does anyone else have any objections?"
No one answered.