Chapter 63: Chapter 517: Robert of Belem
"So, how did you and Sesil meet? Seeing you two standing together just now gave me a start."
"It’s a long story. I’ll tell you the details when we have more time. In short, I was shipwrecked and blown off course. God be praised, I eventually reached Normandy and happened to land at Caen.
I was in a rather terrible state, so I had to seek shelter at a nearby monastery. It turned out to be a convent, and they were very reluctant to take us in. That’s why I presented your insignia. I never expected to find a princess in a monastery."
"Is that so? When Mother was pregnant with William, she had a very difficult labor. The old man prayed to God, vowing that if she delivered the child safely, he would dedicate the next one to God. And so, the old man sent Sesil to the monastery when she was just a little girl.
That old man must have been delighted when he saw Sesil was a girl. It meant he had a legitimate excuse to avoid paying a dowry. He’s just that selfish."
Robert’s voice grew heavy with resentment.
"That’s why Sesil’s personality is a bit... odd. You know what monasteries are like. She’s been there since she was a child. My God, she’s a princess, and now she can only be a Nun. That’s why I do my best to be good to her.
If anything... untoward happens, I hope you won’t hold it against her."
"I see."
Eric sighed. He sympathized with her.
Suddenly, a knock echoed through the room.
"What is it? Did we run out of wine? Or is there not enough lamb to shut them up?!" Robert yelled impatiently.
"Your Grace, Robert Belem, eldest son of Roger of Montgomery, the Earl of Shrewsbury, requests an audience."
"Enter."
The door then opened.
A young man about Robert’s age entered. What caught Eric’s eye was the man’s flamboyant long hair, which cascaded smoothly down to his shoulders.
However, the left side of his face was wrapped in bandages, which bulged high over a wound, giving him a rather comical appearance.
’If this were a different era, I’d really want to ask him what shampoo he uses.’
"Noble and great Robert, I have come from England to pledge my loyalty to you."
Robert Belem flicked his long hair, then knelt on one knee before Robert.
"There’s no need for such ceremony. I’m already glad enough that you’ve come." Robert helped Belem to his feet.
"Your cause is undeniably just. That unrighteous King has long incurred the wrath of both God and men. Not only I, but my brothers as well, eagerly await your command. Anyone who refuses you is surely a treacherous villain. May God grant them eternal damnation."
"And what of my kinsman, Roger? What are his intentions?"
"The old man’s gone senile. He probably thinks swimming against the tide makes him look wise and loyal. He just loves to be contrary. He adores being the King’s sole mouthpiece, even though he’s nothing but a slave in King William’s eyes.
Once we take London City, we’ll shut those chattering, self-righteous old fools up for good."
Belem made no effort to hide the contempt he felt for his father.
As he spoke, his gaze quickly fell upon Eric, who was writing at a desk.
"And this is...?"
"I forgot to introduce you. This is Eric Outville, a legendary hero of Normandy and son of Robert, the great Conqueror of Italy. He is now my advisor."
Robert gestured toward Eric.
"The great fame of Giscard resounds throughout Europe. I am honored to meet you, Father Eric." Belem’s tone was surprisingly courteous.
"May God bless you, Lord Belem."
Eric stood and gave Belem a slight bow as a sign of respect.
"Is that a charter?"
Belem had noticed the Latin script on the parchment in Eric’s hand.
"I wonder which nobleman has been so fortunate as to receive Duke Robert’s favor."
"It is not for any single individual, but for collectives—issued to cities, castles, monasteries, and bishoprics," Robert replied at the opportune moment.
"What? For those wretched commoners? Robert, forgive my outburst. I am not normally so ill-mannered, but you have no idea what I’ve been through. Those damned peasants, they actually dared to steal my warhorse! You cannot give them a single scrap of favor. They are all heartless, ungrateful beasts!"
"These past two years have been hard on Normandy, all because of that old man. How did you end up handling it?"
"I had them cut down, of course. And this happened on my own land! It’s outrageous! Are those peasants trying to rebel? Their arrogance should have been put down long ago! Give those lowlifes an inch, and they’ll take a mile.
Those peasants even had the audacity to threaten to leave for another lord’s lands. I was furious. They treat me like some common whore, to be visited and left as they please! I give them land so they can survive, and this is how they repay me—with humiliation!"
"Er... you’ve had a long journey. You should get some rest, Belem. And of course, feel free to enjoy the banquet in the main hall."
Robert gritted his teeth, then patted Belem on the shoulder.
"It’s not that I’m tired, it’s that I’m still furious with those peasants! What did I ever do to them? Getting dragged off my own horse... Do they have any idea who I am?"
Robert put an arm around him and guided him toward the door. Belem kept complaining incessantly, resisting being pushed out.
The door closed, but just as Robert was breathing a sigh of relief, it swung open again.
"My brother from the Outville family, I eagerly await the day you’ll tell me the epic tale of your father..."
Belem called out, not forgetting about Eric.
"I told you to go rest!"
Robert gave him a hard shove.
As the door shut once more, the room fell quiet again. Robert and Eric both let out a sigh of relief.
"That fellow Belem has something wrong in his head. But setting aside his moral failings, he is at least very reliable when it comes to loyalty."
"Robert, you don’t seem to have much control over them," Eric said, continuing to write with his quill.
"It’s not that bad. It’s just that there are some people whose opinions I can’t afford to ignore," Robert said with a shrug.
"In peacetime, that might not matter. We can afford to be more tolerant and give them more of a voice. But to lose control on the battlefield would be a disaster. We can’t grant them all these privileges and still be unable to command them.
I was thinking, perhaps we can put a bit of pressure on them. Offer a carrot, but also show them the stick. That way, we might gain the upper hand at the Third Estate Meeting and have to concede fewer privileges. After all, you need to raise money, don’t you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I have a proposal we can put forward at the Third Estate Meeting. We can reduce the number of uncontrollable Knights we call to service, summoning only a portion of those we can rely on. The Knights who are not summoned will pay scutage to support those who are. You could even collect a little extra and use the surplus to hire Mercenaries, or for other purposes."
As he spoke, Eric stood up and handed the parchment to Robert.
"The documents for the Third Estate Meeting are drafted. Put your seal on them. Use this meeting to pit the townsfolk against the Nobility. Let them both become a source of your Power.
The scutage proposal can be brought up at the meeting. If they are unwilling to provide funds directly, they may be more amenable to the idea of scutage. War fanatics aren’t always in the majority. When you have an army independent of the Nobility, you’ll be able to speak with more authority."
