Chapter 6: Enfeoffment

"Roches, look, these are my sons," said Henry II, rubbing his forehead, the bloodshot eyes indicating his poor condition over the past two days. Nightly revelries took their toll on anyone, let alone a middle-aged man of fifty.

The letter was handed to Roches, a knight from the banks of the Loire. He read it carefully and then silently put it down.

"Young Henry, Geoffrey, Richard—not one of these guys gives me peace of mind," Henry II said with a tone filled with both anger and disappointment.

"I know people say John won't amount to much, Roches, I know. But isn't he showing some promise now? Single-handedly driving off those bandits shows he has some skill."

Henry rambled on, "John says the Earl of Bedford and Richard have colluded to kill him. Sure, I could imprison the Earl of Bedford for life, but what about Richard?"

Outside the castle, clouds rolled in, thick and heavy, seeming to envelop the castle. The sunlight was hidden above the clouds, and the gray-white sky matched Henry II's chaotic and cold mood.

"You could place Richard in Anjou," Roches suggested cautiously, "or relocate Prince John to a safe place."

Hearing Roches' suggestion, Henry II nodded slightly.

He was very pleased with this knight—no wonder he hailed from Henry's own homeland; his competence was evident.

"Roches, prepare for the journey with your son and go to young John," Henry II directed, as composed as ever. "Deliver a message for me: tell him to secure the second daughter of the Earl of Gloucester. Also, tell him not to cause any trouble locally. After the Earl's funeral, return to Oxford to discuss state affairs with me."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Roches nodded heavily, looking as though he was committing every word Henry II said to memory.

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After the battle, the citizens of Gloucester celebrated with songs and dances.

John took this opportunity to take some wine from the Earl of Gloucester's storehouse to entertain the knights. Many minor nobles from the Gloucester territory also came to congratulate John.

Amid the clinking of glasses, John enjoyed the praises from these rustic nobles.

Being uneducated minor nobles, they repeated phrases like "Your Highness is invincible" over and over. John thought they did well enough to come up with these words, given their French was tinged with a strange accent.

Indeed, this was an interesting point.

At this time, the nobility of the Kingdom of England still primarily communicated in French. After all, the majority of the nobility were descendants of French conquerors. John's father, Henry II, before becoming king, was a pure Frenchman, the Count of Anjou.

There wasn't much ceremony at the banquet, partly because the complex and ornate noble etiquette had not yet developed in this era, and partly because John didn't like it. He just wanted to enjoy a hearty meal. The roasted meats, various dishes, and citrus fruits from Sicily were all John's targets.

The nobles were quite perceptive. When they realized that John's focus was on eating, they discreetly stepped aside, observing the young prince as he devoured his food. After being watched for a while, John finally noticed the large group of people waiting for him. He nonchalantly glanced around at the knights and nobles, nodded inexplicably, and then picked up the cloth at hand to wipe his mouth.

"Ahem, everyone."

John placed his hands on the table seriously. His upright posture made it hard to imagine his ravenous behavior moments ago.

"I, John, son of Henry Plantagenet, Prince of the Kingdom of England, thank all the knights for their hard fighting. It is because of the brave battles of the knights that we can now enjoy this feast."

After speaking, John was the first to raise his glass and downed the wine in it.

After drinking, he burped without any decorum and continued, "Of course, for the warriors, just having these food and drinks is definitely not enough. I know that the efforts and struggles of the knights are all for a fief…"

When John mentioned the word "fief," everyone's hearts skipped a beat.

What did a fief mean? In the Middle Ages, land was the only wealth. Owning a fief meant gaining wealth, gaining power, and gaining social status.

Countless younger sons of nobles and retainers fought fiercely for a fief, hoping to leave a legacy for their descendants.

"Here, I have decided to grant a few retainers with exceptional merits a piece of land that belongs to them." As John spoke, he took a small box from under the table. The box contained land deeds taken from the library.

"First, Red-Nose Hugo…"

John called forth today's first protagonist, a younger son of a knight from Normandy. He looked quite excited because, at the age of thirty, he had not yet acquired a fief of his own. But today, he would become a knight with his own fief.

In modern terms, this is equivalent to transitioning from an ordinary worker to a very small shareholder with a tiny amount of equity. For John, this is a very minor gesture, but for these workers, this small gift is enough to completely change their lives.

"In the presence of God, I grant you the land southwest of Westbury Manor and bestow upon you the title of knight." John handed the land deed for that parcel of land to Red-Nose Hugo.

Red-Nose Hugo was so excited that his body trembled, and he knelt before John, barely able to hold the land deed in his hands.

"May you always remember the knight's oath, remember your duty to the king, and remember your piety to God. Lord, this world's splendor will eventually fade away."

After saying this brief statement, John drew his longsword from his waist and tapped Hugo's shoulders on both sides.

"You are now a knight, Hugo de Nehej."

With that, John picked up another land deed. He glanced at the young retainer beside him and smiled slightly. The retainer instantly understood John's meaning and, mimicking Hugo's actions, knelt before John.

"Robert de Yerville, knight from Normandy, I grant you the land of Cliff Hill, and your cousin Tancred. I hope you two will work together to eradicate the bandits there."

After receiving the land deed from John, Robert also underwent the ceremony, along with Tancred.

After enfeoffing only three people, John stopped and looked at the others.

"Everyone, today I only enfeoff these three because their contributions are the greatest. I hope that when you are on the battlefield, you can learn from them. In this way, you too can receive rewards from the kingdom, even a fief."

After saying this, John closed the box and put it back under the table.

The other retainers sighed in relief but did not complain much. This battle was indeed not difficult for them. John's willingness to enfeoff and reward was a statement in itself.

To the knights who had followed John for years, this was a transformation in John. Their previously stingy lord was now genuinely willing to spend generously. The old knights exchanged glances, their expressions seemingly saying one thing:

"We've finally made it."

"Let the feast continue."

John casually remarked, "Let the feast continue," and resumed eating. The nobles, meanwhile, now had plenty to discuss thanks to the enfeoffment ceremony. Hugo, Robert, and Tancred became the center of attention, with many people even promoting their daughters on the spot.

John took it all in. People in the Middle Ages were no different; they craved wealth and power just the same.

After thoroughly satisfying his hunger, John patted his stomach and left the banquet hall. He had no taste for such socializing, finding nothing of interest in mingling with a bunch of country bumpkins.

Accompanied by two knights, John walked through the castle corridors, his footsteps echoing sharply. The stone floor was cold and hard, lacking any warmth. But it was this very coldness that brought a sense of security. John's thoughts drifted to Oxford.

He wondered what his father, the famously temperamental and powerful Henry II, was doing.

Through the narrow slit of a window, John could see only darkness, the sky a silent void. The noise of the banquet downstairs was loud and boisterous, but there seemed to be a hint of crying hidden within it.

"Guillaume, do you hear that?" John tapped the shoulder of the old knight behind him. "Someone's crying upstairs. Go check it out for me."

The old knight nodded and quickly ran upstairs. In no time, he hurried back down before John had even reached his room.

"What's going on?" John asked, curious.

Leaning against the wall, Guillaume took a couple of breaths and then, with a sorrowful tone, explained what he had seen.

"Prince, the Earl of Gloucester is dead!"