Chapter 12 Lancaster

"Hmm..."

John looked at the small town of Lancaster, feeling a hint of desolation in his heart. Northern England was indeed poor, but he never imagined it to be this destitute.

The walls of Lancaster looked dilapidated, with a Syrian refugee vibe, and the muddy roads emitted the stench of livestock feces, making it difficult for John to bear.

The ancient Lancaster Castle resembled a living fossil, its walls covered in green moss.

Although it was a royal domain, John found it hard to fathom. He almost had to hold his nose to stay in this castle, ordering the servants to clean it up.

Unlike other cities with long histories, Lancaster was a relatively new city. It was first recorded by the English royal family in 1086. However, the population was estimated to be only around two thousand, barely qualifying as a city.

Despite its short history, Lancaster had witnessed many generations.

After the servants cleaned the interior of the castle, John felt it could barely accommodate people.

John occupied the top floor of the castle and even indulged in using another room as his private library, where he had William stay to guard his diary.

After settling in, John felt very hungry. The last time he had eaten a decent hot meal was in Manchester. It's worth mentioning that the delicious food was prepared by merchants from Flanders and Italy.

The food made by these foreigners was much better than what the English made.

"Your Highness—"

A knight rushed over to John in a fluster, then knelt down on one knee, doffing his hat and bowing, his movements swift and seamless.

"It's an honor to meet you, please forgive my impudence. My name is Edward, Edward FitzRobert, the sheriff of Lancaster."

What a strange name.

John was momentarily struck by the demeanor of the people of Northern England. Edward was a name used by Anglo-Saxons, and FitzRobert indicated that he was the son of someone named Robert.

However, the name Robert was typically used by French speakers. This meant that the man's father was a conqueror from France, but he adopted a name that only conquered Anglo-Saxons would use.

"Well, Edward FitzRobert, a fine name," John said with a vague politeness, "Since you are the sheriff of Lancaster County, do you know what the current situation is in Lancaster County?"

John thought it was a simple question, but he seemed to have stumped Edward.

"Edward?" John asked tentatively.

Soon, John noticed cold sweat breaking out on the sheriff's forehead.

"The situation in Lancaster County is... very good. There's no harassment by bandits, nor any enemy invasions. Everything is normal," Edward managed to say after spending half a day.

It was difficult for John to feel reassured by Edward's vague response. He quickly followed up, "Then, how many knights are there in all of Lancaster County, and what is their service status? Also, what about the tax situation in Lancaster? I need to know all of this. Can you give me an answer?"

"Well..." Edward wiped the sweat from his forehead, "I need some time to go and check."

When you ask someone whether something is true or not, as long as they don't answer "yes," it's equivalent to "no." Edward's ambiguous attitude left John feeling overwhelmed. It seemed he would have to tidy up the accounts himself.

Anyone would be in a bad mood when treated this way. John's unhappiness was written all over his face, making Edward even more nervous.

Edward tried to struggle a bit, starting to say, "Your Highness, if you could just give me a little time..."

"Get out," John interrupted bluntly, issuing an order for him to leave.

As John watched Edward leave his room, he felt powerless for the first time. In the powerful southern regions of England, authority permeated everywhere, with bureaucrats diligently carrying out their duties and nobles being cautious.

In contrast, the northern regions of England were far from the center of royal authority. Even with a strong ruler like Henry II, control over these areas was notably lacking, and they were left to fend for themselves.

This was why inept professionals like Edward existed.

Considering this, John's first step should be to reorganize the entire Lancaster area. If he faced difficulties on the front lines and returned to find these parasites feasting on the rear, he feared he might collapse from high blood pressure on the spot.

"Roches!" John shouted loudly, summoning young Roches.

Since returning to Oxford last time, young Roches had been following John closely as his attendant.

Little Roches scurried over to John, "Your Highness, did you need something?"

John rubbed his temples wearily, "Go to Manchester. Remember those Italian merchants who provided us with food before? Bring them here and tell them I need to recruit five skilled merchants who are literate, good at writing, and arithmetic."

Upon hearing John's command, Roches hesitated. He was about to ask a question when he saw John's slightly irritated gaze.

"I'll go now," he said hastily, realizing it was best not to linger in the room. Everyone knew that staying in the room at this time meant asking for trouble.

As Roches left the room, he noticed Isabella preparing to head towards John's room. Well, though it was unlikely, Roches thought, the prince probably wouldn't explode in anger at his fiancée.

But then again, who knew the prince's temper?

Inside the room, John, annoyed, was about to see who was so oblivious as to open the door again, when he saw his fiancée, the petite Isabella.

"Why are you here again?" John softened his tone and pinched Isabella's cheek.

Isabella didn't resist John's behavior anymore. Pouting, she handed a letter to John, as if prompting him to read it.

John released Isabella's hand, opened the envelope, and examined the contents. The seal on the envelope bore the family crest of the Earl of Bedford, but since the Earl himself was with John, the sender could only be his wife, Isabella's sister.

"This is a letter from your sister, did you know?" John mumbled to himself as Isabella stood quietly by, not interrupting John's reading.

After perusing it, John roughly understood the gist of the letter: The Countess of Bedford believed that as long as they paid the ransom, they could release the Earl of Bedford.

John sighed and returned the letter to Isabella, saying, "Your sister barely mentioned anything about you in the letter. She kept talking about her husband... that Richard who never stops complaining."

Isabella responded with a simple "Oh," and didn't say anything else.

A short while later, feeling bored with the castle, Isabella slipped out and went off to play somewhere, leaving John behind.

Meanwhile, John, accompanied by several knights, made his way to the town hall and walked in directly. As he entered the town hall, a tall, robust man bowed to John.

"Your Highness," the man's voice was deep and powerful, "I am Roger, the magistrate of Lancaster Castle."

Next to Roger, a priest also greeted John and introduced himself, "It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I am Guy from the Preston Abbey."

John nodded in approval. At least these two seemed much more serious than Edward.

He found a chair and sat down, then said to Roger, "You are the magistrate of Lancaster Castle. Do you have a more detailed understanding of the situation in Lancaster?"

At this, Roger's eyebrows seemed to raise slightly. "Of course, I know everything there is to know, depending on what exactly you would like to know," Roger's tone carried a hint of shrewdness. "I also know many secrets of Lancaster that nobody else would know."