Chapter 45: Postwar Serenity

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors upon the church floor.

Roberto rose slowly, carefully donning his polished armor that shimmered with a silver gleam in the morning light. He draped over his shoulders the cloak bearing his family crest, gently tracing the emblem with his fingers, his eyes reflecting a steadfast resolve to protect.

He listened quietly to the hymns echoing throughout the church, the melodious chants weaving ancient tales and sacred missions, as if blessing the knightly path he was about to embark upon.

After the investiture ceremony concluded, Roberto knelt once more before the altar. His heartbeat quickened, breath growing slightly uneven, a mingling of nervousness and excitement stirring within him.

The congregation gathered in hushed reverence, their gazes fixed upon the young man about to be knighted.

Countess Joan of Boulogne, the ceremony’s officiant, approached gracefully, holding the consecrated sword. With solemn dignity, she addressed him:

“Brave young warrior, you stand at the threshold of knighthood. Here, you must swear your oath: to remain loyal to God, to defend justice, to protect the weak, and to honor the Church. Do you accept this charge?”

Roberto took a deep breath, lifted his gaze with unwavering determination, and declared aloud:

“I do!”

Rising to his feet, his eyes burning with fervor, he solemnly vowed:

“I, Roberto Corsini, upon my honor and soul, swear loyalty to God and reverence for His will. In battle, I shall be fearless and unyielding, wielding my sword to uphold justice and champion the innocent. I shall respect the Church and abide by its doctrines, showing mercy and offering aid to the vulnerable. I pledge fealty to my lord, serving to the utmost of my ability, preserving his dignity and honor. No matter the hardships or trials I face, I will steadfastly uphold the chivalric code, fulfilling my duty until my last breath!”

With the oath complete, Countess Joan lightly tapped the flat of her sword upon his back, her eyes filled with both expectation and admonition:

“Never forget your vow, Sir Roberto Corsini. May you hold fast to your faith on the road ahead and become a true hero.”

She then handed him the sword with a slow, deliberate motion.

“By the authority vested in me as Countess Joan of Boulogne, I hereby confer upon you the title of knight and grant you the precious estate of Hes Village. From this moment forward, this land is entrusted to your care. It shall be the foundation of your endeavors, a symbol of your honor, and a weighty responsibility upon your shoulders.”

Roberto grasped the sword’s hilt with both hands, his arms trembling slightly. As he stood, his eyes sparkled with excitement. Applause erupted around him, resounding through the church like thunder, a chorus of blessings and reverence for the newly minted knight.

Carlo stepped forward, his face alight with joy and pride, gripping Roberto’s shoulders firmly:

“Ha! Roberto, you’re a knight at last! I’m almost envious! From now on, you’ve got to watch my back!”

Resarite approached, his gaze brimming with admiration and encouragement:

“Roberto, your oath was resolute and powerful. It revealed your determination and courage. The path of a knight is long and arduous, but I believe you possess the strength and wisdom to overcome every challenge.”

Then, with a playful yet sincere smile and a wink, he added:

“Hes Village was my suggestion to Countess Joan. It’s close to my own Sul Village and boasts nearly a thousand acres with over a hundred inhabitants—a fertile estate indeed. That’s actually the equivalent of three knightly fiefs. Countess Joan is even more generous than I imagined.”

Lucas Griffith’s eyes shone with envy as he congratulated:

“Sir Roberto, congratulations!”

Silently, he vowed to himself:

“I will have my own estate one day. I will.”

Charles joined in with a cheerful grin:

“Sir Roberto, you look incredibly handsome today!”

Yet in his heart, he mused:

“Hah, I hear the villages in Boulogne are quite wealthy. This is my chance to make a name for myself! I will surely achieve great things here!”

The church buzzed with warm energy, voices and blessings intertwining. Roberto felt the weight of their expectations and trust settling upon him, filling his heart with gratitude and resolve. From this day forth, he would tread the path of knighthood that belonged to him alone.

Still basking in the glow of his investiture, Sir Roberto’s pride and exhilaration were palpable.

***

At that moment, a solemn clerk clad in black robes hurried in, flanked by two attendants. They carefully carried a massive, leather-bound ledger, its cover adorned with ornate metalwork.

With respect, the clerk bowed to Roberto and said:

“Sir Roberto, please follow me to register your knighthood.”

Roberto nodded slightly. They proceeded to a long table at the side of the church, where the attendants gently placed the ledger and stepped aside.

The clerk opened the book, releasing the musty scent of aged parchment mingled with fresh ink. The pages were densely filled with the names and details of knights past, their handwriting varying from neat to bold, all steeped in historical weight.

Taking up a fine quill, the clerk dipped it into a pot of black ink, then looked to Roberto:

“Sir, please state your full name, family lineage, and the name of the lord who has granted you your fief.”

Clearing his throat, Roberto responded with steady, clear voice:

“I am Roberto Corsini, from a family long settled in Florence. By the grace of Countess Joan of Champagne of Boulogne, I have been granted the fief of Hes Village and thus knighted.”

The clerk transcribed the details fluidly, the quill gliding over the vellum, leaving elegant lines of script.

Once the entry was complete, the clerk retrieved a heated metal seal from a nearby box, embossed with the kingdom’s emblem. Pressing it gently into the ink pad, he then stamped the page firmly, leaving a crimson mark—an eternal seal of Sir Roberto’s honor within the annals of history.

Smiling, the clerk addressed Roberto:

“From this moment forth, your name shall be forever inscribed in the roll of knights. May you continue to forge brilliance on your future journey.”

Roberto bowed again in thanks and turned to leave.

In this era, the title of knight did not entirely overlap with that of feudal lordship.

Strictly speaking, nobles who held land as property—ranging from kings and dukes down to barons and knights—were all considered lords.

At the same time, there existed wealthy individuals who owned large tracts of land but lacked noble titles—known as gentry or landowners.

Knighthood could be regarded as a form of nobility, yet it was not entirely synonymous with traditional aristocratic status.

Knights often enjoyed many noble privileges and social standing, but their titles were not hereditary in the purest sense. While descendants of knights found it easier to be knighted, it was never guaranteed.

Knighthood chiefly embodied military function and honorable conduct.

Undoubtedly, medieval Europeans placed great value on knights. Many high-ranking nobles, upon receiving elevated titles, would seek out figures of greater nobility or legendary renown to knight them, pursuing the unique sense of ceremony and honor this conferred. Such practices were common throughout history.

For instance, Louis II de Bourbon, Prince of Condé, after receiving his princely title, repeatedly petitioned King Louis XIII of France to knight him. Similarly, Thomas Howard, upon inheriting the dukedom of Norfolk, requested knighthood from Henry VII.

The conferral of knighthood held both rigor and flexibility.

Strictly, candidates were generally required to be at least twenty-one years old, the age deemed suitable for the requisite capabilities and faith.

Flexibly, not only feudal monarchs but also senior knights within knightly orders held the authority to knight others.

Moreover, knights might or might not receive land grants. Even royal knights appointed by monarchs often lacked estates.

Roberto’s grant of land by Countess Joan was thus an exceptionally generous and surprising reward.

Soon after the ceremony, Resarite boldly offered to give Roberto 500 Tourlivers—a sum equivalent to 3,000 florins before any depreciation.

This was a remarkably generous fund for developing the new estate.

***

It must be understood that in medieval Europe, economic conditions varied greatly by region.

Florence was among the wealthiest cities in the world, where an ordinary laborer might earn thirty florins a year. A respectable small merchant’s annual income hovered around a thousand florins.

In England, where over half the population remained serfs, a prosperous free farmer earning five florins annually was considered well-off.

Boulogne lay within the prosperous Flanders region of France, a vital port city where common citizens earning ten florins yearly were regarded as relatively affluent.

Knightly lords, however, were not as wealthy as one might imagine.

Knights with prosperous estates might draw annual incomes between 200 and 500 gold coins, while most ordinary knights earned only a few dozen gold coins per year.

A fine warhorse could cost over a hundred gold coins; an average steed, a dozen or so. Armor and weapons varied in price from a few to hundreds of gold coins depending on quality.

Knights also bore expenses for squires, servants, and family, so their lives were far from lavish.

Assembling a full suit of proper equipment could take years or even decades. The 500 gold coins offered to Roberto was a substantial fortune.

Roberto felt a pang of guilt, regretting:

“Lord Resarite is so generous, yet I secretly kept thirty gold coins for myself.”

He quickly waved his hand:

“My lord Resarite, this money is your spoils of war and reward from our lord. How could I possibly accept it? Though I yearn to develop the new estate, I must not lightly accept such a heavy gift.”

Resarite laughed heartily:

“If you refuse, then I’ll give it to Carlo. You and Carlo have forged a deep bond of camaraderie with me in this campaign. This money was earned thanks to both of you. You were once my squire; now you are a true knight. How could you not accept funds to build your estate?”

Roberto hesitated briefly, then resolved:

“If you insist, my lord, I will accept. I promise not to squander it. Every coin will be wisely spent for the prosperity of the new lands.”

Carlo, finally relieved from the tension of war, brightened visibly at Roberto’s words, a playful smirk curving his lips:

“Since you both refuse so much, just give the money to me! I’ve never eaten a proper meal since coming to France. I hear Boulogne is a city of fine food, and I plan to feast! I’ve nearly forgotten what good food tastes like. This time, I’ll eat my fill—roast suckling pig, the freshest oysters. I’ll drink the finest wines, every expensive bottle, to make up for the hardships I’ve endured. I’ll eat until I’m a big, fat man!”

Lucas Griffith rolled his eyes, silently scolding:

“1000 Tourlivers! What do you plan to eat? Won’t you burst? You only think about eating and never consider how much more important things could be done with the money. Pathetic, always just indulging yourself.”

He frowned, looking at Carlo with disdain.

Charles, however, cheered happily:

“A big feast! I love feasts! Today is a great day—new knights and a grand meal to celebrate! I’m going to eat so much delicious food and fill my belly.”

He rubbed his stomach, eyes shining with excitement.

Resarite laughed:

“Hahaha, come with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted the food of my homeland. Let me, a local, show you the specialties of Boulogne!”

The group burst into laughter, as if breaking free from the shadow of war, eager to embrace the joys of life.

Their laughter echoed through the church, heralding a new beginning.