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Chapter 51 - Chapter 51: As a General, I Am Not Skilled with Words

Medieval nobles didn't indulge in a lot of miscellaneous pleasures. In John's view, aside from hunting, all other entertainment activities were quite dull. Moreover, hunting at this time was very rough, and doing it every day would certainly become tedious.

As for theater, it was still an emerging form of entertainment and had yet to make its mark on history.

However, theater was not lacking in skill nor in audience. The only issue was that the potential of this art form had not yet been discovered.

Coincidentally, Alina had a very good demeanor, and John thought it was worth a try.

Of course, an excellent play required an excellent script and an excellent troupe.

As someone with John's experience, writing the script was definitely not a problem. But for the troupe, John would need to go around gathering talent.

...

In a tavern in Dublin.

Hubert had just finished a day's performance. Dragging his tired body, he prepared to return to his small, shabby home. He had wandered from England to here, finally settling down, only to be extorted by local thugs, losing much of the money he had saved.

With no other option, he had to rely on his talent to barely make a living.

But after walking for a while, he realized that someone seemed to be following him.

His past experiences told Hubert not to look back and to hurry home. He wrapped his thin clothes tighter around himself and quickened his pace.

The person behind him did not give up but instead sped up and rushed toward Hubert.

Realizing something was wrong, Hubert started to run, but he stumbled and fell to the ground.

"Why are you running?" The person following him grabbed Hubert by the shoulder and helped him up. "I'm not here to harm you. Look at me, Hubert."

Hubert shook his head and focused his eyes, recognizing the person as the knight who frequently visited him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I thought it was those thugs extorting me again..."

The knight interrupted him, "Enough talk. Let me ask you, do you want to make money?"

Money? Of course, Hubert wanted it. He desperately needed it. But the question was, how would he make this money? Hubert didn't want to go to the battlefield; he didn't have the courage to fight, nor did he want to lose his life.

"Sir Hugo is now helping the prince find people. He wants to find some performers to serve in his court. Do you want to go?" the knight asked.

These words made Hubert's eyes light up.

The prince recruiting people was an enormous opportunity. Everyone knew how wealthy the royal family was, and if he could get a chance to dine with them, it would be life-changing.

Hubert felt he had no reason to pass up such a great opportunity. He had to seize it.

"I am willing to go, I am willing to go," Hubert agreed repeatedly. "Of course, I am willing to go for such a good thing. Will you take me there?"

The knight nodded, turned around, and motioned for Hubert to follow him. He led Hubert away from there and towards John's castle.

The same thing was happening in other parts of Dublin.

Tancred, from Clive, brought his companions to a rural tavern outside Dublin. They swaggered in and went straight to the bar where the owner was standing.

"Here for a drink again today, sir?" The tavern owner was wiping a glass. "What would you like to drink today?"

Tancred shook his finger, then motioned that he wanted to speak in private. The tavern owner put down what he was doing, leaned in, and listened attentively to what Tancred had to say.

When he finished listening, an incredibly excited expression appeared on his face.

"Is it really possible to have such an opportunity?" The tavern owner's voice was almost uncontrollable. "If that's the case, that would be wonderful."

"Yes, but I suggest you quickly send your daughter over. Also, since I brought you such good news, you understand what you should do, right?" Tancred winked.

The owner excitedly said, "Of course, sir, we just received a new batch of wine today."

Tancred smiled and snapped his fingers. Today, he could finally enjoy the pleasure of free food and drink.

In a more distant place, in Redstone Castle, Rolf was speaking to his sister Helena. "When you get to Dublin, you must show respect to the prince and do not refuse his requests, understood?"

Helena listened intently to her brother's instructions, keeping her head down.

"You must be more reserved there; the Normans do not like overly flamboyant women. If you can win the prince's favor, you might even become the Queen of England someday," Rolf said bluntly. Helena did not reject his words but nodded in agreement.

The world of the Norse was indeed harsh, where everything was spoken directly. Helena accepted this fate. Without relying on a powerful man, the possibility of facing humiliation in the future was greater.

"Go now, Helena," Rolf's eyes held a mix of anticipation and other calculated interests. Regardless, he was indeed sending his sister to John. His purpose was simple: to use his sister to strengthen his relationship with John.

As for the minor lord of Mies, who was initially betrothed to his sister... Rolf decided to notify Breton and have him lead troops to eliminate that minor lord.

John's small request stirred countless people across Ireland. They flocked from all over, seeking opportunities in John's court.

So, what was John doing now?

Little Roches was performing his guard duty beside John, occasionally glancing at what John was writing. It seemed his prince was now engrossed in writing various stories. During the day, he wrote stories, and at night, he mingled with the women of the brothel, which was quite unseemly.

However, Henry II was also that type of person. As the saying goes, the upper beam is not straight, and the lower beam is crooked. John turning out this way was entirely Henry II's responsibility, at least in Little Roches' opinion.

"Roches, when the time comes for you to watch this play, will you watch it?" John's question left Little Roches a bit hard-pressed to answer. He had seen plays before, mostly the farces performed by villagers or the comedies in Henry II's court. 

He had no good impressions of these plays.

But, even if he didn't have a good impression, Little Roches couldn't directly say this to John.

He racked his brain but couldn't come up with a suitable response. At that moment, Little Roches suddenly felt that his father was truly remarkable. Surviving under the king's various strange questions was indeed a great skill.

John looked up curiously and said, "Why aren't you speaking, Roches?"

Little Roches snapped back to reality and then lowered his head, saying, "I am but a soldier, not skilled with words."

Hearing this response, John's eyebrows twitched involuntarily.

"Alright, you may leave."