This is a really fine balancing act and it is not easy. I certainly have plenty of issues with this. How can I give enough information on people, places, and events without putting the reader to sleep. On the other hand how can I keep the reader interested without giving them all of the details.
In my opinion you are trying to put together a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle and leaving out 200 pieces. Anyone looking at the jigsaw will know what the picture is, but they will use their imagination to put the missing pieces in. I try and use words and phrases that are familiar to most people to cut down on wordy descriptions. For example, most people have an idea what a medieval village looks like. Even if they are a bit off the mark most people picture a dirty grassy area with a miller, a blacksmith, a farmer, and some sort of fortified structure nearby. By using these stereotypes to your advantage you don't necessarily have to spend 2-3 pages describing the village in detail. Instead you can get into why your character is in the village and describe the more important items. A full example would be:
The King's men arrived at Fordham Town, a small medieval village just north of Bristol. They soon identified the miller's house from the line of people with bags of grain and the unmistakable sound of stone teeth grinding together as the mill produced its precious flour. However, there would be no more bread today as the King's men pushed through the peasants and prepared to arrest the miller.
On some occasions you will have to go into lots of detail. If you and a handful of scholars are the only people that know about the period or item you are talking about, it is unavoidable. When I have situations like this I try and go back to elementary school English. Instead of writing paragraphs that have longer structured sentences, I try and break it up by throwing in the occasional choppy part. For example, the King's men returned to Bristol with the miller shackled in irons. He was led slowly through the castle, passed the old stone kitchen, and down the stairs to the dungeon. It was cold and dank. The large wooden door slammed behind them creating an eerie darkness as the air brushed against the candle flames. The other prisoners looked on with anguished faces as the miller was marched to his cell. The revolt had failed.
As usual just my two cents on tricks that help me when I am writing.
No prizes for guessing the photo: New York City from the Liberty Island Ferry
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