1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 155 Peasants' Crusade

Southern Apennine Peninsula, Sicily, Messina.

This Mediterranean port town has a very long history. It was first established by Greek colonists who came across the sea. It is an important hub between North Africa and the Apennines, and between the Eastern Mediterranean and the Western Mediterranean.

Later, the Eastern Roman Empire declined and lost control of southern Italy. The Two Sicilies fell into endless turmoil, and royal families from major European families fought for the crown.

With the instigation of Michael VIII, the first monarch of the Palaiologos dynasty of the Eastern Roman Empire, the Sicilian Vespers War broke out. The Anjou House from France was defeated by the Trastamara House from Aragon in several subsequent wars. King Afonso V of Aragon thus wore the crown of the Two Sicilies, and Spanish forces began to enter southern Italy.

Having said that, the defeated René I did not give up. He was still obsessed with his throne, waiting for the opportunity, and was always ready to return to southern Italy.

Afonso V loved the environment and climate of Naples very much. He moved the court of Aragon to Naples. With his generous and benevolent governance, he suppressed the conflicts between Roman Catholicism and Greek Orthodoxy, and between the Angevin nobles and the Trastamara nobles, and built Naples into a rare literary and artistic capital in southern Italy.

It is almost the end of the year, and the humid and mild winter has quietly arrived in the port of Messina. The drizzling winter rain takes away the heat and dryness of the summer, making the dry earth regain its vitality.

In the bustling dock area, workers shouted slogans as they moved goods, sailors sang ballads to attract the girls' attention, and guards held sharp blades, watching the slightest movement around them with a fierce look.

At the edge of the dock, a gray-robed priest walked down the deck of the sailboat with several guards and looked at the crowded crowd in surprise.

In the center of the square near the dock, a crowd gathered. A man who looked like an aristocrat stood on a high platform, holding up a tattered notice and speaking something to the onlookers.

"Alexander, here!"

In the crowd, a middle-aged man in luxurious clothes shouted loudly to the gray-robed priest. His fat hands were covered with rings, and the gems inlaid on the rings looked particularly dazzling under the sunlight.

The middle-aged man walked quickly towards the gray-robed priest and patted his shoulder enthusiastically, leaving a layer of perfume powder on his simple robe.

"Peter, long time no see, I..."

"There are too many people here. I have arranged a carriage for you. Go to my place first and we'll talk there."

Peter whispered, and with a grin pushed the gray priest into the gorgeous and ostentatious carriage.

The carriage traveled through the crowded roads of Messina, turning many turns and finally stopped in front of a mansion.

The guards and servants at the door bowed and saluted, and Peter shouted loudly, ordering them to entertain the distinguished guests who had come from afar.

Peter took the gray priest to his own dining room, and they sat down as host and guest. The servants brought the food and drinks to the table. The dazzling array of precious ingredients made the gray priest frown.

In the prosperous and luxurious Italy, he seemed so out of place.

After eating some fruit and drinking a few glasses of light wine, the gray priest hesitated for a moment and spoke again.

"Peter, you have read my letter and I believe you already know my intention."

Peter made a vague nod and continued working on the braised beef tenderloin on his plate.

"The alliance between Lord Hunyadi and Grand Duke Durand has broken down again. The Ottoman Sultan Mehmed has basically pacified the situation in southern Serbia and occupied the New Brdo gold and silver mines. He is using the gold he has mined to recruit troops and is marching northward."

"When I left, Grand Duke Durad had completely lost control of the nobles in the country and was bedridden. The local nobles had chosen sides, and the situation was extremely urgent!"

Peter nodded.

"The relationship between the Habsburgs and the Hunyadis has almost broken down, and the White Knight has hardly received any help from Hungary."

Still nodded.

"Bishop Capitlano is calling for a holy war, gathering a crusade, and he's sending me to Italy to recruit mercenaries and peasants willing to join the holy war."

Seeing that Peter remained indifferent, the gray-robed priest finally couldn't help it and raised his voice.

"If your third plate of barbecued meat is more urgent than the holy war in Serbia, go ahead."

Seeing that the gray priest had lost his patience, Peter had to reluctantly push the plate away, picked up the napkin to wipe his mouth, and ordered someone to clear the table and bring two cups of coffee.

"Oh, don't be impatient... Fighting for the Holy Father and filling my growling stomach don't conflict..."

Peter burped and smiled as he admired the gray priest's cold expression.

"By the way, Alexander, when did you get involved with the White Knight?"

"You know, he has always been lukewarm towards the Orthodox Church, has a bad temper, and is stingy to his subordinates. He is not a good master."

The gray priest snorted coldly.

"If you ask me, Emperor Isaac's biggest failure is that he trusted you too much, a bunch of flies who only care about their own interests."

"Oh, that's wrong."

Peter was not angry, but waggled his stubby fingers calmly.

"If it weren't for us, how would His Majesty support the endless wars and feed his vast army?"

"You mean the slave trade, turning living people into commodities?"

"I thought you would hate the Saracens even more after your homeland was occupied by the Ottoman Sultan."

Peter did not get angry. He knew exactly what he was doing and that such behavior would inevitably be criticized by many people, so he took it calmly.

"Okay, let's get back to the point."

The gray priest didn't want to go into the matter any further, so he frowned and waved his hand.

"Before this, Bishop Capitlano had written several letters to Emperor Isaac, asking him to send troops north to support Serbia's holy war, but he never received a definite answer."

"In addition to recruiting Crusaders, I came here mainly to know what attitude you and the Emperor of Constantinople behind you have towards this holy war?"

"Doesn't he really know that if Hunyadi falls and Mehmed II takes over all of Serbia, Constantinople will be the next city to be attacked!"

Peter was silent for a moment, then changed the subject.

"Did you see the scene in the square and on the pier when you came?"

"Yes, it is prosperous. The city regained its glory under the rule of Afonso V. So what?"

The gray priest felt like he was about to laugh out of anger.

Peter ignored him and continued talking to himself.

"The last time this city was so prosperous was more than two hundred years ago, during the height of the Crusades."

"At that time, hundreds of pilgrims, holy warriors, knights who had lost their land, and farmers gathered here every day, boarded large ships, and headed for the Holy Land of Jerusalem."

"They believe that all sins can be forgiven in Jerusalem and all complicated questions can be answered at the Holy Sepulchre."

"They believed that the massacre of the Saracens was not a killing, and that it was legitimate to rob them of their property and land."

"They believed that a country boy who was penniless in France could own a city in the Holy Land."

"I know that you have a noble faith and are ashamed to talk about interests. You hope to unite the people with pure faith and fight against the Ottoman army."

"But the fact is that the vast majority of people, including me and the emperor, are profit-driven creatures." Peter took out a document, the same one that was read out in the square.

"Not long ago, His Majesty issued several development orders in the new capital of Carthage, inviting landless knights and peasants from all over Europe to go to Africa. After declaring their loyalty to His Majesty, they could obtain land and serfs at low prices."

"In addition, His Majesty has called on mercenary organizations and slave-hunting groups to enter Africa, to open up land deep in the Atlas Mountains, and to capture slaves."

"Three-quarters of the land that is reclaimed will belong to the pioneers, and the captured slaves can also be sold to local administrative agencies nearby and sent directly to various farms."

"The emperor's three major chambers of commerce in the Mediterranean, the Monferrato Trading Company, the Cyrenaica United Chamber of Commerce, and the newly established Carthage Merchants Group, have all taken action to spread the development order to all parts of Europe through trade routes. The chambers of commerce will provide them with low-cost transportation."

Seeing the gray priest in a daze, Peter continued.

"Since the Two Sicilies are close to Carthage and there are still many Greek Orthodox Christians there, this area has become the focus of our work."

“The prosperity you see is not the work of Afonso V, but an illusion created by a group of profit-seeking creatures.”

"Some of them are simply ambitious and hope to make their own pockets fatter when the interests are reshuffled. Some are frustrated people who can't stay in crowded Italy and hope to start a new life."

After the conversation, neither side was in a hurry to speak. Peter sipped his coffee, waiting for the gray priest to digest the large amount of information one by one.

"So, after a year of prevarication, you plan to continue prevarication and turn a blind eye to the suffering of your fellow brothers in the Balkans?"

"That was not what I meant."

Peter sighed.

"I mean, you're in the wrong place."

"This place belongs to merchants, mercenaries and speculators. If you can offer enough benefits, you can attract a large number of reinforcements, but it is impossible to attract their greedy hearts with just an empty slogan."

"In Italy, even the high and mighty Pope in the Vatican had to borrow money from Venetian merchants to support his army, let alone you who have just arrived."

Peter looked at the gray hair on his old friend's temples and sighed.

The gray priest was named Alexander Petrov. He was born in the Kosovo Mountains in southern Serbia. His ancestors were all honest and devout farmers.

He showed extraordinary intelligence from a young age and was praised by local priests, who trained him to be their successor. He spread the gospel of Jesus Christ to farmers in the mountains and gradually became famous for his talents.

His birthplace was near the New Bourde gold and silver mines. When he was young, he witnessed the oppression and exploitation of the lower classes by the great nobles and mine owners, and he developed a serious rebellious mentality towards these vampires and the traditional church that aided and abetted them.

Later, Alexander came into contact with some Bogomil ideas and immediately took them as his guiding principles. He advocated reforming the church, confiscating church property and distributing it to civilians, opposing secular rulers and landlord bureaucrats, and hoping to establish a harmonious society where everyone is equal.

This idea was certainly unacceptable to most of the ruling class, but it was also supported by the common people. Alexander was affectionately called the "Gray Cardinal" by his followers because of his simple lifestyle.

At the same time, Peter left the Balkan mountains early and was one of the first Slavic immigrants to go to Surt. He gradually expanded his business with his business acumen and was even qualified to enter the courts of Carthage and Birinci. His son was also able to study with the prince.

Although they have different positions, Peter has always admired Alexander, a pure idealist.

A few months ago, the Ottoman Empire occupied his hometown in an unrivaled manner, and the gray cardinal must be very painful now.

“You should focus on the Balkans and Hungary, just like Bishop Capistrano did. The production methods there are more primitive and the farmers’ faith is more devout. If you unite them, you can also unleash a powerful force.”

"As for the professional mercenaries you've been looking forward to, I'm afraid it will be difficult... uh."

There was another silence, and Alexander slowly stood up, patted his gray clothes, and wiped off the powder left on his shoulders by Peter.

"I understand."

"Thank you for telling me all this, and thank you for helping me recognize myself."

The gray cardinal forced a smile and crossed himself.

"No matter what, I won't give up."

"Good luck to you, dear friend, reverend father."

The cardinal suddenly felt suffocated and rejected Peter's hug. He walked out of the magnificent house, faced the sunshine, and took a deep breath of fresh air.

"I will send someone to take you back to the port. The march of an army is not an easy task, and the White Knight Hunyadi is not a simple man either. You still have time."

Peter chased out and stood beside Alexander.

"Let's go by ourselves. You don't have to send us off."

The gray cardinal glanced at the carriage with the flamboyant family crest painted on it and shook his head.

Peter had no choice but to change to a simple carriage and insisted on sending Alexander on board.

In the port, numerous mercenaries and landless knights shouted loudly, boarded the ships with the double-headed eagle emblem painted on them with their recruits, and headed for the unknown distance with longing for the future and thirst for profit on their faces.

"Just stay here, may the Holy Father bless you."

Peter took Alexander onto the boat and waved to him from the shore.

"Peter!"

"You said."

“Is Emperor Isaac, who claims to be the protector of Christians and the old enemy of the Ottomans, really going to sit back and do nothing?”

Looking at Messina getting farther and farther away, the Gray Cardinal shouted loudly.

"Before I left, His Majesty said that he would never tolerate Ottoman aggression and would punish the Lord's enemies in his own way."

"Always remember, the Emperor is never far away, and you are not alone!"

Peter also answered loudly and made the sign of the cross on his chest.

Watching the ship disappear on the horizon of sea and sky, Peter returned to his carriage.

In fact, he did not tell Alexander that the emperor had half more to say.

In the royal palace of Carthage, the young emperor walked slowly with his hands behind his back.

Whoever wins or loses the battle in Belgrade, whether the White Knight lives or dies, it has nothing to do with my plan.

……

On the ship, Alexander sat in the cabin anxiously, but the door suddenly opened and his followers hurried in with a gray-black leather bag in their hands.

"what's up?"

The Gray Cardinal asked.

"Your Excellency, this is what Mr. Peter gave me before he left, and he asked me to give it to you..."

Alexander opened the gray leather bag, but all he saw was gold.

(End of this chapter)