1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 199: Smoke of Fire
On a road along the Black Sea, fleeing civilians and defeated soldiers formed a long line and headed southeast.

It was winter, and a winter rain washed away the blood on the battlefield, making the earth full of life, but it also made the originally hard road covered with mud. The horses' hooves and wheels sank into the mud. The owners tried again and again, but in the end they could only sit powerlessly on the ground, gasping for breath and wiping away tears.

The crowd moved very slowly, and whenever a carriage got stuck in the mud, the soldiers who were maintaining order on the roadside would step forward and help the owner move the carriage away to avoid completely blocking the road.

If the carriage sank too deep, the soldiers could only ask the owner to take away his belongings and dismantle the carriage.

The wealthy businessmen and nobles had fled long before the war began. Those who were still stranded on the road were either hoping for a lucky break or were unable to leave.

For civilians, the destruction caused by war is enormous. No matter whether they leave or stay, their originally peaceful and comfortable lives will be completely destroyed. A broken carriage and an old donkey often carry all their belongings.

The working people of this era were very regional. If they lost their hometowns, they would lose their means of production, their interpersonal relationships, and their means of livelihood.

At the front of the refugee group, another donkey was stuck in the mud. The poor creature was carrying too many packages and was already too tired to breathe. It flapped its limbs in the sticky mud, with sadness in its eyes.

Its owners were a family of three. The man was arguing with the soldiers who had arrived, unwilling to give up his most precious treasure. The woman was sitting on the side of the road holding her daughter, looking around anxiously.

The rest of the refugees didn't pay much attention to this, ignored the woman's pleading look, and tacitly took a detour.

Not only that, a few young men with pointed chins and monkey faces were looking at the packages placed on the roadside shamelessly, and their restless eyes were wandering over the bodies of women and girls.

"Hey, you guys don't have anything left anyway. My uncle is a businessman in Constantinople and has some business in Bilinchi. Do you want me to introduce you to some lucrative jobs?"

A gangster touched the woman with a smile, and the girl was so scared that she hid her head in her mother's arms.

The woman kissed her daughter's forehead, then pulled out a dagger from her waist and waved it at the gangster.

"Please leave! We don't need you!"

"Ouch! That's pretty cruel. Wait and see..."

The gangster walked forward viciously, blocking the woman's view, while his accomplice quietly walked behind the woman, picked up the package and ran away.

"Got it! Run!"

The accomplice ran a long distance and shouted to the back.

The woman screamed immediately and was about to get up, but she couldn't bear to leave her daughter in her arms. Her husband hurried over, but was tripped by the gangster and fell heavily to the ground.

The gangster seized the opportunity, snatched the daughter from the woman's arms, and ran away with her.

The crying of children, the screams of women and the laughter of hooligans rang out in the crowd. Everyone walked forward woodenly, not wanting to get into trouble.

During the war, such scenes were played out every day. After losing order, humans tore off the veil of gentleness and civilization and became no different from beasts.

The thief and the gangster ran a long way, stopped laughing, and were about to open the package when they suddenly heard footsteps ahead on the road.

They hid the package behind their backs, pressed the girl in front of them, blocked her mouth tightly, looked around and recognized the identity of the person who came, and immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

It's just a militia. Even the regular army wouldn't bother to deal with such matters, let alone them.

"Sir! There's a commotion out back, go check it out!"

The thief stood by the roadside with his head lowered and bowed to the militia who came over.

"Hand it over and get out of here."

The militia captain's voice was not loud, but it revealed an air of unquestionable conviction.

"Of course, of course, we can't do without adults..."

The thief's face froze, and then he quickly took out a few silver coins from his bag and handed them to the militia captain.

"The package is not yours, and the girl is not yours either. Hand them over."

Seeing this, the thief immediately put on a cowardly look.

"Boy, I advise you not to get involved in this matter. I'm just a small character, but the boss is organized and is responsible for the business on this road."

"You're not afraid of being discovered by the masters for making money from refugees?"

"Dude, guess who made the most money? Didn't you see the soldiers behind you don't care?"

The gangster said this, pulling the girl up and preparing to leave.

"You are just a small militia captain, don't meddle in other people's business!"

The militia captain raised his eyebrows, kicked the gangster, and pulled the girl to his side.

"Bastard!"

The gangster was so angry that he glared at the captain viciously.

"Just wait and see. I want to see who dares to ruin our master's business!"

"If you act like a hero today, you'll lose your job tomorrow!"

The militia captain smiled, lifted his cloak, and revealed the family emblem on his chest.

"My name is Torosi Notaras, Archduke Lucas is my grandfather, and Baron Avilon is my uncle. Just go."

The gangster's face suddenly turned ugly. He snatched the package from his accomplice, threw it on the ground, and ran away in a hurry.

"Brother, this..."

"What bad luck, I met a Notaras."

The gangster cursed.

"Everyone in their family is extremely hot-tempered and cannot tolerate any injustice. They are all registered with the higher-ups, so it's best not to provoke them."

"Other senior officials turn a blind eye to many things, but they are different. If they see something, they will intervene and criticize it."

"The one we met today was relatively mild. If we had met the others, you and I would have been dead standing here!"

The gangster pulled his accomplice and sped up.

"I know that a few days ago, in the North Macedonia Military District, several merchants from Constantinople colluded with local elders to drive up prices, seize farmland, and force the people to sell their children. Unfortunately, they were discovered by Commander Avilon."

"Guess what? Over fifty people were tied to the rack and burned to death, regardless of their status. The youngest was only fourteen years old!"

The gangster shuddered and kicked a stone on the roadside.

"And that Archduke Lucas, guess how he stepped down?"

"You mean because of age?"

The rogue shook his head.

"This old duke hates merchants very much. He thinks they will destroy rural production and disrupt order. A few years ago, after His Majesty Isaac signed several decrees that favored merchants, he was so angry that he came to the emperor after drinking and announced on the spot that he would quit. He also pointed at the emperor's nose and cursed. Even His Majesty Constantine couldn't stand it."

"Can your majesty tolerate this?"

"Not only did he not say anything, he also appointed his own nephew as the chief of the North Macedonian Military District."

"You know, this is the largest military region, and it can afford to support thousands of soldiers!"

The gangster looked at the sky enviously.

"Otherwise, how can someone else become the emperor?"

"Okay, although these words are not a secret, don't tell anyone. We have gained a lot this time. Go back and tell the higher-ups, they will understand."

The hooligans walked faster and faster until they disappeared deep into the countryside.

On the road, Torosi watched a few gangsters disappear from his sight, waved his hand, and called over a subordinate.

"Take a few people with you to follow them. I'm afraid they may have captured more than just this one child."

"Don't be afraid. If you encounter any big businessmen or high-ranking officials, just arrest them. I will take responsibility if anything goes wrong."

The subordinate nodded, and led a small team to leave quietly.

Torosi picked up the girl, mounted his warhorse, and headed toward the refugee group.

The girl's parents were running over in a hurry and happened to meet the militia.

Torossi put the girl down and watched the family hug each other and cry.

"Thank you very much, sir. I only have this one child. This is all I have left. All——"

Torosi waved his hand to stop them and looked at the refugees.

"Let's go quickly. There is a refugee camp in Adrianople. Your Majesty is promoting work-for-relief. In the city, they dare not openly challenge Your Majesty's majesty."

Torosi said nothing more, gently stepped on his horse's belly, and came to the refugee group.

Several soldiers saw him approaching, noticed the emblem on his chest, and hurried over to salute him.

"Where's your commander? Ask him to come over!"

After saying this, Torosi folded his arms and sat upright on the horse.

After a while, a skinny middle-aged man came over with several personal soldiers. Seeing the cold Torosi, he slowly came up to him.

"Hello, I am the commander of this unit. We are the city guards of Burgas City. After the fall of Burgas, we were ordered to escort the refugees to the south."

"Is there a problem?"

"I found that many refugees broke the law and discipline. Please stop them."

Torosi suppressed his temper and spoke word by word.

"You are joking. We are just the city guards who were disbanded. We don't have this power."

"How much did they pay you?"

"I confiscated it, but I couldn't afford to offend."

The middle-aged man said slowly.

"There are too many things to handle."

"On some roads, deserters and ruffians have joined forces to block the road and set up checkpoints. What we have here is at most a minor incident."

"Burgas fell too quickly. The Second Army of the Purple Guard stationed in the city was directly defeated. The militia and the city guards lost most of their men. Everyone is very resentful."

The middle-aged man raised his head and looked at the emblem on Torosi's chest and the sword at his waist.

"I am not from a big family, and it is impossible for me to study in the Royal Knight Academy like you, and it is even more impossible for me to get the sword bestowed by the emperor himself."

"All I can do is to act according to my conscience as much as possible, but I just hope I can avoid making mistakes."

Torossi was so angry that he was speechless for a while, and it took him a while to recover.

"I will report this matter truthfully to my superiors."

The middle-aged man nodded, his face expressionless.

"What else?"

"Burgas has fallen, Thrace is in danger, and Mahmud's army is resting. I'm afraid they will move south soon."

"After discussing with the ministers, His Majesty Constantine decided to recruit militias from nearby villages to reinforce the front line."

"These militias will gather in Adrianople and I will be in charge of their unified command."

"congratulations."

The middle-aged man said stiffly.

"Food, military supplies, and refugees willing to join the army."

Torosi was too lazy to waste time talking to this old man and went straight to the point.

"You can recruit refugees yourselves. The food and military supplies are in a warehouse in the west. The soldiers of the Purple Guard are guarding there."

Torossi nodded, left a few subordinates behind to recruit soldiers, and took the rest of the militia and headed towards Adrianople.

In October 1462, after receiving news from Venice and the Ottoman Empire, the Bulgarian Bey Mahmud assembled an army of 10 in Sofia and vowed to march south.

In November, Mahmud besieged Kardzhali, leaving all the artillery and most of the troops outside the city, and took a small number of elite troops to the east and hid in the valley outside the city. On November 11, a Wallachian caravan packed black gunpowder and flour in wooden barrels. The Orthodox priests on the caravan asked for asylum in the name of brothers, sneaked into the city gate, ignited the gunpowder at the city gate, and caused chaos.

Mahmoud, who was lying in ambush in the dark, took the opportunity to charge and personally went into battle, directly destroying the Second Army of the Purple Guards that came to support. The army commander Orhan fell off his horse and became unconscious. The army's morale plummeted and they were defeated by Mahmoud and fled in embarrassment.

On September 9, the Bulgarian army outside the city of Kardzhali withdrew and moved eastward, rushing to the city of Burgas to stabilize the situation and basically gained a foothold.

The rapid fall of Burgas disrupted Constantinople's strategic layout. Half of Thrace was exposed to Mahmoud's attack. Refugees fled south with their families, and the people of Constantinople were in panic.

Constantine XI personally put on his armor, inspected the city walls, stabilized the morale of the army, and on the advice of several ministers, recruited soldiers and ordered them to rush to Adrianople to defend the last pass to Constantinople.

……

In Isaac's study in the Carthaginian palace, the slave trader Peter sat trembling on a stool, cold sweat streaming down his face.

Although there was soft velvet under his butt, he still twisted his body uncomfortably, as if he was sitting on steel nails.

"Your Majesty, I..."

"Try the coffee from New Thrace and see how it differs from that from St. William."

Isaac said calmly, bringing two cups of coffee to the table.

Peter raised his glass, took a shaky sip, and forced a smile.

"That's great. The Empire now has a new coffee-producing area, all thanks to your Majesty's wisdom..."

Isaac took a sip and shook his head.

"There is frost in the winter, the yield is extremely low, and the taste is not as good as that in West Africa. It seems that this place is still not suitable."

"I won't be planting anymore. I'll focus on the fur trade."

"Your Majesty, you are..."

"Look, everyone makes mistakes, including me."

Isaac glanced out the window, deliberately avoiding looking at the sweaty slave trader.

"Peter, you were originally just a poor boy from the Balkan Mountains. Fortunately, you had a good vision and came to Surt very early. You caught up with the wave of North African development, started your business in the early slave trade, and gradually grew into a famous slave trader in the entire Mediterranean world."

"Yes, it's all thanks to your majesty's trust."

"Your brother later got involved in the West African trade and owned a large fleet. At that time, you found a shipyard and wanted to use your connections. Mansreti found me again, and I agreed."

"Do you think three thousand ducats can really buy four caravels?"

Isaac turned his head and spoke slowly.

"Your son studied with Justinian, talked back to his teacher with him, and drank secretly with him."

"I know my son. He won't look down on you just because you are slave traders."

"Your Majesty, we will all keep this in mind."

Peter said eagerly.

"That's true. You are a smart man and have done a good job in immigration and migration. You even figured out my intentions and secretly assisted Alexander's Peasant Crusade."

Isaac nodded, looking directly into Peter's grey eyes.

"But recently I heard that there are a few bad guys in your Chamber of Commerce who took advantage of the Balkan war to make a fortune. They bribed officials and sold many refugees who lost their homes into slavery. In order to satisfy the bad habits of some officials, they even extended their evil hands to children."

"Why? The money you've earned in recent years isn't enough for you to spend?"

Peter suddenly became anxious. He fell to his knees and hugged Isaac's legs with his hands.

"Your Majesty, I didn't know anything about these things! I have been running between West Africa and Italy for the past six months and have never been back to the Balkans!"

"I know, so you're still alive."

Isaac said quietly, drinking the coffee in his cup.

"I've explained it so clearly. You should understand what to do."

Peter stood up and nodded quickly.

"I will expel them from the Chamber of Commerce, release the refugees who were sold into slavery, and give each of them compensation!"

"I have already ordered people to deal with those merchants, and the refugees will be released soon. You don't have to worry about these."

Isaac shook his head.

"You are responsible for paying for the construction of five schools in the Thrace region and hiring teachers at your own expense. I will send people to inspect. If you only do superficial work, you should know what the consequences will be!"

"sure!"

"Also, I recently reorganized the Saint Titus Rebellion into the 12th Guards Legion. This will be the last legion of the Guards."

"From now on, the Imperial Guard will no longer add new numbers, but will instead expand its size."

Isaac thought about it.

"Recently, I plan to expand the First and Third Legions of the Guards to 2,000 people, but the treasury is almost empty, and I don't want to increase the burden on the people."

"I'll give you 5,000 ducats to support the Empire's war effort!"

Peter understood the meaning of the song and answered it immediately.

"You still have to contact other big businessmen and conduct a round of fundraising to fill the military supplies."

Peter felt bitter when he heard this, gritted his teeth and nodded.

Isaac gave him a teasing look.

"I won't let you be a villain for nothing. Haven't you always wanted to enter the Black Sea white slave trade? I wrote to Charlotte and asked her to provide you with some help."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!"

Peter was overjoyed.

Isaac waved his hand, Peter bowed deeply, and was about to leave, but was stopped by Isaac again.

"By the way, tell my subordinates that there is no need to contact those officials anymore. The three councillors and five tax collectors are now on their way to New Thrace. Maybe you can catch up with them when you go to collect furs later."

After saying goodbye to Peter, Isaac walked into the garden and found Leonor taking care of the child.

In the sunshine, the eldest daughter Thessaloniki was lying on her mother's lap, reading a storybook, Alexios and Carlo were competing in climbing a tree, and the youngest son Basil was sleeping soundly in the cradle.

"Father, let me tell you a little secret!"

Seeing Isaac coming, Thessalonika jumped up and hugged Isaac's legs with a silly smile.

"what?"

Isaac touched her little head lovingly and asked with a smile.

"Justinian sent us many gifts. Mine are some very beautiful pearls! From the Black Sea!"

Hearing his eldest son's name, Isaac snorted in annoyance.

Salonika took Isaac's hand and continued talking to herself.

"Mom's is a very precious bottle of perfume, which is said to have come from the East!"

"Basil's are some expensive Persian silks, and Justinian said he would make clothes for him."

"Alexius and Carlo each received a Tartar scimitar, as well as a number of chivalry novels, all of which he found!"

"Ah."

"I know all this, it's not a secret."

Isaac took his daughter and sat next to Leonor.

"He didn't just send gifts to our family, he sent gifts to classmates, relatives, friends, and teachers."

"This kid hasn't learned anything else, but he has learned all these little tricks!"

Isaac felt a headache, leaned over and gently kissed his youngest son on the cheek.

"I learned this from you. You always said that only when you combine interests with emotions can you firmly grasp a person's heart."

"Now every Christmas, you still give gifts to the officers and soldiers to show that you will always remember them."

Leonor rested her head on Isaac's shoulder and closed her eyes.

Isaac was speechless for a moment, then suddenly remembered something.

"By the way, why don't I have a gift?"

"You are the one he loves the most, how could he not have one?"

Leonor picked up a letter from her side and handed it to Isaac.

The first half of the letter was written by Charlotte, which briefly described the progress of the Crimean War. It mentioned that Justinian, accompanied by Bartholomew, commanded the fleet to penetrate into the northern part of the peninsula, successfully destroyed three supply stations of Haji Giray, and captured a Mongol prince, persuading him to be loyal to the empire and he was currently being sent to Constantinople.

Isaac nodded slightly.

The second half was full of boasting from Justinian, so Isaac skipped it and went straight to the last sentence.

"Father, I will conquer a vast territory for you as a gift, in my own way, God bless me."

Isaac remained silent and threw the letter aside.

"It's good to see more blood and fire. When I was his age, I had already started exploring Africa."

"Now that I stay in the palace all day, I really want to fly to the battlefield."

Isaac sighed.

"You promised me, and the Prime Minister, that we would talk about it later, but this time you must stay in North Africa!"

Leonor stared at Isaac angrily.

"I understand. The troops have been withdrawn. I must stay here to guard the place."

Isaac's eyes flickered.

"Once this war is over, I must reform the empire's education system and official selection system. Not only is the existing system inefficient, it is also very prone to corruption."

"Take those slave traders for example. Do you think they really value the refugees from Thrace? They just want to bribe the officials!"

"I blocked the trade between North Africa and the Black Sea, and the officials couldn't do anything about it, so they came up with this good idea. They are really smart!"

Isaac punched the ground and gnashed his teeth in anger.

"Is the situation in Thrace critical?"

Leonor was a little worried.

"Some, but it's still under control."

"Mahmoud is a famous general of the time. It would be abnormal if he didn't take any action."

"But Adrianople and Constantinople are both strong cities. He can't conquer them, and he won't be stupid enough to attack them with all his strength. Just pretending to attack them is enough to give an explanation to Mehmed II."

Isaac stood up, opened his arms, closed his eyes, and felt the warm winter sun.

"Dyrrachium has fallen, southern Crete is under control, and Venice can no longer hold on."

"A protracted war is a test of national strength and strategic determination."

"After we get through this period, the shackles on us will be completely broken, and then,"

Isaac's eyes suddenly opened.

"When that time comes, we will be like birds flying into the sky and fish entering the sea, free from all restraints!"

(End of this chapter)