1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 203 Skanderbeg's Plan

The trees are lush and green, the flowers are bright, the warm sun hangs in the sky, animals fly through the bushes, and birds fly low in the sky.

This is a col in northeastern Albania, located between the city of Shkodra and Kruje Castle. It was the family territory of the Castrioti family a long time ago. It has a large population and is the core area of ​​Skanderbeg's rule.

On a leeward hillside, Vittorio, who had just been conferred the title of Baron, stuck his head out with several of his personal soldiers and looked at the military camp below.

The military camp was built in an Albanian village, but the majestic Venetian St. Mark's Golden Lion flag was flying above the camp.

"Captain, we caught a villager last night and got a lot of information out of him."

"Oh? Say."

Vittorio was in high spirits, chewing some grass roots.

"It is said that after the Venetian Marshal Colleoni withdrew from the Castle of Ishmi without firing a single arrow, Castrioti had a big quarrel with Colleoni, and then broke camp and returned to the Castle of Kruye."

"Colleoni led a large force that had not lost its main force and retreated north to the city of Scutari, stationing around Lake Scutari."

"However, many mercenaries are still scattered and hiding in the mountains of Albania, bullying the villagers and slowing down our march."

A personal soldier reported.

"This is not a secret. When I went to the military camp for a meeting yesterday, Count Maruna told us the news."

"After this incident, Castrioti and Colleoni parted ways, which is of course a good thing, but I am a little worried."

"My Lord, what are you worried about?"

The bodyguard asked doubtfully.

“It’s hard to say, but I just feel that way.”

Vittorio frowned and shook his head.

"How many Venetian mercenaries are there? What are their weapons and equipment?"

"More than a hundred of them, all idle mercenaries, without any organization. They were a ragtag army temporarily assembled by Corleone to attract firepower."

Vittorio looked carefully and found that the Venetian military camp below was very messy, the trenches were shallow, the arrow towers were sparse, the patrolling guards stopped on the road to chat, and from time to time there were shouts of gambling and drinking from the camp.

The village, which was originally not small, was sparsely populated. The skinny Albanian villagers carried earth baskets and reinforced the camp under the whips of the Venetian mercenaries.

"We can handle it, gather the brothers together,"

Vittorio estimated for a moment and made up his mind.

Soon, two hundred cavalrymen and more than three hundred infantrymen gathered in formation on the gentle hillside. Vittorio mounted his majestic warhorse and drew the sword from his waist.

"Brothers, stop talking nonsense. There is a Venetian military camp in the small valley behind the two hills. There are more than a hundred Venetian mercenaries in it. They are poorly equipped and have low morale. They are no match for us at all."

"Some of us came from Albania, and some of us came from all over the Roman Empire."

"If you are from Albania, it's for your compatriots who are oppressed by the Venetians."

"If you are from Rome, then for the Empire, for the Emperor, for our duties, for our wealth!"

Vittorio raised his scimitar high and clamped his legs tightly around his horse.

"Follow me and kill!"

The war horses neighed, Vittorio took the lead, and two hundred cavalrymen rushed towards the Venetian camp in the valley like tigers descending from the mountains, waving weapons and shouting.

Under the horrified eyes of the Venetians, two hundred cavalrymen crossed two hillsides, easily crossed the shallow trench, broke through the wooden fence, and pierced through the temporary shield formation of the Venetian mercenaries like a hot knife cutting butter, knocking them into pieces.

Cries and roars came one after another, and the scimitars in the hands of the Albanian border cavalry flew up and down, chopping down the fleeing mercenaries one by one.

Then, the infantry broke into the camp along the path that the cavalry had taken, formed an arc-shaped formation, and drove the Venetian mercenaries into a corner of the camp in a semi-encirclement.

Vittorio rode his horse and knocked over a mule, crushing the mercenary who was about to climb onto the mule into a pulp, and then rushed straight towards the large tent in the center.

He ran to the tent, pried open the curtain with his saber, Vittorio dismounted, and broke into the tent with several soldiers.

The two Albanian women on the bed immediately screamed and covered their naked bodies with blankets. A Venetian mercenary leader quickly put on a robe, half-exposed his chest, and raised his hands.

"I surrender! I surrender!"

Vittorio signaled with his eyes, and the soldiers entered the tent with knives in hand, searching every corner carefully.

"No need to search. There is no ambush. I am the captain of this mercenary team. I have officially surrendered to you. I hope you can give me the respect I deserve."

The mercenary leader smiled helplessly.

The sounds of burning and killing outside the camp gradually subsided. The surrendered Venetian mercenaries lowered their heads, lined up in a row, and squatted in the open space at the edge of the village, ready to be counted by the border guards.

Vittorio waved his hand and the soldiers led the two women out of the tent.

"You are smart. Is this how you show loyalty to the Republic?"

Vittorio brought a stool and sat down in front of the mercenary leader.

"They were originally free mercenaries. I was chosen as the captain by the Marshal because I have a trace of noble blood. They are not members of my group, and I am not their leader. We did not know each other before, and the Republic did not consider us as its own people."

The mercenary leader curled his lips.

"A dozen ducats a month, what's the point of playing with that?"

"You are not from Venice?"

Vittorio asked with interest.

"I am from Verona, and the gentlemen of Venice never treat me as a Venetian."

"What do you want to do?"

"If you are willing to hire me, I can fight for you."

The mercenary leader looked at Vittorio expectantly.

"That's impossible. You either pay the ransom and leave, or go to the slave market in Bilinchi and find a new job."

"I still have some savings at home, and I will pay the ransom."

The mercenary leader shook his head regretfully.

"In addition to the normal ransom, you must also pay for your sins. The total is five hundred ducats."

"My family doesn't have that much money, and even if they did, I'm not worth that much in their eyes."

The mercenary leader was shocked by the number.

"Then let's drag you out and execute you to appease the public anger."

Vittorio was about to wave.

"However, I have another piece of news that may be of interest to you. It may be more valuable than me."

"what news?"

"You let me go first."

Vittorio frowned and ordered his men to untie his restraints.

"Don't even think about running away. I'm watching you."

"I swear I won't, sir."

The mercenary leader stretched his muscles and sighed comfortably.

"what news?"

……

Albanian Front Army Camp in Duratzion.

In the main camp with the black bear flag flying, several high-ranking officers of the front were holding a military meeting. The second prince Alexius sat at the top, listening to the conversation of the generals with little interest.

By this time in the protracted war, the huge gap in national strength between the two sides had begun to emerge. Due to the lack of a conscription system and a mobilization system, the number of Venetians' reserve troops decreased, their quality dropped sharply, and they were defeated on the battlefields everywhere. They could only rely on fortresses for defensive operations.

However, they happened to encounter the latest Spartan heavy artillery, and even the fortresses on which they depended for survival collapsed one after another under the fierce artillery fire.

The Battle of Constantinople in 1453 changed the pattern of siege warfare. Under the bombardment of new artillery, even a strong city like the Theodosian Walls could not escape the fate of falling quickly.

In the following decades, siege spears were updated, but defensive shields remained the same. Medieval city walls were unable to cope with the powerful firepower of Renaissance artillery, and siege warfare became much simpler.

This phenomenon continued until the widespread use of bastions.

At present, the Eastern Roman Empire is the second country in the world to professionalize and organize siege artillery units. The Spartan heavy artillery company completely imitated the organizational structure of the Ottoman Empire's royal cannon and improved it in the artillery casting strategy. It no longer pursued excessive enlargement, but instead worked hard on mobility.

The old-style castle built by Venice on the Adriatic coastal plain could hardly withstand the horrific bombardment of Spartan heavy artillery.

"What on earth is this old fox Colleoni thinking? He doesn't even want to defend the Ishmi Castle. Does he really not want to take back the city of Durazion?"

Prince Leonardo of Epirus was a little confused.

"Perhaps this mercenary leader wants to preserve his strength so that he can return to fight for the public property of Venice?"

Messing peeled a nut, threw the pale yellow kernel into his mouth, and chewed it with a crunch.

"Corleoni is not that stupid. If it wasn't the last minute, he wouldn't have resorted to such a desperate measure."

Maruna shook his head.

"If he really gives all of Albania to us, then he will completely fall out with the fake Venetian government. Not only that, his reputation among the mercenaries and citizens will also be completely ruined."

"He has been conserving his strength. He must be planning something."

"Who cares? We just need to move forward steadily. No matter how much they try, it will be useless."

A general said with a smile.

Maruna didn't laugh, but shook his head slightly, his expression a little solemn.

"Corleone's retreat has left us with a big problem."

"Skodra is in the north, and Kruje Castle is in the east. If we insist on marching north, we will be harassed and looted continuously by the Castrioti. They fight guerrilla warfare in the mountains, coming and going like the wind, and it is difficult for us to deal with them."

"If Castrioti had more soldiers, our expedition would probably have ended here."

When Maruna uttered these words, the expressions of the generals became serious.

"What about the navy? Can your Majesty's fleet provide us with assistance?"

"Currently, the Imperial Navy is mainly divided into two waves. One wave is attacking Crete, and the other wave is attacking Corfu. Your Majesty will not send the fleet to the Adriatic Sea before these two Venetian strongholds are eliminated."

"Once we take Shkoder and Ragusa, Your Majesty will have a stable naval base deep in the Adriatic Sea. By then, the Venetian fleet will really be trapped in the northern waters."

"Don't worry about Ragusa. Your Majesty's envoys are conducting diplomacy there, trying to persuade them to surrender to us."

As Maruna spoke, he suddenly remembered Alexios who had been silent the whole time.

"Prince Alexios, what is your opinion?"

"Ok?"

Alexius came to his senses and found that everyone's eyes were directed at him, and his face turned red for a moment.

"No, it all depends on Your Excellency the Count."

Alexius waved his hands quickly.

"Your Highness, are you tired? It's getting late, how about taking a rest?"

Speaking of this, Alexius' heart tightened. He jumped off his seat and bowed slightly to the generals.

"Everyone, my father has asked me to inspect the military camp every night to boost morale. Now the time has come, and I have to go."

"Your Highness is very considerate and considerate. I sincerely admire you."

Maruna watched Alexios walk out of the tent under the escort of Yergubai's personal guard, and once again focused his attention on the map.

At this moment, there was a sudden sound of hurried horse hooves outside the camp, and the young general rushed into the tent in a hurry. "Brother, I have--"

Vittorio looked at the tent full of senior officers and felt a little embarrassed for a moment.

"Vittorio, if you have anything to say, just say it directly and let the generals take it into consideration."

Maruna glanced at his brother and spoke.

"Captain, my army wiped out a group of Venetian mercenaries the morning before yesterday, killing more than 40 people and capturing more than 100 people. Only 10 of our troops were killed or wounded."

"Nice win, any more?"

Maruna nodded.

"Among the prisoners there is a Venetian mercenary captain, who revealed a key piece of information to us."

"What information?"

"According to him, as Grand Duke Castrioti's cooperation with Venice deepened, many religious rebellions broke out in the mountainous areas of eastern Albania. Hamsa was unable to suppress them, so he could only hide in Kruje Castle and ask his uncle for help."

Maruna and Leonardo looked at each other.

"This is true. We support the religious rebels in order to disrupt Castrioti's source of troops."

"Then he told me that Grand Duke Castrioti insisted on going back to quell the rebellion and asked Colleoni for reinforcements, but he was sternly rejected and scolded."

"Then, Castrioti and Colleoni completely fell out and went their separate ways. Castrioti returned to the east to quell the rebellion, while Colleoni withdrew his troops to the north."

"What a cruel Colleoni! Not only did he not provide assistance to his nominal ally, he also deliberately gave his flank to us!"

Leonardo sighed.

"Only this?"

Maruna's expression was unpredictable and he asked again.

"The mercenary captain also said that when he was robbing people on the road before, the farthest he robbed was to the foot of Kruye Castle, but he found that the gates were closed and the troops were empty. He didn't even dare to send troops to drive them away."

"Is this news true?"

Maruna straightened up.

"After receiving the intelligence, I sent people to investigate Cruye Castle. The intelligence was true. The number of defenders there was probably less than a thousand."

"so……"

Vittorio raised his head.

"So I suggest that the army march out immediately to capture Cruye Castle and resolve the flank threat."

"If we can capture Cruye Castle, the Castrioti family will be trapped in the eastern mountains and will no longer be a concern for us."

"In this way, we can focus on heading north to Shkoder and completely drive the Venetian forces out of the Albanian military zone!"

Maruna didn't answer, but tapped his fingers on the table, his brows furrowed.

"What do you think?"

"If this is true, it's worth a try."

Leonardo spoke slowly.

"We have already spent too much time and resources in this war. If there is an opportunity to end it quickly, we must not let it go easily."

Hearing this, Maruna breathed a sigh of relief and made up his mind.

"Well then, everyone go back and prepare. I will send out scouts to investigate again. If the information is correct, then we will set out to Kruye!"

……

Lake Urza in north-central Albania.

George Castrioti Skanderbeg sat quietly on his horse, looking at the blue lake.

"Uncle, the last rebel group has been pacified. What are you going to do with them?"

Hamza Kastriotti held Skanderbeg's horse.

"They are all poor people who have been instigated by the priests. Don't make things difficult for them."

"The strong ones will be recruited as soldiers, and the rest will be sent back to their hometowns."

"Even if they betray me, they are still my compatriots."

Hamza nodded.

"I'm sorry, uncle. I didn't expect Isaac III's religious offensive to be so powerful that even our core territory has been infiltrated by them."

"But they are different from other people after all. When they saw your flag, they even dropped their weapons."

Hamza laughed.

"Don't blame yourself. This rebellion actually helped our plan."

"Uncle, what is the plan? Can't you tell me now?"

Skanderbeg was silent.

A fast horse came over, and the messenger took out the letter from the tube and handed it to Skanderbeg.

Skanderbeg unfolded it and a smile finally broke out on his gloomy face.

"uncle?"

Skanderbeg ignored him, took out a pen, wrote a few words and handed it to the messenger waiting on the side.

"Go to Shkoder and hand it over to Marshal Colleoni!"

Skanderbeg watched the messenger disappear outside the military camp, then turned around and looked at Hamsa with a smile.

"uncle?"

"Maruna, oh Maruna, even such a cautious person couldn't help but take the bait."

Hamsa looked at his uncle in amazement.

"You mean?"

"Maruna is too cautious. If we continue to fight him, we won't have any chance of winning."

Skanderbeg shook his head.

"So, we must create a difficult situation for him and put the key to solving the difficulty in front of him, so that we can lead this suspicious black bear out of the cave."

"Could it be..."

There was a great uproar in Hamsa's heart.

"When he attacks Cruye Castle, we will attack their supply lines from the rear and trap them in the mountains."

"At the same time, the Venetians will advance by land and sea, aiming for Latium."

"Dyrrachium was originally a fortified city, but it was severely damaged after the war, especially the port area which was bombarded by Sparta's heavy artillery."

Skanderbeg's eyes were deep.

"If the Venetian fleet and army can capture Durratio in a short period of time, we will be able to encircle the Maruna army trapped in the mountains and trap them in Albania!"

"Only in this way can we survive the Emperor's ambitions!"

Hamsa couldn't calm down for a long time after hearing this.

"Then what about Kruye Castle? There aren't many troops there!"

"The western wall is weaker than the eastern wall, and Maruna brought a lot of Spartan heavy artillery!"

Skanderbeg said nothing, looking at his nephew with an indescribable look.

"Are you planning to use Kruye Castle as bait?"

"That's our family's ancestral land!"

Hamsa's face flushed and he roared.

"This is the family honor, how can we give it up so easily!"

"Yes, you can take it back eventually, but all your fame and reputation have been taken away by Corleone! Others will not understand you!"

"My son, if you want to keep the Albanian land, you have to give up something."

Skanderbeg's eyes dimmed and he sighed softly.

"I'm dying, what value do these things have to me?"

"I would be very satisfied if I could do something more for Albania before I die."

When Hamsa heard this, he felt a sense of suffocation in his chest. He opened his mouth but still managed to hold it back.

"You are the Grand Duke. I cannot change your decision."

Hamsa bowed slightly.

"But, as your nephew, there are two things I still have to remind you of."

"Go ahead, Hamsa."

Skanderbeg said kindly.

"First, you always put Albania first and did everything for this nation, even your own family."

"But have you considered how the rest of the Castrioti family might feel? Your son? Your brother? And me?"

There was a hint of coolness in Hamsa's voice.

"You may not know that many people in the family are actually very willing to surrender to Emperor Isaac in exchange for the hereditary title of Grand Duke of Albania."

Skanderbeg pursed his lips, and his cloudy old eyes were dull.

"Second, you can't trust the Venetians too much, especially Colleoni."

Hamsa raised his head and looked directly at his old uncle.

"He is a selfish bastard who can betray even his own motherland, Venice, and tear up a treaty as easily as drinking water."

"Once the surrounding situation changes and threatens his own interests, Colleoni will betray you without hesitation."

"Ragusa and Montenegro have been restless recently. Think about it, if problems occur in these two places, Colleoni's escape route will be cut off. Will he still take this gamble with you?"

Hamsa shook his head in disappointment and closed his mouth.

"Even if there is only a slight possibility, I must cherish it."

Skanderbeg looked up at the sky, and above it, a black eagle was soaring.

"Because, if Maruna is not driven out this time, Albania will have no future."

Skanderbeg looked at Hamsa and forced a smile onto his wrinkled face.

"If you really fail, just tie me up and go to the emperor to ask for forgiveness."

"He is a man who cherishes the old times. Even when we were at war, he kept writing to me."

"You have been following me in battles since you were a child. It has been really hard for you."

Hamsa forced a smile and waved his hands.

The uncle and nephew did not say anything else. In the silence, the sun set and the clouds rolled and dispersed.

(End of this chapter)