1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 295 Black Gold City

The sky is clear and the night is deep. The brilliant Milky Way stretches across the sky and the dark red crescent moon casts a dim light.

The tide rose slowly, flooding the wet beach. The evening breeze blew from the land to the sea, blowing the weeds and bushes on the beach and the tiny lights in the coastal cottages.

This is a seaside fishing village located on the southwest coast of the Anatolian Peninsula. Not far to the south is the estuary of the Menderes River, and to the north lies a thousand-year-old city, Ephesus.

Further north of Ephesus is Smyrna, the most important city in the southwest of the Ottoman Empire and the largest port on the Aegean Sea.

The Menderes River is the most important river in southwestern Anatolia. The land here is fertile and suitable for the development of irrigation agriculture. Although there are no large plains, the scattered river valley lowlands can feed a large population.

There are also many medium and large cities on the banks of the Menderes River, such as Aydin, Serke, Nazir...

After the Eastern Roman Empire withdrew from Asia, the western coast of Anatolia was once owned by separatist forces of various sizes, including the State of Kareisi Bey, the State of Aydin Bey, the State of Sarukhan Bey, the Principality of Mitse... These small states once had their glory, but in the end they all fell under the powerful offensive of the Ottoman Empire without exception.

Among these separatist forces, some ruling families directly lost their country and were exterminated, while others were absorbed into the ruling class of the Ottoman Empire, served as local chief executives, and became dignitaries and hereditary princes of the Ottoman Empire.

During the Great Turkish War, this fertile land was of course attacked. The navy and pirates of the Eastern Roman Empire set out from various islands in the Aegean Sea, avoiding the heavily guarded fortresses and fortresses, and harassed small towns and villages on the southwest coast from time to time, making it difficult for Ottoman officials to defend themselves.

Later, the Eastern Roman army landed in Bithynia, and the navy and army began to move northward. The pressure of attack from the southwest suddenly eased, and the Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II also drew soldiers from the southwest and collected food to supply the war in the northwest.

To be honest, the Ottoman nobles in the southwest were quite loyal to His Majesty the Sultan. They not only guarded the fortress with all their heart and soul, but also collected a lot of food and wages for His Majesty the Sultan.

They were well aware that the Eastern Roman Empire might allow the Turkic tribes on the Anatolian Plateau to maintain their autonomy, but would never allow them to continue to act tyrannically in the core areas along the Aegean coast, and conflicts between the two sides were inevitable.

When the northwest fell and the Bursa area became a hippodrome for the Eastern Roman cavalry, the southwest region took on the responsibility of providing money and food, becoming the last relatively safe strategic hinterland of the Ottoman Empire.

Of course, the southwest region has not yet encountered a military attack, and it is by no means a "pure land". Successive natural disasters have caused large tracts of land to suffer reduced production. The exploitation of the Sultan and officials at all levels has pushed the people to a dead end, and dissatisfaction with the Ottoman family is growing.

This spring, the temperature was relatively high, and the melting snow and rainfall caused the river water level to rise rapidly, causing a flood in the Mendres River. Instead of providing disaster relief, the Turkic officials continued to increase taxes due to military difficulties, causing countless people to be displaced.

When man is determined, he can conquer nature; when man is unstable, nature can conquer him. When politics collapses, the adverse effects of natural disasters will increase exponentially. For a time, thieves will rise up and wars will never stop.

On the hillside north of the fishing village, a group of cavalrymen were walking at night in the jungle. There were not many of them and their equipment was poor, but each of them looked ferocious and bloody, and it was obvious that they were also bandits.

In the middle of the team, a middle-aged man with gloomy eyes was silently gazing at the sea in the distance. His face was covered with scars of various sizes, and he looked particularly ferocious.

"Captain, the village at the foot of the mountain looks good. Should we…"

Beside him, a short man with shifty eyes was laughing.

"There are more important things."

The chief's deep voice sounded faintly.

"In the future, we will have no shortage of wars to fight, and everyone will have delicious food and beautiful women."

"You have the final say."

There was a look of longing in the short man's eyes.

"There are fewer and fewer patrols around here, but we still can't let our guard down. Let's speed up."

The great chief lightly squeezed the horse's belly, dismounted and trotted over the low hill.

His name was Otum, a native Ottoman Turk and once considered a Turkish noble. His great-grandfather had followed the Ottoman Sultan Bayezid I to participate in the Battle of Ankara, and then chose the right monarch during the Great Interregnum, made some military achievements, and became an iqta lord.

Otum's grandfather and father were both good at business. Not only did they successfully make their Iqta territory hereditary, they also established many industries, turning the originally poor and deserted village into a well-known land of fish and rice, and they also got themselves a position in the local government.

However, Otum failed to inherit his father's property. He was the child of an Armenian slave girl. His father did not like him and preferred his younger son born to a daughter of a prominent family.

After his father's death, Autumn was soon kicked out of the house. Because he refused to return the mill left to him by his father, he was whipped by his younger brother, leaving scars all over his body.

Later, the dying Otum saved his life and traveled around the world from then on. He worked as a laborer at the docks of Smyrna, served as a guard in a caravan, and fought in the Sultan's army. He was promoted to squad leader because he was not afraid of death.

Not long ago, a small team led by Ottoman set out from Smyrna to the north, ordered to reinforce the city of Bursa. Halfway through the journey, the granary that was supposed to provide supplies to the army was destroyed by a flood, resulting in a food shortage in the army.

However, despite the food shortage, the Sultan's Janissaries still enjoyed delicacies, opium and female slaves, which caused great anger to Otum.

He knew that this Janissary was the "New Janissary" composed of descendants of nobles, and was the group with the weakest combat effectiveness. Otum always looked down on these people and never thought that he was worse than them.

Finally one day, the reinforcement troops began to mutiny. The lower-level soldiers poured the swill in their hands on the quartermaster's head, rushed into the barracks of the descendants of nobles, and looted all their food.

Unlike other mutinous soldiers, Otum did not hold any hope and never thought that his treasonous behavior could be forgiven by senior officials. He simply fled into the mountains with some soldiers and became a horse bandit.

As it turned out, Otum's decision was correct. The nobles forgave the soldiers who committed minor offenses, and executed all the soldiers who directly participated in looting food.

In the following days, Otum and his men wandered around, absorbing more refugees and robbing more wealthy nobles.

Among the "rebels" in Anatolia, Otum's army was not the largest in number, but it was also one of the most powerful. What ordinary militiamen lacked most was actually military knowledge that they could not learn, but Otum, who came from the military, understood some of it.

"Chief Otum, we're getting there!"

The short man said this, pointing to the cliff ahead.

There is the sea below the cliff, and the salty and fishy smell wafts into everyone's nose.

"What should I do? Is it still the same as before?"

"Well, find three people to follow me. You are responsible for managing them. Don't move around until I come back."

Otum pointed out three trusted subordinates, and they tied up their horses, climbed down the cliff using the rope ladder left over from previous times, and entered a seaside cave.

The water in the cave was already knee-deep. Four bandits held torches and waded into the cave.

At the deepest part of the cave, a small boat is clearly visible.

Autumn pushed aside the branches covering the boat, lifted the fur from under the branches, climbed into the boat, and pulled up his three subordinates.

After a while, four bandits paddled out of the cave slowly and headed towards the sea under the cover of night.

When they reached the middle of the sea, Autumn stopped paddling, picked up the stone anchor and threw it into the sea.

Autumn waited quietly, his gray eyes scanning the sea.

Suddenly, lights appeared on the sea in the distance, and the outline of a large ship was vaguely visible.

"Here they come, light the fire."

Autumn said simply.

The three bandits dragged out an iron basin and started a fire in it.

The big ship saw the fire, raised its sails, and slowly sailed towards Otum.

"Alright, put out the fire quickly, and don't burn my boat, you idiots!"

Autumn cursed and kicked his shocked subordinate.

"What, you've never seen a big ship before? Humph, the last one I saw was much bigger than this one!"

Autumn looked at the warship that was getting closer and closer.

In fact, compared with large carracks, this warship is not big, but the overall shape is very beautiful, and the streamlined hull is covered with black gun muzzles.

The bronze statue on the bow is very ferocious. From a distance, it looks like a giant deep-sea monster with bared fangs and claws.

"The Kraken... the Greeks really knew how to name things."

Autumn recognized the Greek words on the hull, curled his lips and spat into the sea.

The Kraken, a product of cooperation between the Eastern Roman Empire and the Portuguese Kingdom's navies, has distinct Portuguese characteristics. It is a light gunboat that completed its launching ceremony at the Athens Shipyard in 1469 and was incorporated into the Western Mediterranean Fleet.

In return, the Eastern Roman Empire packaged the ship designs seized from the Republic of Venice and handed them over to the Portuguese, including the early drawings of the Cairo Star.

The Kraken was already in sight. Autumn stood up, gave a few instructions to his subordinates, and climbed up to the deck of the Kraken along the rope ladder.

Led by the sailor, Otum was taken to the captain's room, where he saw from afar the captain standing beside him and fleet commander Fidel working at his desk.

"You're here, Autumn."

Fidel glanced at him and continued tracing the nautical chart.

"I am Admiral Fidel."

"Oh? Why is it the Honorable Admiral? Where did the diplomat from last time, Marcus from the Komnenos family, go?"

Autumn's expression remained unchanged.

"Isn't he in charge of Eastern Intelligence?"

"Marcus has to meet with other people. You don't think you're our only choice, do you?"

"The war in the north has subsided. I have nothing to do, so I asked the Emperor for this job."

Fidel, whose temples were already gray, put down the nautical chart, stared at Otum, whose face was covered with scars, and nodded imperceptibly.

"Yes, Marcus is right. He looks like a notorious bandit."

Otum was indifferent to Fidel's words and also stared at him.

"Just be frank. You sent someone to find me and asked me to meet you. What do you want to do?"

Fidel did not answer, but leisurely lit a cigarette for himself and took a puff.

"You lead the troops very well, help me kill someone."

"Who is the Captain going to kill?"

Autumn asked.

"Rustu, the food supervisor of Naziri City."

"Who?"

Autumn raised an eyebrow.

"Captain, don't you know he's my half-brother?"

"People like you still care about these things."

Fidel smiled contemptuously.

"Captain, you misunderstood. This person is my--"

"Tell me how much it costs."

Fidel interrupted him.

"Killed two hundred people, burned five hundred grains, and looted a thousand towns."

Autumn said immediately.

"Akeche?"

Fidel asked.

"Oh, your Majesty the Sultan's Akçe has long been worthless. There is not much silver in one silver coin."

Autumn looked away sarcastically.

"Didn't you also ship a lot of counterfeit coins that didn't contain any silver to Anatolia? Don't try to fool me with this stuff."

"A Venetian ducat, an Austrian florin, or your gold issac, will do."

"That's impossible. There are too many."

Fidel immediately refused.

"Go and kill your brother, burn the granary, and plunder the outskirts of the city. Two hundred solidus."

"three hundred."

Autumn pretended to be stubborn.

"one hundred."

"Two hundred is two hundred."

Autumn suddenly softened and nodded quickly.

Fidel threw out a money bag containing fifty Venetian ducats.

"Solidus is not useful in your place. Replace it with the equivalent Venetian ducats."

Autumn took the bag of money and counted it.

"The deposit is one hundred, and the remaining fifty will be exchanged for our weapons and equipment. You can pick them up later."

Fidel exhaled a puff of smoke.

"When you succeed, come to me with your head and claim the remaining one hundred." "I'm afraid you value granaries and towns more than heads?"

Autumn chuckled.

"How much will you pay me if I capture the town and burn it all down?"

"Can you do it? You want to capture a heavily guarded town with less than a thousand people?"

Fidel shook his head in disdain.

"Haha, Captain, you don't know that the Aries have swept across the entire plateau, looting wantonly, and many refugees have fled here."

Autumn chuckled.

"As long as I have money, I can buy grain from other grain inspectors. As long as I have grain, I have manpower."

"As for the city defense...Excuse me, I am an Ottoman. I still have the clothes and armor from my military service. Maybe I can trick my way to the city gate?"

Fidel thought for a moment and threw out another purse, this time also containing fifty ducats.

"If you succeed, you can get two hundred ducats."

Autumn's smile became even more intense, and he took the purse and bowed exaggeratedly.

"Thank you very much, Captain!"

"Oh, by the way, I have something else to tell you."

Fidel smiled.

"We have already taken control of the locations of several of your camps. If you take the money and don't do the job, the other bandits will rush to divide up your inheritance."

Autumn opened his mouth.

"Oh, and Ottoman officials, under our operation, you are already the top thief. It is best not to expose yourself to their sight too early."

Fidel watched him with interest.

Autumn snorted, turned around and left.

When he reached the door, he turned around again and looked at Fidel.

"Over the past year or so, the money you've spent on inciting rebellion seems to be getting less and less."

"The last time I plundered a town for you, Lord Marcus had a great time."

Autumn's mouth curled up.

"The Sultan and the officials are out of money, but your finances seem to be gradually tightening in the long war of attrition..."

"Don't worry about things that are not your business. If you don't want the head anymore, just tell me. I just received the latest spring-loaded gun and can help you."

Fidel looked at him impassively.

"That's all, you will receive good news."

Autumn shrugged and left the captain's cabin.

……

Across the ocean, in the American continent, the Kingdom of Brazil.

In a valley, an expedition team was moving slowly towards the north. There were more than 20 people in the expedition team, including 18 Eastern Roman explorers armed with muskets and several local guides.

The expedition team crossed the mountains. The horses and donkeys carrying cargo were panting and looking a little tired.

"Master Yannis, there are words on the wall!"

One of the expedition members exclaimed, pointing to the mountain wall beside the road.

"In the name of God, this land belongs to one and only emperor, Isaac Palaiologos."

Giannis read it softly.

"This should be the traces left by the previous expeditions. This is probably the farthest point they reached."

Giannis smiled.

The middle-aged man with a beard was named Yannis Selimbria. This family was the illegitimate descendant of the Palaiologos family. Their ancestors could be traced back to Michael VIII and they had always served as the emperor’s personal butlers.

Giannis' grandfather and father served Manuel II, Ioannis VIII and Constantine XI successively. After the death of Constantine XI, Giannis became one of the stewards of the current Emperor Isaac III, and was ordered to manage several ancestral estates in the Peloponnese.

Later, the emperor carried out liberal reforms and no longer adopted the old ancient management methods. He rented out his many estates to agricultural capitalists to form rented farms. The efficiency was greatly improved and the annual net income gradually increased.

These old stewards were also well settled. After a period of study, they became officials in various colonies, responsible for managing the emperor's overseas territories.

In return, their salaries will increase exponentially and their offspring will also benefit greatly.

After the Kingdom of Brazil was divided into fifteen planning areas, Yannis was ordered to serve as the governor of the Crown of Rio, in charge of colonial, trade and exploration affairs.

At this time, the Kingdom of Brazil was almost an empty shell. Among the fifteen planned areas, only three were developed. Only the Crown Territory of Rio had built a good port, and there were more than three hundred Orthodox immigrants.

The Port of Rio is located in the southeast of Brazil. It is a must-pass place on the mature East Indian route. It allows East Indian merchant ships to avoid the Guinea calm zone, making trade more efficient and safer, and its strategic location is important.

It can be said that before the Governor of Brazil Theodosius took office, Giannis was the second most powerful person in the entire Kingdom of Brazil.

Before coming to the port of Rio, Giannis had a long talk with the emperor. In addition to opening up plantations and building ports, he also received a secret mission.

For this mission, he has sent out five groups of explorers, three of whom returned successfully, and the maps they brought back were becoming more and more detailed.

Giannis compared the map drawn by the expedition members with the sketch given to him by the emperor, and thought that the time had come. He left the port affairs to the bishop and personally led the team to organize the sixth expedition.

All the members of this expedition were the emperor's confidants, and many of them, like him, had served the Palaiologos family for generations and were loyal to the emperor.

Giannis took out his map and compass to check the direction, and he felt much more excited.

"Let's take a break here and drink some water."

Yannis said as he took the leather bag from the saddle and took a sip of the pale yellow liquid.

"Master Steward, do we still have to drink this stuff? It's terribly bitter."

A young team member drank the juice with a frown on his face.

"This is water soaked with Artemisia annua. It can resist some diseases. You must drink it!"

Giannis glared at him.

"There's not much malaria on the plateau, but it's always a good idea to drink some."

Giannis wiped his mouth, put the leather bag back on the saddle, took out another piece of dry biscuit and began to eat it.

Everyone rested for a while, filled their stomachs casually, and continued on their journey under the guidance of the guide.

The Eastern Roman colonists had always adopted an indifferent attitude towards the indigenous people of Brazil. They were neither in a hurry to assimilate nor to slaughter them at will. They usually used small gifts to gain their favor, signed protection agreements with them, and required them to provide food and labor for the immigrants.

In return, they received simple craft products such as glass balls and torn cotton coats.

The native who was walking in front suddenly turned around, muttered something, and gestured.

"What are they talking about?"

Giannis looked at the translator.

"They said that the last expedition only got here, but there was a mountain range ahead, which they did not cross."

The translator explained.

"Well, let's go there."

Giannis nodded, spurred his horse, and trotted forward.

The mountain is black in color and not very steep. There is a river next to it. Giannis led everyone around the edge of the mountain for a long time but still did not find anything special.

"Butler Giannis, what exactly are you looking for?"

The expedition members complained.

“There is nothing here, not even the indigenous people live here.”

Giannis looked at the setting sun, pursed his lips, and took out a map.

"How about we go back?"

The team members suggested.

"Stroll for a while longer and we'll go back tomorrow."

Giannis said calmly.

"This place is not far from Rio Port. We are not lost. We have enough food. There is no need to worry."

Giannis frowned and stared at the hills not far away, his eyes flickering.

This place is indeed deserted and there is nothing of value. Could it be that there was something wrong with the emperor's order?

Giannis quickly shook his head, pushing the thought out of his mind.

How could the great emperor make such a mistake? It must be that he did not do it well.

After searching for a while, they still found nothing. As it was getting dark, Giannis gave up the search and led everyone to camp by the river for the night.

It was quiet all around, with only the faint sounds of insects and birds.

With doubts and confusion, Giannis declined the explorers' invitation to drink and went to bed early.

It was another dreamless night. When the sun rose, Giannis slowly opened his eyes and slowly climbed out of bed.

The sunshine on the plateau is pure and warm, and the air around is fresh and natural. Giannis takes a deep breath and starts a new day.

The expedition members were feeding the horses when they saw Giannis wake up and greeted him.

Giannis smiled back, led out his own horse, and slowly walked toward the river.

This horse is an authentic Andalusian noble horse, given by the emperor himself. Giannis loves it very much and never allows anyone else to touch it, not even his son.

"Come on, Mammon, let's go taste the water here and see what it tastes like."

Giannis stroked the horse's mane, and the horse licked his palm affectionately.

The black horse was named Mammon, a name also given by the emperor, meaning the embodiment of wealth.

Giannis led Mammon to the creek and unbridled his horse.

Mammon lowered his head, licked the river water, raised his head to look at Giannis, and neighed a few times, as if expressing his joy.

"Do you like it? If you like it, drink more, hehe..."

Giannis patted it on the back and laughed.

The sunlight was shining, dyeing the river surface golden. Mammon was drinking water quietly, then he stepped on a stone and suddenly slipped.

Giannis cursed, leaned down, and picked up the rock.

The stone is black and seems ordinary.

At this moment, the sunlight shone on the black stone, revealing a little golden light.

Giannis' eyes narrowed and he swallowed the curse in his mouth.

He rubbed his eyes quickly and wiped the moss on the black stone with his clothes.

In the sunlight, more gold was revealed and sparkled.

……

In the summer of 1471, the Eastern Roman Empire explorer Yiannis Selimbria led an expedition north from the port of Rio and made a major discovery by the bank of a small river.

gold.

This gold has a layer of metal oxide on it, which makes it black, but the content is very high and the quantity is large.

Giannis was overjoyed and named this place Ouro Preto in ancient Latin.

This is the city of black gold.

(End of this chapter)