1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 40 Albanian War

The mountain road is winding, and the overlapping hills block the view of passers-by.

In autumn, warm, moist winds blow in from the Mediterranean, sweeping away the hot and dry summer.

It is located on the eastern coast of the Adriatic Sea, on the western side of the Balkan Peninsula, and is separated from the Apennine Peninsula by only a short section of the Strait of Otranto. It is the gateway from Italy to the Balkan Peninsula.

There are many rivers here, which have carved out valleys and basins suitable for farming among the mountains.

The terrain here is steep, with many passes, making it easy to defend but difficult to attack.

This is the mountainous country, the black eagle of the Balkans, Albania.

At the foot of the Kruye Mountains, a river flows quietly, and an army marches along the river, heading west.

They were poorly equipped, wearing cloth clothes and straw sandals. Some soldiers did not even have standard weapons and set out on the expedition with just a pitchfork.

In the absence of sufficient bows and arrows, javelins, blowguns, and even slingshots can be used by these mountain people to defend their country.

They knew that the enemies they were about to face were Latin knights and mercenaries, equipped with firearms and cannons, wearing the best armor and holding the sharpest swords.

The Latin navy could blockade Albania's maritime trade routes at any time and transport a steady stream of supplies for the soldiers to consume.

This seems to be a war that cannot be won.

But the mountain people were not afraid.

They sang and marched to the battlefield, looking up and seeing the Black Eagle flag fluttering in front of them.

They knew that their leader, the great Skanderbeg, was under that flag, leading his people.

"Captain, the Venetians have rejected our ultimatum and insist on taking the city of Dania for themselves."

In the center of the team, Skanderbeg, who was riding a horse, nodded and looked straight ahead, without much commotion.

The result was already expected.

"Anything else?"

The adjutant quickly handed a letter to Skanderbeg.

"This is a letter from Grand Duke Isaac Palaiologos of Soult, which foresees possible military action by the Venetians, but the secretary who sorted out the letters for you did not present it to you."

"He thinks it's pure alarmism."

"I reviewed it again and thought I should show it to you."

Skanderbeg frowned and took the letter.

"Let the previous secretary go back home tomorrow and replace him with another one."

"already done."

Skanderbeg nodded.

"The letter mentioned that if Venice launched an attack, the prince of Constantinople would provide us with support. I wonder how he wants to provide support?"

The adjutant remained silent, he didn't know either.

"We have to rely on ourselves to solve the problem. All outsiders just want to take a piece of the fat meat from us."

Skanderbeg remained calm and clamped his legs against the horse's belly.

"Hurry up the team! Get to Ishmi City before dark!"

The team accelerated, and when the last ray of sunset disappeared over the distant hills, Skanderbeg's central army, totaling 6000 people, arrived at the city of Ishmi.

The vanguard troops have taken control of the city, detained the wavering city lord, prepared meals, and waited for their compatriots.

Skanderbeg did not enter the city, but stayed in the camp outside the city with his soldiers.

As night fell, Skanderbeg, after a quick dinner, finished his inspection and returned to the camp to sit alone.

He took out a pen and wrote down what he saw and heard today.

"Venice, as expected, rejected our terms. They are determined to fight us."

"We had just ended the war with the Ottomans, and the country was in a state of depression. We had no food, no weapons, and no artillery."

"This land where our ancestors have lived for generations has attracted the covetousness of countless people."

"Greeks, Romans, Germans, Ottomans, Latins..."

"Our intelligence system was too slow and didn't react at all. But it was the prince of Constantinople who sensed the crisis."

"Help? How?"

"They can't even protect themselves..."

After writing down these words, Skanderbeg rubbed his sore eyes and burned the words he had just written to ashes on the candle.

"Rather than abusing alcohol, I would rather write something to comfort myself and relieve my sorrow."

"But remember to burn it after you finish writing it, leaving no trace."

This is what the Ottoman instructor said when he was serving in the Janissary Corps.

Then Skanderbeg spread out the map and began to mark it.

On the map, red dots symbolizing the Ottoman army are densely packed throughout the northeast.

There are also many blue dots symbolizing the Venetian army, scattered along the coastline, centered on several coastal fortresses.

"Commander! An Italian in the city wants to see you. He claims to be here to help us."

The personal soldiers pushed open the tent and came forward to report.

"This is his knife."

The bodyguard handed over a well-maintained scimitar, and Skanderbeg took it.

It is made of fine materials and has exquisite craftsmanship. It is a good Damascus scimitar.

The blade is painted with the coat of arms of the Palaiologos family.

"In the name of God, do as I please."

Skanderbeg quietly read the Greek words on the blade.

"Gift from Isaac Palaiologos."

Number:006.

Skanderbeg waved.

"Let him in!"

After a while, an Italian man with a frivolous smile walked in. His rebellious yet smooth temperament made him look like a common mercenary leader in Italy.

He bowed so low that he nearly dropped his hat.

"Hello, dear Archduke, my name is Maruna, and I am here to assist you by order of His Highness Isaac Palaiologos after you were invaded by Venice."

"Your Highness Isaac has appointed me the Baron of Cherle. You can call me that. I like this title."

Maruna smiled.

Skanderbeg took out Isaac's letter. "Can your highness predict the future?"

“He knows history and can use it to infer world events.”

Skanderbeg threw the scimitar back into Maruna's hands.

"Nice knife, well maintained. Do you like your Highness very much?"

"Who doesn't like a generous and wise master?"

Skanderbeg smiled and handed the letter to Maruna.

"Your good prince promised to help me in the letter. I wonder how you plan to maintain his credibility?"

Maruna quickly read the Latin letter and curled his lips.

"First, His Highness did not explicitly offer to help you, he only expressed the intention."

"Second, it's you who's asking for help, so please don't act so arrogant."

The guard on the side glared at him and was about to draw his scimitar.

Skanderbeg stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"I believe that your Highness did not ask you to come all the way here just to have a verbal fight with me, right?"

"I have recruited eight hundred mercenaries in Italy and another thousand in North Africa. If the price is right, we will fight for you."

"The strait is blocked by Venetian ships. How can you get across?"

Maruna sneered.

"My mother is Venetian, and I know exactly what they are like."

Are you kidding? That's the noble Republic of Venice that is fighting with you and selling equipment to you at the same time.

"There is a lack of consensus within Venice regarding this war. We can use this opportunity to deploy our troops."

Seeing that Skanderbeg didn't say anything, Maruna had to tell him his plan.

"My eight hundred mercenaries have already arrived in the Black Mountain region. As long as you give the order, they will rush to the war immediately."

"I don't have much money."

Skanderbeg spoke slowly.

"Well..."

Maruna had a professional smile on his face.

"We can talk slowly."

……

Atlantic Ocean, Governorate of Bijagos, Dangiro Island.

Unlike La Palma, under the governance of the Count of Gosia, Porto Dangelo was like a pirate den.

The dilapidated docks, the bizarre architectural styles, the sewage-filled streets, the dirty and messy taverns and brothels highlight a casual and natural atmosphere.

The only official buildings that looked presentable were the Governor's Palace and the Colonial Office.

At present, there are about 1,500 people in the Governorate of Bijegos, all of whom are desperate criminals, businessmen or prostitutes who come here to do business.

There are not many farmers and fishermen on this island. Most of them are adventurers who go to West Africa to explore and exchange their lives for money.

Here, food depends almost entirely on trade with native Africans.

These adventurers were registered with the Greek Guinea Company and the Soult Colonial Office. If their adventure was successful, they had to pay certain taxes and sell their goods to the Greek Guinea Company first.

If you fail, you naturally don't have to pay taxes anymore, but all your property on the island will be confiscated.

Tax evasion is of course a common occurrence. In fact, Earl William’s main job in the past six months has been to combat illegal smuggling.

Once discovered, they will be banned from entering any supply point under the Colonial Office for life, and all property on the island will be confiscated.

Count Gosia formed a gendarmerie based on the old sailors who stayed on the Grand Duke of Morea to deal with all kinds of disobedience in the governor's district.

Gosia also had several local youths taught to speak Greek, and they were specifically responsible for dealing with tribal chiefs in the Guinea-Bissau region.

Based on these people, Count Gosia is preparing to form an indigenous vassal army, named the Bijegos Guard.

The islanders respected and feared the rugged Count of Gothia and did not dare to act rashly.

Apart from prohibiting tax evasion, the Governor of Gothia did not actually make many laws. Murder, robbery, and sex trade were commonplace.

The only thing is, you are not allowed to say bad things about the Palaiologos family.

Last month some drunken captains from Genoa mocked Ioannis VIII for his inability to pay his debts.

When the Governor of Gothia heard about it, he took the gendarmerie and tied their heads to horses' tails and paraded them through the streets, and confiscated all their ships and slaves.

From then on, no one dared to anger this arrogant earl.

When Isaac arrived, he immediately severely criticized Count Gosia's behavior.

I don’t care about anything else. This is how it was in the early days of the colony. Chaos is very normal, but the sanitation problem must be solved.

Those who contracted malaria and other unknown diseases had to lie in bed.

Isaac got everything ready, picked up his latest batch of income, and prepared to leave.

Gosia reported that an old Portuguese captain sailed eastward along the Gulf of Guinea and found several small islands with very high mountains that towered into the clouds.

Others laughed at the old captain's wild ideas, but Earl William insisted on going to investigate.

After purchasing the captain's charts, William set out a week ago with three caravels.

Therefore, Isaac was unable to see him and was unable to convey his brother's concern to this distant wanderer.

Going further south, malaria would be fatal, and Isaac could not take that risk again.

On June 1447, 6, Isaac ended his western tour, bid farewell to Count Gosia, and returned by ship.

Isaac looked at the port that was getting farther and farther away and the flags flying in the sky.

Count Gosia was quite creative. He set his flag as a black man holding gold, with the coat of arms of the Palaiologos family painted in the upper left corner, symbolizing subordinate status.

From a distance, it looked like a black man kneeling and offering a gift to the Palaiologos family.

Isaac looked at Count Gosia, who was waving desperately at the dock, and smiled.

The rich West African coast has always been on Isaac's heart.

See you next time, I don’t know when.

Isaac walked to the bow and looked at the waves in the distance.

I'm going back to Europe, where the smoke of war is burning,

Go to a feast of war.

(End of this chapter)