kingdom of nations

Chapter 316 Victory? (Part 2)
Only Portia, Albon, and Natia were in the room, so Portia didn't hide anything. "I said before that the Venetian fleet was setting sail, but it's possible that only my grandfather's few warships have set sail. He hasn't been able to convince the Venetian council yet. Venetians are merchants by nature, and they will never easily invest their huge efforts in a gamble with no clear outcome."

"Besides, they are also wary of the nearby Roman Church," Portia's reply said, adding that the ships her grandfather sent to the battlefield might not actually fight, only offering Nicosia some supplies. But now things are different. "I have sent someone to write back to my grandfather and tell him that I have given birth to Cesare's heir."

In the previous siege, the Byzantine army was completely unable to conquer the fortified city of Nicosia. Now, if the Venetian council is willing to use their fleet, they can undoubtedly gain victory and benefits as a third party in this war. They don't even need to fight the Byzantine Empire's fleet; they only need to destroy the ships docked in the port.

Although the goddess of victory would mostly side with the Byzantine Empire, for those soldiers and generals, it meant fighting far from their homeland in a strange new land. Don't forget, the empire hadn't sent a governor for over a decade. They didn't know their comrades or their enemies, and had no intention of establishing themselves on this land. They only thought about quickly capturing cities, looting wealth, men and women, killing the families and prisoners of the rebels, and then sailing back to Constantinople to receive Manuel I's reward.

If their retreat is blocked, they will panic regardless of whether they have the upper hand on the battlefield.

Albon couldn't help but exhale a long breath of cold air. He simply couldn't believe that these two women would do something so shocking!
If Natia's claim that Cesar's first child was a boy can only be described as a helpless act under immense pressure.

Portia had been deceiving both sides of the war from the very beginning.

She told the Nicosians, "Don't be afraid, Venice has sent a fleet. If you hold out for a week, the siege of Nicosia will be broken without a fight." At the same time, she told the Venetians, "Don't worry, the Byzantines can't possibly break through the great city of Nicosia. The Nicosians are incredibly loyal to my husband. If you are willing to come, you will get the richest reward with the least effort."

“But don’t worry, Mr. Albon,” Portia said with a smile, glancing at her daughter who was fast asleep in the silver cradle. “My grandfather should have already persuaded those councilors in the Venetian council chamber. As a Venetian, I believe those greedy fellows will not let such a good opportunity pass them by.”

Besides the 1170-year-old feud between the Venetians and Manuel I, the papal excommunication in Cyprus had become meaningless. After Nadia produced the orthodox ecclesiastical marriage certificate, Manuel I could not possibly demand that his Patriarch of Constantinople issue a similar document denying the marriage—because that would be tantamount to openly declaring his refusal to acknowledge the value of his own life and labeling him an ungrateful wretch.

“One week,” Albon finally said in a dry voice, like a brush rubbing against a rusty cutting board.

“It might be ten days, but no later than that. And as long as they see the sails rising from the sea, that will be enough,” Portia said.

A week or ten days is neither a long nor a short time for either the attacking or defending side.

If the defending side has a strong will and sufficient supplies, it is not difficult to hold out for such a long time.

Albon remained deeply worried.

But then, many more unexpected events occurred quietly and inexplicably.

The Byzantine fleet docked in the port did not participate in the attack on Cyprus. Their duty seemed to be merely to transport these soldiers to Cyprus and then stand by and watch. In fact, apart from Nicosia and the surrounding areas, the rest of the country maintained an eerie silence. The army's generals, after drinking heavily, mocked the Cypriots for their opportunism and double-dealing.

"They're just a bunch of useless cowards!" The fleet commander slammed his silver cup down on the table, eliciting a burst of laughter from the others. Indeed, the Cypriots resented the Empire's indifference towards them, and the people of Constantinople were just as disgusted by the Cypriots' greed and cowardice. They hoped to obtain gold, silk, olive oil, and wine from this wealthy territory, yet they were unwilling to shed blood and sacrifice their lives for the Cypriots.

Every time Cypriot envoys came to Constantinople to plead with Manuel I for a governorship, even if they accepted bribes, they would only laugh at them in private. They knew perfectly well that the decade-long hiatus was more about forcing the Cypriots to submit to them and weakening the power of the local nobles. If they were to suffer heavy losses in their battles with the Saracens, the Byzantine Empire would naturally benefit, just like a hedgehog whose quills had been removed by the Saracens, leaving vultures to feast on its carcass.

But this delicate situation was disrupted by a crusader knight. Not only Manuel I, but also those around him had long been dissatisfied. The general gestured to his servants to pour him more wine, while grabbing a piece of rock sugar from the silver plate and chewing it in large bites.

These rock candies, which had been arranged to resemble crystal palaces and gardens, shattered and scattered everywhere when he grabbed them. The eyes of the people drinking and making merry with him lit up, and they quickly grabbed a few pieces.

"Take it, take it." The general, who usually counted the number of rock candies every day, was unusually generous at this moment: "Once we take back Cyprus, you can have as many as you want!"

King Manuel I had promised him that there was no better job than this one, which was safe, comfortable, and highly profitable.

Of course, rock sugar has many more uses at banquets than it can be eaten directly. Before long, another delicacy drizzled with golden syrup was served.

The people, already seven or eight parts drunk, could hardly resist the steaming, honey-scented delicacy. They immediately reached out and took their portions after the general, leaving the rest for him. The general took a bite, swallowing it almost without chewing. But in the last few bites, he unconsciously chewed a couple of times and found the sweetness in his mouth a little strange. However, this slight peculiarity was quickly masked by the pure and intense sweetness of the syrup.

He examined the remaining portion carefully under the candlelight, finding nothing amiss: a pale yellow flatbread, golden syrup, and garnished with olives and raisins. He glanced at the people present, noticing they were only slightly tipsy, showing no signs of vomiting or nosebleeds, and relaxed. He then set the rest aside, ignoring it further. Soon, the flatbread was devoured by a servant—throwing it away was out of the question, and even the crumbs were eaten by the dogs under the table.

Before long, they entered a state of lightheadedness, and no one cared. This is what happens when you're drunk, and it's exactly what they were after all.

The general opened his eyes in a daze. The lights shifted, like gold, silver, and pearls. He reached out, and the glittering particles spun in his hand, but he couldn't grasp them. He ordered his attendants to try to catch them, but they were gone. Even the rude naval officers had vanished.

The table was glittering, piled high with jewels, silks, and—a crown, and a woman. “Theodora!” he exclaimed. He had only seen Theodora two or three times, yet he couldn’t forget her… There was no woman more beautiful than her: “Aren’t you with the Emperor?”

He forgot that Theodora was "dead." He watched as the emperor's concubines approached him and wrapped their arms around his neck. He felt both fear and longing. As soon as he raised his hand, he saw that the emperor was wearing a purple-gold silk robe, which was adorned with pearls.

“I am yours,” said Theodora, “and the throne is yours too.”

He then remembered that he was now the emperor. He completely disregarded the absurdity of the situation and felt extremely exhilarated—but at the same time, a sense of fear arose within him. He could become the emperor, but what about the other generals? He had to kill them!
He pushed Theodora aside and drew the short sword from his side.

……

Everyone in this cabin was immersed in their own different fantasies, wanting to be emperors, beasts, or devils... They were originally cruel, violent, and ruthless people. Without the constraints of reality, they were even more unrestrained. The cramped cabin meant that no one could escape or hide. Besides, even the dogs ate the poisoned bread—they barked and tore at it, and even when they were cut in half, they still chewed on human flesh and blood...

Such a scene was taking place on every Byzantine ship docked in the port. Even the perpetrators couldn't help but cover their eyes when they saw the chaotic scene in the cabins.

The Byzantines were very adept at using poison, and they were extremely rigorous in their defenses against it, even going so far as to harbor large numbers of Isaacs, simply because they could serve as researchers, defenders, and test subjects for poison.

The village through which the perpetrator passed had once been the site of a terrible sin, where a demon had lured the entire village into madness—in the past, those who exhibited symptoms of dancing, convulsions, and incoherent speech—numbering over three hundred, would have been burned at the stake.

Fortunately, their lord at that time was already Saint César, who stopped the priests and told them that it was very likely that the epilepsy was caused by toxins hidden in the spoiled wheat.

You could call the people of this era ignorant or stubborn, but their ignorance and stubbornness are based on a lack of understanding. As long as you can explain things to them, such as forceps or epilepsy, they won't immediately panic and categorize them as witchcraft. Forceps look like a strange kitchen utensil, or even more like a torture device. Epilepsy is even easier to explain, mainly because the condition has been around for a long time and people are very familiar with it.

And illnesses caused by "bad food" are even more common. Who hasn't eaten roadside weeds or mushrooms and suffered from vomiting and diarrhea?

Now someone is telling them that the same thing happens to them: they are screaming and jumping around until they collapse from exhaustion. It's because there are bad "wheat grains" in the flour, just like those "bad grass and bad mushrooms." It's a pity, but as long as they don't eat them, they can avoid the symptoms. They can understand this.

The tax collectors sent by César even taught them how to distinguish "bad flour"—they thought they would collect a large sum of money for this instruction—and the farmers were prepared. In any case, they were not burned to death, and more than a hundred families were saved. For this, they would be willing to take away all their food as long as they could survive the winter.

But the Venetians didn't take a single bean. When the farmers' representatives asked anxiously, they laughed and said, "Thank your lord; he has already paid for it on your behalf."

These tax collectors did receive salaries, unlike in the time of Isaac, when their profits came entirely from the people's pockets.

So when they heard that someone was buying up spirits—though the intention wasn't explicitly stated, some clever people had already guessed—they subtly inquired: "Do you want some of this 'bad flour' that can cause epilepsy, coma, and madness?"
Yes, of course I want it.

(End of this chapter)