kingdom of nations

Chapter 343 Departure (Part 2)
The gates of Damascus on Arrasa Road were slowly opened, bathed in the brilliant morning light, under a cloudless sky. As far as the eye could see, the grey-white road seemed to lead straight to the heavens in people's hearts.

The first to emerge were not any soldiers or kings, but monks and priests who transcended the mundane world. They represented the supreme glory and supreme authority of God and came from churches and monasteries such as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Church of the Temple, the Church of St. James, and the Church of St. Paul. They gathered together, each carrying their most precious relics, incense burners, and icons.

The most striking item is the enormous cross—a jewel-encrusted, gilded cross that is actually a reliquary containing sacred objects—it is as large as a real cross (instrument of torture) and requires several monks to carry it.

Another relic, whose identity is currently unknown, was folded up and hidden inside Cesar's armor.

These relics are genuine, not the kind of cheap imitations that are just made up. Unfortunately, Cesar could not feel the kind of happiness that Heraclius and Baldwin had described to him.

If he had to say it, he seemed to be in an invisible river, like a current or a solid riverbed.

He was swept up by them, and also contained by them, while being swept up and contained at the same time. The feeling was indescribably wonderful, and even made him forget everything around him for a moment, including the venerable Mr. Thomas—who walked past him with his head held high, wearing a pure white holy robe, chest out, holding a peculiar holy object. When he looked closely, he almost shouted out, "Isn't this the mop and bucket I used to clean the Church of the Holy Sepulchre more than ten years ago?"

At that time, he was still unsure whether there was any power beyond the mundane world, which is why he decided to practice asceticism in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Firstly, so that more people could witness his practice, and secondly, so that he could become familiar with this place where he might undergo trials alone with Baldwin in the future.

When he was welcomed back to Fort Sainte-Croix, although his bucket and mop were taken away, he thought it was just a temporary gimmick.

Just like in his world, many celebrities who are pursued by many can only be described as having a fleeting moment of fame, while fashion trends are always changing in an instant.

When he was excommunicated, he even thought that the priests of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre would immediately sever ties with him, and that he might claim that he had been tempted and deceived by the devil, a common occurrence among the relatives and friends of those excommunicated.

Unexpectedly, Thomas not only physically secured the bucket and mop in the reliquary, but today he brazenly took them out, carrying the mop in one hand and the bucket in the other, walking through the procession without realizing how ridiculous he looked—more like a servant than a priest.

Because the mop and bucket were too oddly shaped, he couldn't make a reliquary for them. Instead, he made a shell of similar shape to encase them, and then gilded and silvered it, and inlaid it with gemstones.

Some pilgrims who had just come from Iceland or even more remote places were puzzled. He asked his friends in a low voice, "Why are these two relics so strange? One looks like an upside-down helmet, and the other looks like a broken spear."

His friend wasn't quite sure either, until a pilgrim from Bethlehem who knew a great deal about buckets and mops explained it to him. Then it dawned on him: "Then I'll have to buy a fragment of the relic to take back," he declared confidently. Pilgrims had seen many dead saints and their belongings. "But this is a living saint, you know. Have you ever seen a living saint? I certainly haven't, so no matter how much it costs, he has to find a way to get one to enshrine in his church."

But such thoughts were quickly stopped. "Forget it," a pilgrim complained. "Almost every day people come here to buy fragments of these two relics to take back, but look at that mop, not a single strip of cloth is missing, not a single tear is missing."

The small bucket was completely intact and spotless.

That guy must have seventeen or eighteen buckets of fragments and fifteen or sixteen mop strips hidden behind the reliquary, waiting for us to buy them. If you ask me, you'd be better off giving the priest guarding the reliquary some money so he'd allow you to pray a little longer before those buckets and mops. I've heard many people have been saved because of it; their illnesses have been cured, and their spirits have been strengthened.

There was another woman who people said was possessed, her soul imprisoned, and her body taken over by the devil. As a result, her family spent a lot of money to lead her to these two objects, let her touch the mop and kiss the bucket, and she suddenly recovered, really recovered—she laughed hysterically, and then regained her senses, sincerely thanking the priest who led her to the sacred objects and her relatives and friends.

She was carried in, but walked out on her own.

I and hundreds of others witnessed this scene firsthand; it is absolutely true.

"Oh dear, if it were me, I would definitely try to snatch a strip of cloth from that mop." The bucket was made of wood with iron hoops, and unless one was a blessed knight, an ordinary person probably wouldn't be able to reach out and break off a piece.

But the strips of cloth on the mop are very likely.

"Ha! These priests are cunning. Even those patrons who have spent a lot of money can only have their lips kissed and their hands wiped. The rest of their bodies are still firmly in their grasp."

The pilgrim described it vividly, even gesturing to the priest's posture—that is, they would tuck the mop's cloth strip under their armpits... then hold the edge of the bucket with both hands, pointing the opening towards the pilgrim.

Cesar unconsciously took a deep breath; the scene was just too embarrassing.

Richard, standing next to him, grinned broadly, showing off his white teeth.

Fortunately, this ordeal did not last long, since they were walking out of the city following behind the priests and the relics, and the surrounding gossip was quickly left behind.

Later, although some people brought up buckets and mops, the discussion didn't escalate to that point.

King Frederick I remained silent, leading César to believe he hadn't heard. Unexpectedly, before the official departure the next day, Frederick sent a servant to demand a lock of hair from César. César's lips twitched slightly, a rare occurrence. The servant was none other than Frederick I's eldest son, Henry the Younger. He looked at César calmly and nonchalantly said, "Give me a lock, so I can take it back to my father."

Cesar was still unwilling to accept this and struggled on: "I was recently excommunicated by the church."

"The Isaacs condemned Jesus for blasphemy," Henry said dryly. Cesare was stunned. Through his interactions with these monarchs and lords, he discovered that the higher the position, the less they cared about the church—especially the Roman church's coercion and threats. Their practices were exactly the same as those of monarchs and rulers in another world. Religion was not a shackle on them, but a means for them to rule the people.

He had discussed this point with Baldwin and Heraclius, and during this expedition, he met Richard and Philip II, and he tentatively inquired about their views on the Church—after all, the Church in this world is not the Church in another world, and there are indeed supernatural powers in this world.

According to ordinary people's thinking, they should be more reverent and obedient to the church.

Moreover, they had heard before that there were indeed cases of knights or priests who, after being excommunicated by the church, gradually fell into depravity and found it difficult to recover.

Richard shook his head, rubbed his beeswax, and his red curly hair, shiny as copper wire, swayed like a brightly colored tuft of grass. "I remember when I was a child, I did say some blasphemous things and do some arrogant things."

My teacher at the time was also a devout priest, and he admonished me that I would lose the favor of the saints because of this.

But as you saw later, I passed the selection ceremony just as smoothly, and my saint gave me greater strength and agility than others. If I am not devout, doesn't that mean those who are not as devout as me are even less devout? Or that the saint is a fool?

However, what puzzles me is that there have indeed been knights around me who gradually lost their power after being excommunicated; my father once visited one of them.”

Richard pursed his lips.

He recalled the scene, and in fact, it was less a whim during a hunt and more a premeditated act of spying.

The war between papal and royal power has never ceased, whether overt or covert, intense or protracted. Henry II was even excommunicated, but he never lost the favor of the saints, only obviously weaker and more unstable than before. The Church's explanation is that this was because he was still wearing the crown, so God was willing to give him a chance to repent.

But that knight had become a madman.

Philip II, being a more cautious man, did not directly cite any concrete examples, but rather vaguely stated that it might be related to the firmness of one's faith and the purity of one's will. In the end, it was Henry the Younger who revealed the answer to this mystery.

His father was the man who slaughtered over a thousand priests like livestock at a coronation ceremony—even if few of them were blessed, and they were just ordinary clergy, it was still shocking enough.

At that time, he and his mother were worried that lightning might strike his father directly on the head to punish his tyranny, but it did not. He did not even face excommunication. The coronation ceremony was declared unsuccessful, so he had to be crowned a second time and donated a large sum of money to the church for this.

But can the lives of more than a thousand priests be bought with money?
Henry smiled rather strangely, “When they excommunicated you, you were just an ordinary knight, right?”
Although you have been favored by the saints and gained immense power, becoming invincible on the battlefield and deeply trusted in the castle, even earning the title of Shield of the Holy City, you have lost your country, your army, and your people. In fact, you are utterly alone in the political arena and within the church. Your only support is King Baldwin of Arathi Basin, who is as young as you.

If you ever have the chance to go to Rome and look through the register of those excommunicated, you'll find something very similar to you: no birth, no background, or something you once had but lost; young, pure, pious, and even, "Little Henry lowered his voice," "somewhat ignorant. Do you understand what I mean?"

After saying that, he turned and left. Although he admired Cesar, he could not discuss this topic with them for long—it was indeed a rather dangerous topic.

Baldwin fell silent, perhaps because of the reason why those cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church dared to do as they pleased—he raised his arm, looking at the fading scars and red spots, and then spoke slowly.

“I believe that God exists. He is watching over us at all times.”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

After traveling about five miles (twenty kilometers), the four monarchs and their important ministers gathered again. In the already slightly hot July weather, they raised their glasses to drink chilled wine and kissed the reliquary outside the gleaming True Cross. "See you in Damascus!" Frederick I shouted first, then turned and walked out of the tent without looking back.

With the help of his attendants, he mounted his horse and galloped away swiftly, passing by his army and monks.

Richard and Philip II would then travel a little further with Baldwin and Cesare, crossing the Sea of ​​Galilee, and part ways on the south side of the Valley of Hula—originally earlier, but Richard insisted on seeing the bridge Cesare had built during the raid on Saladin's army.

"I thought they had taken it apart."

“In fact, after our last trip from here to Damascus, Saladin did send men to dismantle the bridge, but they were stopped by the surrounding Saracen tribes.”

"It was stopped?"

"They want this bridge too. Their merchants need it so they can travel directly from the east bank of the Jordan River to Nareza and Arazar.

With this bridge, transporting goods will be so much easier for them. If it were just a pontoon bridge built by ships, they might have dismantled it, but this is a sturdy bridge, and they can't bear to part with it.

“These Saracens are really short-sighted,” Philip II couldn’t help but say.

Are they short-sighted? Not at all. These merchants, carrying goods purchased from places like Apollo and Damascus, travel to places like Bethlehem and Arrassa to exchange for sugar, salt, oil, and wheat. When they return to their tribes—or even just once—their tribes will not go hungry in the following winter, and the elderly and children will not die.

For these precious lives, what does it matter if we are ridiculed and insulted?

This bridge undoubtedly impressed Richard once again. When he heard that the bridge was not only the work of the laborers, but also that the knights had gone into the water to secure the wooden stakes, he couldn't help but praise it repeatedly, almost calling it another miracle.

Meanwhile, Philip II was carefully studying the situation—if he were to order his knights to do the work they considered only for the lower classes—don't forget that his kingdom was often called the Île-de-France because the Seine River flowed through it, and he was intimately familiar with rivers and bridges—and by this time people had already learned how to artificially create dams or floods to facilitate marching or to thwart enemy invasions.

Therefore, he even disregarded the objections of his ministers, removed his armor, and jumped into the river wearing only his close-fitting shirt, to observe how the base was fixed in place.
Neither Cesar nor Baldwin stopped them. For a general and a king, their actions were commendable, but they inevitably had to share Baldwin's hardships upon arrival, that is, they were forced to drink those bitter, astringent, thick, and heavy herbs.

"Why don't you send a priest to treat me?"

Richard couldn't help but complain, while Philip II shook his head. It was already the second day, and they had another bowl of herbal soup in the morning to make sure the illness wouldn't relapse—it was just as unpleasant to drink, even more so, because as soon as they woke up, their tongues hadn't even tasted a hint of sweetness before they were greeted with bitterness…

But just as Cesar promised, their fever subsided before it even started, and they returned to normal the next day, though they were still a little weak. But as long as they ate and slept well for a couple of days, it wouldn't cause any problems.

Philip II was not as physically strong as Richard and Cesare. Although he did not contract leprosy, he was born to his father at an advanced age, so his physique was not robust, and he was often sick. He even needed two priests to stay with him at all times to treat him, but their treatment lasted only a short time. Philip II once suspected that they had been bribed or were not devout enough. After hearing Cesare's explanation, he realized that the priests could only treat the parts of the body that they could see or understand.

If you have a fever, try to bring the temperature down; if a bone is broken, set it; if the skin is torn, try to mend it—they can make you feel better temporarily, but they don't really understand the underlying problems. So, if there's organ bleeding or you contract a plague, you need a more powerful priest to treat you—the so-called "miracle cures miracles." If that power isn't enough, then the patient can only wait to die. "What were all those kings thinking?!" Richard exclaimed. "Didn't they notice this oversight?"

“Let me put it this way,” Cesar said calmly, putting away the cups placed in front of them, “if you don’t have my explanation, or if you don’t believe my explanation at all, when you are afflicted by illness, the monks’ treatment or prayers can instantly relieve all your pain and symptoms.”

Compared to so-called doctors who make you drink bitter herbal soups, perform bloodletting and circumcision, and restrict your diet and bed rest, wouldn't you find it annoying and unsatisfactory?

Philip II paused and nodded. Indeed, not to mention a monarch, even a merchant with a little wealth would choose a priest. They didn't understand the situation and could only make decisions based on their feelings. At that time, those who possessed medical skills and knowledge were mostly priests, so they would naturally push things in a way that was to their advantage.

As for whether people can truly be healed and liberated, what does that have to do with them?
Richard laughed too. Compared to Philip II, he preferred to wander the streets and alleys and had more contact with ordinary people. He had also learned a lot about the tricks the priests played in private—they fooled the people, but they were not negligent in their dealings with themselves and those at the top of the pyramid. In fact, the priests of the Roman Catholic Church did not just pray. Those who could become bishops, archbishops, or even popes all had a certain level of knowledge in medicine.

It was practically an open secret, though it couldn't be spoken of aloud, but many high-ranking officials and nobles still requested them to prepare the ointment.

For example, during the selection ceremony, drugs that could improve concentration were commonly used by nobles to increase their children's chances of being chosen.

“But for medicine, this is still a dead end; it is still heading towards a decadent end.” César handed the cup to the servant and went back to the tent.

"When a doctrine is banned, persecuted, or despised, no matter how many people know that it is innocent, useful, and can bring a new future to mankind, it will inevitably be shut out, and may even become brittle, yellow, and eventually crumble into dust like a piece of paper that has been sealed for a long time."

From what I've seen, even compared to ancient Rome, modern medicine isn't progressing, it's regressing.

Even if some bishops and abbots, or reclusive scholars, are still studying medicine, would they dare to openly recruit students? Would they dare to trust students? Would they dare to teach them? Every word they utter, every piece of writing, every material and piece of knowledge they trade or give away would be evidence of their crimes.

It has been proven that everyone, regardless of their background, has enemies. And when an enemy wants to vent their anger or gain undue advantage, do they really consider the enemy's importance to medicine?

Even in another world, there would be instances where an emperor kills the only person who could save him.

For them—especially those with immense power—nothing in the world is unique; if you can look for it, you can find it—they would rather take risks than suffer any injustice.

"In that case, medicine will ultimately become, like mathematics, a plaything held in the palm of some people's hands."

But since it's just a plaything, how many people would be willing to invest their time, energy, or even their lives? They wouldn't—without a systematic theory, sufficient teaching staff, and meticulously written textbooks, medicine would eventually become like magic, curses, or secret arts—a kind of 'trick.' And even if others could obtain those incomplete parts, how much could they truly understand or master through this kind of blind-man-elephant, tube-and-leaf learning method?
The result is that his medical skills are ultimately seen as those of a attention-seeking clown, further eroding public trust in medicine. It's a vicious cycle, but now that it's formed, it's difficult to change.

These words made everyone present twitch, except for Richard, who was completely bewildered and could be temporarily excluded.

Baldwin was almost certain that he had contracted leprosy not by accident, but by human error, because Cesar had explained to him how leprosy was transmitted and how it affected the human body. He believed that the same thing could happen to his children or others.

Although he now has means of isolation and defense—but to be honest, what if he didn't have Cesar by his side, what if he didn't have a doctor who was highly sensitive to and familiar with those elusive epidemics, even though Cesar never explicitly told him—he knew that Cesar possessed some knowledge that did not belong to this world.

But if this knowledge continues to be labeled as heresy and forbidden to circulate, what about his successor, King Allazarus? He might only have two choices: accept the church's demands and hand over Allazarus, or refuse the church's demands and wait for his child or himself to suffer a fatal curse...

Philip II had even more to consider.

The church's move was solely for the purpose of monopolizing the market. As kings who frequently issued franchises, production permits, or passes, no one understood the meaning of monopoly better than them.

The church was able to do this initially because most of those who received the blessing at that time were priests.

The first priest who could instantly heal a bleeding wound without leaving a trace was already a saint three years after his death, while the first knight to be "blessed" would only appear twenty or thirty years later. This was not the situation the Church wanted to see—nowadays, very few people know who he is, too many people are vying for the title, and the Church simply does not recognize him...

But who wouldn't want extraordinary power? As more and more knights came to the church to pray, and more and more were blessed, the church, seeing it couldn't contain the trend, developed the entire process of knighthood. Yes, before this, knighthood was very arbitrary; usually, a lord or another knight would simply tap the person on the shoulder with their sword or whip them hard across the neck, then bestow a weapon, and that was it—they could declare the other person a knight.

Only after the church intervened did the entire knighting ceremony become exceptionally solemn and serious.

The night before, those awaiting ordination were required to bathe, not only to cleanse their bodies but also to remove impurities from their souls. They then changed into white undergarments and a red robe. The white undergarments symbolized purity, while the red robe signified fighting for Christ.

After bathing and changing clothes, the consecrated person goes to the church, places their weapons and armor on the altar, kneels before the altar for the entire night, prays to Jesus Christ and the many saints, and further focuses on spiritual purification.

At dawn, a bishop or priest would come to celebrate Mass for the knight, and afterwards, if the knight was a prince or the heir to a great lord, he would also be greeted with a religious procession…

You could even see this as a performance, except that it's a performance for the church lords and the knights' own image of themselves, which often moves them to tears, even though they have to pay for it.

However, through this action, the church successfully brought the blessed knights into its system. For a time, due to the negligence of the kings and lords, the church could even claim that those knights who were not blessed in the church were possessed by the devil.

Of course, this situation mostly occurs among ordinary people without any background, who are usually scapegoats and sacrifices pushed out by the church.

When the Church, or rather, when Father Alexander III issued the Great Excommunication, he and the person behind him probably did not expect that César was a person from another world. His values ​​were already firmly established, and he had not been taught or intimidated by the priests before. He did not have that kind of deep-rooted fear, and of course, he would not panic because of their Great Excommunication.

However, the church has done this more than once or twice. In any case, if they fail, they suffer no loss, but if they succeed, they can gain a lot of benefits.

Philip II suddenly realized why, ever since the advent of monarchs, apart from the initial honeymoon period, kings had been vying with popes for power. The Church's appetite was simply a bottomless pit. No matter how much land, people, gold, and wheat you threw down, they would devour it all without even a burp afterward. What ruler could tolerate that?
This is something that would cause conflict between the church and even some great lords, let alone the king. The primogeniture system currently in use in Europe may be for this very reason. Besides not wanting to dilute the original territory and power of the family, it is also because the best teachers at this time are priests. The eldest son of the lord can take him along to teach him by example, but he does not have the energy to teach his second son and even younger sons.

The priests—with a few exceptions—were not at all lenient when it came to fooling their students—and there was indeed a case where a lord (who had taken over after his brothers died) donated a valuable territory to the church at the urging of his priest teacher.

This incident caused quite a stir, and it made the lords and kings in various places start to pay attention to the education of their children. But education is easy to talk about but difficult to implement. They themselves did not have much knowledge. After all, they were originally just a group of barbarians, and their teachers and ministers were all priests.

The reason the Church has remained so stable is precisely because it has established laws and pathways for advancement. A humble farmer's son may become the Pope, or if you are willing to dedicate yourself to the Church, the Church will not hesitate to grant you the position of a saint.

This is why the Archbishop of Canterbury, whom Henry II had promoted from humble beginnings, still betrayed him.

Henry II was furious—this was something Louis VII had told his youngest son after a good laugh, and Philip II was deeply impressed by it. His father had later taught him not to assume that a farmer's son would be grateful to you just because you've promoted him to archbishop.

Priests are different from ordinary people; they have their own way of thinking, and in their hearts, they are God's servants, forever superior to us mortals.

Philip II was still very young at the time, and he asked an ignorant question: "Can we then have the knights drive all those priests away?"

Unfortunately, no, this raises another issue.

At that time, even the sons of kings and lords had difficulty receiving a complete education, let alone commoners.

At that time, there were no schools for ordinary people. When people mentioned teachers, they were either the few scholars who lived in seclusion at home, or monks and priests, and the earliest schools were all founded by the church.

This led to a situation where, when a king or a lord wanted some practical officials—that is, officials who could count, keep accounts, calculate, copy rosters, and organize accounts—the only options besides priests were the Isaacs.

But you absolutely cannot place Isaac above anyone else, or you'll be in for a series of rebellions.

And the priests did indeed play the most important role; which village didn't have a small chapel and a priest?

The priests could appease the people on behalf of the king, proclaim his will, and tell them what to do and not to do. Without the priests… Philip II suddenly paused, looking at Cesare with some surprise, while Cesare returned a puzzled look.

César was unaware that Philip II had suddenly thought of Cyprus.

Before the Third Crusade, he had heard that Richard had gone to Cyprus. Of course, it was in his capacity as the Knight of Arthur. This was certainly not something his courtiers told him as amusement. As the King of England, who possessed a large number of Frankish fiefdoms, Richard's movements were always closely monitored by Philip II.

During this expedition, Richard extended a warm invitation to Richard to visit Cyprus. Richard assumed that when they arrived in Cyprus, Lord César would greet them, just as they would in any English or French city, with horns blaring and petals fluttering. The city's bishops, lords, their wives and children, their relatives, the Grand Masters of the Knights, knights of noble names, lords of renown, and wealthy merchants would all be waiting in a long, crowded procession for their arrival.

In fact, they were indeed welcomed.

Richard, however, was dismissive of the welcome—what was there to see? They were all vulgar fellows. César had already gone to Arrassa Road, and they could only visit César's daughter, the little girl with a male name. This little girl was very strong and liked to swing her hands and slap people. Richard enjoyed it, laughing even as he was being slapped loudly. Philip II watched from the side and felt pain just watching.

As for this stranger, Lorenz merely gave him a perfunctory slap, which landed on his thigh and hurt so much that he almost jumped up immediately. When he took a bath that evening, he saw that the slap was already bruised and purple.

The marks Lorenz left on him were far less severe than those of another man, an ordinary farmer whom Richard had dragged him to see. This man owned some land, vineyards, a cabin, a wife, and several children, but he was not blessed, was not chosen, and had lost an arm.

The only thing worth mentioning is that his eldest son was a soldier in the lord's army. But so what? Cesar had a thousand soldiers, and probably more in the future.

To Philip II's surprise, however, he was also Cesare's piper. It was quite common for a king or lord to create a new title. But he was, after all, a king, and he immediately recognized the piper's usefulness; they were the lord's eyes and ears.

And what about the arms? The king's arms, wrists, and fingers. He saw the soldiers stationed in the villages and towns. They had not been chosen to fight for the lord, but they received a decent salary. Moreover, they were almost all locals, which meant they would not trample and plunder the villagers' property as wantonly as the unfamiliar soldiers.

Although there were instances of accepting bribes, the practice was relatively restrained and could even be considered as an additional form of salary.

What surprised Philip II even more was that when disputes arose, people would not seek out priests, but rather tax collectors. These tax collectors were sent by Cesare, ostensibly to explain the methods and amounts of the new taxes, but they were involved in almost everything. People always called them "just," and even though they were some Venetians from elsewhere, they were still deeply trusted by the people.

And he did indeed see a tax collector, accompanied by two attendants, successfully quell a dispute between two villages. Although it took a lot of talking and a few swings of a stick, the fact that he was able to do this was enough to earn him the attention of a king.

There were many more such people, at least several hundred, who, like the threads of a spider's web, successfully covered the entirety of Cyprus, making it a true whole. Could he really do that? Philip II pondered this question repeatedly. He had already heard about these Venetians; they were, in essence, the dowry of Cesare's second wife, Portia, and Cesare had indeed found a loophole—these people were almost all driven out by the Byzantine Emperor Manuel I.

At that time, Constantinople was home to more than 10,000 Venetians, who were all merchants, or their sons or apprentices. They had all received basic education and were proficient in calculation, counting, and reading and writing.

Even if he were to recruit now, he'd probably not be able to recruit that many people, and he also wouldn't be able to afford to pay their salaries.

So what about the Genoese, or the Pisaians?
Philip II's identity is uncertain.

Another option was the Isaacs, but look around, there isn't a single Isaac standing in the court in all of Cyprus—was Cesar a fool?
Philip II immediately abandoned his plans.

(End of this chapter)