1444, Byzantium Resurrects

On 21 May 1446, Isaac left Constantinople with his spoils.

The Grand Duke of Morea arrived and departed amid indifference.

Three days later, he arrived at the port of Patras.

There, he encountered the trading fleet of Montferrat, which was anchored there.

Athens had been reduced to ashes, and the Montferrat Trading Company had designated the port of Patras as one of its destinations for trade in the eastern Mediterranean.

A year had passed, and the fleet was now a different sight.

Two large three-deck galleys, four medium-sized galleys, and 15 transport ships made up a fleet capable of repelling attacks by pagan pirates.

During his year at sea, Norwich had not only tanned his cheeks but also gained a wealth of experience, exuding a sense of calmness in his every move.

Isaac held a special banquet for Norwich and the other captains. Fidel and Kelman were very happy to see their companions again.

As the wine flowed freely, Isaac signalled to Norwich, and the two left the room and headed for Isaac's office.

He poured Norwich a cup of sobering soup and motioned for him to sit down.

"Have you made any progress on the task I assigned you?"

Isaac played with the sceptre of absolute power in his hand.

It was a reward given to Isaac by John VIII for his dedication.

"Your Highness, some of our sailors have already learned basic Greek and cartography, and five sailors have been sent to North Africa."

"Where in North Africa exactly?"

"Two are in Tunis, one is in Tripoli, one has been sent to Cyrene, and the last one is in Sirte."

"Any news?"

"Your Highness, there is no news worth mentioning. There is infighting within the Hafsid dynasty, local forces are growing in power, and the Bedouins are raiding... These are all common occurrences."

After saying that, he joked.

"Ever since I can remember, North Africa has been like linen woven by a little girl, a complete mess."

"Are there records of the maps and local customs?"

Isaac had no mind to respond to his little joke.

"Everything is recorded, I brought it all with me."

"Have you found any talent worth recruiting?"

"There are a few, one of whom is a Bedouin tribal chieftain who was stripped of his tribe by his uncle and has nowhere to go, so he found me."

Isaac made a note.

"Anything else?"

"There are also a few ordinary Arabs. According to your standards, anyone who can read and write counts as talent."

"Many of them are unwilling to join the ship."

Norwich felt a little embarrassed.

Isaac nodded.

This really couldn't be blamed on the Bulgarian captain.

In this day and age, the army belonged to the nobility, while the navy belonged to the commoners.

Generally, educated noblemen who could read and write would not join the navy.

However, Isaac was still a little disappointed.

"This is what we'll do. I'll send a few people with your fleet to collect information along the way. You're responsible for assisting them and coordinating with them on previous work."

"Yes!"

Norwich breathed a sigh of relief.

He wasn't suited for this kind of work anyway, so it was better to leave it to someone else.

"You stay here. I have already ordered the army to hand over the defence and depart for Patras."

"Chief Administrator Andre and the two governors' envoys will also be coming."

Novich nodded, saluted, and left.

Isaac poured himself another cup of wine and drank it slowly.

A week later, Patras Port, the large parade ground.

Patras, a small port city, had a parade ground that was disproportionate to its size.

It was said that during the reign of Basil II, it had served as a gathering place for the Peloponnese Military District.

Soldiers from the four legions of the army, sailors from the Mediterranean fleet and the Montferrat trade fleet, and various commanders stood on the parade ground, waiting for their prince.

Isaac looked down at the thousands of sailors and soldiers below from a temporary platform.

"I have gathered you here today for no other reason."

Several messengers rode through the ranks on horseback, conveying His Highness's orders.

"We have just been through a war and lost many brothers. You have all fought with all your might."

"I am very grateful for your contributions to Rome."

"Without further ado, let the rewards be distributed!"

"Now, the heralds will call out names. Those calls should step forward!"

"First, Captain Fidel!"

Fidel ran forward and knelt on one knee.

"Your Highness!"

"You are the one who commands the fleet and leads the charge at sea. I cannot match you."

"With you in charge of the navy, I have no worries."

Isaac took the newly forged curved sword from his attendant.

The blade was made of Uz steel, and the back was engraved with the purple double-headed eagle emblem of the Eastern Roman Empire.

The hilt was painted with the coat of arms of the Palaiologos family and engraved with a line of Greek text.

In the name of God, according to my will, Isaac Palaiologos.

Then there was the serial number at the bottom: 001.

"I will fight for His Highness, even if it means death!"

Fidel said loudly as he took the curved sword.

"Second, Mikhail, commander of the legion."

Isaac's teacher, Mikhail, ran forward.

"When it comes to training troops and enforcing military discipline, I am no match for you."

"I will fight for His Highness!"

The same curved sword, numbered 002.

"Captain Henry!"

"Yes!"

"Knight Conte!"

"Captain Norwich!"

"Legion Commander Maruna!"

"Legion Commander Ibrahim!"

"Archer Hakan!"

"First Warrior Leon!"

...

Isaac quickly distributed 50 finely crafted curved swords forged from Uz steel to all ranks of the army, from legion commanders to ordinary soldiers.

Unlike the generals, the soldiers were a simple group who loved money above all else, followed by respect.

The lower ranks of the army had little sense of patriotism.

Isaac only distributed 50 of these specially made curved swords, which were exquisitely crafted and made at great expense to commend soldiers and generals for their bravery in battle and competent command.

These curved swords could be used directly in battle, but they were also symbols of status and honor.

Some of the soldiers who received the curved swords excitedly showed them off to their comrades, basking in their envious glances.

Then, Isaac began to distribute rewards, and large handfuls of gold ducats flowed from Isaac's money bag into the soldiers' waist pouches.

Isaac also took this opportunity to stipulate post-war compensation and consolation money for wounded and disabled soldiers.

This military reward and the curved swords cost Isaac more than 8,000 ducats.

However, his image among the soldiers was indeed improving.

After this war, Isaac's army had decreased in numbers, but its quality had improved significantly.

With the support of these veterans, expanding the army would be much easier.

Isaac did not delay the soldiers' time to enjoy themselves in the city and led all the officers into his meeting hall.

Isaac walked to the main seat and sat down, with his attendant Anderson standing beside him.

Captain Fidel of the fleet sat with the military system to Isaac's right, and Chief Administrator Andre sat with the administrative and commercial systems to Isaac's left.

He tapped the table, signaling everyone to look up.

"It's been a long time since we've all gathered together. This is the first joint military and political meeting. From now on, it will be held once a year, with the time and venue to be determined later."

"Andersen, give a brief overview of the situation, followed by statements from the representatives of each faction."

Anderson stepped forward and briefly reported on the war and the military situation over the past year.

Then, Chief Administrator Andre bowed and began to explain the current situation of the Montferrat Trading Company.

"Due to the impact of the previous war, our trade in Athens has been temporarily suspended, and slaves are now imported from West Africa and traded with the Greek Guinea Trading Company."

"In addition, our fleet is no longer afraid of most of the pagan pirates and can even occasionally raid passing merchant ships."

"Over the past year, we have conducted a total of four trade missions, with a dividend of 25,000 ducat gold coins. I believe that with the convenience of the West African slave trade, we can earn even more in the future."

Isaac nodded. This was basically as he had expected.

"Mr. Gutenberg, you speak next."

"Ah, I..."

Gutenberg slowly stood up.

"Your Highness, there is nothing special about the work at our printing factory. Some merchants have already started to imitate our products, but there is no need to worry for the time being."

"They still have to learn my techniques!"

Gutenberg smiled.

"How are things in the governor's district?"

The envoy from the Governor of La Palma stood up first.

"Your Highness, we have now established a small town with a population of 2,600, but we don't have enough water, so the governor is trying to find a way to dig wells."

"More and more exploration ships are passing through here, and we can earn some money by providing them with services."

"Our income is not enough to cover our expenses for the time being."

The situation in the Governorate of Bizergo was similar. They had established a small port with a population of 600 and built many small boats using the island's black labour force and abundant timber resources. They often travelled to the Guinea-Bissau region to trade gold with tribes and capture slaves.

"This is our annual income, a total of 20,000 ducats."

The governor of Bizergo handed several money bags to Anderson.

Slaves and gold were both highly profitable.

Subsequently, reports were submitted on all other matters, but the issues remained severe.

For instance, Governor Gosia wanted to purchase some firearms, but after submitting the request, no one processed it.

Lothair sought hydraulic engineers to survey the island's water resources and drill some wells, but no one responded.

Isaac pondered for a moment and decided to use this opportunity to standardize departments and responsibilities.

He stood up, pressed his hand down, and stopped everyone's whispering.

"His Majesty has appointed me as the autocratic prince, in charge of all overseas territories. I have decided to formally establish an administrative body."

Isaac took out his previous draft.

"Andre will serve as Minister of Commerce, with Riddle and Norwich assisting him in managing the affairs of the two trading companies and overseeing the printing factory in Rome."

"William Balearo will serve as Minister of Colonization, managing the Atlantic Fleet and the two governorates."

"Riddle will serve as Minister of Finance, managing the finances of the territories."

"Isult Sfrangis will serve as Minister of the Interior, managing all internal affairs."

"Albert will serve as Chief of Intelligence, managing our intelligence affairs."

"Lancelot serves as Minister of Engineering, managing engineering and construction matters."

"The Royal Knight Academy is officially established, temporarily located in Mistras, with a military hospital and war orphanage under its jurisdiction. I will serve as the president, and Andronica Balearo will be responsible for day-to-day management."

"The Royal Naval Academy is officially established, temporarily located in Patras Port. Portuguese instructors will be hired in the future."

That's all for now.

This arrangement has a deeper meaning.

Isaac's old followers have been given the most important positions, managing all current affairs.

The talents who defected to Isaac through Sphranx have also been given important positions, appearing to wield great power, but they are all empty promises and have nothing now.

This arrangement appeased the old comrades and attracted more people to join the cause.

The meeting ended, and people were overjoyed.

After the meeting, Isaac had no time to rest and received several 'talents' found by Norwich.

The leader was a young man in rags. Seeing Isaac approaching, he hurriedly stood up from his chair and knelt on the ground respectfully.

The other Bedouins also knelt.

Isaac sat down and motioned for them to rise. Norwich stood beside him, guarding his safety, while the newly appointed Minister of the Interior, Isult, listened nearby.

"Prince of Rome, please save your people!"

The Greek was so broken that Isaac could hardly understand it.

He didn't know where he had learned that phrase.

"I speak Arabic. Speak properly."

"Your Highness, my name is Abu. I am a sheikh of Surt, and Fezzan also recognizes my status, but my uncle took my tribe and betrayed our ancestors. Please help me win back my people!"

"Why don't you seek help from Fezzan or Tunisia?"

Abu sneered.

"The Hafsid dynasty has been in turmoil for years. Every heir wants to take control of the wealthy cities of Tunis, Kairouan, and Sfax. They wouldn't care about us."

"As for... as for Fezzan, I suspect my uncle is supported by them."

"You don't sound like a native tribal sheikh."

"My father sent me to Baghdad when I was very young to study under a Maliki scholar, so naturally I'm different from those savages."

"It wasn't until my elder brother suddenly passed away and my younger brother was still young that my father called me back to take my place."

At this point, he unconsciously straightened his chest.

"But it was precisely because I had been away from the tribe for so long that my uncle seized the throne, and I was unable to defend it."

"I'm asking for your help!"

"With just 200 gold ducats, I can recruit men and take back the tribe. I'll pay you back in full!"

Wow, he's asking for a free lunch, not even mentioning interest.

"We'll think about it."

Isaac sent them away.

"Norwich, Isult, what do you think?"

Isaac asked the two to sit down, poured three cups of wine, and ordered the servant to bring a rough map of North Africa and a detailed map of Surt drawn by sailors.

Surt is located between the Hafsid Dynasty and Mamluk Egypt. A small coastal area in the north has a Mediterranean climate, while the rest of the region has a temperate desert climate with year-round drought.

The main ethnic groups were Berbers and Bedouins, and the main religion was Sunni Islam, with some tribes practising Ibadism or primitive religions.

Surt currently belonged to the Fezzan Confederation of Tribes, but the central government had very little control over the various tribes, which were basically independent entities.

Although the area was barren, it connected Cyrenaica and Tripoli and was an important corridor.

Historically, this small region has never produced any powerful rulers. When the Hafsid dynasty was strong, it was under their control, and when the Mamluks took an interest, it submitted to the Egyptian sultan.

"Your Highness, what are your expectations for this matter?"

"Do you want to simply support a tribe loyal to you to better facilitate trade in North Africa, or do you want to occupy this area as a future base?"

Isaac glanced at Isult.

Not bad, he got to the heart of the matter at a glance.

"Tell me everything."

"If it's the first option, you can support merchants in trade centres such as Tunis or Sfax, which will bring a quicker return on your investment."

Isaac shrugged, neither confirming nor denying anything.

"What about the second option?"

"I admit that this is a good opportunity. The Hafsid dynasty has just ended its border conflict with Tlemcen, but no peace treaty has been signed."

"The Hafsid dynasty's centre of power is in the vicinity of Tunis, and their heirs are all fighting for power there, so the tribes on the border are temporarily unable to respond."

"In addition, the Mamluks are also deeply embroiled in palace and provincial struggles. There has been open and covert conflict between Damascus and Cairo for many years, so they are unlikely to do anything to us."

"As for the local Fezzan tribal alliance, they are completely disorganised and not worth worrying about."

"On the contrary, the environment and disease are our real enemies."

"Well said."

Isaac nodded in approval.

"But, Your Highness, is it worth it? We won't gain anything from there."

After sending the two away, Isaac poured another cup of wine and stared at the map in silence for a long time.

Is it worth it?

Of course it is.

As long as he can survive the first wave of counterattacks and establish a castle and fortifications, the tribal people, lacking weapons, will have no way to drive him out.

That's how the Portuguese got Ceuta.

His army will be like maggots on a carcass, crawling through this corridor and devouring everything in their path.

The biggest problem is the environment.

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