1444, Byzantium Resurrects

In the first half of 1447, Europe experienced a rare period of peace.

England and France were recovering from recent conflicts, the Holy Roman Empire was preoccupied with internal disputes, Eastern Europe was still in turmoil, and Albania and the Ottoman Empire were at a stalemate.

Meanwhile, Poland and Lithuania had not yet completely eradicated the threat of the Teutonic Knights in the north, and Moscow remained under the Tatar yoke.

News arrived from the south that King Abdullah had narrowly escaped back to the capital, Sebha, and had immediately declared Adnan Shah and Fatieh Shah traitors. He mobilised tribal forces from nearby regions to eliminate Fatieh's influence in the capital and stabilise the situation.

Fatiye Sheikh declared independence with his entire tribe and refused to obey the kingdom's rule.

Adnan the Earl marched south to Uguchi, where he defeated the king's garrison and seized the local farmland, pastures, water sources and iron mines. He then declared the establishment of the Uguchi Earldom, making Eastern Orthodox Christianity the state religion and pledging allegiance to the Grand Duchy of Surt.

The Earl of Uguchi immediately announced that he would invest 1,000 ducats in the Surt United Chamber of Commerce, enabling it to establish a branch in the ancient city of Uguchi and exchange local iron ore for slaves and arm Uguchi our from the north.

Seeing that Adnan was reasonable, Isaac took advantage of the situation and sold 500 war slaves to him at a low price.

At this point, three forces emerged in the south of the Grand Duchy of Surt: Fatiye, Abdullah and Adnan. These forces were hostile towards each other and fought fiercely for control of the small tribes that were watching from the sidelines.

Meanwhile, the Hafsid Dynasty in Tunisia was on the verge of civil war and the Mamluks were preoccupied with the rebel army in Damascus.

For a short time, the Grand Duchy of Surt was safe.

The next period was one of gathering strength, recruiting refugees and waiting for the right moment.

The entire Surt region was now relatively peaceful and the population of Surt Port had grown to over 7,000, more than half of whom were immigrants.

News of Isaac's defeat of Fezzan and his capture of the Jufra Oasis spread throughout Italy, and the Pope rewarded Isaac for his holy war, vigorously promoting this long-awaited victory.

Many knights and mercenaries from the lost lands of southern Italy came to Surt Port, hoping to gain a foothold in the turmoil.

The Jufra region has been temporarily subjugated by Isaac's might, but there will definitely be rebellious forces in the future.

All three legions are stationed in the Jufra region and will be ready to suppress any unrest.

"That is the current situation. The fourth group of immigrants from Dobrogea is about to arrive. Take good care of them, and arrange for them to settle among the newly subjugated tribes to carry out surveillance duties for us.

"I am leaving for a while to inspect our overseas territories."

"Everything will remain the same after I leave. Lord Isult will oversee political affairs and Count Mikhail will oversee military affairs."

"Albert, keep a close eye on the situation in Albania and report back immediately if anything happens."

"Yes, sir!"

Isaac raised his wine glass and drank with them.

On 25 February 1447, he boarded the Grand Duke of Moriah and left the port of Surt for Rome, his first destination.

When he arrived, the entire city was in mourning.

Just a few days earlier, Pope Honorius IV had passed away.

The Pope had travelled between various grand ducal councils, attending meetings full of hope, only to return in despair.

A new pope had not yet been elected at that time, and the city was in a state of turmoil.

Upon arriving at the port, Gutenberg, the head of the Roman printing press, was waiting for him.

"Your Highness, welcome back to Rome."

Gutenberg greeted Isaac warmly.

He knew that his business's success was entirely due to Isaac's support.

"Your Highness, the Roman Printing House currently employs 120 workers, operates three factories and generates a monthly profit of two thousand ducats."

"Your previous strategy was brilliant. Now, many Italian nobles are collecting books bearing the papal coat of arms and the purple double-headed eagle emblem, and other printing houses are far behind us in terms of profits."

"We plan to establish branch factories in Ravenna and Montferrat to further capture the wealthy market in northern Italy."

"Very good, dear Mr Gutenberg. I suggest you also open a printing factory and a paper mill in my new territory of Port Surt."

"We can use the geographical location to sell books to Tunis, Cairo and even Damascus and Baghdad."

"Don't limit yourself to the Christian market. Muslims also have a great demand for books."

Isaac nodded and commented.

"I hear that your son Jost is well versed in law. I am in need of judges for my domain. Would he be willing to serve me as chief justice?"

"Thank you very much, Your Highness."

Gutenberg was so excited that he couldn't speak coherently.

"Everything will be done as you say."

"Then it's settled. Jost can go directly to the magistrate Isult to report for duty."

Isaac patted Gutenberg on the shoulder, then got into the carriage that had been prepared for him.

"Take me to the Baroncelli family." he instructed the coachman.

Soon, he arrived at a typical Baroque-style mansion.

Servants led him inside and through the garden paths, passing several corridors adorned with Christian theological paintings until they reached the master's reception room.

The owner was an energetic middle-aged man with a smiling mouth, black eyes, brown hair and a slightly comical hooked nose.

His face was kind and generous, resembling that of a farmer.

He was dressed in a red cassock and wore a miter. He held a cross in one hand and flipped through a book on the table with the other.

Isaac glanced at the book and saw that it was Plato's The Statesman.

The exquisite cover was adorned with a purple double-headed eagle emblem.

"Greetings, Reverend Cardinal Nicholas. I am a lost traveler from afar who has come to seek your guidance."

Isaac bowed respectfully, lowering his posture.

"Greetings! Brother from the East, I have heard of your heroic deeds in North Africa and am delighted to hear of them."

Tommaso Baroncelli, known as Nicholas V, was the last pope of the Middle Ages and the first of the Renaissance.

This pope came from humble beginnings and was a renowned Renaissance pope. During his reign, the Renaissance spread throughout Italy and the rest of Western Europe. He was renowned for his enlightened and tolerant rule.

To save Byzantium, he humbled himself and asked Western Europe for help, levying a tithe to fund the holy war against the Ottomans.

However, he was unsuccessful, as no ruler was willing to invest in the cause of Constantinople.

Ultimately, he paid for a fleet of ships and Italian mercenaries to join the siege out of his own pocket.

"This is all for the sake of spreading the Gospel of Christ, Your Holiness."

Nicholas smiled slightly.

"I am not yet the Pope, my dear child."

"No one is more devout than you, and no one is better suited to be Christ's representative on earth."

Isaac signaled to his attendants to bring the gifts he had brought with him.

"Your Majesty, these books are the royal treasures of Constantinople. I had them bound in fine leather at my printing house, and I heard that you love to read, so I am bringing them to you as a gift."

The servants carried in a box containing bound books, some of which were works by ancient Greek philosophers and others were collections of writings by Roman thinkers.

Nicholas flipped through a copy of Aristotle's Ethics, and a faint fragrance of ink wafted out, filling the room with silence for a moment.

"Thank you for your trouble," he said.

Nicholas said with a smile.

"My child, these books are very valuable. Thank you very much for your kindness."

"I am a servant of God and have no treasures. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Your Majesty, don't you think the Duke of Savoy is expanding too quickly in northern Italy?"

Nicholas smiled, but did not answer.

The former Duke of Savoy, Amadeus VIII, was the uncle of John IV, Marquis of Montferrat, as well as the current pseudo-pope Felix V of the Residual Council.

He was a talented man who, in just a few decades, expanded the small Duchy of Amadeus into the powerful Duchy of Savoy, which ruled northern Italy.

He was elected pope by the Council of 1440 and passed the title of duke to his son, Ludovico.

He was a natural enemy of the Roman Curia. "John IV, Marquis of Montferrat, is my cousin. I hope you can unite with the Venetians to help him break free from Savoy's control and bring peace back to northern Italy."

"I can assure you that John, Marquis of Montferrat, will be your most reliable ally in northern Italy."

...

After visiting Cardinal Nicholas, Isaac hurried north along the Ligurian coast to the city of Genoa.

Cardinal Nicholas did not give him a clear answer, but he did say that he would not tolerate the House of Savoy's desecration of the papacy.

Historically, under the combined pressure of Venice and the Pope, the House of Savoy eventually relinquished its suzerainty over Montferrat.

Isaac's preliminary efforts should not cause too many problems.

That night, he was warmly welcomed to the castle by Marquis John IV.

After exchanging pleasantries, they took their seats.

They discussed how Isaac's 10,000 ducats and the consistent profits from the trading company had significantly eased the domain's financial difficulties, enabling it to turn a profit and recover from the shadow of defeat.

"Dear John, William is now serving as my colonial minister and is busy in the Atlantic. We won't be able to see him for a while."

"That young man needs to gain some experience to avoid causing trouble everywhere..."

As the wine flowed, Isaac revealed the agreement he had made with Nicholas V.

"John, I want to ask you something."

He leaned closer.

"Go ahead."

"Is the Duke of Milan, Visconti, in poor health?"

He phrased it very tactfully.

John glanced at Isaac.

"Yes, I heard he can't get out of bed."

The two men fell silent for a moment, staring blankly at the flickering candlelight.

The Duke of Milan, Visconti, had no legitimate children.

He only had one illegitimate daughter, who married the mercenary leader Sforza.

"Many cities in western Milan were taken from Montferrat, weren't they?"

"Yes."

"The Visconti family of Milan is related to you by blood, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Many of the local commercial nobles are also connected to you, aren't they?"

"Yes."

John looked up and gazed into Isaac's sparkling eyes.

"So you're suggesting that I take advantage of the situation to recover the territory?"

"If possible, you could even demand the title of Duke of Milan."

John shook his head.

"Sforza has a large army and many skilled generals. I am no match for him."

"Listen to me. Once the Milanese ducal family has died out, the local commercial council will probably establish a republic."

"But the Doge of Venice, the Pope, the Sforza family and you don't want that to happen."

"Everyone wants a piece of the Milanese pie."

"This is your chance."

Brother! I've given you all the answers, so copy them down!

"We've only just recovered. We don't have the strength to fight them, do we?"

John remained skeptical.

"You must have heard that I have a territory in North Africa. I will support you."

Isaac finally gave John a shot of adrenaline.

Looking into Isaac's sincere eyes, John made up his mind.

"Alright! I'll start preparing right away!"

In March 1447, Cardinal Nicholas was crowned pope, supported by all sides, and became Pope Nicholas V.

On 2 April, Pope Nicholas V persuaded Felix V to abdicate, and together with the Doge of Venice he forced the Duchy of Savoy to relinquish its suzerainty over Montferrat.

The following day, Isaac said goodbye to John IV, left Italy and set sail westward.

"Captain Fidel, how are things going?"

Isaac boarded the ship and returned to the cabin to pull Captain Fidel aside and ask him.

"Your Highness, that merchant from the Snopia family refuses to do business with us anymore. He is also afraid that the matter will be exposed."

"We have spoken with him several times over the past few days, but he has been evasive each time, either avoiding the subject or trying to sell us his smaller ships."

"This Genoese is truly cunning."

Fidel gritted his teeth.

"Is that so? What a pity."

Earlier, Isaac had sent Captain Fidel to negotiate with Niccolo Snopia regarding the purchase of a ship, in the hope of repeating his previous trick and buying another 'retired' Clark sailing ship.

Niccolo naturally refused.

It would raise suspicions if several large warships were retired in quick succession over a few years.

Isaac sighed.

This was a case of being held hostage by others. If they didn't want to sell, money was useless.

Isaac had originally wanted to build a shipyard in the port of Surt, but later realized that this was completely unrealistic.

There were no large trees.

This was problematic.

In future, he would need to find a military port that could serve as a permanent naval base, complete with repair shops and shipyards, surrounded by numerous fishing villages where sailors could be recruited.

"Once we arrive in Portugal, I will try to ask Prince Enrique for permission to purchase large paddle-sail warships and Clark ships, but don't get your hopes up."

Fidel nodded regretfully.

"By the way, tell all the captains to search all the ports for ship designers. No matter how skilled they are, I will reward them."

"Tell them to go to the port of Sult."

The sails fluttered in the wind and the waves sparkled. Isaac took the same route as before, sailing from Genoa around the western Mediterranean, passing through Gibraltar and entering the Atlantic Ocean.

Suddenly, the waves grew stronger and the large ship seemed like a leaf on the ocean.

This time, however, everyone quickly adapted and did not sway from side to side as they had before.

The sailors became excited and the old hands told the newcomers stories of their adventures with His Highness, unbuttoning their shirts to reveal their battle scars.

Storms are the cocoons of sailors; those who survive them will emerge as the most brilliant of butterflies.

With people like this on board, the ship had a soul.

They would pass the story of Isaac down through the generations until the day they left the ship.

In the distance, fishing boats and merchant ships appeared, busy with their livelihoods.

Lisbon was not far away.

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