Swordsmanship

Giulio had a servant bring tea, then introduced several other important buildings:

Palazzo Vecchio, which currently served as the city hall, had a dark gray roof.

Giotto's Campanile was Gothic in style, its exterior adorned with magnificent marble sculptures.

After the wealthy merchant left, Vitus sat at the table with pen and paper, writing to Constantinople. He said he was doing well and planned to stay in Florence for a while to observe how the city's commerce worked. Finally, he solemnly promised his father that he would never abuse the Palaiologos family name.

When he had finished writing, Vitus checked the letter from beginning to end. He broke off a small piece of sealing wax and placed it in a copper spoon, then held it over the candle flame. Gradually, the wax melted in the heat, releasing the distinctive scent of pine resin.

Vitus tilted the spoon, letting the melted wax drip onto the envelope's flap and form a red circle about the size of a coin. Before it had fully hardened, he removed the signet ring from his left hand and pressed its face firmly into the soft wax, making sure the pattern was clearly imprinted.

Once he had confirmed it was in order, Vitus rang a bell and handed the envelope to the servant who came into the room, asking him to send it to Constantinople.

"Phew, that should about do it. It's not like anyone's paying attention to me, so it makes no difference whether I'm in Constantinople or not."

After days of rushing around, Vitus yawned and rested his head on the table for a short nap. He slept until evening, when Giulio invited him to dinner.

There were four seats at the dining table: Vitus, Giulio, and the latter's two sons, Pauli and Phil.

The three men looked rather alike. Giulio was a little portly, while his sons were of average build. They had oval faces, straight noses, and short, dark chestnut hair with a natural curl at the ends.

Giulio sat at the head of the table and introduced his guest to his two sons. "This is Vitus Palaiologos, the fourth younger brother of His Highness Prince John. He's willing to serve as an artillery commander, on the condition that you call him by the assumed name 'Anthony Doukas.'"

Pauli had fought in the battle outside Pistoia and had met Vitus before. He nodded to him amicably. "My respects, Your Highness."

Phil examined the guest's face again and again, feeling that something was off. During the meal, he asked Vitus question after question, but unfortunately, he couldn't stump him.

Vitus had spent more than a decade living in seclusion within the imperial palace, leaving him plenty of time to study. During this period, the education of Byzantine high society was divided into three stages:

Elementary education covered reading, writing, and arithmetic. Secondary education focused on "Paideia," or classical Greek culture, ancient Greek, and a range of general subjects: grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music.

The goal of higher education was to train officials, senior clergy, and scholars. Its courses included philosophy, oratory, law, and theology. As a member of the royal family, Vitus had also learned the Latin essential to high society. Combined with the knowledge he had brought from the future, his learning far outstripped Phil's, who came from a merchant family.

At last, Phil stopped asking questions. Vitus focused on the onion-braised beef on his plate, and before he knew it, the servants had cleared away the main course. Dinner had reached the dessert course.

"Your Highness." Giulio handed his guest a copper spoon and gestured for him to smash the sugar sculpture at the center of the table—a castle built entirely out of sugar.

Vitus did as he was asked and struck the castle's main tower with the spoon. To his surprise, a live bird flew out from inside the sugar sculpture, flapping its wings as it darted out of the dining room. It gave everyone quite a fright.

He picked up a piece of broken sugar and put it in his mouth, then exclaimed with genuine admiration, "What an imaginative dessert. It's just so extravagant."

In the Middle Ages, sugar was an out-and-out luxury. It was only later, when Europeans colonized the New World and built sugarcane plantations in the Caribbean, that sugar gradually became part of ordinary people's lives.

Pauli explained, "The Medici family started this trend. There's no helping it; the rest of us have to follow suit. Spending a little money is nothing. What matters is keeping up appearances."

After dinner, Vitus returned to his guest room. The alcohol soon sent him into a drowsy sleep, and when he opened his eyes again, it was already the next morning.

"Phew, velvet mattresses really are a whole different level of comfort."

Vitus sleepily got up to wash, then suddenly heard a commotion outside the estate. He asked Phil, who was amusing a parrot in the courtyard, "What's going on?"

"Magistrate Albizzi has a dispute with another family. They couldn't settle it despite mediation from several parties, so they've decided to use a 'trial by combat' as the final ruling. Your Highness, are you interested?"

"Please call me Anthony." Vitus was interested. He followed Phil to the center of Florence—the Piazza della Signoria—and pushed through the crowd. In the arena, he saw two swordsmen kneeling on one knee, leaning on their swords as they silently prayed.

Phil helpfully explained to his guest:

"Albizzi is sure to win. His champion is Master Conan, a formal student of Fiore dei Liberi. He also spent many years in Germany, combining the strengths of both the German school and the Italian school. He's almost impossible to beat."

Vitus had heard of Fiore and grew even more curious. He watched the action in the arena without taking his eyes off it.

When the prayers ended, the duel began. The other duelist took up his stance, then shouted and swiftly swung his sword down from the upper right. In an instant, Conan likewise swung his sword from his own right side, knocking the other man's blade with the flat of his sword.

Clang!

To the spectators' disbelief, Conan's blade slid down the length of his opponent's sword like a striking snake, miraculously hitting him in the cheek. The man swayed, then collapsed helplessly to the ground, clutching his injured cheek in silence.

Phil said, "Good thing they're using blunted swords for the trial. Otherwise, that would've killed him."

That was it?

Vitus hadn't even had time to react, and neither had the crowd around him. As cries of amazement rang out, Conan sheathed his sword and bowed to the spectators.

The notary coughed twice, then shouted, "With the gods as our witnesses, the winner of this trial by combat is Master Conan of Toulon and his employer, Magistrate Albizzi!"

Witnessing the duel stirred something in Phil. His long-dormant interest in swordsmanship flared up again, and he began explaining Conan's style.

"Master Conan favors letting the opponent strike first, then beating their attack with a counter. Take that 'Glutzhauw' he just used, for example. It's one of the Master Strikes. The movement is simple and elegant... Would you like to learn?"

Vitus had never had knightly training, and the explanation went right over his head. He sat there in a daze for a moment, then Phil grabbed him by the wrist and led him to a nearby blacksmith's shop.

A sign hung over the shop entrance, bearing an image of a hammer and flames. It showed that the owner belonged to the Blacksmiths' Guild.