At dawn on April 5, the members of the Rotten Herring Mercenary Group crawled out of their tents and lined up for breakfast: half a loaf of black bread and a bowl of vegetable soup.
They wolfed it down, then, urged on by their officers, packed up their tools and formed ranks to head for the mountain path to the northwest.
The strong, sturdy soldiers marched at the front, hacking through the thorns and vines blocking the way with iron axes, frightening deer and wild boars out of the undergrowth.
Behind them came the Three-Pounders and old-fashioned Serpent Cannons, dragged by draft horses. The beasts snorted heavily, muscles rolling beneath their glossy coats, while the shafts of the gun carriages groaned under the strain. The wheels occasionally sank into rain-soaked mud, requiring logs to be laid beneath them and the strength of dozens of men to haul them free.
After an hour of labor, the mercenaries had little strength left. Piero ordered them to rest where they stood, thinking, This job is far too exhausting. If I'd known, I should have asked for more money.
Near noon, the mountain path grew steeper still. To the left stood a slick rock wall; to the right lay a mist-shrouded ravine. Vitus ordered everyone to halt, then used specialized tools to unscrew the iron bolts on the cannons and dismantle them into separate components.
"You may rest now. The soldiers on the mountaintop haven't finished yet."
At three in the afternoon, the soldiers atop the mountain had erected temporary wooden tripods. Two enormous compound pulley systems were firmly secured with iron chains, and hemp ropes ran through pulleys greased with tallow before slowly descending over the cliff's edge.
Several mercenaries gathered around and carefully threaded the rope ends through lifting rings cast into the cannon barrels beforehand, tying them into intricate, sturdy sailor's knots.
Once everything was ready, Vitus waved a flag toward the mountaintop. Amid a teeth-grating screech of friction, the ropes drew taut, and the heavy bronze barrel suddenly jolted, swaying as it rose from the ground. It ascended slowly through the air like an ominous pendulum, casting a slowly shifting shadow across the rock face. Every sway made the people below, craning their necks to watch, clench their hearts.
At last, beneath everyone's gaze, the bronze barrel was hauled to the mountaintop's edge. The mercenaries pulled the ropes and set it onto a newly prepared gun carriage.
At five in the afternoon, eight Three-Pounders and four Serpent Cannons had been hoisted to the summit. In halting Italian, Vitus asked a local fisherman, "What important buildings are there in the city?"
Unexpectedly, the fisherman did not hesitate to point out the garrison barracks, as well as the mansions and warehouses belonging to wealthy merchants.
"My lord, the garrison camp is in the northwestern part of the city. The nobles' and rich merchants' mansions are clustered in the north and the city center, easy to identify. Take that mansion with the blue roof, for example—there isn't a single good person inside. They buy things without paying, then found some excuse to beat me up..."
The fisherman rambled on for a long time before finally adding, "Sister Theresa at the church in the south of the city has a kind heart, and the nearby residents are all poor, unfortunate people. Please avoid that area."
Vitus nodded and tossed him a small pouch of Florin gold coins. "I understand. You may go."
He narrowed his eyes and looked down from on high. The garrison camp resembled a chessboard spread open below him, gray-roofed wooden houses clustered around a stone main building. He could even see tiny figures lining up to collect food.
Before long, a Serpent Cannon was loaded. As the fuse burned down, a five-pound stone shot burst from the barrel. Vitus followed the black speck with his eyes, watching it fall far away into the barracks.
The next instant, the defenders queuing for their meals fell into panic. Their formation scattered, and they ran wildly across the open ground like startled ants.
"We hit them!" the gunners cheered in unison. Vitus had them test-fire the Three-Pounders. After choosing the proper angle, all twelve cannons began firing volleys.
As the sunset slowly sank, La Spezia's defenders descended into complete panic. Screams drifted over on the breeze, while Vitus remained expressionless and used a charcoal pencil to draw a map of the city's buildings.
After a long while, he stretched. "That's enough for today. Rest well. I'm going down the mountain to meet with the governor."
On April 6, the first rays of morning sunlight shone upon the sea. The artillery bombarded the garrison barracks as usual, and once more than half the wooden buildings in the camp had been destroyed, they shifted their target to the nobles' mansions in the north of the city.
Scorching cannonballs tore through the sky. One landed in the fountain at the center of a courtyard, splashing up great sheets of murky water. Another smashed through the stable roof, sending panicked horses charging from their stalls, neighing as they ran rampant through the mansion grounds and knocked over an unlucky young maid.
As the bombardment continued, the other buildings could not escape disaster either. The lavishly decorated banquet hall was struck by several cannonballs, its tables and chairs destroyed, expensive gold and silver tableware scattered across the floor.
At that moment, the glass chandelier beneath the dome began to sway slightly. Then it crashed down onto the carpet, turning into a pile of gorgeous but useless shards. Along with it shattered the mansion owner's will to resist.
After a long while, Vitus raised his left hand. "Cease fire. Send someone to inform the defenders. From here on, I will pay special attention to the wealthy districts in the city. Unless they surrender, the bombardment will not stop."
While waiting, Vitus spent money to buy a sea bass that the mercenaries had just caught. He was in an excellent mood, so he decided to cook it himself. He slit open the fish's belly with a dagger, carefully removed the innards, peeled away the transparent membrane, then rinsed the inner wall of the belly with clean water.
Next, he cut the cleaned fish into small chunks, crushed several cloves of garlic with the side of his knife, and finely chopped a handful of parsley...
Soon, the fish chunks went into lightly heated olive oil. With a sharp sizzle, the fragrance burst forth at once. Once the fish skin had fried to a faint golden color, he poured in water and added various seasonings one after another. The broth began to boil, and the fish pieces gently rolled within it. Ignoring the looks of those around him, Vitus whistled contentedly.
Piero followed the scent of the fish soup over. "My lord, aren't you worried at all?"
"It is only the second day. I have plenty of time to make good on my threat. If the nobles in the city insist on holding out rather than surrender, preferring to fight to the final moment for a foreign ruler, then so be it."
He ladled a bowl of fish soup for the mercenary captain, then served himself another bowl. Using a silver spoon, he drank in small sips, savoring the broth's natural sweetness and freshness. Before long, the governor's guard came running with news: La Spezia had agreed to surrender.
Vitus seemed to have heard nothing more remarkable than some everyday triviality. He took Piero's empty bowl and continued ladling fish soup for his guest. "There's pepper and truffles in this. Drink more."
La Spezia had a long history, but constrained by geography, it was merely a small city with nearly ten thousand inhabitants. Albizzi bargained with the city council and set the ransom for the city at eighty thousand Florins.
As agreed beforehand, Vitus received twenty percent of it: sixteen thousand Florins. After deducting the mercenaries' hardship pay, he earned eight thousand Florins in one stroke, equivalent to twenty-eight kilograms of gold.
Piero received his share and felt immensely satisfied. He had earned more than half a year's income for only one day of work. Looking back over his twenty years as a mercenary, this was the first time he had ever made such easy money.
"My lord, if you run into trouble in the future, remember to come find me. The Rotten Herring Mercenary Group will never back down!"
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