Spoils of War

On the morning of April 5th, members of the Rotten Herring mercenary company crawled out of their tents to line up for breakfast: half a loaf of black bread and a bowl of vegetable soup.

They wolfed down their meal, then, urged on by their officers, packed up their tools and marched in formation toward the mountain path to the northwest.

Sturdy soldiers led the way, using iron axes to hack through the thorns and vines blocking the path, scaring off the wild deer and boars in the thickets.

Behind them were the three-pounder cannons and old-style Serpent Cannon dragged by draft horses. The beasts breathed heavily, their muscles rippling under slick hides, while the carriage shafts groaned under the strain. Occasionally, the wheels would sink into mud caused by the rain, requiring wooden planks to be laid down and the combined strength of dozens of men to break free.

After an hour of toil, the mercenaries were nearly exhausted. Piero ordered them to rest where they stood, thinking to himself, This job is too tiring; I should have asked for more money.

Near noon, the mountain path grew increasingly steep, with slick rock walls on the left and mist-filled ravines on the right. Vitus ordered everyone to halt, using specialized tools to unscrew the iron bolts on the cannons and dismantle them into various components.

"You may rest now; the soldiers at the summit have not finished yet."

By three in the afternoon, the soldiers at the summit had erected temporary wooden tripods. Two massive compound pulley blocks were firmly secured by iron chains, and hemp ropes, coated in beef tallow, were lowered slowly from the edge of the cliff.

Several mercenaries gathered around, carefully threading the ends of the hemp ropes through the lifting rings pre-cast onto the cannon barrels, tying them into complex and secure sailor's knots.

Everything was ready. Vitus waved a flag toward the summit. Accompanied by a teeth-gritting screech of friction, the ropes pulled taut, and the heavy bronze cannon barrel shuddered violently before swaying off the ground. It hung in mid-air, rising slowly like an ominous pendulum, casting a creeping shadow against the rock face. Each sway made those looking up from below tighten their chests.

Finally, under the gaze of the crowd, the bronze barrel was hauled to the edge of the summit, and the mercenaries pulled the ropes to seat it onto the newly prepared gun carriage.

At five in the afternoon, eight three-pounders and four Serpent Cannon had been hoisted to the summit. Vitus asked a local fisherman in broken Italy, "What are the important buildings in the city?"

Unexpectedly, the fisherman pointed out the garrison barracks without hesitation, as well as the mansions and warehouses of the wealthy merchants.

"My lord, the garrison camp is in the northwest district. The mansions of the nobles and wealthy merchants are clustered in the north and the city center; they are easy to identify. For instance, that mansion with the blue roof—there isn't a single good person inside. They buy things without paying and even found an excuse to beat me up..."

The fisherman rambled for a long time before adding, "Sister Theresa at the church in the south of the city is kind-hearted, and the nearby residents are also poor souls. I beg you to avoid that area."

Vitus nodded and tossed him a small bag of Florin coins. "I understand. You may go."

He squinted, looking down from his vantage point. The garrison camp looked like an unfolded chessboard, with gray-roofed wooden houses crowding around a stone main building. He could even see many tiny figures lining up for food.

Soon, a Serpent Cannon was loaded. As the fuse burned out, a five-pound stone shot left the muzzle. Vitus's gaze followed the black dot, watching it land far away in the barracks area.

The next moment, the garrison troops lining up for their meal panicked. They broke formation, scattering across the open ground like a swarm of startled ants.

"Direct hit!" the gunners cheered in unison. Vitus ordered them to test the three-pounders. After selecting the proper angle, the twelve cannons began a synchronized barrage.

As the sunset slowly dipped, the defenders of La Spezia fell into total panic. Screams carried on the breeze. Vitus looked on with an indifferent expression, using a charcoal pencil to map the distribution of buildings in the city.

After a long while, he stretched. "That's enough for today. You all get some rest; I'm heading down the mountain to meet with the governor."

On April 6th, the first rays of morning sun shone upon the sea. The artillery bombarded the garrison barracks as usual. Once most of the wooden houses in the camp were destroyed, the target shifted to the noble mansions in the north of the city.

Sizzling cannonballs tore through the sky. One shell landed in the center of a courtyard fountain, splashing up a large spray of murky water, while another smashed through the roof of a stable, causing panicked horses to bolt from their stalls, neighing and rampaging through the mansion, knocking over an unlucky young maid.

As the bombardment continued, the other buildings did not escape the catastrophe. The luxuriously decorated banquet hall was struck by multiple shells; the tables and chairs inside were destroyed, and expensive gold and silver tableware scattered across the floor.

At this moment, the glass chandelier on the ceiling began to sway slightly, then crashed onto the carpet, turning into a pile of gorgeous, useless shards. Shattering along with it was the will of the mansion's owner to resist.

After a long time, Vitus raised his left hand. "Cease fire. Send someone to notify the defenders. From here on out, I will focus my attention on the wealthy district. Unless they surrender, the bombardment will not stop."

While waiting, Vitus spent money to buy a sea bass that had just been caught by a mercenary. He was in a good mood, so he decided to cook it himself. He used a dagger to slit the fish's belly, carefully removed the entrails, peeled away the transparent membrane, and rinsed the inside of the fish with fresh water.

Next, he cut the cleaned fish into small pieces. He crushed several cloves of garlic with the side of his blade and finely chopped a handful of parsley...

Soon, the fish pieces were dropped into warm olive oil. With a "sizzle," the aroma was instantly released. Once the fish skin turned golden, he poured in water and added various seasonings one by one. The broth began to boil, and the fish pieces rolled gently within. Vitus ignored the gazes of others, whistling contentedly.

Piero followed the scent of the fish soup and found him. "My lord, are you not worried at all?"

"It is only the second day; I have plenty of time to carry out the threat I just made. If the nobles in the city insist on holding out and would rather fight to the last for a foreign ruler, then so be it."

He ladled a bowl of fish soup for the mercenary captain, then ladled one for himself, sipping it slowly with a silver spoon to savor the natural sweetness and richness of the broth. Not long after, the governor's guard ran over to report: La Spezia had agreed to surrender.

Vitus acted as if he had heard of a trivial matter. He took Piero's empty bowl and continued to ladle soup for his guest. "I added pepper and truffles to this; drink up."

La Spezia had a long history, but due to geographical limitations, it was only a small city of nearly ten thousand people. Albizzi haggled with the city council and set the ransom for the city at eighty thousand Florin.

According to the prior agreement, Vitus received twenty percent: sixteen thousand Florin. After deducting the hard-earned pay for the mercenaries, he earned eight thousand Florin in one go, equivalent to 28 kilograms of gold.

Piero received his share and was overjoyed. To earn more than half a year's income from just one day of labor—looking back at his twenty-year career as a mercenary, this was the first time he had made such easy money.

"My lord, if you have any trouble in the future, remember to call me! The Rotten Herring mercenary company will never back down!"