Genoa

On April 28, the expeditionary army laid siege to Loras Castle.

The governor Milan had sent to Genoa had long been prepared. The castle stood just ten miles from the city, and he had personally led three thousand mercenaries to garrison it. He had also positioned a Ribauldequin atop a square tower, where it fired on the artillery positions outside the city.

Vitus paid no mind to the multi-barreled weapon's limited range. Keeping to his previous rhythm, he ordered the new Serpent Cannons and siege guns to batter down a section of the wall. The mercenaries poured through the breach, only to meet the defenders' desperate resistance. Three successive charges were repulsed.

When the assault ended, Piero, covered in blood, complained to Vitus. "There are Ribauldequins inside the castle. All the men who led the first charge were shot down!"

Vitus was at a loss. Once the wall had collapsed, it had formed a steep, five-meter-high slope. The defenders' Ribauldequins were positioned behind it, beyond the reach of the artillery outside the city.

"There's no other way. Tomorrow, I'll switch to another spot and try to blast open as many breaches as possible, so the defenders have to spread out."

Over the next few days, Vitus continued bombarding the walls. Rain delayed them for two days, during which the mercenaries were busy taking shelter and patching their tents, with no time to worry about the garrison at Loras Castle.

At dawn on May 6, the sky was clear and cloudless. Twelve Mercenary Regiments were forming ranks in the grass when, just before the general assault began, a white flag suddenly appeared inside the castle. Dozens of wounded men, supporting one another, came out through the collapsed wall and begged the governor to spare their lives.

After the army's chaplain pleaded with him, Albizzi forcibly suppressed his anger. "Where are the others?"

The wounded men replied, "A large-scale revolt broke out in Genoa yesterday. Loras Castle was no longer worth defending, so the governor took most of his men and slipped away during the night, leaving us here to die."

A revolt in Genoa?

Albizzi sat frozen in his saddle, letting the breeze ruffle his white hair. He looked like no more than an ordinary old countryman.

According to the original plan, he would lead several thousand soldiers to Genoa as its savior, sign a series of cooperation agreements favoring Florence, and secure both prestige and profit. He had never expected this upheaval.

No. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Albizzi summoned the Mercenary Regiment captains, left behind the two Mercenary Regiments that had suffered the heaviest losses, and set out on a forced march with the remaining seven thousand men. They had to reach Genoa before the situation stabilized.

After receiving the order, Vitus left the cumbersome siege guns at Loras Castle and followed the red lily banner on the long march. At two in the afternoon, Genoa's outline came into view.

To the north of Genoa rose the rugged Apennine Mountains; to the south stretched the clear, blue Ligurian Sea. Masts stood thick across its surface, and countless sails billowed like a forest on the move.

The city climbed the steep slopes in tier upon tier. All kinds of houses clustered like a dense honeycomb around countless soaring towers. Local nobles also had a tradition of building tall towers; the higher the tower, the greater its owner's status and power.

Vitus splashed water from his canteen onto his face, dispelling the heavy drowsiness of the afternoon.

"Even though Genoa has declined, it still has a population of eighty thousand, second only to Venice. And it still owns overseas colonies such as Corsica. A starving camel is still bigger than a horse. Florence can't match Genoa's overall strength. The governor may have miscalculated."

As they drew closer, the road beneath their feet changed from dirt to gravel, then to ancient flagstones worn smooth by countless footsteps. The farmhouses on either side were all shut up. The residents huddled inside, watching the fierce-looking mercenaries through cracks in their doors, their hearts uneasy.

At last, Vitus saw Genoa's eastern gate, Porta di Sant'Andrea. The Flag of Saint George fluttered above the gatehouse, while the Visconti family's serpent-devouring-man banner lay discarded on the open ground outside the city.

The gate was shut. More than a hundred bodies lay scattered outside it, some mercenaries clad in armor, others civilians with no weapons at all. Albizzi sent someone ahead to announce their identity. After a long while, a figure appeared behind the battlements...

Vitus was at the back of the ranks and couldn't make out what Albizzi and the Genoese were negotiating. He dismounted and found a shady spot to take an afternoon nap.

After a long while, Pauli shook him awake. "The negotiations are settled. Casella Eredora is willing to cooperate with Florence and has invited us into the city for a banquet."

Vitus yawned. "They're letting the expeditionary army's leaders into the city but leaving the ordinary soldiers outside? Uh, something about this feels dangerous."

Pauli understood what Vitus meant. "You think Casella intends to murder his guests and destroy the family's reputation, built over centuries? Genoa has already angered Milan. I doubt they'd pick a new fight.

"Besides, this banquet is important. I have to build ties with the local families and secure all kinds of business deals. If I stay outside, I might as well hand the opportunity to the Medici, the Auditore family, and the others, and lose a fortune for nothing.

"Whether in business or war, there's always risk. What in this world comes with guaranteed profit and no losses? If you're always chasing safety, you'll never get anything done."

With that, Pauli followed the governor's guards into the city. Vitus trailed behind him. The moment he stepped onto the drawbridge, an inexplicable pang of dread seized him, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead.

No. He couldn't go into the city!

At the crucial moment, he obeyed the instinct stirring deep inside him. Ignoring the strange looks from those around him, he turned and headed back to the open ground outside the city.

Pauli passed through Porta di Sant'Andrea and followed the procession into a steep, narrow street. Four- and five-story stone houses lined the roadside, their ground floors given over to shops and workshops, with living quarters above. The towering buildings kept the alley in shade all year round, allowing only a narrow strip of sky to show overhead.

After the unrest the previous night, few people were out on the streets. The party made its way unhindered toward the north of the city. As the ground rose, the streets gradually widened, and newly built mansions belonging to nobles and wealthy merchants began to appear on either side.

At last, the party reached the highest point in the city.

Before going inside, Pauli looked back one last time, taking in the terracotta rooftops stacked in tiers below, the forest of masts in the distance, and the Ligurian Sea shimmering beneath the setting sun.

Just then, the bell tower of the Cathedral of San Lorenzo began to ring. Its striking façade, banded in black and white marble, stood out at once. Soon, bell towers throughout the city joined in, their chimes drawing flocks of birds into the sky. White pigeons, seagulls, and a small group of black ravens circled overhead.

The banquet hall had a perfectly normal atmosphere. Pauli greeted everyone with practiced ease and discussed business deals with them. For more than a decade, the Di Maggio family had held firmly to second place, never managing to surpass the Medici family. Pauli was determined to turn things around and make all the family's enterprises flourish.

"Vitus is probably outside the city, chewing on cold salt pork. He's too timid to do business."