Miner

With Genoa regaining its freedom, Milan's influence shrank significantly. Having achieved his initial operational objectives, Albizzi slowed his advance, planning to remain in Genoa for some time.

The ideal scenario would be for Venice to defeat the Milanese army single-handedly, allowing the expeditionary force to join them later and easily divide the spoils of victory.

On May 9th, militia units began gathering in Genoa. The Genoese council claimed it was to maintain order, but in reality, they were guarding against Florence. Fearing the locals might renege on their agreements, Albizzi adamantly refused to withdraw outside the city walls, instead stationing his mercenaries at the Porta di Sant'Andrea on the eastern side. For a time, both sides avoided an open rupture, carefully maintaining a fragile balance.

As the days passed, the expeditionary force grew accustomed to the comfortable life in Genoa, with mercenaries spending their days carousing within the city. Genoa paid them "gratitude fees," but before long, this money flowed back into the local shops, inadvertently stimulating the recovery of commerce.

"From Lucca and La Spezia to the noble estates along the way, the expeditionary force has accumulated a tidy sum. Now that it's all being spent here in Genoa, for most of these mercenaries, this campaign might as well have been fought for nothing."

Vitus maintained his usual frugal habits. Rather than spending lavishly, he wandered the city aimlessly, observing and recording the number of shops, the port's throughput, and various other bits of information.

By early June, Vitus had explored the entire city, yet the commander still hadn't mobilized the troops. It was said they would stay for another month, until the decisive battle between Venice and Milan concluded.

"This is fine, too. Free food and drink all day, plus a handsome wage—you don't see good fortune like this very often."

Over time, Vitus grew weary of the city scenery. One day, when Conan and Piero were ordered to the northern suburbs to collect funds from a silver mine, Vitus, feeling truly bored, decided to tag along for the spectacle.

Leaving through the North Gate, the party turned onto a mountain path to the right. The air was suffused with the warm scent of wild thyme, and the sky was a deep azure, with wisps of thin clouds hanging lazily on the horizon like shredded wool.

Occasionally, they encountered a caravan of mules or dusty pilgrims clutching wooden staves. As they climbed higher, the forests on either side grew sparse, leaving only a few scrub oaks and beeches.

Higher still, the view opened up, revealing vast, exposed hillsides scattered with loose stones. Small, wandering flocks of sheep grazed on the grass between the rocks, the bells around their necks chiming with a clear, lonely, and unhurried rhythm.

At the summit sat an abandoned castle. The family that owned it had died out twenty years ago, and the Genoese council had listed it for sale at thirty thousand Florin, but they could never find a buyer.

Piero spat on the ground. "Thirty thousand Florin? The city council must be out of their minds. The surrounding land is uncultivable; nobody would want it even at half price. You'd be better off buying property in the Holy Roman Empire—cheaper and more practical."

Crossing the summit, the terrain gradually sloped downward. They camped in the wild overnight and arrived at the valley housing the mining district by noon the next day.

The valley floor was a cluster of shacks with muddy, wretched roads where several filthy, fat pigs rolled happily in the mire, attracting swarms of flies that circled overhead.

Piero covered his nose and mouth, holding a document as he found the mine supervisor. "Get to work, and don't waste our time!"

The supervisor checked the signature and seal at the bottom of the document, then opened the warehouse doors, letting the workers carry out crates of silver ingots to be counted in public. The two hundred mercenaries involved in the operation came from different companies and kept watch over one another, so no chaotic scramble for the silver occurred.

Vitus looked around; many mine shafts were scattered along the right side of the valley, the sound of iron picks ringing out incessantly. Occasionally, workers would push carts out of the shafts and dump the ore by the riverbank.

The next stage of processing involved crushing the ore: the river water drove massive wooden wheels on the bank, which in turn powered axles that kept a heavy iron hammer striking continuously. Workers placed the ore into grooves, waiting for the hammer to crush it before sending it to the furnace for smelting.

The furnace used the traditional cupellation method, melting silver ore mixed with lead. After various processes, liquid silver was finally separated and poured into molds to become ingots.

Prolonged exposure to lead was harmful to the body, so Vitus frowned and walked away. "The working conditions in the mines are terrible; I'd rather be back home farming."

Vitus followed the muddy road to the edge of the mining area, where the cleanest and most orderly building stood: a stone church dedicated to Saint Barbara, the patron saint of miners. A dozen miners were kneeling on the floor, whispering prayers in a language that wasn't Italian, but the Greek that Vitus knew best.

"Why leave home just to dig for mines in Genoa?"

Vitus muttered to himself and turned to leave the church, only to be accosted by a Greek miner who had run out. "My lord, are you also a Roman?"

(Note: After the fall of the Western Roman Empire, the Eastern Roman Empire continued the cultural identity of "Rome." Although the official language changed from Latin to Greek, the Greek commoners still considered themselves the legitimate descendants of the "Roman Empire.")

"Yes. I am currently a mercenary for Florence, ordered to the mining district to collect the silver ingots stored in the warehouse."

Hearing Vitus acknowledge his status, the miners clung to him like a lifeline, kneeling on the ground to beg for help. They were from Attica (the region where Athens is located). Initially, the Genoese had hired them as sailors and apprentices with very favorable terms. However, after disembarking, they were inexplicably thrown into the mines, and it was said they had to complete a five-year contract...

After two years of suffering, the miners couldn't take it anymore. This young man had an air of distinction, likely from a noble family, and wore the finest armor; he should have the money to help them buy their freedom.

"My lord, I know how to use a sword. I can serve as your guard." A miner named Marcus pushed to the front, promoting his skills.

Use a sword?

Vitus looked him up and down, unable to find a shred of a master swordsman's aura. "Sigh, I'll just consider it a good deed from a kind-hearted master."

Vitus led them to the mine supervisor. The remaining Greek miners heard the news and came running, also kneeling on the ground to beg this kind-hearted "sucker" for help.

The supervisor took out a thick roster and flipped to the middle. "Lord Doukas, there are one hundred and five surviving Greek miners. Terminating their contracts early requires a penalty fee. Even after deducting their wages, you still need to pay two thousand one hundred Florin. Are you sure?"

Fearing the news would spread and more people would come, Vitus quickly asked Piero to help pay the fee, promising to reimburse him upon their return.

With that, Vitus walked quickly to the edge of the town, seeking some peace and quiet. "Just one sentence, and I've paid 7,350 grams of gold—a 'thousand pieces of gold for a single word,' in a sense. I shouldn't have opened my mouth."