Tuna Mercenary Group

After leaving the mining area, Piero pulled Vitus aside privately. "Are you hiring these miners to dig tunnels during the upcoming siege? My own unit has many miners from Bohemia; we could easily organize them into a squad."

Vitus replied, "From Bohemia to Italy, that is no simple journey."

Piero scratched his head, struggling to find a louse. "There is no help for it. The Hussite Wars broke out in Bohemia, the situation is volatile, and many silver mines have shut down. It is normal for unemployed miners to flee abroad to make a living. However, before recruiting new members, remember to vet their backgrounds. A group of miners looked promising earlier, so I invited them to a tavern for drinks. Once they were drunk, I managed to pry a shocking secret out of them..."

Piero paused for a moment, sensing the young man's impatience, and offered a mysterious smile.

"That group of miners came from the mining hub of Kuttenberg. Six years ago, they caused a scene at a tavern and, for reasons unknown, murdered the tax-collecting count and his retinue, then dismembered their corpses and openly discarded them in the street. That was far too excessive. I worried that if they were ever in a bad mood, they might kill me too, so I did not hire them."

Returning to Genoa along the original path, Vitus gathered the miners. "You are free to leave, or you may stay and work for me. The wages and benefits are the same as those for regular mercenaries."

After two years of labor, the Greek miners had grown accustomed to sticking together. They huddled to whisper among themselves before deciding to work for this wealthy master.

"You truly do not intend to go home? There are many ships in the harbor. If you pick a merchant vessel heading toward Attica or the Peloponnese and offer to work on board in exchange for passage, the captain likely won't refuse."

Marcus wore a mournful expression. "Before I left, I boasted to the people in my village and swore I would become a master swordsman. Now that I've ended up in this sorry state, I have no face to return. Sigh, I had better work for you; at least I won't have to face the mockery of my fellow villagers."

Another reason was the pressure of survival. Greece is mountainous, and arable land is extremely limited. Even if these miners returned home, they would not find enough farmland to support themselves.

As early as the Classical period, whenever a Greek city-state faced overpopulation, it would send citizens to establish colonies along the coasts of the Mediterranean and the Black Sea, such as Naples, Marseille, and Byzantine (which was designated as the new Roman capital by Constantine the Great in the fourth century and renamed Constantinople).

In a daze, Vitus saw his own reflection in the miners. They were all fellow sufferers; he could find no way forward in Constantinople, and he, too, was stuck in Italy earning hard money.

"They are all poor souls. Very well, follow me and earn your keep."

He led the group into the artillery camp and took out a blank ledger to record the miners' names, ages, and places of origin. Half an hour later, Vitus closed the book.

"From this day forward, you are soldiers under my employ. The rules of the mercenary group are as follows..."

Vitus recited twenty-two rules in one breath, leaving the miners dizzy. At the end, someone asked for the name of the mercenary group. Vitus scratched his head, suddenly recalling the delicious taste of the tuna soup he had at a banquet a few days prior, and simply chose "Tuna" as the name.

"Fall in line. Follow me to collect your equipment."

Vitus found the Florentine noble in charge of logistics. "Young Master Usoya, is the armor captured last time still available?"

Usoya Ricardo was busy writing a letter to his lover and waved a hand impatiently. "Follow my guards to the warehouse. Take whatever you want from the spoils, then find me to settle the accounts when you're done."

Usoya tossed a key ring from his waist to the guard, then picked up a small knife to carefully scrape away some ink marks. Vitus glanced at the parchment and realized this man had a profound grasp of Latin; he was quoting classics and using the most elegant calligraphy. It seemed he had poured all his focus into such things.

Entering the warehouse, the miners began selecting their protective gear. The Milanese plate armor captured earlier had already been picked over by various mercenary groups, leaving only some chainmail and brigandines.

Vitus did not skimp on this. "Try to choose brigandines. If some parts are damaged, strip the good pieces from other brigandines to assemble a complete set of armor."

The brigandine was a transitional piece of equipment between chainmail and plate armor, with defensive capabilities falling between the two.

Knights in the early Middle Ages wore chainmail over a padded gambeson. To gain better protection, some began fixing metal plates onto the gambeson to cover the chest, abdomen, and limbs, resulting in the brigandine that became popular in the 13th century. Clearly, this armor was cheaper than a full suit of plate.

After selecting the armor, Vitus led them to another warehouse to collect halberds, maces, and daggers. Although they belonged to the artillery unit, they would still need to engage in melee combat at critical moments. The halberd was suited for fighting in formation, while the mace was ideal for chaotic skirmishes.

Following that came clothing, footwear, flint, iron pots, and other daily necessities.

A long while later, Vitus found Usoya again. The latter was still writing, though he had switched recipients and was now writing in French, using the high-difficulty "sonnet" form. Vitus could not understand it, but he was deeply impressed.

Come to think of it, he hadn't written to Constantinople in a long time. What excuse could he use to muddle through?

Study art? No, he only knew how to sketch with charcoal, not the various techniques of oil painting. Hmm, he would say he was delving into mathematics. If they pressed him, he would just throw out a few math problems to stump them...

Vitus was busy hoodwinking his parents and brother, while Usoya was busy fawning over his lovers. Both were distracted, and after a muddled accounting session, Vitus readily paid thirteen hundred Florin.

"If I had purchased these at a blacksmith shop in the city, the price would have at least doubled." With this thought in mind, he returned to the camp with his men, satisfied.

The next morning, Vitus found the Rotten Herring Mercenary Group and paid to hire an experienced mercenary as an instructor to teach the miners the techniques of using the halberd.

The halberd was about 2.3 meters long, with a spear tip at the very front for thrusting at enemies and repelling cavalry charges.

Below the spear tip was a crescent-shaped axe blade, primarily used for hacking. The heavy blade could generate immense destructive force, enough to cleave through thick plate armor and helmets. Vitus remembered a 15th-century King of Burgundy, Charles the Bold, who had fought on the front lines in a certain battle, only to have his helmet split open by a Swiss halberd, with his skull cleaved in two along with it—an incident that became the famous "skull-splitting" event.

On the back of the axe blade was a hook. During a chaotic melee, a soldier could use it to catch the gaps in a cavalryman's armor and drag him off his horse; a dismounted heavy knight with limited mobility was easily dealt with.

In combat between infantry, halberdiers could also use the hook to snag an enemy's leg or shield, disrupting their balance.