After leaving the mining district, Piero sought Vitus out in private. "You hired these miners to dig tunnels during future sieges, didn't you? My company has plenty of Bohemian miners, too. We can form them into a unit when the time comes."
Vitus said, "That's quite a journey—from Bohemia (later Czechoslovakia) to Italy."
Piero scratched through his hair, struggling to find a louse. "It can't be helped. The Hussite Wars broke out in Bohemia, and the situation's unstable. Many silver mines have shut down, so it's only natural that unemployed miners have gone abroad to make a living.
"Still, before recruiting new members, make sure you find out where they came from. There was a group of miners who seemed decent. I invited them to a tavern for a drink, got them drunk, and learned a shocking secret..."
Piero paused for a moment. Sensing the young man's impatience, he gave a mysterious smile.
"Those miners came from Kuttenberg, a major mining town. Six years ago, they got into trouble at a tavern and, for reasons unknown, killed the count who'd come to collect taxes and his attendants. Then they dismembered their bodies and brazenly dumped them in the street. That was going too far. I worried that one day they might get in a bad mood and kill me, too, so I didn't hire them."
Returning to Genoa by the same route, Vitus gathered the miners. "You can leave, or you can stay and work for me. Your pay and benefits will be the same as those of ordinary mercenaries."
After two long years of labor, the Greek miners had grown used to sticking together. They huddled up and discussed it in low voices, then decided to work for this wealthy gentleman.
"You really don't want to go home? There are plenty of ships in the harbor. Pick a merchant ship bound for Attica or the Peloponnese and offer to work aboard in exchange for passage. The captain shouldn't refuse."
Marcus looked crestfallen. "Before I left, I bragged to the people in my village that I'd become a master swordsman. I've ended up in this miserable state, and I don't have the face to go back. Ah, I'd better work for you. At least I won't have to face the villagers' mockery."
There was another reason: the pressure of making a living. Greece was full of mountains, but had very little land suitable for farming. Even if the miners went home, they wouldn't find enough farmland to support themselves.
As far back as the Classical era, whenever the population of a Greek city-state grew too large, it would send its citizens to establish colonies along the coasts of the Mediterranean and Black Sea. Naples, Marseille, and Byzantium were examples. (In the fourth century AD, Emperor Constantine the Great made Byzantium the new capital of Rome and renamed it Constantinople.)
For a moment, Vitus saw his own reflection in the miners. They were all fellow travelers, cast adrift at the ends of the earth. He, too, had found no prospects in Constantinople and was stuck in Italy, earning his bread through hard work.
"They're all poor souls. Very well, from now on, follow me and earn your keep."
He led the group into the artillery camp and took out a blank ledger, recording the miners' names, ages, and places of origin. Half an hour later, Vitus closed the book.
"Starting today, you're soldiers in my employ. Here are the rules of the Mercenary Regiment..."
Vitus rattled off twenty-two rules in one go, leaving the miners' heads spinning. At the end, someone asked the name of the Mercenary Regiment. Vitus scratched his head, then suddenly remembered the tuna soup he'd enjoyed at a banquet a few days earlier. He decided to use "Tuna" as the name.
"Fall in. Follow me to collect your equipment."
Vitus found the Florentine noble in charge of logistics. "Young Master Usoya, do you still have the armor we captured last time?"
Usoya Ricardo was busy writing a letter to his lover and waved impatiently. "Go with my guard to the warehouse. Take whatever you want from the spoils, then come and settle the bill with me."
Usoya took the ring of keys from his belt and tossed it to the guard, then picked up a small knife and carefully scraped away some words written in ink. Vitus glanced at the parchment and saw that the man had an impressive command of Latin. He quoted classical texts and even wrote in the most elegant script. It seemed he put all his effort into this.
Once they entered the warehouse, the miners began choosing their own armor. The Milanese plate armor captured earlier had been taken by the other Mercenary Regiments, leaving only some mail and brigandines.
Vitus didn't try to save money on this. "Choose brigandines whenever you can. If any parts are damaged, take good pieces from other brigandines and try to put together a complete suit of armor."
The brigandine was a transitional form of armor between mail and plate, offering protection somewhere between the two.
In the early Middle Ages, knights wore mail, with a padded garment beneath it. To get better protection, some people fixed metal plates onto the padded garment, covering the chest, abdomen, and limbs. This became the brigandine, which was popular in the thirteenth century. Clearly, this type of armor was cheaper than a full suit of plate.
After they had chosen their armor, Vitus led them to another warehouse to collect halberds, one-handed maces, and daggers. Though they belonged to the artillery corps, they would still have to fight hand to hand when the moment came. Halberds were suited to fighting in formation, while one-handed maces were better for a melee.
After that came clothes, shoes, socks, and daily necessities such as flint and iron pots.
Much later, Vitus sought out Usoya again. The latter was still writing a letter, though he'd changed the recipient. This time, he was writing in French, using the challenging poetic form of a sonnet. Vitus couldn't understand it, but was deeply impressed.
Come to think of it, he hadn't written to Constantinople in ages. What excuse could he come up with to bluff his way through?
Studying art? No, he only knew how to sketch with charcoal; he didn't know any oil-painting techniques. Hmm, he could say he was studying mathematics. If they pressed him, he'd just toss out a few math problems and stump them...
Vitus was busy fooling his parents and elder brother, while Usoya was busy pleasing his lovers. Both were distracted, and they settled the accounts in a muddle. Vitus readily paid one thousand three hundred florins.
"If I bought these from a blacksmith in the city, they'd cost at least twice as much." With that thought in mind, he happily led his men back to their quarters.
The next morning, Vitus found the Rotten Herring Mercenary Group and paid to hire an experienced mercenary as an instructor, to teach the miners how to use halberds.
A halberd was about 2.3 meters long. Its tip was a spear point, used to thrust at enemies and repel cavalry charges.
Below the spear point was a crescent-shaped axe blade, mainly used for hacking. Its heavy blade could deliver immense force, enough to split thick plate armor and helmets. Vitus remembered Charles the Bold, a fifteenth-century Duke of Burgundy. He'd fought in person in a battle, only to have a Swiss halberd split his helmet and cleave his skull in two, in the infamous "Skull-Splitting" incident.
On the back of the axe blade was a hook. In a melee, soldiers could use it to catch on gaps in a cavalryman's armor and drag him from his horse. A dismounted heavy cavalryman was awkward on foot and easy to finish off.
In a fight between infantrymen, halberdiers could also use the hook to catch an enemy's leg or shield and throw off his balance.
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