The White Knight

The allied forces had advanced so quickly that Florence had almost thought the report was fake. After verifying it from multiple sources, Albizzi ordered the troops to make a forced march, reaching the outskirts of Milan before the main assault began.

"Anthony Doukas, you'll continue commanding the artillery siege. Do a good job, and don't bring shame upon Florence."

"Understood." Vitus accepted the order. He rode around Milan once, surveying the city. It stood on a plain, its walls stretching about five kilometers in total and forming an irregular circle, with no obvious weak points.

Back at camp, he directed the soldiers to build artillery platforms. The siege guns were still on their way, so for now they could only bombard the battlements with Serpent Cannons.

The bombardment continued all afternoon. After nightfall, the weather began to change.

At first, a bitterly cold wind blew. Before long, a fine drizzle pattered down. By the middle of the night, the rain grew heavier, until at last it became an unrelenting winter downpour. Rain poured from the sky without pause.

By dawn, the camp had turned into a vast quagmire. The artillery positions were in the worst shape. Though the powder barrels had been covered with waterproof tarps, the damp had seeped in everywhere. The artillerymen discovered in despair that their gunpowder had grown damp and clumpy, and would no longer catch fire.

"Blame Bussone and Albizzi for dragging things out. Italian winters are cold, damp, and rainy. How are we supposed to besiege a city in weather like this?"

When the rain eased somewhat, Vitus had the soldiers build shelters over the cannons. An inexplicable premonition came over him: perhaps they wouldn't take this city after all.

At the end of December, Sigismund dispatched his trusted minister Kuno von Liechtenstein to order Milan, Venice, and Florence to cease hostilities in the name of the Holy Roman Empire.

In 1395, Gian Galeazzo Visconti had been made Duke of Milan by the Holy Roman Empire. Legally, the Duchy of Milan fell under Sigismund's rule, giving him ample grounds to intervene in the war.

Faced with Sigismund's threat, Albizzi readily backed down. He had never planned to destroy Milan in the first place. Northern Italy couldn't be allowed to fall under Venice's sole dominion; it was best to maintain a balance of power.

With Florence backing down, Venice had no choice but to abandon the siege. Their strength lay in their navy; they couldn't exactly sail their fleet onto land and fight Sigismund there.

Under the supervision of the imperial envoy, representatives from Milan, Venice, and Florence began lengthy negotiations in Albizzi's tent.

At last, the war was about to end.

Wrapped in a thick black wool cloak, Vitus trudged through the deep, uneven mud. Clutching a supply requisition list in his left hand, he searched for the quartermaster.

The camp was laid out in a disorderly fashion. Prostitutes and merchants moved openly between the tents, loudly touting their wares. The mercenaries' tents were clustered on higher ground, while the low-lying areas had been softened by pooled rainwater, forming a vast expanse of dark brown mud.

After walking several hundred paces, Vitus's cloak was speckled with mud. He breathed out a cloud of white mist and headed straight for the center of camp. The commanders, Pauli, and other senior figures lived here, and large quantities of supplies were stored here as well. A wooden palisade stood around the perimeter, with a ditch beyond it to keep ordinary soldiers from prying.

Inside the palisade, Vitus found a group of unfamiliar soldiers drinking and roasting meat around a bonfire. He tried to guess who they were. One of them noticed him looking and warmly invited him to join them.

"Who are you?"

A man in his thirties belched and replied in halting Latin, "Hungarian royal guards. We're escorting Liechtenstein here for negotiations on the king's orders."

(Sigismund ruled the Holy Roman Empire and also held the titles of King of Hungary, King of Croatia, and King of Bohemia.)

Vitus sat beside the man. Before he could ask any more questions, a huge silver goblet was shoved into his hands. Glug, glug—he tipped his head back and drained it. The moment he set it down, someone beside him filled it again.

After several rounds, Vitus was a little muddled. He grumbled about the war ending so abruptly. "Bussone's the one who messed things up. For the sake of a little money, thirty thousand soldiers were forced to stop outside Milan. If you ask me, Milan still has plenty of strength. There'll be more fighting in the future."

The other man was just as drunk. Unintentionally, he let slip a secret. "No, this isn't Francesco Bussone's fault.

"Even if you'd besieged Milan two months earlier, Liechtenstein would have ordered you to stop two months earlier. His Majesty had been waiting for this moment for half a year. He wanted to weaken Milan, but he also wanted to prevent its destruction and keep Venice from dominating Northern Italy."

Vitus was deeply shaken. He held his muddled head and thought Sigismund's approach made a lot of sense.

Northern Italy was the wealthiest region in Europe during this period, richer than Flanders—the Low Countries where the Netherlands and Belgium lay—Île-de-France, the region around Paris, and Bohemia, which was in modern-day Czechoslovakia.

If Venice seized Northern Italy, it would gain a great deal of food and population. Combined with its fleet in the Mediterranean Sea and its many commercial colonies, it was sure to become a new great power.

Vitus began to understand. "From this perspective, Europe's situation is far too complicated. If any power expands too much, it's bound to make its neighbors wary. The worst-case scenario would be a coalition of countries forming to oppose it."

After eating and drinking his fill, Vitus rose to say goodbye. "My name is Anthony Doukas, and I'm Florence's artillery commander. I have something to take care of later. I'll come find you for another drink tomorrow."

The other man nodded with a smile. "János Hunyadi, son of the knight Voicu. I'm currently serving as one of Sigismund's royal guards."

The "White Knight" Hunyadi from history? He hadn't expected to meet him here.

Vitus studied the man's appearance. Hunyadi had a head of tousled, light brown curls, the ends a little unruly from going untrimmed for so long. His face was square, and his nose was slightly red from drinking. A narrow mustache sat above his upper lip. As for their clothes, he and his companions wore traditional Hungarian robes over their chain mail. The green wool was embroidered with vivid gold designs.

Hmm, I hope these men stay a few more days. I still have plenty of questions I need answered.

Vitus found the tent of the quartermaster Usoya and completed the necessary procedures. Belching, he made his way back to the camp in the southwestern corner. This area was also separated from the others by a palisade and ditch, and had its own drainage channels. Its sanitary conditions were far better than those of the other units.

The only thing people complained about was that Vitus strictly forbade prostitutes and merchants from visiting. The soldiers could only trade out in the open space beyond.

"Marcus! Damien!"

Vitus called over two company commanders and had the soldiers collect their supplies according to the list. The next moment, he toppled onto his bed and slept until dawn.

Under the morning sun, Vitus went through his usual hour of exercise, then drank a large bowl of salted meat and oatmeal porridge before assigning the day's training to his subordinates.