The Pact

After finishing his work, Vitus had two soldiers carry a barrel of wine and headed back to the center of the camp.

At this moment, the Hungarians had just finished their training; they led their mounts back to the stables, personally unsaddled the horses, groomed their manes, and then cleaned their hooves, carefully picking out the gravel wedged in the gaps of the horseshoes.

Once finished, Hunyadi fed the brown horse warm water, as well as oats and hay mixed with salt. The brown horse lowered its head to chew, its ears twitching from time to time, occasionally rubbing its head against its master's cheek.

After finishing his tasks, Hunyadi found Vitus. "Sorry to have kept you waiting."

"It's fine. I've been bored lately, and time is the one thing I have in abundance."

Vitus introduced the Hungarian to a specialty from the Greek region—Retsina—which was sealed with pine resin, giving it a unique, rich aroma.

After a few cups of wine, Vitus shifted the topic to the Hussite Wars, which interested him most, and the legendary, miraculous Wagenburg.

"You're interested in that thing?" Hunyadi picked up a piece of firewood and sketched a rough outline on the ground:

The Wagenburg was modified from peasant four-wheeled wagons. Each wagon was pulled by two draft horses, and the carriage featured thickened wooden planks and a roof to withstand arrow fire.

During battle, the Hussite militia would arrange the wagons into a circular formation, with archers staying inside the carriages, firing at the enemy with crossbows and hand cannons.

Vitus pondered for a moment, then suddenly thought of his own expertise in artillery. "If that's the case, why not use cannons to bombard the wagon formation?"

"It's not that simple. Jan Zizka is the most outstanding infantry commander I have ever seen; he is proficient in field battles, harassment, ambushes, and defending cities. Sometimes, when the army is marching in the field, if you aren't careful, a large group of Hussite peasants will swarm out from all directions with spears, making them impossible to guard against.

Last time, the Black Knight Zawisza was careless and was captured by the peasants in a daze. Fortunately, he had an old friendship with Jan Zizka—both of them participated in the Battle of Grunwald—so he was released; otherwise, he wouldn't have made it back..."

After speaking for a long time, Hunyadi's mood grew increasingly dejected. "This war is truly stifling; we are completely trapped in the enemy's rhythm. I've been thinking lately, if I were the commander, I wouldn't know how to deal with it either."

Vitus also picked up a piece of firewood to sketch on the ground, believing that geographical factors played a major role. "Don't belittle yourself. Hungary's superior branch is light cavalry, which is not suitable for fighting in the mountains of Bohemia. On a different battlefield, you are no worse than Jan Zizka."

Hunyadi's hand froze mid-cup; it was the first time he had heard someone praise his command ability, and it came from an Italian mercenary he had just met.

Vitus pressed for details about the Hussite Wars, but unfortunately, Hunyadi's position was that of a court attendant, and he had seen little combat against the Hussites. Thus, he changed the subject and began to inquire about light cavalry tactics and precautions.

If Jan Zizka was the most excellent infantry commander, then in another twenty years, Hunyadi would grow into the most excellent light cavalry commander through the war. The opportunity was rare, and Vitus threw out various questions one after another until Hunyadi helplessly held his forehead.

"You are such a strange person. You don't play dice, you don't seek out women, and you don't like hunting on horseback. You put all your thoughts into war. I've lived for over thirty years, and you're the first mercenary I've ever met like this..."

Even so, Hunyadi still answered the other's questions. In exchange, he asked about the increasingly popular artillery in the Italy region, showing particular interest in the lighter Serpent Cannon and the Ribauldequin.

Based on a full year of practical experience, Vitus gave the following evaluation:

"I do not recommend using the Ribauldequin. The Serpent Cannon can fire solid shot and grapeshot; solid shot destroys buildings, while grapeshot kills personnel. The Ribauldequin can only kill personnel; its use is too singular.

Furthermore, the Serpent Cannon's grapeshot is easy to load—just stuff in a bag of gunpowder and a bag of iron balls, and you can ignite and fire. The Ribauldequin, however, requires loading dozens of barrels. Soldiers become flustered in battle, the loading speed is sluggish, and sometimes by the time the battle is over, they haven't even finished the second round of loading."

A bag of gunpowder?

Hunyadi caught the key information. Using textiles to package measured gunpowder could significantly increase loading speed. It seemed this artillery commander was quite competent and not just a fraud with an empty title.

On January 2, 1424, after three days of negotiations, Milan, Venice, and Florence signed an agreement. Milan renounced its sovereignty over Genoa, ceded a large territory east of the Adda River to Venice, and paid a high indemnity.

On the other hand, the envoy representing Sigismund recognized the legality of Venice's occupation of the new lands and acknowledged Florence's annexation of Lucca and the surrounding areas. In return, Venice and Florence presented Sigismund with large gifts, promising that one day, when Sigismund traveled to Rome for his coronation, both countries would provide assistance of the highest standard...

"Peace is the most precious thing. I congratulate you on making the right decision."

Liechtenstein was the first to sign at the end of the agreement. This operation had been perfect; they had maintained the balance of power in the Italy region through diplomatic means alone and had also reaped 300,000 Florin, covering the funds for the next crusade against the Hussites.

Albizzi's expression was calm as he also signed his name at the end of the agreement. Despite encountering many setbacks, he had won in the end. "Milan has been weakened, and Venice's strength has greatly increased. Next, the object I should be wary of is Venice."

He put down his quill and glanced at the Venetian representative without a trace, beginning to think about a more pressing issue: now that the war was over, how much should he set aside for severance pay?

"It's finally over."

Liechtenstein loathed the cold, damp weather of Northern Italy. He and his accompanying guards returned north along the original route. On the way, Hunyadi suddenly slapped his thigh.

"I remember now. When the crown prince of the Byzantine Empire attended the banquet, his appearance was somewhat similar to Anthony Doukas. No wonder I found Anthony so familiar."

His companion guessed, "Could it be that Anthony possesses the bloodline of the Byzantine royal family?"

Liechtenstein joined the conversation. "The Palaiologos family has many members. Besides the main branch, there are a large number of collateral branches in various places. I estimate this person's bloodline comes from some remote village; it doesn't amount to much."

Hunyadi still felt something was wrong. The man's Latin was too fluent, and his knowledge in mathematics, astronomy, architecture, and theology was equally profound. This was not an education a commoner family could provide, nor could a low-level noble manage it.

The cold wind whistled. Liechtenstein suddenly tightened his reins. He dismounted, picked up a crossbow, and crept toward a wild deer in the distance, tossing back a sentence before leaving:

"Stop guessing. He couldn't possibly be a prince of the Palaiologos family. A person like that wouldn't stay in the palace enjoying himself, but instead hide his identity to go to Italy to fight, spending his days mixed in with dirty mercenaries. Do you think that's possible?"