Borrowing Money

After they reached a preliminary understanding, Lord Di Maggio grew increasingly warm toward Vitus, treating him almost like one of the family. He lifted his celadon teacup and watched the wisps of steam drift from the tea as he asked about Vitus's plans for the future.

Vitus: "I'll keep working as a mercenary. I'm looking for an employer who'll offer a fair price."

After thinking for a long while, Lord Di Maggio advised him to steer clear of Sigismund and avoid taking part in the Hussite Wars in Bohemia. Seeing the young man's puzzled expression, he explained earnestly:

"Earlier, I said you had the same exceptional military talent as Henry V and Jan Zizka. Well, I'll admit I was exaggerating a little. You're certainly a capable fighter, but you lack battle experience. You can't compare with Zizka, who's been campaigning for decades.

"Take my advice: don't join the Hussite Wars. Even the famed Black Knight, Zawisza, was captured. If you go gallivanting around the mountains of Bohemia with your cannons, you could easily find yourself trapped in the peasant army's encirclement. Would you really want my precious daughter to become a widow?"

Did he really think so little of me?

Sensing Vitus's eagerness to prove himself, Giulio took a letter in French from his desk drawer and began reminiscing about the past.

"In 1415, England and France went to war on a grand scale. Several Florentine banks and I provided funds to France. I never expected the French army to be so useless. At Agincourt, six thousand English troops faced twenty thousand French. England won a great victory, suffering only a few hundred casualties, while the French lost more than ten thousand men, including fifteen hundred knights!

"The night the news reached Florence, two bankers chose to jump into the river. Fortunately, I had enough businesses to barely weather the disaster. Later, France borrowed from us again and again, losing battle after battle, until England and France signed the Treaty of Troyes in 1420. And just like that, the four hundred thousand florins Florence had lent became a bad debt. We never got them back."

Giulio hated his past self. If only he'd known, he would've lent the money to King Henry V of England instead. That deal would have made his fortune greater than the Medici family's by now.

Not long ago, the French Dauphin had remembered the gullible Florentine bankers and sent a letter full of earnest pleas, asking to buy—on credit—a large quantity of weapons and cloth, and to recruit an army to continue the fight.

Giulio explained the letter's contents to Vitus and asked his future son-in-law to make a trip to France. It was partly for business and partly to keep Vitus occupied, so he wouldn't join the Hussite Wars and die at the hands of some Bohemian peasant.

"Take your Mercenary Regiment and a small amount of weapons to France, and see how things stand there. If the French army has little chance of winning, find an opportunity to get back to Italy as soon as possible. If the French still have a chance to turn things around, write to me, and I'll send the rest of the supplies over."

So I'm supposed to handle the market research?

Vitus took a sip of the warm tea and, after some halfhearted reluctance, agreed.

Over the next week or so, Vitus busied himself recruiting Greek laborers from nearby, expanding his Mercenary Regiment to four hundred men. During that time, he occasionally dined at Di Maggio Estate and met Agnes twice. Given the circumstances, they had no chance to talk privately; they exchanged only polite greetings.

In late February, the Tuna Mercenary Group boarded riverboats and traveled west along the Arno River to Pisa.

After entering the city, Vitus's attention was drawn to a white tower about fifty meters tall. Without a doubt, it was the local landmark, the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

The winter sun lazily washed over the marble exterior, and the tower cast a long shadow across the square, like the hand of a sundial. Vitus slowly approached, counting the levels: one, two... seven, eight.

He touched the tower's cold marble and walked around its base. Looking up from the ground, he felt an unsettling sense of imbalance, as if the whole tower were about to collapse.

Just then, the church bells rang, startling a flock of pigeons into flight. They circled the leaning tower before settling on the topmost arcade.

After making a donation, Vitus was allowed inside. He climbed the stone stairs to the top floor and called down to the Greek mercenaries below, "Which do you think will hit the ground first, a big iron ball or a small one?"

Unfortunately, the Greek mercenaries weren't interested. Damien shouted a few perfunctory words back before continuing to talk with his companions about the sweetheart he'd left back home.

The locals were used to the white tower and paid no attention to the Greek who was shouting and making a fuss. They watched impassively as he dropped two balls from the top...

At one in the afternoon, the Tuna Mercenary Group left Pisa. After years of silt buildup, Pisa's harbor was in terrible shape. It could accommodate only small riverboats and coastal fishing vessels, so they had to walk ten miles south to Livorno and transfer to larger seagoing ships.

This time, Vitus brought five hundred sets of brand-new armor, five hundred crossbows and their spanning devices, eight siege cannons, and the eight Three-Pounders assigned to the Mercenary Regiment.

As engineering advanced, a type of treadwheel crane was gradually becoming popular at Italian ports. These machines stood over ten meters tall, with an upright circular wheel beneath them. Workers stood inside the wheel, powering it by walking on the treads.

As the wheel turned slowly, the massive siege cannons were hoisted onto the merchant ship's deck. Thanks to the machine's efficiency, Vitus's baggage was loaded in just two hours.

At dusk, taking advantage of the receding tide, four large sailing ships one after another left the harbor. Vitus stood on the stern deck and sketched with a homemade charcoal pencil. If he lived long enough to retire, these notes and drawings would become his most precious memories.

In autumn and winter, conditions on the Mediterranean Sea were rough. The fleet traveled slowly along the coastline, avoiding storms and the rampant North African pirates.

In early March, the fleet reached Port of Sète in southeastern France. Vitus handed the harbor official a list of supplies and the Dauphin's letter. The official sent a servant to report the news, then went aboard himself to inspect the weapons being transported by the Tuna Mercenary Group in the ship's damp, gloomy hold.

"That's all?"

Vitus ignored the harbor official's displeasure and replied calmly, "That's all Lord Di Maggio gave us. Once you pay, he'll send more supplies."

The harbor official said no more. He arranged for the Tuna Mercenary Group to stay at an estate outside the city. "The Battle of Agincourt left many noble families without heirs. A lot of estates have no one to inherit them, so they're perfect for housing you. Don't cause trouble while you're here. We'll send supplies regularly."

Vitus: "And then?"

The harbor official irritably ran a hand through his hair. "The Dauphin is handling affairs in Bourges. He's ordered the Italian mercenaries to stay in Port of Sète and await further orders. He contacted a lot of Mercenary Regiments this time, and I estimate they won't arrive until April. Damn it, you came too early. Now we have to prepare extra food."