The Order

After leaving the University of Florence, Vitus headed to the cannon workshop. He found the blacksmiths making a ribauldequin and watched them forge iron tubes.

Clang! Clang!

The blacksmith repeatedly hammered a flat strip of wrought iron until it curled into a tube. Then he heated it, sprinkled powder over the seam, and continued hammering to reinforce it.

A ribauldequin usually had 10–20 iron barrels. The blacksmiths mounted them side by side on a movable wooden carriage. In battle, they lit the fuse, firing all the barrels at once.

Vitus found the workshop supervisor and asked to order a large number of iron tubes. "Make the bores half as wide as before, and increase their length. Remember to add something to the end of each tube..."

In his view, a ribauldequin's barrels were much like the barrels of matchlocks and hand cannons. All were made by hammering wrought iron, and both fired by igniting powder at the breech to launch a projectile from the barrel.

Since the blacksmiths could make ribauldequins, surely they could also produce barrels for matchlocks.

Historical records showed that by the mid-fifteenth century, the English would invent a new ignition device and firing mechanism, transforming the hand cannon into the matchlock. The design was not complicated. Vitus planned to draw up a sketch soon and put this new weapon on the battlefield.

"Why do you need these iron tubes?" One blacksmith untied his filthy apron, wondering if the man had a screw loose. The next moment, Vitus pulled a bag of gold coins from his robes, silencing everyone's doubts.

"Very well. As you wish." Since their customer was willing to pay, the supervisor and the blacksmiths readily agreed.

After leaving the southern part of the city, Vitus found the Tuna Mercenary Group encamped outside the walls and introduced himself to the many Greek laborers.

After hearing his explanation, Marcus thought he was joking. He awkwardly forced a smile, while the other Greek mercenaries burst out laughing one after another, claiming to be sword-bearing guards, military governors, provincial governors, imperial senators, and grand marshals...

Several minutes passed, but Vitus remained expressionless. Damien realized their employer wasn't joking, so he tugged at Marcus's sleeve and ordered the soldiers to stop fooling around.

"My lord—uh, Your Highness, you're not joking?"

Vitus replied calmly, "That's right. I'll be getting engaged to Agnes Di Maggio soon, so I can't keep using my old identity."

Considering their employer's usual words and actions, and his level of education, Damien accepted his explanation and raised an important question. "So, what exactly is our status? Are we part of the imperial army, or...?"

"Same as always. I pay you, and you work for me. For now, keep recruiting Greek laborers from the surrounding area. After the wedding, I'll take on mercenary contracts again."

The ranks then broke up. The mercenaries headed to their separate campfires to cook dinner, their conversation centered on their employer's true identity.

On the whole, they felt positively about it. Serving a member of the royal family was better than serving an ordinary mercenary captain. At least a royal would care about his reputation and wouldn't withhold their wages and bonuses for no reason.

One morning, not long afterward.

At the Di Maggio Estate outside the city, Agnes was getting ready amid a crowd of women. She changed into a red velvet gown and put on elaborate jewelry. After a long and busy preparation, she was helped into the courtyard, her eyes fixed on Vitus among the crowd.

Even on an occasion like this, Vitus wore nothing flashy. He had on only a dignified, deep purple formal outfit, with a sword at his waist. He stared blankly at a nearby fig tree, seemingly lost in thought.

Soon, Giulio led his daughter into the middle of the crowd. A notary from the city council unrolled a parchment scroll and loudly read out the marriage contract and the dowry Di Maggio had paid: thirty thousand gold florins, a vineyard in the Arno River valley, and assorted jewelry.

The various tedious formalities finally ended at one in the afternoon. Vitus mounted his horse and joined the procession into the city. At the head of the party, riders held aloft silk banners embroidered with the coats of arms of both families as the procession advanced in grand array along the main road.

The sun blazed overhead, its light spilling like molten gold across the cobbled main road. The houses on either side kept their shutters closed, while passersby gathered beneath the eaves to discuss the unexpected engagement ceremony.

Vitus paid no attention to their chatter. His formal collar was fastened so tightly that it was even more unbearable than marching in armor.

The procession crossed the old bridge over the Arno River, went around the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, which was still under construction, and slowly made its way north. By then, Vitus was so hot he felt dizzy. Sweat trickled down his temples, and his vision bobbed up and down with the horse. Only one thought remained in his mind:

"Why did they have to ride into the city at the hottest time of day?"

At last, the procession returned to the estate outside the city. Another heap of baffling formalities followed. By dusk, the ravenous Vitus was escorted into the banquet hall.

Even then, Vitus still couldn't rest. He forced himself to stay alert and talk with guests like Albizzi. In truth, most of Florence's leading figures had already guessed who he was and weren't particularly surprised.

As the banquet drew to a close, two small mechanical figures descended from the dome and placed lily wreaths on the exhausted Vitus and Agnes.

Amid everyone's laughter, Agnes murmured, "It's finally over."

Beside her, Vitus gave a wry smile. "Just you wait. The wedding ceremony in Constantinople will be even more complicated. You'll probably be too exhausted to speak by the end of it."

After the engagement ceremony, they were supposed to wait a while, but Andronikos's illness couldn't afford any delay. With no other choice, Vitus took Agnes, Doctor Gennaro, and the others to Livorno, where they boarded a three-masted ship bound for Constantinople—the Harpia.

The Harpia was a typical carrack, measuring thirty-two meters long and ten meters wide, with a draft of three to five meters and a carrying capacity of four hundred tons.

Vitus carefully inspected the ship and judged that its center of gravity was too high, making it poor at withstanding rough seas. Fortunately, conditions in the Mediterranean were relatively calm, well suited to such a ponderous, massive vessel.

Once the last shipment of woolens had been brought aboard, the sailors worked together to turn the capstan, raising the heavy anchor and slowly steering the ship out of the harbor.

The voyage from Florence to Constantinople took twenty-three days. On the way, they passed through the Aegean Sea, where Vitus "fortunately" witnessed a naval clash between Venice and the Ottoman Empire.

For now, the Ottoman Empire's strategic focus was not on its navy. Murad II was devoting most of his efforts to land warfare in Anatolia and the Balkans. The Ottoman fleet consisted mainly of small and medium-sized galleys, suited only for coastal defense and incapable of challenging Venice's mighty navy.

In the end, a bold idea occurred to Vitus:

"If the two countries go to war again, I could follow the example of Rhodes and the Knights Hospitaller, ruthlessly plundering Ottoman merchant ships and coasts. I'd make money and hurt the enemy—a double victory."