Venetians

The bombardment continued for three days. The walls of Andravida were severely damaged, and they were not expected to hold past tomorrow.

Vitus summoned the commanders for a meeting to discuss the siege plan for the following day. Worried that the troops might turn on each other, tempted by the prospect of loot, he ordered the formation of provost squads drawn from each unit.

"Remember, once we enter the city, the provost squads are responsible for sealing off areas and collecting valuables. The remaining troops are only to focus on combat; the spoils will be divided once the fighting has settled."

This demand sounded reasonable enough. The mercenary commanders, led by Piero, agreed. They specifically selected dull-witted men to serve as military police, knowing that even without these individuals, the combat effectiveness of their units would remain unaffected.

Regarding the appointment of a provost marshal, Vitus selected an inflexible captain from the Tuna Mercenary Group. "Urinus, I am officially appointing you as provost marshal. Your duties are as follows..."

After finishing, Vitus handed over a scroll of parchment. He confirmed that Urinus could read before dismissing him.

"A busy day, finally time for dinner."

Vitus leaned back in his chair, gazing at the pitch-black night sky outside the tent. After a brief wait, a guard brought him a large, steaming bowl of mutton stew and a piece of hard bread.

Vitus cut the hard bread into small chunks and soaked them in the stew. The mutton broth was thick and rich, with golden beads of fat floating on the surface, and the bottom of the bowl was filled with onions, garlic, and diced radishes.

"Phew, winter is definitely the season for mutton stew."

He picked up a spoon and took a small sip. The first sensation was salty, savory, and scalding hot, warming him instantly from his mouth to his stomach and driving away the chill in his body.

Recalling the past two years, he noted that the army usually stewed beef and mutton in iron pots rather than roasting them over a campfire.

"While roasted meat tastes excellent, the fat drips away during the process, leading to serious waste. From a logistical standpoint, stew is clearly more cost-effective.

Unfortunately, beef and mutton are too expensive. Farmers use oxen to plow fields and raise sheep for wool; they won't easily sell their livestock to the army. Besides, pork and chicken aren't cheap either. If one were to satisfy the army's daily meat consumption, the only option would be fish..."

As the commander of the army, Vitus had to strictly control costs—neither spending too much nor being so harsh as to incite a large-scale mutiny. Paoli Di Maggio was right; fighting a war was indeed much like running a business.

After finishing the mutton stew, he leaned back in his chair, satisfied, to take a short nap.

Suddenly, a shrill scream echoed through the night sky, followed by the shouts of sentries, the beating of gongs, and the thunderous roar of a three-pounder cannon firing.

Vitus left his seat, letting his guards help him don his breastplate and helmet. Time was tight; he didn't have time to put on the remaining arm guards, gauntlets, or greaves, and quickly climbed the nearest watchtower.

For this campaign, he had referenced ancient military texts to devise a simple field camp—square in shape, with shallow trenches dug by the soldiers on the outermost perimeter, followed by a wooden palisade, and wooden watchtowers placed at regular intervals.

The cold wind whistled. Vitus squinted, observing his surroundings by the faint moonlight. The commotion came from the north side of the camp. Enemy troops outside were launching an attack with torches; some were hacking at the palisade with axes, while others were setting up ladders to climb over.

As time passed, more defenders converged on the area, firing through small holes reserved in the palisade. Beyond crossbow bolts, they used three-pounders and the hand cannons brought by the mercenaries.

Hand cannons had short range and poor accuracy, making them suitable only for close-quarters combat. The mercenaries stuffed gunpowder and lead balls into the barrels, gripped the wooden stocks with their left hands to steady them against the firing ports, and used their right hands to ignite the powder at the rear with a matchcord.

Bang!

With a deafening roar, orange-red flames erupted from the muzzles. The gunners recoiled slightly before retreating to the rear to begin the next round of loading.

Watching the mercenaries repeatedly load and fire, Vitus was suddenly reminded of the Three-Eyed Gun used by the Ming army.

"If you added two more barrels to the front of the wooden stock, they would be exactly the same. However, the Ming cavalry used the Three-Eyed Gun primarily because its handling was decent, making it suitable as a long-handled blunt weapon on horseback, while its actual shooting performance was terrible."

The night-raiding force met with stubborn resistance from the Eastern Roman Empire army and suffered heavy casualties. Centurione Zaccaria realized the situation was lost and ordered his guards to sound the retreat. On the way back to the city, mercenaries and militiamen began to desert one by one, using the cover of darkness to flee.

Upon entering the city, Centurione counted his men; of the eight hundred who had set out, only three hundred remained.

"Retreat!"

Before leaving, Centurione took all his savings, while the soldiers took the opportunity to loot the city. The next morning, Vitus led his troops into the city, only to be deeply disappointed.

"Two thousand five hundred impoverished citizens and a dilapidated wall—is this the capital of the Principality of Achaea?"

After nearly a month of campaigning, he had lost over six hundred men, and with the garrisons stationed along the way, his available field force was less than two thousand.

Forced by necessity, he decided to rest in Andravida and temporarily recruit a batch of militiamen. Since the nobles appointed by Centurione were either dead or had fled, Vitus summoned representatives from nearby villages and entrusted them with conveying the news of conscription to the populace.

During the meeting, a priest asked, "Your Highness, how do you intend to govern the Achaea region in the future?"

Vitus had not yet made a decision, so he brushed them off with a few platitudes. "I swear that the agricultural taxes collected in the future will never exceed those of Centurione. In light of the devastation the war has brought upon the people, the agricultural tax for next summer is canceled!"

(Note: The tax system of the Palaiologos Dynasty was complex. The core of the agricultural tax was the land tax, supplemented by hearth taxes, livestock taxes, and other levies, with an overall tax rate maintained between 30-40%. Agricultural taxes were usually paid twice a year, in May and September, to facilitate payment in agricultural products harvested by the rural population.)

In the name of the Eastern Roman Empire royal family, Vitus recruited eight hundred Greek farmers in a short time, incorporating them into the Tuna Mercenary Group—or rather, the Tuna Legion.

By mid-November, the Eastern Roman Empire army set off again. They encountered no resistance along the way; the knights wisely abandoned their ancestral castles and fled with their families to Patras at the northern tip of the peninsula.

As the war progressed, this Crusader state, which had lasted for over two hundred years, was finished. Centurione could only seek the intervention of external forces. He found a Venetian merchant doing business in Patras and requested his help in mediating.

"Duke, I am merely a common textile merchant. I hold no public office; how can I negotiate on behalf of Venice?"

The merchant, named Elion Daltino, only wanted to make money and had no desire to be drawn into this trivial conflict. It was only after Centurione paid him three hundred Ducat as an appearance fee that he reluctantly agreed.