Prisoners of War

The matchlocks' specifications met expectations, so Vitus had Lambert devote all his time to making components. He then ordered the recruitment of six hundred new soldiers, organizing them into five matchlock companies.

According to Vitus's plan, the recruits would spend the first two months learning military discipline, practicing formations, and using wooden matchlock models to drill loading. In June, once enough matchlocks had been produced, they would move on to live-fire practice.

Agnes reminded him, "Including these recruits, your regular forces now number sixteen hundred. Although you've given them land, which has reduced their wages, you're still spending twenty-four thousand florins a year on the army. That exceeds Achaea's fiscal limits. Have you considered this?"

Vitus was relatively optimistic about the finances.

Last year's war had destroyed Achaea's aristocracy, and the ducal household had acquired a great deal of land. Forty percent had been granted to the Tuna Legion, while the remaining sixty percent belonged to Vitus personally, bringing in five thousand florins in rent each year. With that income included, Achaea's finances would balance perfectly.

In the coming years, once his and Agnes's workshops had begun turning a profit, he would expand the army again.

Vitus could also take on mercenary contracts in Italy. As Achaea's Despot, his fee and terms would certainly be better than those of "Anthony Doukas" two years ago.

By May, the winter wheat in the countryside had ripened. Vitus gave his soldiers a long leave, allowing them to take turns going home to harvest the wheat.

Free from military duties, Vitus spent his days riding and hunting nearby, or fishing at Kyllini Harbor on the west coast. He enjoyed a leisurely week, until a large three-masted ship appeared on the horizon.

Once the merchant ship had moored, a familiar figure leaped off the gangplank. It was Elion Daltino, who greeted Vitus with a smile. "Your Highness, we meet again."

Elion gazed with interest at the soldiers near the pier. "Why are their surcoats the most inconspicuous gray, with blue tuna painted on them?"

Vitus said, "During last year's war, we captured a great many suits of armor from the Principality of Achaea. To distinguish the two sides, I had my soldiers wear gray cloth over their armor. Some of them took it upon themselves to paint tuna on the cloth, and for some reason the fashion caught on. I thought it looked pretty good, so I made it the Tuna Legion's official uniform."

Near midday, Vitus personally cooked fish soup for his guest and casually asked, "The ship's riding low in the water. What's in the hold?"

"Textiles and iron tools being shipped from Venice to Crete, as well as a hundred Hussite prisoners of war. They're destined to spend the rest of their lives on the island's sugar plantations."

The moment he heard "Hussites," the spatula in Vitus's right hand trembled.

Last October, Jan Žižka had led his troops in besieging a fortress, and died of an illness during the siege. When Vitus had first heard the news, he'd found it hard to believe. Jan Žižka shouldn't have met such an end.

"I'm very interested in Hussite tactics. I need an experienced officer."

"That might not be appropriate," Elion said, feigning hesitation. Vitus pushed a purse full of florins toward him. "It's no big deal. Just say he died of an illness during the journey."

Elion weighed the purse in his hand, then tucked it into his robe with practiced ease. He crossed out the first name on the prisoner roster. "This man's called Krezer. He commanded a force of more than a thousand men and is the most valuable prisoner in this lot."

Before long, Elion went into the hold and returned with a dispirited middle-aged man.

Vitus asked, "Do you speak Latin?"

After spending so long in the hold's damp darkness, the man couldn't adjust to the bright sunlight. He kept his head bowed and didn't move for a long time.

With no other choice, Vitus took him back to Andravida. It took a long time to find an interpreter who spoke Bohemian, and he asked the man to translate:

"Did you fight alongside Jan Žižka for a long time?"

Krezer nodded slightly.

Vitus asked again, "You have only one task: describe your military experience over the past few years in detail. Afterward, I'll give you a plot of farmland or enough money for the journey. Do you have any other requests?"

Krezer sighed and began recounting the battles he'd fought in. But things weren't as simple as he'd expected. The young man before him wasn't listening to a story; he wanted Krezer to explain it all from a commander's perspective.

"Draw the battlefield as it was then, and mark the positions of both sides' forces." Vitus brought out his own map of the Battle of Bordeaux and had Krezer draw one in the same format.

"Also, you said Žižka sent troops on a flanking maneuver in advance. How did he know that was the enemy's weak point? How did Sigismund respond? If circumstances had changed, what was your plan?"

Krezer looked bewildered and said he couldn't remember clearly.

"Don't rush. You have plenty of time to recall everything. Besides the course of the battles, I also want to know how your troops were organized, how they trained day to day, and what tactics you used in different environments." He called in a clerk and instructed him to write down this valuable memoir, without missing a single detail.

By late May, the harvest across the territory was finished. Vitus built a simple brick kiln and had craftsmen fire bricks for the city wall.

At the same time, he brought in technicians from Constantinople and recruited several hundred farmers, having them mix clay, sandy soil, and volcanic ash, with a small amount of straw added.

With the sources of rammed earth and bricks taken care of, Vitus began laying the foundations: they dug a deep trench, laid a layer of gravel for drainage, piled stones on top, and then poured lime mortar over them.

Once the foundations were complete, the workers used planks to build a hollow wooden mold. They filled it with the prepared wet earth and repeatedly pounded the layers with stone rammers until the earth was thoroughly compacted.

After completing the lowest layer of rammed earth, the workers filled and tamped the layer above it, repeating the process until the city wall seemed to "grow" steadily taller. They laid bricks along the outside of the rammed-earth wall, mainly to keep rain from washing away and eroding the compacted earth.

After more than a month of work, Vitus brought Theodore and his wife to see the stretch of newly built, temporary wall.

To test its defensive strength, he positioned six heavy siege cannons fifty meters away and fired repeatedly at one small area, until a siege cannon's barrel cracked.

The test proved that the low, thick wall had excellent defensive qualities. After a quiet discussion with Cleopa, Theodore agreed to Vitus's plan to build the wall.

"I've scraped together forty-five thousand florins. I'll make up the rest by the end of the year. Vitus, don't you dare cut corners."