Construction Funds

Vitus withdrew the Hexamilion Wall and began tallying the figures from the battle:

The Eastern Roman Empire had suffered six hundred and seventy casualties, more than half of them from the troops who had fought alongside Theodore.

As for the results: one thousand three hundred soldiers killed, three thousand five hundred captured, most of them auxiliary troops from the Balkans; four thousand suits of armor, thirty cannons, and large quantities of weapons, arrows, grain, livestock, and tents seized...

Vitus had no use for cannons of such uneven quality, so he sold them all to Italian merchants in Patras, bringing in four thousand Florins. Afterward, he and Theodore dug into their own pockets and scraped together ten thousand Florins to pay out rewards and compensation for the battle.

Even now, Theodore still seemed somewhat drained. Vitus had a doctor escort him back to Mistra.

"All right, go home and get some rest. I'll handle things here."

February, southern Anatolia, the city of Konya.

A messenger galloped wildly through the streets. The roads were narrow and winding, and passersby scattered along the way, afraid of being knocked down by the speeding warhorse.

The palace stood at the highest point in the city. After a thorough inspection by the guards, the messenger passed through its gates and followed a dark-skinned eunuch inside. The palace corridors were deep and silent, with a bronze lamp hanging on the wall every so often, its flame wavering uneasily in the cold wind.

After passing through a maze of winding courtyards, they entered the audience hall. The air was suddenly warm, thick with the rich scent of incense. Windows punctured the hall's domed ceiling, and sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating the entire chamber.

The sultan, Murad II, only twenty-two years old, sat on a raised cushioned divan in the center of the hall. Clad in a plain, deep-purple robe, he held a scroll and read with rapt attention.

Four ministers stood around the divan, draped in luxurious furs or brocade robes that marked their rank. On either side of the hall stood rows of people, including officers, scholars, and attendants. All eyes were now fixed on the messenger, weighing on him so heavily that he could hardly breathe.

The messenger knelt ten paces from the divan and handed the letter to a dark-skinned eunuch. After checking that the wax seal was intact, the eunuch took quick, mincing steps toward the sultan and bowed as he presented it.

After reading the battle report, the sultan turned to a man in the row on his right. "Turahan, your appointed governor Sudak has lost a battle and sacrificed five thousand auxiliary troops. Did he report to you before the fighting began?"

"Me?" Turahan was aghast. After thinking for a few seconds, he recalled:

"I remember now. At first, Sudak claimed that the Greeks of the Peloponnese were building walls and even intended to annex the Duchy of Athens. I told him to act according to the situation. I never ordered him to muster a large army and attack. That was his own decision!"

The sultan wearily set down his book. "Anatolia, the Balkans, the Aegean Sea—there's fighting everywhere. And that fool still thought things weren't chaotic enough, so he attacked the Greeks and lost?"

The sultan dictated an edict. At first, he intended to execute Sudak, but given the man's powerful connections, he could only strip him of his post and send him to the Balkan frontier to serve as a cavalry captain.

The eunuch accepted the edict with both hands and hurried out of the hall. The sultan turned to Turahan again. "I had intended for you to serve in the army, but it seems the Greek territories still can't do without you. Return at once and stabilize the situation. Remember, the top priority now is to put down internal unrest and secure the borders. The Byzantine Empire has become a corpse slowly rotting away. There's no need to deal with it just yet."

Corinth.

After the war ended, Vitus assigned the three thousand five hundred prisoners to the construction crews and put the trenches and outer rampart on hold, devoting all his efforts to building the walls.

Even so, he felt the work wasn't progressing quickly enough. He called up another batch of farmers and had the army join the construction effort.

On May 1, construction of the outer wall was declared complete.

A week later, Ottoman scout cavalry appeared again, followed close behind by a large force of auxiliary troops. Vitus watched from a tower on the inner wall. The enemy had brought only twenty cannons, a third of them heavy siege guns; the rest were small-caliber pieces fit only to make up the numbers.

"That's it? Even if their barrels were worn out, they still couldn't breach my walls." Vitus ordered the Three-Pounders hauled up onto the outer wall, preparing to fight the enemy in an artillery duel.

On the open ground outside the city, Turahan studied the fortifications before him and understood why Sudak had attacked without permission.

"There was nothing wrong with the decision to go to war. It's just a shame that fool lost, giving the Greeks plenty of time to build."

The Corinthian outer wall was thicker than any wall Turahan had ever seen. Bombardment would have little effect; the only option was to storm it at the cost of his soldiers' lives. Even if they took the outer wall, they would still face long-range fire from the inner wall, leaving them little chance of survival.

Turahan abandoned the plan to attack and asked only to ransom the noble prisoners.

Inside the city, Vitus readily accepted. He handed the envoy a list bearing not only the prisoners' names but also their official positions and ransoms.

The envoy made a few changes with his pen. "Tomorrow morning, we'll pay twenty-one thousand Ducats in gold. I hope they're all safe and sound."

Vitus pressed him. "What about the remaining common prisoners? We can negotiate the price. Five gold coins apiece? If that's too much, four will do!"

The envoy shook his head. "Keep them. The empire has no shortage of auxiliary troops. Their lives are cheaper than weeds. Why would a Bey pay to ransom them?"

May 10, early morning.

Marcus escorted sixty-one Ottoman nobles out of the city. He didn't release them immediately; his first priority was to cut the gold bars into pieces and weigh them one by one.

After confirming that the gold weighed the equivalent of twenty thousand Ducats, Marcus looked up at the immense army formation ahead. "We defeated more than ten thousand not long ago, and now another, even larger army has arrived. The Ottomans have too great an advantage in numbers."

He took a deep breath, ordered the prisoners released, then returned behind the walls with the gold.

After the prisoner exchange, Turahan rode a white horse and led his commanders from west to east along the wall. They found no weak points. "If we want to attack the Peloponnese, we'll need to prepare a hundred or more heavy siege guns and treat it as we would Constantinople."

Once the enemy had fully withdrawn, Vitus returned to his office to handle the accounts. The ransom of twenty thousand Ducats had finally filled the funding gap for the next stage.

Now that the walls were complete, the most dangerous period had passed. He no longer needed to prioritize speed, so he dismissed all the laborers, keeping only a little over three thousand free workers.

That evening, he called a meeting with the technical staff.

"The next stage is to dig a moat outside the wall and use the excavated earth to build an outer rampart. We also need to put up warehouses, barracks, wells, and other supporting facilities. We have plenty of time now, so we can slow the pace a little..."

Once the outer rampart was complete, the walls would become even more resistant to bombardment. Even against the concentrated fire of a large number of cannons, Vitus was confident they could hold out.