"Oh! The city-state's need for spices has risen sharply? By how much?... What! Yahweh, three times what it was before?!... Tsk, tsk, the profits from the peninsula crusade are actually this rich? The merchants of the Apennine states really have all made a fortune!... Mm, our Republic of Venice is the strongest of the commercial city-states, so we ought to be able to carve off the largest slice of the cake. We've made at least several hundred thousand gold Ducats, haven't we?..."
"Haaha! Isaac, you're one of the chief stewards of the city-state guilds, one of the council's own people, so I won't hide it from you... The profits from this crusade are probably this number!..."
In the small building by the harbor, the old knight Lorenzo drank red wine as he discussed the profits from the peninsula crusade with the Jewish merchant Eleazar. Smiling broadly, he proudly held up one finger, making Eleazar suck in a cold breath and cry out in disbelief.
"A hundred thousand gold Ducats? It can't be that little... Then it's one million gold Ducats?! Yahweh! How is that possible? Is that the profit of our Venice alone, or does it include all the states and the Church together?... Ah! It's our profit alone? How, how could there be so much?! Impossible, how could there be such an enormous profit!!"
"Aha! Isaac, nothing's impossible! The peninsula crusade was fought for eleven years. The Castilians maintained a standing army of sixty thousand, and even mobilized a hundred-thousand-strong army for a time... The shoes on those men's feet, the armor draped over their bodies, the weapons at their waists, the arrows they shot from their hands, the bread they ate, the tents they slept in, the Gunpowder they used when firing, even the saws and axes used