Not everyone is born a natural soldier.
Most soldiers have led ordinary lives, engaged in their trades, until they answer the call of their country and grasp a spear for the first time. It’s unreasonable to expect them to be skilled right away. Like anything, it takes time to become adept. But knowing this doesn’t quell the anxiety. The uncertainty of when war might break out only heightens the tension.
It was evident that the soldiers marching in formation on the drill grounds had improved since the beginning, but considering the opponent, optimism was premature. Mere formation wasn’t enough. High morale and strict discipline, strong enough to withstand anything, were crucial for Morea’s army. Even with the counsel of military experts introduced by Venice, satisfaction remained elusive.
Lost in such thoughts for a while, I suddenly sensed someone approaching from behind.
“The preparations you requested are complete, Your Highness.”
It was Adriano. Though I hadn’t given him much attention, he was a long-time official by my side. His role had shifted to overseeing the supply of provisions, a task akin to his administrative duties, and it seemed he had completed it swiftly. When I turned, Adriano’s expression was twice as stern as usual.
“The engineers have been brought to the court in Mistra and have begun their work, but it is impossible to prepare a large quantity at once.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s not sufficient.”
“But if the capital learns that we are independently preparing Greek fire, it will cause a significant stir.”
“Adriano.”
I cleared my throat before speaking. He seemed uneasy, perhaps worried about the reaction from the capital. But the crucial point wasn’t our now-strained relationship with the capital. From the moment I proposed establishing an archbishopric, we had resolved to chart our own course.
Above all…
“What we are preparing is not Greek fire, but war.”
“War…”
The word, gripping the soul with its weight, made Adriano fall silent. I, too, felt the gravity of it. The harsh and cruel reality where lives must be gambled to achieve one’s desires. A ruthless feast where the winner takes all, leaving nothing for the loser. The chill in my heart foretold the many deaths to come.
When that time comes…
Will I not regret it? Will I not resign myself, thinking I didn’t prepare enough, that I ultimately failed? But I shook my head to dispel the grim thoughts of a uncertain future. Now was not the time to worry about the future, but to prepare for it.
“Do not concern yourself with the capital’s movements any longer. Focus solely on preparing for war.”
“Isn’t this too much worry? The new Sultan hasn’t been on the throne for long. He might not be foolish enough to launch an ambitious campaign with an unstable power base.”
“Do not be optimistic about the situation, Adriano.”
I still remember the moment I heard the news of Edirne’s blockade. At that time, an almost certain intuition whispered to me. What would the new Sultan have done first in the blockaded Edirne?
He wouldn’t necessarily follow in the footsteps of the late Sultan Mehmed. The new Sultan, Murad II, must have eliminated potential threats in advance.
Having received information from the Jewish spies loyal to Sophia, my anxiety only grew. Murad II had gained the obedience of the militant Janissaries and secured the support of the entire court. Any hope that his power base was unstable was just that—a hope. If anything, he might pose an even more united and formidable threat than his predecessor.
Someone might say I’m overly negative if they hear such thoughts. Unfortunately, even though I hadn’t voiced them, my expression must have given it away.
“What are you so worried about, Your Highness? Why do you fear the new Sultan so much?”
“I can’t help but fear.”
The burden of responsibility on my shoulders was immense. From the beginning to now, it had been a unstable balancing act. A single misstep, and everything would be over.
Even a minor mistake, if not immediately resolved, would quickly return with a cruel fate. Every action had become a harsh judgment deciding between survival and destruction.
The battle fought over a scale already tipped was far from fair.
Yet, reality demanded we fight. The scale seemed ready to topple at any moment. The constant thought that a single mistake, one defeat, could lead to swift ruin, sent shivers through me.
Is it not natural to be afraid?
But Adriano thought differently. His youthful vigor still intact, he gazed at me with resolute eyes and spoke in a firm voice filled with unwavering trust.
“Your Highness, before you fear him, please reflect on what you have accomplished.”
“What I have accomplished so far.”
Indeed, I had worked tirelessly, barely holding on. I had originally come here for a romantic connection. However, upon realizing the obligations and responsibilities tied to this new body, there was no time for such pursuits.
After all, who would expect a good outcome from being connected to a prince of an empire on the brink of collapse? Thinking this, I had turned away even when women approached me.
“When everyone else was ready to accept the prophecy of doom, there was one who stood alone, believing it to be a trial from God. To prove his words, he rose himself, and now the people follow him.”
It was merely a rebellious statement against those who resigned themselves, thinking it was God’s will. I started it out of a petty desire to make everyone struggle alongside me, not wanting to struggle alone. Everything I did was solely for survival.
And yet…
“Do not fear the Sultan. If he became Sultan to fulfill the prophet’s will, then you rose to represent the will of those who consider themselves Romans. If the Sultan wields his sword to follow the prophet’s teachings, then you, Your Highness, have drawn your sword to ensure the survival of the last empire permitted under heaven.”
Adriano spoke with clear, unwavering eyes that harboured no doubt.
“Be confident, Your Highness. In opposing the Sultan, you are a true monarch without any shortcomings.”
…Is that so?
I didn’t voice my thoughts. Adriano, looking at me, merely offered a faint smile. The distractions lifted, leaving me feeling clearer. Wanting to savour this clarity, I glanced away, noticing the soldiers with a much sharper presence than before.
I had forgotten the obvious.
The disparity in overwhelming power doesn’t remain constant. It can be gradually reduced depending on how efficiently time is used and the will to overcome it. The difference might not be immediately noticeable.
However, if we continue to take precarious steps—
The honed blade will eventually hover over the enemy’s neck.
“There’s much that has been delayed. The reports from Demicleos were also concerning.”
The city-states of central Greece, recently reclaimed, showed signs of unrest after witnessing the Ottoman upheaval. Since the Academy led by Plato hadn’t fully established itself yet, most of the prominent figures had not sent hostages. They likely viewed the new administrative body, the Assembly, and imperial rule, which they had long ignored, with displeasure.
A mediator was needed to prevent the situation from worsening. Although it might be a burden, it seems necessary to push Plato, who was busy establishing the Academy, a bit more. While political pressure might cause resentment, persuasion by a cultured figure of high repute could proceed more smoothly.
The unrest in central Greece is worrisome, but Epirus is also not in an ideal situation. Prince Thomas, a favorable ally, holds the position, but his authority is weak due to his youth. Consequently, Morea must support Thomas’s authority. And nothing bolsters a ruler’s authority like a crowning.
In Morea, circumstances naturally unfolded as they did, but a crowning is essential in Epirus, where the ruler’s authority remains fragile. If the Morea archbishopric had been approved, the archbishop of Morea would have conducted the crowning, but the patriarch remains silent. It would be better to set aside differences here and ask the patriarch to conduct the crowning in Epirus.
“Then continue stockpiling supplies, Adriano.”
“As you command, Your Highness.”
Even amid the busyness, I couldn’t afford to relinquish the few advantages the empire possessed. Greek fire, which burns even on water, was one of them. To overcome our numerical inferiority, there would come a time when even fire attacks would be necessary.
Greek fire was a preparation for that. Cannons would be beneficial as well, but the cannons operated by the empire were crude. Moreover, there were few, with most allocated to the defense of the capital.
I stifled a laugh before the harsh reality.
I will gradually narrow the gap.
I will not lose the path to life, survival, and the future. Even if I fall dozens, hundreds of times along the way, it will be the same. As I have long told myself:
History has not yet chosen anyone.
TL : This is the Greek fire also known as the The Byzantine Savior. Its like a flamethrower.
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