Chapter 2: Buying a Ship
Chapter 2: Buying a Ship
The first rays of sunlight awoke the entire city and the bells of several churches signalled its awakening. The streets gradually filled with early risers and farmers from nearby villages. The chimneys of blacksmiths' shops emitted wisps of black smoke and the clanging of hammers echoed far and wide. Merchants and customers haggled over prices, arguing heatedly; the occasional loud curse could be heard.
Exhausted from a night of work, the fishermen had no time to rest. They hurriedly dragged the fresh fish they had just caught ashore to sell at the market for the best possible price — Venetian and Pisan merchants were often willing to pay more for the freshest catch.
The citizens of Constantinople had mixed feelings about the Latin merchants. On the one hand, the Latins were responsible for their increasingly dire living conditions. On the other hand, however, everyone knew that the city's safety now depended to a certain extent on support from the Western Latin world. The night before, the citizens had raised their cups with the Latins to celebrate the Crusaders' victory.
Outside the church square, pairs of citizens could be seen engaged in heated theological debates, a practice known as 'theological debate'. This was characteristic of the people of Old Constantinople: regardless of age or gender, everyone was deeply interested in religion and always eager to debate with strangers. Objectively speaking, this fostered logical reasoning and helped stabilise and unify the religion. During the empire's heyday, this was a beautiful sight, but now that it was in turmoil, such behaviour could only invite ridicule from the Latins.
'Stupid Greeks, they care more about verbal victory than gold,' said a Latin merchant.
Many citizens, for example, were deeply dissatisfied with the emperor's decision to reach a 'church unity' agreement with the Roman Catholic Church at the Council of Florence in 1439. The religious atmosphere in the city was extremely tense, like a powder keg ready to explode at the slightest spark.
This had nothing to do with Isaac, who had just finished breakfast. He was currently undergoing military training under the guidance of Captain Mikhail, the head of the imperial guard, as part of the mandatory military education programme for imperial heirs.
His small guard unit consisted of only twenty men, with Captain Mikhail serving as both commander and military instructor. The imperial treasury was in dire straits, and the fact that they could maintain a guard unit of twenty cavalrymen was solely thanks to the favour of Isaac's uncle, John.
Captain Mikhail is a kind-hearted, middle-aged man of minor nobility and is reportedly a distant cousin of the Balearo family. An experienced cavalry officer, he participated in the 1422 Siege of Constantinople and served under Isaac's father in the campaign against the remnants of the Latin forces in the Achaea region, earning his trust.
"Isaac, why are you being so diligent today?" Mikhail was clearly pleased with his student's progress. 'Usually, you'd rather spend time with that old man teaching you Latin and French than train with us for even a single second.'
Isaac had just finished his archery training and was rubbing his sore shoulders. He picked up the lance beside him.
'Uncle Mikhail, I'm starting to think that studying grammar won't save the empire. The future of the empire lies in the guns of soldiers.'
He wiped the sweat that had stung his eyes, climbed onto the saddle of his warhorse, gritted his teeth and swung the lance in his hand.
"Nonsense! If you don't learn some martial arts, you won't even be able to run away when the time comes!"
Mikhail stared at the small but proud knight in the sunlight and paused for a moment.
Isaac clearly hadn't put much effort into his training, and he was in extremely poor physical condition. His arms were already aching from holding the three-metre-long lance, which was swaying in the teenager's hands.
'Uncle Mikhail...'
'Child, that's not how you use a lance...' Mikhail held his forehead with his hand.
'Why didn't you tell me earlier!'
Isaac had spent the entire morning enduring the pain of training alongside the guards without slacking off for a moment.
At lunchtime, he declined invitations from several noble friends, prayed with the soldiers and shared the food God had given them, chatting about the things that only soldiers talk about.
At first, the soldiers were a little reserved. They might never have the opportunity to dine with a purple-robed nobleman again, and their previous relationship with Isaac had been limited to saluting and greeting him.
However, after discovering that the prince was easy to get along with, everyone slowly opened up. Isaac listened patiently as the soldiers shared their joys and vented their frustrations, kindly offering his own insights on the issues.
The soldiers and captains of the guard thought that the prince was different today.
While he knew it was foolish to expect to win the hearts of the soldiers with such small gestures, he believed that through this method he could gradually gain an understanding of the lives of the lower-ranking soldiers: what they lacked, what they wanted and what their ideals were.
Everyone has their own interests. If I can represent the interests of one person, they will support me completely.
With his understanding of historical trends, Isaac could only determine the general direction. Historians would not bother to record these minor details, but their importance was self-evident.
Go deep into the grassroots and understand the hearts of the people — this is the art of being an emperor.
In the afternoon, the guards were assigned to patrol the city — there was no other choice; finances were tight and every penny had to be stretched.
Isaac took this opportunity to take stock of his possessions.
As a prince, he naturally had a pension, but most of it went towards the guards' wages, leaving him with little.
His father would occasionally give him pocket money when he was in a good mood, which he saved in a small box.
He also had some miscellaneous jewellery and art pieces of average value.
The most valuable items were the dowry left to Isaac by his late mother: 2,000 ducats in cash and a collection of antique books.
As would be expected of a merchant noble, they were quite wealthy.
In total, they had approximately 5,000 ducats.
For ordinary people, this was a considerable sum. In those days, the ducat had considerable purchasing power, with a soldier earning around 100 groschen, or five ducats, per year.
This did not mean, however, that Isaac could easily raise an army of 1,000 men, as food, supplies, equipment and training would all cost money.
Isaac gathered his belongings, took his servants with him and headed for the Venetian quarter.
There, he sold all the trinkets that his uncle and father had given him, as well as the books that his mother had cherished, to a greedy Venetian merchant.
Books were rare commodities in those days, and their price was even higher than Isaac had anticipated.
After some intense haggling, Isaac resisted the urge to beat up the Venetian bookseller and walked away with 2,640 ducats.
The Venetian merchant behind him couldn't stop smiling.
Dozens of beautifully bound books transported back to northern Italy would be enough to make a fortune.
Isaac counted the money in his pouch: a total of 5,633 ducats.
One ducat was worth 3.5 grams of gold, and the seats of the carriage were filled with more than ten kilograms of gold.
Next, Isaac found the municipal official of the immigrant district: His Excellency Miloto, the plenipotentiary representative of the Venetian Republic in Junburg.
After reporting his arrival, Isaac soon appeared in the municipal official's reception room.
Upon hearing that a prince from Balearo had arrived, Miloto was somewhat perplexed.
'How can I help you, Your Highness?' His tone was polite but stiff, filled with an air of arrogance and condescension.
The magistrate's room was elegant and refined, with porcelain on the table clearly originating from the distant East and murals on the side walls that were undoubtedly the work of a master. Opposite the door was a map of the Aegean Sea, with Venice's colonies marked in gold: Crete, Negroponte, Corfu and the important ports of Achaea and Corinth.
The map stretched endlessly, like an ugly scar carved into the face of the empire.
Miloto himself was a burly, middle-aged man who looked well preserved. His luxurious clothing and expensive jewellery indicated his wealthy family background.
The magistrate held a gold-inlaid staff in his hand with a dazzling ruby embedded at the top and engraved with the emblem of St Mark.
Had this gold come from the statue of Justinian?
Was this gem once a treasure of the Byzantine emperor?
Isaac hurried forward, adopting a humble demeanour.
'Your Excellency, may God bless you. I apologise for the intrusion."
'As your most loyal friend and junior, I have brought you a gift.'
He untied the sword at his waist and presented it.
'This sword was my mother's treasure. It originally belonged to a Crusader who fought in Jerusalem and drank the blood of infidels."
My mother's ancestors bought it and passed it down to me."
He drew the sword and its blade rang out, the intense cold of its light seeming to lower the temperature of the entire room.
The blade was covered in countless scars, and in the afternoon sunlight it glowed dark red.
Miloto took the sword and examined it closely.
'This... How can I accept such a precious treasure?"
Despite his words, his furry hands kept rubbing against the blade.
'There is a Turkish proverb that says, "The bravest warrior wields the sharpest sword." Such a weapon can only be used to its full potential in your hands."
Miloto looked deeply into Isaac's eyes, as if trying to detect a lie.
Isaac calmly returned his scrutinising gaze.
Take it! Take it!
Miloto smiled and put down the sword.
"Speak. What do you want from me?'
'His Majesty sent me to transport grain, but we have no warships to protect the merchant ships. I would like to purchase a large paddle-sail ship from you, along with slaves and sailors."
Miloto smiled again.
'Is this the emperor's idea or yours?'
'His Majesty is busy with state affairs...'
Isaac steeled himself.
'You know that the Republic's regulations prohibit the private sale of warships to other countries, don't you?'
Isaac nodded.
'In other words, you want to bypass Venice and Constantinople and order a fully equipped warship with sailors and slaves from me in your personal capacity?'
Isaac nodded again.
The atmosphere suddenly became tense and Miloto stroked the blade of his sword. He remained silent for a long time.
"I can do it," Miloto said slowly.
Isaac breathed a sigh of relief.
'Don't get too excited. I can sell you a warship like that, but it won't be an official product of Venice. It will come from my family's private shipyard on the island of Crete.'
'That's fine. I trust the municipal officials."
Isaac said hurriedly.
'5,000 ducat coins.'
'You...'
Isaac declined Miloto's invitation to dinner and walked onto the streets of Constantinople.
Cold sweat dampened his collar, but he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
In fact, buying a warship from a private Venetian shipyard was his main reason for coming here. Selling private ships was one of the ways in which many commercial aristocrats made money.
If you paid enough, they would even sell their latest warships to the Ottomans.
However, such things could not be said directly, so the sword was presented as a 'gift to make friends'.
As for the magical sword, it was indeed from his mother's collection, but the story behind it was completely made up. Isaac had concocted it based on his understanding of the magistrate, specifically to amuse him.
Moreover, 5,000 ducats was the approximate price of a private ship, so Miloto would still make a substantial profit.
In any case, the first step was a success.
Isaac sat in the carriage, the sea breeze blowing in his face. In the distance, fishermen were taking advantage of the tide to go out to sea. As they set off, the sun slowly set.
They would return tomorrow morning with a full catch.
At the time, the monetary system was very complex, but here we use the Venetian ducat and groschen currency system, which had the widest circulation and the highest value.