Chapter 12: Recruitment

The Gulf of Lion in the northern Mediterranean was calm and sunny.

This small bay in southern France is rich in fishery resources and has abundant water and heat along the coast, making it one of the production areas of fine wines.

The Rhône River flows into the sea here, and the fertile land along the coast feeds many French people.

Along the bay, from east to west, major cities such as Nice, Toulon, Marseille, Avignon, and Montpellier are lined up in a row.

This fertile land is divided between France and the Provence region, with farmers living in villages or estates. Their way of life remains relatively primitive, rising with the sun and resting with its setting, cultivating wheat and other staple crops while also tending to cash crops.

The winds of the Renaissance had not yet reached this area, and the French peasants cultivated the richest land in Europe, enjoying the blessings of Mother Nature for many years.

However, life was not easy for French peasants at that time.

The long and protracted Hundred Years' War between England and France had spread its poison far and wide, and the entire northern part of the kingdom was ravaged by war.

Wealthy merchants in tax-rich regions such as Flanders refused to pay for France's wars and voluntarily submitted to Burgundian rule.

The current king, Charles VII, abolished the Estates General and declared himself an absolute ruler.

After signing a five-year truce with England, Charles VII eagerly began his reforms.

The reforms mainly improved the treatment of the middle class, suppressed the power of the land-owning nobility in the south, and centralized fiscal power.

The conservative nobility, of course, refused to give up and staged a rebellion in 1440, but it was quickly suppressed.

They didn't want to pay taxes to the king, but they couldn't defeat him. What could they do?

They would just make the people suffer.

What? You've paid your taxes?

Sorry, that was for the king. I haven't paid for my share yet.

Unable to pay their taxes, the common people had no choice but to use their land as collateral.

Local tyrants took advantage of the situation to raise grain prices, lower land prices, and seize large amounts of land, leading to a growing number of landless and land-poor farmers. Some lower-ranking knights also lost their fiefdoms and took to the roads as vagabonds.

Migrants rose up, and bandits swarmed.

Of course, the nobles and clergy living in large cities did not feel any of this.

At this time, Isaac's fleet stopped at a port under Montpellier for supplies and to experience the customs of southern France.

At this time, there was still a great difference between northern and southern France. The north had already begun to see the emergence of capitalism, and a French national consciousness had begun to form.

The south was still dominated by feudal estates, and the common people only knew their feudal lords, not the King of France.

Isaac left Henry, the new captain of the Saint Nicholas, to stay with the fleet, while he himself entered the city with Fidel and William.

The sailors of the fleet were overjoyed after receiving the prince's reward and took turns leaving the ship to rest.

When they reached the city gate, Isaac was truly shocked.

The plains near Montpellier were crowded with shacks built by refugees.

Several monks and nuns from nearby monasteries carried baskets and distributed food and medicine.

There was not enough food for everyone, and the strong refugees violently snatched food from the nuns' hands, stuffed it into their mouths, and then greedily looked at the bread in other people's hands.

The weak children and women were pushed to the back, and by the time they got there, only a few crumbs of black bread were left.

A baby couldn't suckle his mother's milk and cried loudly. His mother was skin and bones, her eyes empty.

A nun nearby covered her face and wept.

There were too many cases like this, and they couldn't help everyone.

Since the kind Archbishop of Montpellier announced relief for the refugees, refugees had been flocking to the south of France.

This situation continued for several months, with limited relief funds and the number of refugees continuing to increase.

Merchants from Genoa and Venice took advantage of the situation and moved some of the refugees away under the guise of "recruiting workers."

They would most likely spend the rest of their lives rowing in filthy ship holds or working themselves to death in Austrian mines.

This was the life of ordinary people during the wars of medieval Europe.

Later, historians would emphasize the great achievements of Charles VII in recapturing Paris and strengthening central authority.

But they would naturally throw the suffering of the people into the wastebasket.

Never mind, this has nothing to do with Isaac.

Isaac shook his head and led the crowd toward the city gate.

The guards loudly complained about the "selfish" actions of the Archbishop of Montpellier.

"Have you heard? The city's food reserves are running out, and now we're eating expensive grain brought in by Genoese merchants."

"Of course I know. Yesterday, I almost couldn't resist throwing cow dung into the mouths of those greedy Genoese merchants!"

"Damn refugees, the war is over, why don't you go back?"

...

Isaac took out the papal edict, and the guards saluted and let them pass.

"Sir, you'd better leave here as soon as possible. It's very chaotic around here..."

The guards kindly warned him.

Isaac nodded and led everyone into the city.

The city of Montpellier belonged to His Eminence the Archbishop and was administered by the city council.

It was a city with a strong religious atmosphere, surrounded by monasteries and bustling with monks.

Since Charles VII issued the Edict of Bourges in 1438, the French church had effectively broken away from the control of the Roman Catholic Church.

The country was divided into several archdioceses, which were only subject to the king and no longer had to pay taxes to Rome. They also enjoyed the privilege of electing their own leaders.

Montpellier was one of them.

The city was known for its piety and solemnity, with white buildings everywhere and crosses everywhere. Well-nourished citizens walked confidently on the streets, looking down on outsiders with disdain.

The brightness and cleanliness of the city contrasted sharply with the poverty and darkness outside the city.

Isaac walked into a bookstore and was pleased to find books with purple double-headed eagle emblems.

The printing business was steadily growing.

"Sir, these are the latest books, printed by new machines in Rome. The font is beautiful and elegant. It is said that even the Pope and the bishops love them..."

The merchant talked on and on.

Isaac listened happily, nodding from time to time.

Then he put down the books and left the bookstore.

The merchant stood behind him, feeling depressed.

Then Isaac ordered everyone to split up and look for useful information.

At noon, Isaac visited the archbishop of Montpellier.

The kind bishop was in a difficult position.

The city council demanded that the refugees be expelled, and the distribution of food be stopped.

The archbishop couldn't bear to break his promise.

He could only notify the southern nobles to come and take back their people. However, few responded.

Now that they were the king's people, let the king take them back.

The archbishop had no choice but to report to the king, but there was no response.

The centralizing forces and feudal forces were in conflict with each other, and in the end, it was the common people who suffered.

After chatting for a while, the Archbishop of Montpellier agreed to purchase and use the Bible printed by Isaac.

It was clear that the archbishop was in a difficult situation.

He was a kind old man, dressed in simple vestments and living in very modest quarters.

"My child, I'm afraid I don't have time to entertain you now. As you can see, the matter of the refugees is keeping me very busy."

The bishop stroked his forehead.

"Please convey my regards to Emperor John VIII. When I was young, I traveled far and wide and once visited Constantinople, which is a very beautiful city. May it never fall."

Isaac thanked him.

"Your Excellency, in the name of God, I wish to help some poor civilians. Can you offer me your assistance?"

The archbishop looked at him suspiciously.

"I know that some Latin merchants and local priests are colluding and doing things that even the devil would curse. I can't control them,"

"You have the Pope's approval and are a prince of Byzantium. Surely you would not do the same as the devil."

"If you are willing to help the poor refugees, then go ahead. It is the work of saints."

Isaac agreed and repeatedly promised to find a good home for the refugees.

Leaving the church, Isaac felt a little emotional.

Bishop Pierre was a true saint, at least willing to stand up for the common people and face the storm.

Back at the inn where they were staying, William brought Isaac some news.

He had discovered that many lower-ranking knights who had lost their fiefdoms were gathering, preparing to go elsewhere to try their luck.

This phenomenon is quite common now.

Some would become knights in other countries, some would form mercenary groups, and some would directly join the Ottomans, who were actively recruiting talent.

There were many Christian advisors in the court of Mehmed II.

Isaac planned to recruit some of the knights who had lost their lands.

As the plan progressed, the army had to be put on the agenda.

The first task in building a powerful army was to find enough officers.

Without officers, there would be no training system and no command on the battlefield.

A group of uncommand peasants would be useless, losing their armor and weapons in a matter of minutes on the battlefield.

This was also why the late Byzantine Empire relied so heavily on mercenaries.

The great nobles had all defected to the Ottomans, leaving behind a bunch of useless good-for-nothings.

The next day, Isaac brought William to meet the lost knights.

There were fourteen of them, led by a middle-aged man with blond hair.

"I hear you want to hire us?"

The man was very impolite, emphasizing the word "hire."

"I want you to follow me."

The blond knight sneered.

"The last person I followed was Joan of Arc."

Isaac was taken aback.

In the end, Isaac signed a contract with the blond knight named Conte, and the fourteen joined Isaac's guard. Isaac offered them a salary.

As for whether they were mercenaries or loyal followers, that would be decided later.

Afterward, Isaac took Conte to the refugee camp to select strong refugees to join the guard, with a quota of 100 people. Their families could also come along.

Isaac also took 20 orphans around ten years old, asking Conte and the others to teach and train them as backup forces.

That night, Isaac and Conte stood on the deck as the fleet raised anchor and prepared to depart.

Conte gazed at the distant land.

"We're about to leave our homeland. How do you feel?"

Isaac asked Conte.

The blond knight remained unmoved.

He slowly opened his mouth.

"I am the son of a blacksmith. I used to live a modest life, until the English destroyed everything I had,"

"I swore revenge, and Joan of Arc reached out to me."

"We supported Charles VII, Joan of Arc crowned him king. We fought for him, storming and capturing one English stronghold after another."

"Victory was near, but the nobles who had been wavering came forward and claimed the estates and lands for themselves,"

"Joan of Arc was ruthlessly abandoned by Charles VII, and we were demoted to lowly knights, with estates in the most barren mountains."

"Then, the king demanded that we pay heavy taxes, but I didn't even have a few subjects."

"I sold my estate and left."

"When I left, I saw many noblemen's sons gloating."

Conte turned his head to look at Isaac.

"It was only then that I realized,"

"Only when foreign enemies invade and the nation is in peril do those nobles treat you as their own."

"I have no homeland."

"They... have no homeland either."

Conte pointed toward the port, where the sturdy vagrants and their families that Isaac had recruited were cheerfully boarding transport ships, bidding farewell to their dark shanties.

Isaac listened in silence for a long time.

After a moment, Isaac raised his head and looked at Conte.

"Perhaps one day, you will find a new homeland on my lands."

Alright, if you've made up your mind, then follow me from now on.

At least I won't treat you badly.

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