The first rays of morning sunlight awoke the entire city, and the bells of several churches signaled the city's awakening. The streets gradually filled with early-rising citizens and farmers from nearby villages. The chimneys of blacksmith shops emitted the first wisps of black smoke, and the clanging sounds of hammering echoed far and wide. Merchants and customers haggled over prices, arguing heatedly, and occasional loud curses could be heard.
Fishermen, exhausted from a night of work, had no time to rest. They hurriedly dragged the fresh fish they had just caught ashore to the market to sell them for the best possible price—Venetian and Pisan merchants were often willing to pay more for the freshest catch.
The citizens of Constantinople felt a mix of love and hate toward the Latin merchants. On one hand, the Latins were the ones responsible for their increasingly dire living conditions. On the other hand, everyone knew that the city's safety, to a certain extent, now depended entirely on the support of the Western Latin world for Constantinople. The night before, the citizens had even raised their cups with the Latins to celebrate the victory of the Crusaders.
Outside the church square, pairs of citizens could be seen engaged in heated arguments, debating theological issues completely unrelated to their daily lives, a practice known as "theological debate." This was a characteristic of the people of Old Constantinople; regardless of age or gender, everyone was deeply interested in religion and always eager for a lively debate with strangers. Objectively speaking, this was conducive to the development of logical reasoning and helped to stabilize and unite the religion. During the heyday of the empire, this phenomenon was a beautiful sight, but now that the empire was in turmoil, such behavior could only invite ridicule from the Latins.
"Stupid Greeks, they care more about verbal victory than gold," said a Latin merchant.
For example, many citizens are 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 is 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 for imperial heirs.
Isaac's small guard unit consisted of only 20 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 20 cavalrymen was solely due to the favor of Isaac's uncle, John.
Captain Mikhail is a kind-hearted middle-aged man of minor nobility, reportedly a distant cousin of the Balearo family. He is an experienced cavalry officer who 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, rubbing his sore shoulders, and 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."
Isaac 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 second.
Isaac clearly hadn't put much effort into his martial arts training, and his physical condition was extremely poor. At this moment, his arms were already aching from holding the lance, and the three-meter-long lance 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 spent the entire morning enduring the pain of training, undergoing the same training as the guards, without slacking off even for a moment.
At lunchtime, Isaac declined the invitations of several noble friends and prayed with the soldiers, sharing the food God had given them and chatting about things only soldiers would talk about.
At first, the soldiers were a little reserved. They might never have the opportunity to dine with a purple-robed nobleman in their entire lives, and their previous relationship with Isaac was limited to saluting and greeting him.
After discovering that the prince was not difficult to get along with, everyone slowly opened up. Isaac patiently listened to the soldiers share their joys and vent their frustrations, and he kindly offered his own insights on the issues.
The prince was different today, the soldiers and captains of the guard thought.
Isaac knew that it was foolish to expect to win the hearts of the soldiers with such small gestures, but through this method, he could gradually understand 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, he will support me completely.
With his understanding of the historical trends, Isaac could only figure out the general direction. Historians would not bother to record these minor details, but their importance was self-evident.
Go deep into the grassroots, 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, Isaac naturally had a pension—most of it went toward the guards' wages, leaving little remaining.
His father would occasionally give him some pocket money when he was in a good mood, which he saved in a small box.
There were also some miscellaneous jewelry and art pieces of average value.
The most precious items were the dowry left to Isaac by his late mother: 2,000 ducats in cash and many antique books.
As expected of a merchant noble, they were quite wealthy.
In total, there was approximately 5,000 ducats.
For ordinary people, this was already a huge sum. In those days, the purchasing power of the ducat was quite high, with a soldier's annual income being around 100 groschen, or 5 ducats.
Of course, this did not mean that Isaac could now easily raise an army of 1,000 men, as food, supplies, equipment, and training were all money pits.
Isaac gathered his belongings, took his servants with him, and headed for the Venetian quarter.
Here, Isaac sold all the trinkets his uncle and father had given him, as well as the books his mother had cherished, to a greedy Venetian merchant.
As it turned out, 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 give the Venetian bookseller a good beating 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 more than ten kilograms of gold filled the seats of the carriage.
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.
When he heard that a prince from Baleari had come to visit, Miloto was a little puzzled.
"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 that was clearly from the distant East, and murals on the side walls that were obviously the work of a master. On the wall 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.
It 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 jewelry were indicative of his wealthy family background.
The magistrate held a gold-inlaid staff in his hand, with a dazzling ruby embedded at the top, engraved with the emblem of St. Mark.
Did this gold come from the statue of Justinian?
Was this gem once a treasure of the Byzantine emperor?
Isaac hurried forward, adopting a humble demeanor.
"Your Excellency, may God bless you. I apologize for the intrusion."
"As your most loyal friend and junior, I have brought you a gift."
Isaac 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."
Isaac drew the sword, and its blade rang out, its intense cold light seeming to lower the temperature of the entire room.
The blade was covered with countless scars, and in the afternoon sunlight, it glowed a dark red color.
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 at Isaac, as if trying to find evidence of a lie.
Isaac calmly met his scrutinizing 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, right?"
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, remaining 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 character of 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 Isa finally breathed a sigh of relief.
In fact, purchasing a warship from a private Venetian shipyard was his main purpose. Selling private ships was one of the ways 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 used as a "gift to make friends."
As for the magical sword, it was indeed his mother's collection, but the story was completely made up. Isaac had concocted it based on his understanding of the magistrate, specifically to amuse him.
Moreover, 5,000 ducats was exactly the approximate price of a private ship, so Miloto would still make a hefty 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 to fish. As they left, the sun slowly set.
Tomorrow morning, they will return with a full catch.
The monetary system at the time was very complex, but here we use the Venetian ducat and groschen currency system, which had the widest circulation and the highest value.