Transporting an army by sea had always been considered dangerous and difficult. But in recent years, ever since Duke William ferried his knights and all their horses to England, it was no longer so feared.
Although the motion passed by a slim margin, Rolando Lanfranchi also publicly chose to support the Marchioness, so the conscription of rowers and ships went relatively smoothly.
It took three days for Eric and Matilda to conscript nine hundred Knights from Canossa, including two hundred Tuscan Knights, nearly a thousand Crossbowmen, and five hundred Spearmen.
Two hundred Norman Knights were left in Canossa. As for Pisa, Otto was left in command of one hundred Norman Knights, ostensibly to assist in the city’s defense, but in reality to prevent an uprising from the Pisan nobility.
The Pisa Republic fleet primarily had two types of ships: Galley-type oared sailing warships and Dromon warships.
Galleys were typically long and narrow, usually 25 to 35 meters in length and 4 to 6 meters in width. They had high gunwales to protect the crew. Each galley had one to three banks of rowers, with each bank propelling the ship forward with long oars.
They were also equipped with one or more sails, usually square-rigged, to assist the rowers when there was wind. Furthermore, they were armed with Crossbow Cannons and Catapults to attack enemy vessels and even to assist in assaulting coastal cities from the sea.
These were the main warships of the Pisa Republic, renowned for their flexibility and maneuverability. In times of peace, they would be converted into merchant ships to carry cargo.
The Dromon warship originated from the Byzantine Empire. Its hull was wider and larger than a galley’s, which meant it had a greater carrying capacity. Its offensive weapons, like Crossbow Cannons and Catapults, and defensive fortifications were also stronger and more robust than those on a galley. This made it better suited for long sea battles and ocean voyages. Its only drawback was that its maneuverability and speed were slightly inferior to that of a galley.
Pisa conscripted approximately eighty Galleys and thirty Dromons.
The Commander-in-Chief of the navy was Simone Scalas, who had been looking forward to this war for a long time. He firmly believed that the glory gained from it would grant him greater prestige and status in Pisa.
Simone had originally planned to have a dedicated Kirk Ship built to make the Marchioness and the Marquis’s journey more comfortable, as galleys were warships with no designated areas for rest.
However, Matilda flatly refused.
She saw this as a sign of weakness and retreat, and any such sign would undermine her authority.
’I must always present myself as a brave and fearless warrior, an invincible commander, a powerful and cold-blooded ruler.’
’Everything a male noble possesses by birth, I must strive even harder to display.’
’I must be wiser than the average ruler, more rational than the average ruler, and even more ruthless than the average ruler.’
’Compared to male nobles, my margin for error is much narrower. Any single failure will draw doubt and, in turn, affect my authority and rule.’
...
「Milan Marquisate, Genoa」
Night fell. A small boat, battered by the waves, rocked its way toward the shore. As it neared the coast, Tommaso leaped out. He glanced left and right, then hastily grabbed the tow rope, trying to drag his small boat, laden with its catch, away from the shore as quickly as possible.
Or at least find a place to hide his conspicuous boat.
It was the time for the inspection patrols. Tommaso had been tricked by the sea wind; he had lost his course and drifted at sea for seven days. Lacking fresh water, he had nearly died of thirst and was forced to drink the blood of sea fish. All the while, he worried he would drift into the lands of the Saracens, and he feared being captured by the Pisans and sent back to Genoa for trial.
As for why he would face trial, it was because he hadn’t paid the tax for setting sail, nor had he even paid the tax on the boat itself.
These days in Genoa, there were taxes on everything. You had to pay a tax to go to sea, and even to build a boat. The tax was high enough to support a family of three through an entire Winter.
He yanked hard on the tow rope but managed to drag it less than half a step before his strength gave out and he collapsed onto the beach.
Dry sand stuck to his wet beard.
He was too weak, too exhausted.
’I should have made for shore earlier, somewhere more distant and safer. Still, thank God, I’m alive.’
He hoped things would continue to go smoothly.
’Please don’t let the patrol find me. I have no money for taxes. This trip cost me half my life and I got nothing to show for it.’
A wave had smashed a small hole in the hull, forcing him to continuously throw his catch overboard to lighten the load.
He lay on the ground, his consciousness relaxing for a moment as he began to take in his surroundings.
The moon had set, but the sky was still clear, and the beach was dotted with starlight. In the distance stood a few scattered houses, and between them and the tide line was a shipyard.
But it had long been abandoned. Genoa didn’t need so many ships anymore.
Tommaso’s father had been a shipwright, and his three sons worked with him. His father was skilled with his hands but inept at business, so all financial decisions, especially calculating the prices of complex items like small boats or seagoing vessels, were made by his mother.
If a customer wanted to haggle, his father was willing to yield, but his mother would force him to hold firm on the original price.
Those were quite good days, though he hadn’t thought so at the time.
The war between Genoa and Pisa had ended in defeat, and his father was killed in a naval battle ten years ago.
His mother was over forty, an age few women lived past. She was often called shrewd and capable. But not long ago, after he lost his job for some reason, she had thrown herself into the sea to leave more food for him.
Although everyone thought it was an accident, Tommaso knew the truth. That was why he couldn’t stay at home any longer. No, it was his brother’s home now.
Now, he was alone.
Waves crashed against the shore, masking the sound of the hull scraping against the sand.
A girlish giggle startled him.
Under the starry night sky, he saw a naked woman lying on the beach with a man on top of her.
Perhaps Tommaso knew who they were, but he couldn’t see their faces clearly at that moment.
He immediately looked away, not wanting to recognize them.
He guessed his appearance must have startled the two illicit lovers.
The woman looked very young. Perhaps the man was already married.
The Clergy would condemn such acts, but people didn’t always follow the rules. And even the Clergy themselves failed to abide by them.
Half the Priests in the Catholic World were breaking their vows, and most of the rest were well on their way.
It was a biased view, but there was truth to it.
Just as Tommaso was struggling to get up, he felt a chill on his neck.
His body stiffened instantly. It was a Long Spear.
’Damn it...’
"Tommaso? What a surprise. You’re actually still alive, you punk. I was even planning on chipping in for your funeral."
It was a familiar voice.
It was Tommaso’s good friend, Matteo, a member of the patrol.
"Matteo? Thank God. I’m saved. Are you alone?"
"If I wasn’t, you’d be on your knees talking to me right now."
"Slacking off again."
"What the hell’s the point? Busting my ass for who? Risking my life for this shit? Screw it. It’s just me at home, I only have to feed myself. They expect me to work my fingers to the bone for two silver pence a day? Give me a break."
"And what do you mean, slacking off? I’m just giving our dear countrymen a chance to breathe. In a few more years, they’ll probably start taxing the air."
"If those nobles are so capable, why don’t they go fight the Pisans? Instead, they’re here tormenting us every day."
"They can’t beat the Pisans, but they have no problem beating on us, right?"
"Tell me about it. But speaking of which, something interesting happened recently. The Patulin Sect lunatics started a riot in Milan and imprisoned the Marquis. I hear the Patulin Sect plans to turn Milan into another Genoa."
"So, does that mean we’re already in Heaven?"
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