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Anno Domini 828,January-11
We had gained great wealth from the raids and lost few men by comparison, considering that we had taken a city of fifteen thousand inhabitants and the thousands of guards it should have had, all of whom fell like autumn leaves before Varangian fury.
The treasury of Tripoli was rather mediocre compared to what we had found in Crete, but that was understandable. Crete was the capital of an emirate devoted to piracy and accumulated vast amounts of plunder. Tripoli, on the other hand, held reserves of around ten thousand gold coins, far more silver than anything else, but still a considerable sum for a merchant city that did not engage in piracy and instead functioned as a commercial node within the Abbasid network of the region.
What we took in abundance were slaves. In the city, we encountered a small surprise, as not all of them were Sarakenoi. While there were several Muslim groups, we also found remnants of Greek or Roman descendants. Some of them spoke Latin. I had some knowledge of ecclesiastical Latin, though this was very different, except for certain words and patterns of pronunciation that I could still recognize.
Apparently, there were still remnants of the Roman Empire in the area, something I had not considered in my plans. During the sack, many survivors—or rather, the children of earlier survivors—died in great numbers. That would not have happened had I had time to analyze every variable, but given the speed of the raid, I could not account for everything, which led to the deaths of people who could have been easily integrated into Crete.
That knowledge would be kept for the future. After gathering our possessions in Djerba, we held around ten thousand slaves in our control. We made a stop in Malta and organized the loot to be sent back in groups, which allowed us to continue raiding the African coast.
Our presence would have meant little if we had attacked only one place and vanished. We needed to become a constant problem, a thorn driven into the enemy's ribs, so that they could not act without feeling pressure and would be forced to take us into account in every military decision.
Thus, with the captured Sarakenoi ships, the dromons, and the drakkars, we continued our season of raiding along the African coast.
In the areas closest to what had once been considered Carthage, we found the highest concentrations of Greeks—or Romans, more accurately, since most of them spoke Latin. Our attacks continued, and there were numerous engagements with the regional Sarakenoi fleet, but with sea wolves like the Varangians, we constantly led them into traps, using small groups of drakkars as bait to draw in larger fleets and then closing in on them, striking from every flank.
On several occasions, the tactic worked. We captured numerous warships and dozens of merchant vessels. Over time, we noticed that nearly all ports had been reinforced with guards and that no one was sailing along the coast anymore.
After interrogating prisoners following a night attack on a fishing village, I understood that orders had been given to avoid us. With their entire fleet concentrated at Syracuse, our raids could not be countered by the few ships left in the region. Thus, for months, we burned and looted everything in our path with little resistance.
It seemed that we had forced the Aghlabid fleet to return after delivering a large quantity of supplies to Syracuse.
We soon began our withdrawal. Facing a fleet of that size would have been a mistake, and we likely could not have defeated it. Even so, I considered the mission more than accomplished. It was already close to January, and for months we had burned settlements, sacked villages, and taken tens of thousands of slaves from the coasts. We also freed several thousand former Romans from life under the Aghlabids, though in some cases they had not even been slaves, which left me with certain reservations about them.
So when we gathered in Malta, we took everything we had and left the island abandoned, leaving only the defenders behind to continue their duty, hoping the Sarakenoi would not attempt to take it. It had been an excellent base for raiding Africa and would likely be useful the following year, should I be ordered to do so again.
After that, and after nearly two weeks at sea, we returned to Heraklion after months away. From afar, the enormous changes that had taken place during my absence were immediately visible. The harbor had finally been completed, and instead of being a small local port, it had become a massive installation, worthy of a world-scale trade center. More than a thousand ships could dock side by side, and there were large markets that still stood empty.
However, what pleased me most upon returning from such a successful campaign against the Sarakenoi was seeing that there were around forty ships that did not belong to me. I recognized several as Imperial merchant vessels and others as commercial ships from different regions, likely European.
For the first time, I could observe the real benefits of my investments. Seeing merchants arrive and noticing that buildings had been constructed following the Roman system, with large structures where shops were leased, gave me a satisfaction that was hard to describe. There were open stores, merchants offering their goods, and for the first time, Heraklion felt like a growing city.
What did have constant activity was a street that had apparently become a slave market. An entire thoroughfare was filled with sellers who gathered at the harbor to buy newly arrived slaves and resell them.
''Well… I suppose it's better than nothing,'' I said as I observed that, for now, the only truly active market was that of people.
''Isn't that a good thing?'' Sigurd said, scratching his beard as he looked at the crowded market.
''Yes… I just wanted Heraklion to be known for other things, and not as the largest Sarakenoi slave market in the region,'' I replied, watching the scene with a hint of disappointment.
''Well… if the Sarakenoi were better warriors, they wouldn't end up like this. It was very easy. They fell into every trap we set for them. It was obvious they had never fought at sea. Any trick we came up with, they ended up falling for. And with what you did in Tripoli, they're never going to forget us. I can't wait to come back next year and see if they learned anything from us,'' Sigurd said, showing a satisfied smile.
''Yes… let's hope they didn't learn too much. Worse than that would mean many dead. Losing only about three hundred men in combat over months of campaigning was a good result, but I need to see if they can be replaced. Your father should have returned by now, so I need to find him, hoping he didn't go back to Svearike. Give me a moment,'' I said, handing back the bows.
I moved among the ships transporting prisoners.
''Remember that any slaves who know trades such as carpentry, masonry, tanning, tailoring, brickmaking, or any work not related to farming or goat herding are not to be sold,'' I shouted to the Varangians who were unloading the slaves, as merchants began to gather to bid on them.
Before leaving, I saw some Varangians beginning to offer the slaves for sale. They had learned a few words in Greek to say ''for sale'' and ''Sarakenoi slave,'' nothing more than that. The merchants began making their offers while inspecting the merchandise, making sure it was not damaged.
I quickly went to the fortress of Heraklion to begin doing the calculations and distributing the loot among the Varangian participants, with a smaller share set aside for the mercenaries who had remained behind.
I entered the old sector of the city and noticed that demolition work on the old houses had already begun. Several areas were being modified to become administrative buildings. A sewer system was being built that would empty directly into the sea, a kind of city hall to centralize authority, a tax office, barracks for the guard, a messenger office, and larger granaries, many of them underground. Everything was designed for administrative work. The inner walls would be devoted entirely to administration, while the city would expand outward, where a second wall would later be built once growth justified it. For now, that area remained largely uninhabited.
The gate guards recognized me and let me pass without delay. I went up to my office and found Lysander working with an abacus, surrounded by multiple open books, reviewing information and constantly making notes.
''Strategos,'' Lysander said upon seeing me, standing up to greet me. ''Oh… my god… you smell terrible,'' he added, squinting as he came closer.
''Come on, is it really that bad?'' I replied, smelling my clothes.
''My strategos, I've been on fields full of corpses that shit themselves and smelled better,'' he said, covering his nose.
''Well, not much could be done. With the water we had in the area, full baths weren't possible. We had to capture Sarakenoi,'' I replied as I moved closer to the books. ''How are things?'' I asked, interested.
''Fine… relatively fine. We ran out of funds in the treasury two weeks ago, so I had to act and use part of the loot from the slaves that were sold. Many were sold here at a price of seven nomismata per head, since taking them to Constantinople was complicated with the small fleet that stayed behind. Other merchants bought slaves directly. We sold around fifteen thousand heads, which left us with nearly one hundred thousand nomismata in the coffers. That's not counting what you brought back now. After paying this month's expenses and the island's taxes, about fifty thousand remain,'' Lysander explained, pointing at the accounts.
''So the emperor didn't even give me any tax relief,'' I said, shaking my head. ''Fine… at least we have loot. Add another ten thousand nomismata. We still have many things to sell, and we arrived with another four thousand slaves for the market. There are more, but some are property of the Varangians. I promised them that for every ten slaves captured, one would be theirs. Some have five or more personal slaves. It was a good campaign,'' I said with a tired smile.
''Yes… I can smell it,'' Lysander replied. ''By the way, I think you should know. Many Varangians arrived over the last few months. I don't know what that Hakon is doing, but many came. Almost seventeen thousand Varangians. Many from the same group as before, but now they came with their families. Women, children, and few warriors. Those jarl arrived… is that how you say it?'' Lysander asked, looking at Sigurd.
''Yes… jarl,'' Sigurd replied.
''They must be members of their groups, like Hakon's people. That's not bad. Considering the Sarakenoi slaves I won't sell because they have valuable skills, and the Romans recovered from Sarakenoi territory, the island must have gained about five thousand more inhabitants. That's excellent news. In less than a year the population increased by around twenty thousand. We're on the right path to recovering the former population,'' I replied.
''Yes… and we owe that to the Varangians, especially since they're the ones preventing our port from being destroyed. There was an attempted raid that was stopped by the Varangians guarding the sea. Hakon has already left, but he said he'll probably return with a larger group. So expect to speak with the jarl to explain things to them. We've had some issues because they try to talk to you every day about different matters and about how to improve the situation,'' Lysander explained.
''Fine… I'll speak with them. Calculate how much we gained from all this and I'll see how to distribute the loot. Take a bonus of fifty nomismata. You earned it. I'm going to take a bath, cut my hair, and shave this bit of beard, because honestly I'm sticky after so many days without a proper bath,'' I said as I walked toward the fortress baths, ready to begin putting order to everything that had happened while I was away.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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