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Anno Domini 828,January-26
I left with a strange taste in my mouth. I had no clear idea of his past or of who he truly was. He could become a good emperor—or a dangerous idiot—and honestly, I did not know which of the two he would end up being. Everything depended on what he truly intended to do when the time came.
Because, put that way, everything sounded wonderful. The greatest problem of the Empire was the rampant corruption of the elites. If that could be solved, enormous armies could be raised with the funds that many aristocrats must have hidden away, using all kinds of schemes to avoid paying taxes. The most common was to disappear into another imperial province, wait for the tax season to pass, and then return as if nothing had happened, paying a small bribe so someone would conveniently forget the previous year.
That, quite clearly, interested me. A strong Empire meant that nothing would put my family at risk. Nothing. All that would remain would be to visit Bulgaria, find that Bulgarian zhupan—if he was still alive—and make him regret the day he was born. With that done, I would feel that I had fulfilled all my objectives.
After that, I could relax. Grow old in peace, enjoy the Mediterranean climate, good food, and perhaps consider whether I wanted to start a family.
But to reach that point, more effort was still required. Teophilos had made one thing very clear: a massive war was going to break out, and it would likely be internal first. The aristocrats would not tolerate their privileges being cut or their power being limited unless they understood that the imbalance of force was insurmountable. The possibility of a civil war was real, and that was why a clear demonstration of unity would be necessary to achieve goals that—at least in theory—were aimed at the common good.
Clearly, knowing all this, I had to be ready. I needed to prepare for those events without appearing to aim for anything beyond my station. Too much foresight could be interpreted as ambition—as if I were seeking the imperial crown.
Setting that aside, I had forty thousand nomismata from the imperial treasury already aboard my ships to begin new construction. Considering my usual expenses, that sum covered almost my entire annual budget, which stood at around fifty-five thousand nomismata. In theory, I should have received only half of that, so I would have been in trouble had it not been for the fact that, as a major landholder in Crete, I could move internal funds to cover that fiscal gap.
On top of that was the war loot I did not have to hand over to the emperor—a considerable amount, another fifty thousand nomismata. I was returning from Africa with an enormous fortune, enough to sustain years of growth if used carefully.
Once back in Heraklion, I began preparing plans to expand industry. The forges had to keep growing. I needed to equip all my men and, beyond that, build up vast reserves of armor. If a situation like the previous one arose again, I had to be able to arm the Varangians and any allied forces quickly, without relying on external shipments.
The idea of going to Sicily did not convince me. I had received the situation report and, apparently, with the Aghlabid fleet back in Africa guarding the coast to prevent further attacks, the Umayyad fleet had withdrawn completely. No one knew exactly why, but everything pointed to a breakdown in the alliance between the Sarakenoi lords. In Sicily, only a small fleet remained, leaving the army there fairly isolated. Imperial forces had already regained control of the sea and begun retaking lost fortresses.
My presence was not urgent. It would undoubtedly have accelerated the recovery if I destroyed the remaining fleet and assisted in the sieges, but the strategos of Sicily could finish the job with relative ease—especially now that armies from other themata were sending supplies and reinforcements. In that context, Crete remained my absolute priority.
So, once settled back on the island, I traveled on horseback to Knossos. It was a settlement that was largely uninhabited. Almost exclusively, only the smiths and their families lived there, occupying the ancient ruins of Greek civilization, repairing buildings and bringing back into operation infrastructure that had existed centuries before.
The forge itself was a vast complex of furnaces, water wheels, and automated bellows. The heat was suffocating the moment one entered. A large number of experienced smiths worked there, having spent months laboring continuously, producing armor in a repetitive and organized manner, following an almost linear system of production.
They were manufacturing mail hauberks, brigandines, pauldrons, arm and forearm guards, gauntlets covered with steel plates, greaves, mail chausses with groin protection, boots covered with steel plates, as well as kettle helmets and steel face masks. They had also begun producing bevors in large quantities. It was a more complex process, but it offered far greater protection for the face and neck.
I had considered producing sallets with full facial protection, but that would have meant losing a significant amount of peripheral vision, so for the time being I left it as an option to evaluate later.
In addition, I had begun hiring a large number of tailors to produce padded cotton gambesons, hardened with seawater. The idea was to adapt the principle of Mesoamerican armor, but transform it into a gambeson that would also protect the arms and not just the torso, while reducing its thickness so it could be worn comfortably under armor. I also planned to add an inner layer of linen to prevent sweat from being absorbed by the cotton. With that, it should be a significant improvement as an underlayer beneath mail and brigandine.
That, however, would take time before I could equip everyone with something like that. I had only hired around two hundred workers to produce this lighter type of armor. Cotton was not abundant and had to be divided between papermaking and armor production, and importing it was difficult. Almost all cotton was produced in Sarakenoi territories, and within the Empire only Cyprus produced it in relevant quantities—but nearly all of it was destined for aristocratic garments. I strongly doubted there would be any surplus for sale as long as there was the option of offering it to a wealthy noble willing to pay for comfortable, light clothing for the summer.
So there was nothing left to do but try to produce whatever we could.
As for weapon production, I was certain that I needed to carry out a complete transition from swords and spears to halberds. It was a vastly superior weapon in almost every respect. In a single piece it combined spear, axe, and hammer, making it effective against enemies both armored and unarmored.
I had to assume that my forces would fight as heavily armored, cohesive units, so the weaponry had to favor close combat and steady advance like a moving wall, further supported by intensive use of crossbows.
That meant expanding Knossos like never before. I wanted the forge to grow until it employed around ten thousand people. Multiplying the workforce several times over required a massive expansion of infrastructure: more water wheels, more river-driven automated hammers, more bellows, more smiths—and above all, more steel.
The problem was not only money. It was the training of smiths and, above all, the available population. I could not pull people from the fields and move them into the forges. Food was vital for the island, and although we had surplus production, continuous population growth could cause famine if we neglected the basics.
So, when I returned to my office to begin calculating everything needed to improve military industry, I was finally brought the first complete copies.
''So… here it is,'' I said as I reviewed the book, paying more attention to the quality of the work than to the content.
''That's right, my jarl. It took many attempts, but we've mastered the process. The stations are well distributed, and as long as we have plenty of paper and ink, we can produce several books a day,'' said the young Varangian leader who had brought me the copies.
''Interesting. By your calculations, how many books can you produce per day?'' I asked, comparing several volumes. All of them were well assembled and neatly ordered.
''It depends on the day, my jarl. If we focus only on producing sheets, we don't make books. But once we have enough sheets ready, we can produce thirty or forty books in a day, for two or three days, until the sheets run out and we have to print again for another four days,'' he replied with a smile.
''So a hundred books. Let's say I can sell them at ten nomismata each. A thousand a week, four thousand a month. After salaries, paper, and ink, that leaves about two thousand in profit. Of course, finding buyers will be the real problem,'' I said with a broad smile.
''I'm glad to see you satisfied, my jarl. We'll keep working as fast as we can to meet your expectations,'' he replied, clearly more at ease.
''Good. Work hard and I'll make sure that, by the end of the year, several gold coins from those profits end up in your pockets. You may go,'' I said, genuinely pleased.
The Varangian returned to his work.
''Now… finding customers. Most merchants come only for Sarakenoi slaves. When that flow dries up, they may stop coming or look for another business,'' I thought aloud.
As I reflected, Lysander appeared with several books in his hands and a clearly satisfied expression.
''What's with that smile?'' I asked him.
''Nothing minor, my strategos. I managed to drastically reduce the cost of our account books. Since we don't use papyrus, I got the paper at cost and the glue from the shepherds. With that, I made these,'' he said, showing me completely blank books.
''Very good, Lysander. Very good. In fact, selling blank books could be an excellent business. Every merchant needs one to organize taxes and inventories,'' I replied, genuinely interested.
''The best part is the savings. Three hundred sheets of papyrus would have cost fifty nomismata. This book cost me seven, even counting the leather and glue. It can easily be sold for a similar amount,'' he said, satisfied, sitting down and beginning to jot down numbers.
''Lysander, a question. What happened to most of the young Greeks you taught to read, now that the census is over?'' I asked, remembering that I had educated people available.
''I have them helping me with calculations or sending them to shops and merchants to keep accounts. Of course, we charge for the service to justify their wages. They move through the markets helping whoever needs it,'' he replied.
''Good. I like that they understand numbers. I have an idea. We can't rely on all local markets. Many ship captains could skim off a large portion of the profits. I want to create our own merchant company and use the nearly two hundred merchant ships we have in the harbor. If merchants don't come to us, we'll go to the markets of the Empire,'' I said with a smile.
''At your command, my strategos. I'll call them in,'' Lysander replied, closing his book and leaving the office.
''Sigurd, go find some of the Varangians who took part in the raid. Choose the most reliable ones. I'll give them a security assignment—something I know they'll do well,'' I ordered my hird.
''At your command,'' Sigurd replied, leaving the room with a firm stride.
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a slow breath.
How good it felt to have a full treasury and, for the first time in a long while, to be able to relax just a little.
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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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