Chapter 626: The Secret of Power
November 1465, Constantinople, Gate of Eugenios.
The early morning sun casts a golden glow over the harbour as it welcomes an eclectic group: scholars with scrolls tucked under arms, curious students with inquisitive eyes, merchants hoping to establish new trade links, and eager tourists. They all converge at the bustling assembly point in the rejuvenated harbour, which once thrummed with Venetian vigour.
The newly established Tourism Board of Thessaloniki had sent out invitations far and wide, and these are the fortunate few to accept. They are here to witness history in the making: the coronation of the region’s new ruler, Antonius De’Ricci.
Amid the throng stands an attendant, her attire a nostalgic throwback to traditional Greek fashion – a rarity these days as modern Greeks opt for more utilitarian clothing. However, her garb, resplendent in its rich hues, showcases the elegance of days gone by.
The guests are ushered onto a specially designed carriage, each one more opulent than the last. As the horses start trotting, the group is taken on a mesmerizing journey along the newly constructed Messe. As the city unfurls, iconic sights like Hagia Sophia, the Great Palace, Armoury, Great Theatre, and the Hippodrome etch lasting impressions on their minds.
With practiced grace, the attendant addresses the gathered visitors, her voice brimming with pride: "Dear esteemed Tourists.
Well, you arrived at the Gate of Eugenios, the gateway to the capital,
On behalf of The Honourable βασίλισσα, her Majesty Anna Notaras De’Ricci, the Minister of education and tourism,
I would like to welcome you tourists from the known world to Constantinople,
The eternal capital of the Roman Empire.
I hope you like it, wish you a pleasant stay, may your time here be as magnificent as the city itself.
..."
Amidst the lively commentary of the attendant, murmurs of conversation bubbled up among the passengers. A man draped in luxurious robes leaned towards his neighbour, a robust figure boasting an impressive beard, initiating a conversation in fluent Greek.
"Greetings, friend."
The bearded stranger responded with a proud smile. "Hello."
"..."
A brief pause lingered before the first man inquired, "Where do you hail from?"
The bearded man answered, "I come from Kiev. I’m a student. My family sent me here to immerse myself in the history of the Romans and Greek Literature."
"And you?" he asked, turning the question around. "Have you been here before?"
"I was born in this region." The man replied looking outside at the streets. "I left this city when I was a kid, before the Ottoman Sultan came besieging the city. My mother was a noble’s daughter, big noble in the region, actually... What is your name?"
"Ivan," came the swift reply. "Ivan of Kiev."
"I’m Hamza. Hamza of Cairo. Pleasure to meet you."
...
Their amiable chat was interrupted as a regiment of guards marched past; heads held high. While the group of tourists gaped in awe, Ivan and Hamza perceived something different. Hamza respected the unwavering discipline, while Ivan admired the gleaming, meticulously maintained armour, the sharpened blades, and the peculiar, strange rod-like weapons perched on the soldiers’ shoulders.
The attendant’s voice rang out, "The Roman Empire, under the leadership of the Great Basileus Antonius De’Ricci, will always welcome our friends of the world for peace and friendship... We have nothing to hide, we have many issues at the current moment such as post war rebuild, poverty, starvation, but at the same time, we have many achievements that we want to share with you."
She continued, her enthusiasm evident, "We recommend that during your stay here to visit the newly renovated Great Palace of Constantinople, the Hagia Sophia, and the Arch of Triumph in the Forum of Constantine. The war among the Romans have ended a long time ago, please give us a chance to show our sincerity in rebuilding our homelands and come back onto the world stage, is that not what everyone wants?"
The carriage pulled to a gentle stop, signalling their arrival at a renovated establishment—formerly the Palace of Botaneiates, now a lavish hotel.
"Thank you for your patience and attention, honourable guests," the attendant chimed. "And above all, long live our Basileus, Antonius De’Ricci!"
The day’s end saw the tourists filtering into the grand hotel hall, greeted by attendants eager to assist with their baggage. The pair of newly formed friends on this trip, Ivan and Hamza, too bid farewell towards one another, as the two of them turned to their respective rooms.
The night had cast its shroud, yet Ivan, our noble friend, found no respite in slumber. Restlessly he tossed on his bed, the visage of the moon outside only intensifying his thoughts of the troopers he had glimpsed earlier. He could not but draw comparisons between them and the ones from his homeland, garbed as they were in modest leather armour and wielding dulled blades, a consequence of the arduous task of forging iron in inclement weather and the ceaseless strife over the Ural iron mines.
A soft rap sounded upon Ivan’s chamber door. With haste, he descended from his bed, drawing the door open, only to quickly secure it once the visitor stepped inside. No sooner had the door closed, than the newcomer knelt, bending a knee, proclaiming, "Your Majesty."
Upon the door being shut, the incomer immediately kneed onto the ground with one knee as he pleaded his loyalty. "Your Majesty."
Ivan, who is non other than the Grand Prince of the Duchy of Moskva, pulled the man up from the ground and asked in an anxious manner. "How is it? Have you got the information that I wants?"
"Yes, your Majesty." The man nodded. "There is a new metal forge getting erected on the south bank of the city, by the son of that new officer of weaponry and engineering, Jacob Orban. This newly established metal forge is responsible for supplying metals that shall be used for the rebuilding of Constantinople."
"What about weapon manufacturing? Have you seen that new weapon those soldiers are carrying on their shoulders today? Do they produce that?"
"Yes, your Majesty..." The man nodded, and before he could say anything else, his liege pulled him by the cloth, and opened the door again. "Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!"
"But it is already way too late into the night, the streets might not be safe!"
"No time should be wasted sleeping if there exists a way to make my country more powerful, and all kinds of danger should be kept aside if I see a glimpse of success on the path before my eyes."
Descending the staircase, they were met by the maiden who had attended to them by day, conversing with her kin. Upon seeing her charges, she approached with a query regarding their nightly venture. Ivan, with a discreet smile, voiced his wish to behold the nocturnal splendour of the city. She offered a warning of ongoing constructions, signalling in a strange manner for them to be wary overhead.
With gratitude, Ivan promptly took to the streets, mounted his awaiting steed, and sped forth under the guidance of his confidant.
Even at this hour, the forge was a hive of activity. Swarms of craftsmen, stripped to the waist in spite of the chill, manipulated their tools with precision, sculpting red-hot metal into desired forms. Each cooled piece hissed upon meeting the icy embrace of Marmara’s waters.
Though guards kept watch over this establishment, no barriers deterred foreign onlookers, allowing Ivan an unobstructed view. Enthralled, he beheld mechanisms and techniques alien to both Novgorod and Moskva. The brilliance of the forge mirrored in his eyes, the Grand Prince, with no regard for the intense heat despite of the fact that he is in his winter cloth, ventured forth, his loyal courtier had no choice but to follow his liege suffocating together in the heat.
In the forge, amidst the workers, the Grand Prince behaved like a curious child, as he could not keep himself from asking one after another question to the workers here, occasionally getting his hands on one of the machines and getting cursed and chased away by the workers. But Ivan, would always try his last bit of effort with all means to stay as long as possible, and understand how these machines work. Ivan is a happy man today, or he thinks that he is one, as he feels like he has finally got a Midas touch in his head on how to make the kingdom under his rule stronger – finally.
The happiness lasted until he saw a man familiar, who is among these metal forges like him, and it is non other than the new friend from Cairo that he has met just earlier today.
The two men’s sight met, then immediately turned and walked away, for they have both realised that their new friend must be no ordinary figure, and there must be a purpose because they are hiding their identities from the others, Ivan understands it, as he should not even be here, disguised as a tourist in a first place.
