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Anno Domini 825, December 13–17
The cold had already arrived with December and, as expected, it caught us in a bad position. I needed far more houses for everyone to live decently, and that simply did not happen—there was nothing I could do about it. Although thousands of people worked relentlessly to raise as many houses as possible, even with specialized equipment and experienced laborers, we only managed to build 423 houses out of those we needed.
They were solid houses of brick and cement, built following the Byzantine construction pattern. Many were completed and now sheltered most of the population, who from the following year onward would begin paying me rent to live here. That would provide a steady income, dependent on nothing more than people continuing to live on this land.
The remaining houses would be finished over the next two or three months, after which everyone would finally have a roof over their heads. Only then could I focus on building a proper home for myself. One of the first houses had been reserved for my parents, who were now living comfortably in a beautiful newly built home near the Evros River, close to Ainos. In any case, my father still had to remain with the city garrison, as he was mobilized until March of the following year, serving as an active soldier until his year rotation ended.
Still, these months had not been wasted. With the substantial funds obtained from the silver taken in Bulgaria, I could now invest properly in improving my working infrastructure.
For example, I had been working on a prototype blast furnace. I had some vague recollection of having seen diagrams of how such furnaces were built while researching for my own smithy, and I tried to recreate one based on that knowledge. The success had been limited—likely due to materials, technological constraints, or simply my lack of technical understanding.
Even so, I had managed to build a furnace capable of melting iron with relative ease. Producing steel, however, required many men working the bellows constantly to reach sufficiently high temperatures, which was far from ideal. I would have needed several apprentices pumping like mad just to keep it running. Still, once heated, it allowed me to work large quantities of material, which was what truly mattered.
And large quantities would be needed. My smithy had grown from fifty workers to more than five hundred during that time, most of them young men in training. Many were assigned to tasks requiring less experience—linking mail, or shaping steel plates with the trip hammer—since I had committed to outfitting military equipment on a large scale.
For the moment, everything was functioning well. Ainos was ideal: all the materials I needed passed through here, from coal to iron. Merchants stopped frequently at this trading town to unload their goods before continuing on to Adrianople or deeper into the thema.
As a result, materials were cheaper and far easier to obtain here, and the geographic position of my smithy was optimal.
I had teams working on mail hauberks, swords, spears, and crossbows for my men, fitting gloves and boots with mail, and assembling brigandines—steel plates riveted together and joined by cloth or leather. These were nearly as effective as full plate cuirasses, even if they did not offer the same resistance to crushing blows or deformation.
They were, however, far less labor-intensive to make and provided excellent protection when worn over full mail and a padded gambeson. Heavy hammer blows could still break bones, but the armor was cheaper and did not require assistance to put on.
Everything seemed to be going well. During all this time, not a single pirate—none at all—had appeared, while I understood that the Bulgarians had tried to raid again after the harvests, hoping to take whatever they could. I was far removed from those conflicts.
Of course, I now had fewer buyers than before. In Adrianople, much of the garrison came regularly to buy swords, spears, or repairs. The garrison of Ainos was very small—barely a kentarchos in command—so I only had to supply around a hundred men.
As a result, my warehouse would soon begin filling with armor once all my mercenaries were properly equipped.
Having spent more than I should have from my reserves—and likely burning through much of what remained until the next year, when steady rental income would begin—I was operating at a loss. Selling weapons was not simple; you could not just hand them off to a merchant. More often than not, you had to place them directly in a soldier's hands.
So it did not take long for me to make my way to Ainos, to the city shipyard at the harbor, where a small imperial shipbuilding operation was underway.
Not long ago, I had negotiated the purchase of three large phortēgoi from the Byzantine war fleet. They had been damaged in a clash with Muslim pirates and were so badly battered that they were likely to be scuttled. When the news reached me, I offered three hundred gold coins for the ships. They accepted immediately, and I sent them to the shipyard for repairs—paying five hundred coins after a hard negotiation to have them restored and kept afloat.
Considering that ships of this class were easily worth six hundred gold coins each, I had saved an enormous amount of gold simply by buying damaged vessels.
I had been waiting for word, and now it seemed the ships were finally ready.
"How are my ships?" I asked as I walked toward the shipyard master, who looked at me intently while wiping his bald head with a damp cloth.
"Good… as I told you, they were badly damaged," the shipyard master said. "I had to replace large sections of the hull. That means that in another fight against pirates the damage could be even worse, so be careful. Also watch out for rocks that rise close to the surface of the sea. Aside from that, the ship should hold well." He walked alongside me, pointing out the sections where the timber had clearly been replaced.
"Yes, I don't plan to use them for fighting. I intend to use them mainly as merchant vessels. I need to move materials to Constantinople, so thank you for the good work," I said, extending my hand.
The shipyard master wiped his hand with the cloth and shook mine firmly.
"Nothing to thank me for. If you ever have more ships to repair, please remember us. Ship sales have fallen sharply because of the pirates, and repairs as well," he said.
"I'll keep it in mind, but I don't need to move enough cargo to require more ships than these three. Honestly, one would have been enough, but they were so cheap I couldn't refuse," I said with a smile.
"If only everyone thought the same way," he replied, taking his leave and returning to his work on another project—an imperial dromōn with rows of oars, bearing a hole that looked like the result of a ram strike.
I had zero naval experience. I had never set foot on a ship before, so I truly knew nothing about sailing the sea. But this was the fastest means of transport available, and if I wanted to reach the most lucrative market in the region, I had no other choice.
Once inside the city, I began searching the local taverns for experienced sailors. Since these were sailing vessels, I did not need rowers—it was easy to spot them anyway, with their incredibly well-developed torsos and arms from rowing for hours every day.
Finding captains was far more difficult. I managed to hire one experienced captain who had recently lost his ship, and two others who had been seen commanding vessels before. They did not inspire much confidence, but I needed to put the ships to work as soon as possible.
So, recruiting thirty sailors at five silver coins per month and the three captains at one gold coin per month, we began loading the ships. The cargo included several silver ingots, brigandines, mail hauberks, swords, axes, spears, and several steel ingots. We partially filled one of the holds of a ship and embarked part of my mercenary company onto another, fitting them in as best we could.
Taking advantage of the moment, we set sail for Constantinople.
The voyage did not begin well. Some men started vomiting almost immediately, falling ill from the motion of the ship. I felt fine, though there was a constant pressure in my stomach caused by the movement of the sea.
The journey was meant to last a day, so I had no choice but to grow accustomed to it. As we passed through the Hellespont, I noticed three ships flying Byzantine banners fighting another vessel that was trying to flee.
"Looks like pirates," I said, watching the clash.
The captain left his post and observed the scene with me.
"Yes… though it's hard to say who they are," he replied.
"They're not Muslims?" I asked, assuming that would be the obvious answer.
The captain shook his head. "They might be. They've been very active since Crete became their base of operations. But they could also be bandits who seized a ship, a merchant taking the risk of turning pirate, Arabs, Bulgarians, Rus—though those are more common near Constantinople—or even Scythians. It could be any of them."
"I see… I thought it was only the Muslims," I said, watching the distant ships continue their fight.
"Maritime trade is a problem precisely because it's so profitable," the captain said. "If there are bandits on the roads, you'll find pirates at sea. Many can hide in plain sight. Best we continue and avoid other ships. Assume anyone could be one."
The days passed quickly. We saw no other ships beyond a few that sailed past us, and we watched one another closely, each likely suspecting the other of piracy.
With favorable winds and our stomachs finally settling after days at sea, I began to make out an immense city on the horizon—the jewel of the Empire.
Constantinople.
And with a bit of luck, I would be able to sell all the military equipment I carried, invest the profits in businesses here, and finally stop depending on a highly specialized trade—one that relied entirely on my skills and my ability to command men.
We drew closer, and the massive walls of the city stretched as far as the eye could see.
It took another hour to reach the harbors, crowded with moored ships. Thousands of people moved among them, hauling crates and goods from vessel to vessel.
We began the mooring process, and I paid the city's docking fee—nothing excessive, a few dozen silver coins. But soon I was already setting my goods in motion. I needed to quickly locate the military districts to offer my wares and find a house or storefront nearby, so I could establish a shop there without delay.
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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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