A cool breeze blew and mist shrouded the area, making for a rare fine day in Bilinchi's summer.
On the training ground, a row of knights stood in neat formation, their eyes slightly defiant as they scanned the young king before them.
What they did not know was that the king was scrutinising them too.
"Their height is acceptable, their physique is good... hmm..."
"Their stance shows that they are experienced horsemen, which is not bad..."
It seemed that Conte had indeed selected them carefully.
Isaac turned his head and looked at Conte, who stood solemnly beside him.
"Baron, have them mount their horses and try their pikes."
The knights dressed neatly, held their pikes, mounted their horses and immediately transformed from their previous dejected state into vigorous figures, displaying the bearing befitting a nobleman.
Eager to impress Isaac, these knights displayed all kinds of tricks and techniques.
As he watched their performance on horseback, Isaac felt his heart settle, but he also felt a little uneasy.
He was preparing to form a knight order.
Knights' orders originated during the Crusades. Originally military monastic orders, they were responsible for protecting the faith and rescuing the suffering, charging to the front in holy wars against pagans.
Later, monarchs of various countries gradually realised that establishing knightly orders could greatly enhance the nobility's sense of participation and honour in war. At the same time, a powerful knightly order could play a decisive role on the battlefield.
They were a powerful tool with both political and military functions.
Consequently, knightly orders ceased to be the Church's exclusive military force, and powerful countries began to establish their own.
Prominent examples include the Knights of the Golden Fleece of Burgundy, the Knights of Aviz of Portugal, the Knights of the Garter of England and the Knights of the Dragon of Hungary.
The earliest members of these orders could be divided into four groups: knights, soldiers, clergy and peasants. The most important of these were the knights, who were heavily armoured cavalrymen.
Initially, Isaac aimed to ensure the political purity of the order, recruiting only Greek Orthodox Christians and selecting the strongest from the imperial guard.
However, cruel reality soon set in —
Even among short people, it was difficult to find generals.
In those days, not everyone could become a heavily armoured knight.
They had to be able to withstand hundreds of pounds of armour, wield a four-metre-long heavy lance, be familiar with charging techniques and be skilled in horsemanship.
In short, it was a noble military unit that required either a complete noble system or an advanced military training system.
The Eastern Roman Empire had been in turmoil for many years. Its conscription system had completely collapsed and its military training system existed only in name. Its wars relied entirely on mercenaries and conscripted peasants. There were almost no standing troops, let alone heavily armoured knights.
Years of food shortages had also left these Greek Orthodox Christians in poor physical condition. They had not obtained sufficient nutrition during their growth years, resulting in them lagging far behind in height and weight.
It was impossible to select even a few qualified knights from among them.
Isaac recognised this early on and established the Royal Knight Academy in the hope of rebuilding the military training system.
He also had no choice but to look abroad to find qualified knights.
This is how the French knights who lost their lands came to be recruited.
Using these individuals as a foundation, the organisational structure could be gradually improved, and perhaps they would prove useful in the fateful battle several years later.
As for the more expensive iron-clad holy knights, even with money, ten years of training would be required to produce them.
"Conte, would you be willing to lead a knight organisation?"
Conte was taken aback, but quickly composed himself.
"Your Majesty, are you planning to establish a knight organisation based on these knights from the lost lands?"
Isaac nodded.
"Your Majesty..."
"Are you unwilling?"
"No, it's just that I never expected you to entrust me with such an important position."
Baron Conte smiled.
"I thought you would favour Count Mikhail more."
"Everyone respects Count Mikhail, but our relationship is limited to mere familiarity."
"It doesn't matter. I believe in you."
Isaac smiled and patted Conte on the shoulder.
Isaac's choice of Conte as leader of the knight order was clearly motivated by personal reasons.
On the one hand, Conte was experienced and unassuming, and had no conflicts of interest with the other generals. On the other hand, the French knights trusted Conte and were willing to follow his commands.
And then there was...
"Who would you prefer to fill the vacant position of commander of the Oak Corps?"
"I'm sure His Majesty already has someone in mind."
"What about Deputy Commander Lierde?"
"He is brave and resourceful, and capable of taking on a major role."
Conte sighed inwardly and agreed with Isaac's suggestion.
He knew that just last month, Deputy Commander Lierde had married a woman from the Palaiologos family.
It seemed that His Majesty was no longer content to simply control this army, but was gradually taking it over.
"I hear that you and Helena, Thomas the despot of Achaea's daughter, are in love?"
Isaac smiled at Conte.
"Your Majesty, this..."
Conte's face turned red.
They had only danced together at the coronation ceremony; there was no 'mutual affection' whatsoever.
"Princess Helena likes you very much."
"Your Majesty, I..."
"Then it's settled. I'll ask for her hand on your behalf."
"Once you're married, you'll officially become commander-in-chief."
Isaac's tone was unquestionable.
Conte was helpless.
"Thank you, Your Majesty!"
...
The City Hall of Tripoli.
Albert was led by a servant through layer upon layer of doors and rooms before entering the grand hall.
There were clearly already guests in the hall, and the sound of conversation reached his ears.
"Your Highness, we are willing to formally appoint you as Emir, ruling over the vast lands from Tripoli to Surt..."
The familiar voice belonged to the envoy of the Hafs Dynasty.
Albert sneered.
The merchant council of Tripoli was quite interesting. They always deliberately summoned the Tunisian and Bilinchi envoys to the hall at the same time, enjoying the thrill of watching the two sides engage in a war of words.
Once they gained power, these merchants, who had long been looked down upon, became reckless and arrogant.
Albert shook his head in contempt.
"The envoy from the Kingdom of Cyrenaica, Lord Albert!"
the envoy called out loudly. Albert put on a confident smile, walked into view with dignity and stood next to the Hafs envoy.
The man sitting on the high stage was Tripoli's nominal lord, the puppet prince Nasirlan. He had been elected by the merchants' council and was the older brother of Misurata's lord, Omar, as well as the cousin of the Hafs caliph, Yahya.
"Your Highness! I believe you should expel this Christian envoy from your city. His presence will tarnish Tripoli's reputation!"
Before Albert could respond, the Hafs envoy rushed forward and began his tirade.
Here we go again.
Albert sighed softly.
They had been arguing like this for days on end. Prince Nasirlan had no real power, and the merchants' council was waiting for the right price, sitting idly by while the two sides argued.
"Envoy from Tunis, I believe it is necessary to remind you that this city and its loyal city council do not reject Christians. I have seen Christian merchants from Italy and Spain in the city on more than one occasion."
"Moreover, this is an open and inclusive city, belonging to all its citizens and the city council, not to individuals or families!"
The merchants nearby nodded in agreement upon hearing this, clearly dissatisfied with the Tunisian envoy's excessive emphasis on Nasir Lan's actions.
"Nonsense!" The envoy from Hafs was clearly a seasoned diplomat and did not dwell on topics unfavorable to him. "Since you occupied Sirte and Cyrenaica, countless Muslim civilians have been driven from their homes, sold into slavery and used to crown your king with a golden crown!"
"How much money have you made from selling civilians over the past few years? Ten thousand ducats? Twenty thousand ducats?"
"You and the murderers behind you have no right to talk about religious tolerance!"
The envoy's words were flawless, and Albert was at a loss for words.
This scene had played out several days earlier. Whenever Hafs' envoy lost an argument, he would bring up the slave trade to stir up religious sentiment and divert hatred.
Albert had no good response to this.
His Majesty the King had indeed gone too far — that was an indisputable fact.
"This has nothing to do with what we are discussing. Please stop arguing."
Before Albert could respond, a tall, thin merchant interrupted the envoy's accusations.
Albert knew him. He was Hofen: a Bedouin and the largest slave trader in Tripoli. He had gained a foothold in the city with his Bedouin identity, which was no easy feat.
It was said that, in his early years as a slave trader, Hofen had exploited his identity to lead a Berber tribe in capturing his fellow Bedouins and turning them into slaves, thus completing his bloody accumulation of capital.
In the Berber slave trade conducted by Isaac, Hofen took advantage of his geographical location to sell white slaves to the West, earning a fortune.
Huh...
In the grand hall, a sudden yawn broke the tense atmosphere and everyone hurriedly looked towards its source.
They saw Prince Nasirlan, the representative of power, sitting on the throne with dark circles under his eyes. He was leaning on the armrest and his eyes were unfocused.
Before long, snoring sounds began to emerge, growing louder and louder until they echoed throughout the entire hall.
"Lina, you're so soft... so fragrant..."
Nasirlan's hands began to grope the air as he spoke in his sleep, his mouth hanging open.
The envoy from Hafs sighed heavily and looked disappointed.
"You can try to contact Nasirlan and express our goodwill."
The envoy remembered that this was what Yahya Harif had told him in Tunis.
"But don't place too much hope in him. He's not as clever as Omer."
"This cousin of mine,"
Yahya shook his head.
"I don't know how to evaluate him."
The envoy's initial negotiation strategy was to unite the city's pro-prince forces, offering commercial interests in exchange for the merchants' council's compromise and submission.
However, it turned out that Prince Nasirlan had no power at all. He spent his days hiding in his room with prostitutes and staying up all night, while the merchants' council undermined him completely.
The merchants were interested in trade privileges, but when it came to responsibilities and obligations, they made excuses and procrastinated.
Trying to get something for nothing?
Now, the envoy had no idea how to persuade the Tripoli merchants.
"Tell them we have two objectives."
Yahya stood with his hands behind his back.
"First, we must station troops in Tripoli to guard against Christian attacks."
"Secondly, we hope they will stop trading with the Christians and dispatch private fleets to intercept their pirate ships."
"If that is impossible, then we must try our best to secure their neutrality."
Yahya sighed.
"In short, we must not let them side with the Christians!"
"Rest assured, Your Majesty, we will return victorious!"
The envoy thought of how he had patted his chest and made solemn promises before leaving, and felt a little uncomfortable.
Caliph, what should I do? The envoy raised his head and swallowed his sigh.
"Your Highness, you are tired. Let's call it a day!"
At the right moment, the Bedouin Hofin stepped forward, clearly unperturbed by Nasirlan 's behavior.
"Wait."
A hoarse voice rang out.
Zakariq, the president of the merchants' council and mayor of Tripoli, who was standing closest to Nasir Lan, spoke slowly.
He walked to the center of the hall, naturally blocking everyone's view of Nasirlan.
The president narrowed his eyes and looked at Albert.
His eyes were narrow and always flashed with a sharp light.
Zakariq's gaze scanned Albert from head to toe, giving him goose bumps.
He was like a poisonous scorpion raising its stinger.
Albert thought to himself.
"Messenger from the East, before we begin negotiations, I have a question."
His voice was hoarse and unpleasant, but carried the arrogance and authority of someone who had held power for a long time.
"Speak."
"Your Mediterranean fleet disappeared after its last appearance in the Homs region, leaving only a few pirate ships."
"Can you tell me,"
Zakariq stared at Albert's eyes like a poisonous snake, making him feel uncomfortable.
"Where did they go?"
"To protect the suffering and rescue our compatriots."
"To protect the innocent and rescue our compatriots."
"With my sword, I will wipe out the petty criminals."
Meanwhile, in the Cathedral of Bilinchi, Archbishop Elster was presiding over a ceremony.
The co-emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire, the king of Cyrenaica and the despotic Prince of Surt, Isaac Palaiologos, stood by waiting for it to end.
"In the name of God, I vow to protect the faith."
"In the name of Saint Simon, I swear loyalty to the king."
"I swear in the name of the Lord, and I will wield my sword in His name."
"I will be loyal to the Roman emperor and become his sharpest spear."
"I swear in the name of the Lord, and I will wield my sword in His name."
Baron Conte led the knights in a loud oath.
Isaac stepped forward, took the sword from his waist and placed it in Conte's raised hands.
"Baron Conte, I appoint you as the first Grand Marshal. May you fulfil your oath."
"I will protect it with my life!"
Conte shouted.
"I will protect it with my life!"
The knights shouted in unison.
Isaac looked at their excited faces, but his heart remained calm.
After several days of thought, he had essentially designed the framework for the knight order.
The Honorable Knights, including Isaac and the other nobles, were a political creation and did not go to battle. There were twenty-four of them, similar to the Knights of the Guard and the Knights of the Golden Fleece.
The knights were the main force of the order: heavily armored cavalry responsible for charging into battle and playing a decisive role on the battlefield. Currently, there were fifty-three knights, with plans to expand to one hundred.
Squires formed the reserve force of the knight order, occupying a position between support personnel and combatants. They managed the knights' daily lives and military affairs and could join the battle when necessary. There were currently 106 squires, all of whom were graduates of the Royal Knight Academy.
Monks: The spiritual force of the order, they are Orthodox monks loyal to Isaac and responsible for political work.
For the time being, Isaac is paying for these knights himself, but he will allocate castles and land to them in the future.
Currently, these knights are not very loyal to Isaac, and it will take time to cultivate their loyalty.
As for oaths, just listen to them and be happy.
On 29 July 1449, Isaac founded the Knights of Saint Simon in Bilinchi and named Saint Simon, one of the twelve apostles of Jesus who was renowned for his loyalty, as the patron saint of the knightly order.
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