While in Taranto a futile affair was boiling over, in San Carlo things were progressing smoothly.
"Your Highness. A search party dispatched from the Knights Templar has swept the entire country, from the northern border to the central and southern regions."
Sir Manfredi compiled the reports of the scouts he had sent out to Prince Alfonso.
Prince Alfonso, who was leaning back in his study chair and looking out at the snowy winter landscape of San Carlo, turned his gaze towards Sir Manfredi.
“What’s the conclusion?”
“Bandits are running rampant. They don’t differentiate between coastal and inland areas.”
Alfonso groaned softly and touched his forehead. He had flown through battlefields without a single ache and pain, but this pain had set in less than a year after returning to the palace, surrounded by tight security. It was a stab. No matter how you looked at it, this was a symptom of a migraine.
“You’re saying there’s no difference between regions?”
“Not that much.”
Sir Manfredi, seeing his boss in distress, revised his overly firm remarks. His expression softened.
“Of course, it was more severe in the east, and the closer you get to the coast, the more frequent the bandits appear.”
This is the same as usual, a normal appearance. Funny enough.
“Just because it’s inland doesn’t mean it’s safe from the bandits of Asereto.”
But no matter how much he tried to reassure Prince Alfonso, he couldn't turn a blind eye to the facts. Sir Manfredi handed him a military map, marking the locations where the search party had encountered the bandits with red Xs.
Indeed, his words were true. Red Xs were more common in the east than in the west, and they were more prevalent along the coast than inland.
But not a single area was free from the red X.
This was definitely different from previous years.
“The peculiar thing is... these people seem to be a self-generated group.”
It was an ominous statement. Prince Alfonso leaned closer, his face pensive.
“What does it mean to be spontaneous?”
Perhaps this will comfort the Prince. Sir Manfredi relayed his conclusion, synthesizing the information his scouts had brought him and the impressions he had gleaned from the bandits he encountered while escorting the daughter of the Viscount of Elba.
“It is not an army professionally trained by a lord or king.”
But Prince Alfonso was not easily persuaded.
“How did you judge that?”
In such a situation, Alfonso couldn't be persuaded without solid evidence. Sir Manfredi sat up straight.
"The weapons and training conditions are all different. In particular, the weapons are not unified at all."
"Hmm."
“The tendency to group together in each village gave further support to the belief that they were a self-organized group.”
“Where do these bandits come from?”
Sir Manfredi looked at Prince Alfonso for a moment and then answered.
“Most of them were born in the islands surrounding Acereto... There were also some people from the Etruscan Kingdom.”
The two vertical lines between Alfonso's eyebrows deepened.
“Among those bandits, are also our people?”
“Mostly from the island, many were sailors.”
Sir Manfredi added apologetically.
“The people of the sea were actually from this kingdom a few decades ago, but then one day they suddenly received a notice demanding taxes from another kingdom, so they have a stronger sense of belonging to the region than loyalty to the country.”
Alfonso nodded reluctantly. The attached books often changed hands depending on national power. It was a likely scenario.
"The training is a mess. Most of them are just like giving a pickaxe to an old man, but occasionally, you'll find someone who makes you think, 'Hey, these guys are really good.'"
“Is there anything that can penetrate the bandits’ horde?”
It's usually easy to identify that multiple units are from the same faction. Uniformed attire is used to display prestige and to help identify comrades during melee combat.
There were times when this wasn't necessary. For example, the countless pagan warriors encountered in the Hejaz Peninsula during the Holy War. Regardless of their tribes or local lords, they were all enemies of the Crusaders. Their race and language made them instantly distinguishable.
There were instances where they actively concealed their affiliation with the same faction. However, their training could not be disguised. All infantry from the ancient Ratan Empire wielded shortswords. Even if they were disguised to conceal their identity, they could not be instantly transformed into pikemen.
“The habits of building a garrison, the shared fighting methods, etc.”
Alfonso narrowed his eyes.
“Only some of the well-trained ones are from certain islands, or speak with a unique dialect.”
With the Prince focused on him, Sir Manfredi swallowed without realizing it. No matter how close they were, Alfonso, who handled military affairs, possessed an unrivaled majesty.
“Features...”
There was a distinct characteristic. Those who were well-trained were usually neatly dressed. This was because they had only recently left their home base.
However, it was difficult to call the fact that a well-trained unit was more well-groomed than a ragtag group a singular characteristic. Well-supplied units are naturally well-trained and well-groomed.
Had Sir Manfredi been on the scene himself, his keen observation might have pinpointed the source of the discomfort. However, this time, he was merely gathering reports from scouts at headquarters.
“...I don’t think there’s anything in particular.”
He continued to submit reports planned at the working level.
“They move around in their own villages or even in regional units.”
Prince Alfonso sighed.
“So, really, they are fishermen who were driven to steal because they were hungry.”
The country was in shambles. The people were supposed to be engaged in their livelihoods, but all those who raised cattle had abandoned them, leaving countless people running wild, plundering other people's cattle.
“Yes... After the Black Death, grain harvests haven’t fully recovered. And the distribution network for things like dried fish has collapsed...”
It was true that exported seafood was unsellable, and imported grain prices were skyrocketing. In such circumstances, it was only natural for fishermen to turn to piracy.
However, this was only a guess. Sir Manfredi hadn't personally witnessed the process by which a fisherman became a pirate.
“I think the current situation is one in which even piracy has become so competitive that it has even expanded inland.”
"It was a reasonable reasoning," Alfonso replied curtly.
“That doesn’t mean we can ignore the security vacuum.”
It was a single word, revealing the Prince's will to subdue, with the preceding "unfortunately" omitted. Fishermen might have been reborn as pirates, but the people who had not yet left their lands must not be turned into refugees. The food harvested from agriculture was the foundation of the nation's strength.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Sir Manfredi bowed his head and continued his report.
“As for security, I don’t think there will be any problems for the time being.”
"How?"
I was glad that there was one thing I could answer with confidence.
“Because everyone was lightly armed, we were able to kill a significant number of them without mobilizing large forces this time, even with just a search party.”
Sir Manfredi added cautiously.
“But...”
Listening to the Prince, something occurred to him. It wasn't a trait unique to well-armed men, but it was strange nonetheless.
“If I had to point out something unique about this recent bandit outbreak, it would be this.”
Sir Manfredi spoke cautiously.
“I’m not an inquisitor, but it seems like there were quite a few heretics.”
“Heresy?”
Prince Alfonso's expression became delicate. Not even a pagan, but a heretic?
“Yes. Do you remember the Apostle of Asereto? Why, right after his sermon at the Basilica of San Ercole, he was arrested by the Inquisitors...?”
The apostle of Aseretto was excommunicated from the Holy See for asserting that Gon of Yesak was a human being and not the son of God.
On the surface, it appeared to be a doctrinal issue, but peeling back the layers, it was a power struggle. A rash attempt by a non-mainstream priest to shift power from the Holy See to a secular monarch was met with a crushing defeat.
When the Apostle of Asereto was declared a heretic and expelled from the church, the Grand Duke of Asereto, who had been supporting him from behind without knowing it, cut off all support and cut off his life.
“Of course I remember. Why him?”
The rest of the doctrines he had advocated were also declared heretical when the Apostle of Asereto, now the excommunicated priest Alejandro, was excommunicated.
For example, there is a teaching that even an ordinary person can become a great saint like Yesak's Gon if he works hard.
“The Yesapists are Yesapists, but there were many who followed the teachings of the Asereto school. Even they said that Gon was just like us...”
“Manfredi.”
Alfonso's voice grew heavy.
“You said that the bandits seemed to be spontaneous.”
“Eh! Yes.”
“It doesn’t seem like an army raised by a specific lord or monarch.”
"If you look at their weapons and training, that's true. It's hard to believe they received systematic training from the central government."
“What if we consider that the person who raised them was not a lord but a religious leader?”
Sir Manfredi opened his mouth without realizing it.
When religious leaders call for arms and march, it can resonate deeply. It begins at the grassroots level, with the people responding spontaneously.
“If that’s true... It’s a really big deal.”
The Prince spoke carefully.
"This is still just speculation. If we make a formal report, things will spiral out of control."
First, the Holy See will dispatch a group of heresy inquisitors and heresy judges.
If the Inquisitors began to roam the area, stirring up trouble, there would be considerable unrest. While they would likely hunt down genuine heretics, it was clear that accusations aimed at eliminating their longtime enemies would also run rampant.
Either way, it was inevitable that the community would become noisy.
The temporal power of the Etruscan kingdom, both local lords and central monarchs, is something that must be avoided at all costs.
"Watch every sign closely. Don't miss a single one. Report everything directly to me. Understood?"
Sir Manfredi responded with a polite salute.
“Yes, Your Highness!”
The rumor that the King's mistress, Countess Contarini, had regained her former beauty spread like wildfire throughout Taranto.
“Beautiful Isabella!”
The old Marquis of Montefeltro, who only yesterday had been discussing the form Isabella's downfall would take, stepped forward and gave a shriek of admiration.
At her appearance, everyone gathered in a buzz.
"Your Highness. A search party dispatched from the Knights Templar has swept the entire country, from the northern border to the central and southern regions."
Sir Manfredi compiled the reports of the scouts he had sent out to Prince Alfonso.
Prince Alfonso, who was leaning back in his study chair and looking out at the snowy winter landscape of San Carlo, turned his gaze towards Sir Manfredi.
“What’s the conclusion?”
“Bandits are running rampant. They don’t differentiate between coastal and inland areas.”
Alfonso groaned softly and touched his forehead. He had flown through battlefields without a single ache and pain, but this pain had set in less than a year after returning to the palace, surrounded by tight security. It was a stab. No matter how you looked at it, this was a symptom of a migraine.
“You’re saying there’s no difference between regions?”
“Not that much.”
Sir Manfredi, seeing his boss in distress, revised his overly firm remarks. His expression softened.
“Of course, it was more severe in the east, and the closer you get to the coast, the more frequent the bandits appear.”
This is the same as usual, a normal appearance. Funny enough.
“Just because it’s inland doesn’t mean it’s safe from the bandits of Asereto.”
But no matter how much he tried to reassure Prince Alfonso, he couldn't turn a blind eye to the facts. Sir Manfredi handed him a military map, marking the locations where the search party had encountered the bandits with red Xs.
Indeed, his words were true. Red Xs were more common in the east than in the west, and they were more prevalent along the coast than inland.
But not a single area was free from the red X.
This was definitely different from previous years.
“The peculiar thing is... these people seem to be a self-generated group.”
It was an ominous statement. Prince Alfonso leaned closer, his face pensive.
“What does it mean to be spontaneous?”
Perhaps this will comfort the Prince. Sir Manfredi relayed his conclusion, synthesizing the information his scouts had brought him and the impressions he had gleaned from the bandits he encountered while escorting the daughter of the Viscount of Elba.
“It is not an army professionally trained by a lord or king.”
But Prince Alfonso was not easily persuaded.
“How did you judge that?”
In such a situation, Alfonso couldn't be persuaded without solid evidence. Sir Manfredi sat up straight.
"The weapons and training conditions are all different. In particular, the weapons are not unified at all."
"Hmm."
“The tendency to group together in each village gave further support to the belief that they were a self-organized group.”
“Where do these bandits come from?”
Sir Manfredi looked at Prince Alfonso for a moment and then answered.
“Most of them were born in the islands surrounding Acereto... There were also some people from the Etruscan Kingdom.”
The two vertical lines between Alfonso's eyebrows deepened.
“Among those bandits, are also our people?”
“Mostly from the island, many were sailors.”
Sir Manfredi added apologetically.
“The people of the sea were actually from this kingdom a few decades ago, but then one day they suddenly received a notice demanding taxes from another kingdom, so they have a stronger sense of belonging to the region than loyalty to the country.”
Alfonso nodded reluctantly. The attached books often changed hands depending on national power. It was a likely scenario.
"The training is a mess. Most of them are just like giving a pickaxe to an old man, but occasionally, you'll find someone who makes you think, 'Hey, these guys are really good.'"
“Is there anything that can penetrate the bandits’ horde?”
It's usually easy to identify that multiple units are from the same faction. Uniformed attire is used to display prestige and to help identify comrades during melee combat.
There were times when this wasn't necessary. For example, the countless pagan warriors encountered in the Hejaz Peninsula during the Holy War. Regardless of their tribes or local lords, they were all enemies of the Crusaders. Their race and language made them instantly distinguishable.
There were instances where they actively concealed their affiliation with the same faction. However, their training could not be disguised. All infantry from the ancient Ratan Empire wielded shortswords. Even if they were disguised to conceal their identity, they could not be instantly transformed into pikemen.
“The habits of building a garrison, the shared fighting methods, etc.”
Alfonso narrowed his eyes.
“Only some of the well-trained ones are from certain islands, or speak with a unique dialect.”
With the Prince focused on him, Sir Manfredi swallowed without realizing it. No matter how close they were, Alfonso, who handled military affairs, possessed an unrivaled majesty.
“Features...”
There was a distinct characteristic. Those who were well-trained were usually neatly dressed. This was because they had only recently left their home base.
However, it was difficult to call the fact that a well-trained unit was more well-groomed than a ragtag group a singular characteristic. Well-supplied units are naturally well-trained and well-groomed.
Had Sir Manfredi been on the scene himself, his keen observation might have pinpointed the source of the discomfort. However, this time, he was merely gathering reports from scouts at headquarters.
“...I don’t think there’s anything in particular.”
He continued to submit reports planned at the working level.
“They move around in their own villages or even in regional units.”
Prince Alfonso sighed.
“So, really, they are fishermen who were driven to steal because they were hungry.”
The country was in shambles. The people were supposed to be engaged in their livelihoods, but all those who raised cattle had abandoned them, leaving countless people running wild, plundering other people's cattle.
“Yes... After the Black Death, grain harvests haven’t fully recovered. And the distribution network for things like dried fish has collapsed...”
It was true that exported seafood was unsellable, and imported grain prices were skyrocketing. In such circumstances, it was only natural for fishermen to turn to piracy.
However, this was only a guess. Sir Manfredi hadn't personally witnessed the process by which a fisherman became a pirate.
“I think the current situation is one in which even piracy has become so competitive that it has even expanded inland.”
"It was a reasonable reasoning," Alfonso replied curtly.
“That doesn’t mean we can ignore the security vacuum.”
It was a single word, revealing the Prince's will to subdue, with the preceding "unfortunately" omitted. Fishermen might have been reborn as pirates, but the people who had not yet left their lands must not be turned into refugees. The food harvested from agriculture was the foundation of the nation's strength.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Sir Manfredi bowed his head and continued his report.
“As for security, I don’t think there will be any problems for the time being.”
"How?"
I was glad that there was one thing I could answer with confidence.
“Because everyone was lightly armed, we were able to kill a significant number of them without mobilizing large forces this time, even with just a search party.”
Sir Manfredi added cautiously.
“But...”
Listening to the Prince, something occurred to him. It wasn't a trait unique to well-armed men, but it was strange nonetheless.
“If I had to point out something unique about this recent bandit outbreak, it would be this.”
Sir Manfredi spoke cautiously.
“I’m not an inquisitor, but it seems like there were quite a few heretics.”
“Heresy?”
Prince Alfonso's expression became delicate. Not even a pagan, but a heretic?
“Yes. Do you remember the Apostle of Asereto? Why, right after his sermon at the Basilica of San Ercole, he was arrested by the Inquisitors...?”
The apostle of Aseretto was excommunicated from the Holy See for asserting that Gon of Yesak was a human being and not the son of God.
On the surface, it appeared to be a doctrinal issue, but peeling back the layers, it was a power struggle. A rash attempt by a non-mainstream priest to shift power from the Holy See to a secular monarch was met with a crushing defeat.
When the Apostle of Asereto was declared a heretic and expelled from the church, the Grand Duke of Asereto, who had been supporting him from behind without knowing it, cut off all support and cut off his life.
“Of course I remember. Why him?”
The rest of the doctrines he had advocated were also declared heretical when the Apostle of Asereto, now the excommunicated priest Alejandro, was excommunicated.
For example, there is a teaching that even an ordinary person can become a great saint like Yesak's Gon if he works hard.
“The Yesapists are Yesapists, but there were many who followed the teachings of the Asereto school. Even they said that Gon was just like us...”
“Manfredi.”
Alfonso's voice grew heavy.
“You said that the bandits seemed to be spontaneous.”
“Eh! Yes.”
“It doesn’t seem like an army raised by a specific lord or monarch.”
"If you look at their weapons and training, that's true. It's hard to believe they received systematic training from the central government."
“What if we consider that the person who raised them was not a lord but a religious leader?”
Sir Manfredi opened his mouth without realizing it.
When religious leaders call for arms and march, it can resonate deeply. It begins at the grassroots level, with the people responding spontaneously.
“If that’s true... It’s a really big deal.”
The Prince spoke carefully.
"This is still just speculation. If we make a formal report, things will spiral out of control."
First, the Holy See will dispatch a group of heresy inquisitors and heresy judges.
If the Inquisitors began to roam the area, stirring up trouble, there would be considerable unrest. While they would likely hunt down genuine heretics, it was clear that accusations aimed at eliminating their longtime enemies would also run rampant.
Either way, it was inevitable that the community would become noisy.
The temporal power of the Etruscan kingdom, both local lords and central monarchs, is something that must be avoided at all costs.
"Watch every sign closely. Don't miss a single one. Report everything directly to me. Understood?"
Sir Manfredi responded with a polite salute.
“Yes, Your Highness!”
***
The rumor that the King's mistress, Countess Contarini, had regained her former beauty spread like wildfire throughout Taranto.
“Beautiful Isabella!”
The old Marquis of Montefeltro, who only yesterday had been discussing the form Isabella's downfall would take, stepped forward and gave a shriek of admiration.
At her appearance, everyone gathered in a buzz.
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