Chapter 38: The Plan to Besiege the Stronghold and Strike at Reinforcements

“My dear mother,” Marco muttered, sitting on the boat as he watched the coastline draw ever nearer, a look of genuine delight blooming across his face.

“How many years have you been away? I haven’t been home in six years,” someone said.

“Bah, I’ve been gone ten!” another boasted.

Listening to the light infantrymen brag, Enrico’s expression remained unchanged. At least, he felt that he was the most aggrieved of all. This year marked his thirtieth birthday, and not only was he single, but he possessed nothing. Among the knights, he couldn’t claim to be penniless—but ‘destitute’ would not be an exaggeration.

The cause lay twelve years ago, in the war between Pisa and Genoa, which had brought disaster to Corsica. To weaken Genoa, the Republic of Pisa seized Corsica from Genoa’s hands.

It was in that war that the old knight Enrico once served met his end. From then on, Enrico became a wandering knight, drifting from place to place.

To call him a wanderer was generous; in truth, he begged wherever he went. Sometimes he resorted to robbery, sometimes hired himself out as a mercenary. After leaving the clan society, Enrico truly had no place to go, nor anyone willing to take him in.

Until he found Leo.

Just as Enrico’s thoughts reached this point, the ship glided into the dock.

As they entered the dock, the workers on shore came forward, ready to unload the cargo. The Pisa sailors at the bow unleashed a torrent of curses at the Corsicans, showing not the slightest restraint.

“Out of the way! Out of the way! This is a troop transport!”

With the invective came the retreat of the Corsicans.

Once the ship was moored, the workers stood in silence, watching as the soldiers disembarked. Enrico and the others kept quiet, even though the workers beside them were their compatriots.

“Boss, boss.”

Marco stumbled as he stepped off the boat, needing several tries before he managed to catch up to Enrico.

Enrico turned, looking at Marco with a hint of confusion in his eyes.

“Where are we, boss? I’ve never been to this place before.”

Marco’s straightforward question triggered raucous laughter among the soldiers behind them.

“Of course you wouldn’t know, you country bumpkin!”

“Why don’t you go back and think it over?”

“Marco, don’t embarrass yourself.”

Enrico shook his head, helpless. Others might not know where they were, but he certainly did.

“This is Bonifacio, the largest fortress on all of Corsica,” Enrico said. “I once received my knightly training here.”

Marco, unabashed, nodded at Enrico’s explanation.

Enrico then turned to the sixty soldiers he had brought with him. Leo had given them a simple mission: recruit six hundred new men, then return to join the main force.

The reason for sending these soldiers home was straightforward: they were all natives of Corsica.

“Comrades, remember,” Enrico addressed the soldiers, “each of you must bring ten men back! Don’t go alone—bring as many as you can. Understood?”

They nodded eagerly, replying in loud voices.

“Understood!”

“Good, then let’s set out! Marco, you come with me.”

Marco, just about to leave, stopped in his tracks when Enrico called him, turning back.

“Boss, what is it?” Marco asked, still sounding simple-minded.

Enrico curled his lip. “Didn’t you say your home is in the northern mountains? I’ll go with you.”

Together?

Marco was taken aback, but after a moment, he nodded. “Alright, I was just about to head there.”

...

“Your militia numbers are truly astonishing,” Leo said, leafing through the registry of the Republic of Pisa in the city hall, unable to hide a trace of amazement.

Though these maritime republics were only beginning to develop, they were already showing remarkable potential. For example, Pisa could muster over a thousand soldiers at once for battle.

Though these troops served for limited terms and their fighting ability was debatable, the Republic of Pisa demonstrated impressive mobilization.

Giovanni lounged with his legs crossed, radiating a carefree air. Alberto sat rigidly upright, as though terrified of making a single mistake.

“How many troops does the Duchy of Tuscany have?” Leo asked Alberto. “Give me a concrete number.”

“We can summon a little over two hundred knights, plus militia from various regions,” Alberto replied.

As expected, Leo was distinctly displeased by this answer.

Militia were often the invisible men of war. Even if their fighting power was lacking, they should not be dismissed as mere numbers.

But above all, comparison breeds resentment.

Pisa’s records were thorough; Tuscany’s seemed slapdash.

“By the way, how are your relations with the people of Lucca?” Leo suddenly asked Giovanni.

Giovanni, listening nearby, responded immediately.

“Not good. They always steal our business.”

...

“That will do,” Leo said, his fingers tapping crisply on the table, the sound echoing in everyone’s ears. Even Matilda grew attentive, listening closely to Leo’s plan.

“In Tuscany, summon every soldier you can muster,” Leo said. “We will besiege Lucca.”

Leo’s bold proposal made Alberto draw a deep breath. He could not fathom how Leo dared such a move.

He spoke at once. “Leo, isn’t this a bit too radical?”

“Radical? We can’t afford to lose,” Leo replied, frowning at Alberto’s attitude.

Alberto’s thinking was strictly military; he barely considered political factors.

But the truth was, Leo could not afford to lose.

If one examined Leo’s actions, his ultimate goal was clear: to swiftly destroy the Lorraine army.

As the only force currently able to provide military support to the Papacy, the Duke of Lorraine’s continued existence meant the Papacy retained its armed power. As long as the Papacy held military might, Leo would find it difficult to negotiate.

But medieval warfare did not favor open battles.

Rather than all-or-nothing clashes, medieval armies preferred sieges and castle defenses.

Thus, often the front lines stagnated, as if constipated—years of fighting with little change.

For the dominant side, this was advantageous: drag it out, and the enemy would eventually perish.

Leo knew this well, and so he was determined not to drag things out.

“We must besiege Lucca and draw the enemy in. Once we annihilate them, we will become the Papacy’s sole pillar of military strength. Then, the Papacy’s campaign against Capua will necessarily rely on us.”

When Leo laid out his plan, not only Alberto but all the others looked on in amazement.

They could not understand why Leo was so certain of Lucca’s importance to the Papacy. It seemed, as Leo claimed, that besieging Lucca would automatically prompt the Papacy to send aid.

“Leo, why would the Papacy support Lucca?” Alberto asked.

“Because I know something,” Leo said, wearing a look of effortless confidence, as though everything fell within his calculations.

Alberto frowned, awaiting Leo’s answer.

“Because the Bishop of Lucca is the Pope’s nephew.”