"Already planning for your retirement so early? Not about to do some more things when you are still young?" Antonius asked back.
Giovanni shredded his shoulders and replied. "My brother you are not into my trade of mercenaries, it is basically a trade for youngsters like you… that arrow from the other day penetrated right through my muscles into my bones, resulting in severe pain whenever there's a rain or wind blowing, not mentioning that it shall be winter soon, which will make matters worse…"
Giovanni took down the Spaulders of his armour, revealing his shoulder still covered under a thick layer of bandage. "Because of this arrow and this wound, I can no longer wield two blades like I used to do last time… and you know what, my brother."
"What?"
"I am already thirty-four, with no kins, no family, no children. I have finally met a woman of my life in this city, so after this contract, I plan to propose marriage to her father, hopefully he will agree but even if he disagrees I will take her away with me."
"That's very tough of you."
"Aye, that is my style… Antonius, you ought to get a lady by your side as well, take care of you, nourish you. Look at you, messy beard, curved hear, unbathed filled with the smile of a sea-farer."
Antonius scratched his head and replied. "Honestly, I don't know mate, I don't know…"
…
The two of them chit-chattered for the entire night, about life, politics, future, the impending siege, women, all sorts of things. While Francesco and the other boys are left stranded outside the room relishing themselves in the freezing-to-the bones Mediterranean Autumn night-wind, they are found lying asleep in all awkward positions.
Antonius donned in his hood covering the face, then kicked each of them in the thigh. The band of 'marry-man' gradually left the tavern and went for their horses, leaving the chests and the carts with cows behind. On their way out, they came to the courtyard where the soldiers have already begun their routine trainings.
The sons of Nova Roma led under flags flying the colours of purple, red and yellow, divided into different squadrons according to their unit specialties, marching as one. This is what they call a coherence training which the soldiers are supposed to train and learn how to work and co-corporate with other units. The squadrons of calvaries, with their unique spears, halberds and Cuirass armour, guards the flanks of the infantries with their heads held high in pride as their horses whining in misery trying to sustain their weight. While marching and training, they shout out their mottos and slogans that forms their spirit.
"Βασιλεύς Βασιλέων Βασιλεύων Βασιλευόντων!"
"Glory to the Empire! Long Live the Empire! King of Kings Ruling over Rulers!"
Antonius stopped his horse for a while watching the squadrons parade. Francesco and the other boys, not knowing what their boss is up to, also stopped their horses and remained silent. Just as the horses grew impatient and began to graze the grassland beneath their hooves, Antonius sighed, shook his head and commented.
"The nobilities of this country don't deserve this army."
Then he rode out of the camp. Francesco and the other boys looked at each other with their eyes full of confusion, and then followed their admiral.
…
"That army don't deserve our money! They are just a bunch of useless money devouring greedy illiterate beasts!"
Inside the Great hall of Magnaura next to the Hagia Sophia, another conference, or 'headache session' for Constantine is going on. This time it is an emergency meeting regarding the news that the Ottomans are seen gathering a large amount of forces in Kaliopolis, mining for large boulders and building giant war machines like Trebuchets. However, the mégas droungarios and mégas doméstikos , head of the army and navy, are not invited to the conference.
"We need to limit the power of those Genoese! We had given them too much power! We cannot increase their power by giving them any more money!" On the stage, the Sakellarios of the empire, Issac Phrangopoulos, who is in charge of the treasury and known to be a man belonging in the faction of the Mega Doux Loukas Nataras, is making a speech pushing the proposal of limiting the funding to 'some foreigners who hold too much power'.
A range of arguments and squabble soon exploded beneath the stage, as you have half of the people supporting his proposal, while the other half booing and disagreeing loudly. Some sarcastic fellows even jeered at Issac Phrangopoulos sarcastically for 'tearing down the walls of courtyard to let foes inside'. While some others who are more wit-headed, immediately started questioning if the Sakellarios is conducting treason to the empire and the Basileus.
The place soon escalated from a war jumbling with words to a clash of physical strength. The two crowd separated from each other creating a piece of no-man's land in between. They cursed and hissed at each other with the most cultured vulgarities as possible, soon they no longer just toss each other with words, they began tossing pebble stones, mugs, boots, caps, everything they can find. Some well-built courtiers even flung wooden benches and chairs across the hall like catapults, creating a series of disarrays and resulting in the opposite side throwing benches at them in retaliation.
Their Basileus or emperor, Constantine is already used to this kind of Roman parliament customs. Usually this kind of big conference and meetings will always end up like this, one faction clashing against the other. He was taught long time ago of what an emperor should do is to balance the factions preventing an unified voice among the lords and nobles.
In fact, he is not listening at all, he is thinking whether he should have chicken gyros with tzatziki sauce or tuna casserole for dinner tonight.
The Mega Doux Loukas Notaras stepped forward, pulled the Sakellarios out of the stage and yelled an advice without asking the emperor. "Since the gentlemen on both sides cannot agree with each other, we will call for a vote!"