Isaac's fleet stayed in Negroponte for three days.
During that time, 40 new guards were recruited from nearby villages, and the paddle-sail warships, which had lost their power, were sold to a Venetian private shipowner for 2,000 ducats.
With a little repair, he could sell them for 3,000 ducats.
The Ottoman sailors who had been reduced to slavery were sold to local nobles, where they would work in the fields until they died or be sold to new owners.
There were no naval cannons available locally, so the purchase of cannons would have to be postponed.
Isaac spent another 500 ducats to recruit crew members for the three warships, repair damage, and purchase supplies.
Currently, Isaac still has over 2,000 Ducat gold coins.
Three days later, at dawn, the fleet set sail.
Negroponte was close to Athens, and by noon, the Acropolis of Athens was already in sight.
The fleet raised the Byzantine flag, and before long, a small boat came to meet them.
Isaac stepped onto the deck, and the harbor was getting closer and closer.
The crowd on the shore cheered, clearly aware of the arrival of supplies.
The leader was dressed in a purple robe, with a long sword at his waist, bushy eyebrows, and a tall, sturdy build.
Constantine Palaiologos, the future Emperor of the Byzantine Empire and the last emperor of Rome.
The ship docked.
Isaac was the first to jump off the ship and strode toward his father, whom he had not seen in a long time.
"Greetings, noble Lord of Mistras and Despot of Morea,"
"We have been ordered by His Majesty to escort provisions, military equipment, and gunpowder to assist you. During the voyage, our ships encountered an Ottoman squadron, sinking one and forcing two to surrender. This is the Ottoman military flag we captured!"
Isaac took the Ottoman military flag from his attendant and threw it at his feet.
Everyone cheered, and a look of satisfaction appeared on Constantine's stern face.
"Look, it's the Balearic prince! It's the fleet of the Roman Empire!"
Five ships lined up in a row, their black gun barrels pointed at the crowd on the shore.
The crowd erupted in even louder cheers, and some people unconsciously ducked their heads.
"All those who have rendered meritorious service will be rewarded. Today, there will be a grand banquet for all the soldiers!"
Constantine ordered.
At the banquet, Isaac stood up after a moment and left for Constantine's camp.
His father had been waiting there for a long time.
Now Isaac had a chance to take a good look at this legendary last emperor.
Constantine looked very much like his brother John, but he was livelier and more energetic.
He was handsome and decisive.
His big black eyes were bright and sharp, his chin was covered with a thick beard, and his skin was a healthy bronze color, which contrasted sharply with the pallor of the other members of the Palaiologos family.
At this moment, Constantine was full of ambition. After years of building up his fiefdoms in Morea and Corinth, he had assembled an army of 5,000 men, coordinating with the Varna Crusaders to the north. They had successively captured Lepanto and Athens, forcing the family of the Athenian Duchy to submit, and their forces had advanced as far as the Theban region.
This was the largest military operation of the late Byzantine period, aimed at taking advantage of the Ottoman Empire's internal and external crises to open a route from the Peloponnese Peninsula to Constantinople, thereby altering the capital's isolated position on the sea.
The military campaign progressed smoothly, advancing as far as the Thessaloniki region.
If the Crusaders at Varna had been victorious or maintained a stalemate, Constantine might have succeeded.
But history does not allow for "ifs." News of the complete annihilation of the Crusaders had already reached Constantine's army.
Some local nobles who had just surrendered began to stir, paying lip service to Constantine while harboring treasonous intentions.
The good news brought by his son Isaac deterred some of the fence-sitters.
Some landlords and wealthy gentry who had previously been reluctant to provide military supplies began to "open their purses generously."
Constantine looked at his twelve-year-old son with satisfaction.
Not bad, not bad. He took the initiative to leave the capital, sold his property, and joined the army.
His eyes were sharp, his expression calm, and his every move was full of confidence.
Was this really the same son who used to be timid and addicted to books?
Perhaps it was the increasingly dire situation of the empire that had moved him.
Constantine thought to himself.
"The current situation on the battlefield is relatively clear. Your uncle Thomas is overseeing the battle at the front, and Thebes will fall soon."
Constantine's fingers traced the military map from south to north, lingering over the city of Thessalonica.
Thessalonica was once one of the empire's major cities. During the Ottoman Interregnum, it was briefly recaptured by the empire.
Later, the emperor was unable to raise enough troops to resist the Ottomans' relentless attacks and sold it to the Venetians.
As it turned out, the strategic disadvantage was too great for anyone to overcome.
The Venetians were also unable to withstand the Ottoman advance and handed over the city completely to the Ottomans in 1430.
If this commercial hub and military stronghold could be recaptured, the Byzantine Empire's extremely unfavorable strategic position would be partially improved, and the newly occupied territories would no longer be defenseless.
"Isaac, what do you think?"
"Father, Thessalonica cannot be taken."
Isaac didn't even hesitate before speaking.
"Oh? Why? Many in the army are advising me to take advantage of the Ottoman main forces not yet having returned to defend the city and seize it in one fell swoop."
Constantine remained composed.
Isaac cleared his throat.
"Thessalonica has strong defenses and is garrisoned by Ottoman regular troops. Even if we manage to capture it, we will suffer heavy losses. Once the Ottoman main forces withdraw, how will we hold them off?"
"The Thessalonica region has a large population, with Orthodox Christians in the majority. We can mobilize the people and form new troops..."
"You should abandon that idea, Father."
Isa cut off his father's fantasy without hesitation.
"It's true that the local people miss their homeland, but I doubt anyone would be willing to take up arms against the Ottomans."
"As far as I know, the Ottomans have a fairly tolerant policy toward Orthodox Christians and have not engaged in large-scale oppression, so the people's resistance is not very strong."
Isaac paused before adding,
"Their lives may even be better than before."
Constantine's face turned red and then pale.
There was no shame in that. It was the end of the dynasty, with frequent wars, land consolidation, and heavy taxes.
The empire had also been ravaged by civil wars, with neither side recognizing the other, so military expenses could not be shared.
This had caused great suffering for the people of the empire.
The Ottomans' enlightened ethnic and religious policies allowed them to quickly integrate newly conquered lands, rolling a snowball that grew larger and larger.
Wow, even more Roman than the Romans.
"What do you think we should do?"
Finally, he asked!
On the way here, Isaac had been thinking about this issue and had come up with a rough plan.
He was just afraid that Constantine was stubborn and wouldn't listen to good advice.
"Father, I have four main plans."
Isaac stood up.
"First, after Uncle Thomas captures Thebes, halt the advance, rest and regroup, and pacify the people."
"Second, forcibly relocate the people, grain, and money from Athens and Thebes to Corinth and Moriah, with the relocation costs covered by confiscated funds, while also requiring merchants to contribute money and labor."
"Third, mobilize laborers to quarry stone locally and repair the six-mile-long wall at the Isthmus of Corinth, while purchasing firearms to strengthen defenses;"
"Fourth, contact the Venetians and Genoese to see if they are willing to purchase the ports in the newly occupied territories."
This was preparation to completely abandon the newly occupied areas, fortify the defenses, and wait for the enemy to come to them.
However, giving up all the gains of several months required tremendous courage, and there would certainly be considerable internal and external resistance.
Constantine remained silent for a long time.
"Tomorrow, you will accompany me north. I will arrange for the fleet and artillery, and you should bring your guards with you."
Constantine waved his hand.
Alas! He still couldn't make up his mind. Isaac had no choice but to agree and left the camp.
This was to be expected.
Judging from the evaluation of Constantine XI by later historians, he was an excellent knight, a determined commander, a competent politician, and a poor diplomat.
He had a superficial understanding of the world situation and the forces at play, and he always liked to take things for granted, which is a common flaw of idealists.
Historically, Constantine XI's rule in Athens and Thebes was always unstable, and the local population was not well utilized.
It was not until the Ottomans recovered and launched a large-scale expedition to punish him that Constantine decided to abandon the two places and defend the six-mile-long Great Wall.
The local forces in Thebes and Athens immediately surrendered to the Sultan and became the Ottoman vanguard in the attack on the wall.
He couldn't just sit back and let this happen. He had to do something!
Isaac summoned his chief steward, Andrew, and rushed to the slave market in Athens.
The Christian attitude toward slavery had always been ambiguous. The church opposed selling fellow Christians into slavery, but there was nothing it could do about pagan slaves.
At that time, there were many Muslim slaves in the market, including men, women, and children. Most of them were Ottoman civilians who had migrated in recent years, but some were captured warriors.
Isaac's target was them.
It was easy to distinguish between warriors and civilians. The warriors' eyes were full of contempt, as if mocking the stupidity of the pagans. They believed that the Sultan would come to their rescue soon.
The civilians, on the other hand, were dragging their families behind them, their eyes blank and their expressions panicked.
Slaves were good laborers and would not be killed indiscriminately, but they were worried about being separated from their families.
Young, strong male slaves were in high demand, and beautiful female slaves were even more sought after.
The elderly and children were discarded like old shoes, and the young men and women who were bought often begged their masters to buy their parents and children as well, but most of the time, all they got was the slave master's whip.
The tragedy of families being torn apart and homes destroyed was playing out everywhere.
Isaac walked slowly, stopping from time to time to get out of the cart and look at slaves who looked good. He would pull their teeth, take off their clothes, and check for hidden illnesses and physical strength.
He wasn't very satisfied.
At that moment, a dispute broke out among the crowd.
A father who didn't want to be separated from his wife and daughters broke free from his wooden shackles and knocked over the slave trader who was trying to drag them away.
"You bastard!" The merchant covered his bleeding eyes, and the guards surrounded the man.
"Kill him!" the merchant shouted in Latin.
His daughter in his arms closed her eyes in fear.
Isaac stepped forward.
He stood between the guards and the man.
The guards recognized the insignia on Isaac's clothes, lowered their guns, and saluted.
"Greetings, young prince. I am Leo, captain of the third squad of the Athenian Security Corps. I am at your command!"
The Latin merchant also recognized Isaac and stepped forward to tell his story.
"Your Highness, this man must be a spy. He deserves to die!"
"I want his entire family."
The merchant immediately feigned distress.
"I'm afraid that's not possible, Your Highness. Those two women are very precious..."
Isaac turned his head, and the man held the broken wooden collar, shielding his wife and daughter behind him, ready to fight to the death.
His wife and daughter were beautiful, and the merchant had likely bought them as gifts for the nobility.
"How much are they worth?"
The merchant's face lit up with joy, his small eyes squinting together, and the blood from his eyes instantly dried up.
"Your Highness wants them, so they should be given to you, but..."
"How much?"
"Not much, not much... The two women together are 100 ducats, and I'll give the man to you as well..."
Isaac threw away a money bag.
His movements were graceful, but his heart was bleeding.
The crowd dispersed, and Isaac took the family of three back to his residence, where he had them bathe, change their clothes, and eat a hearty meal.
After they had settled in, Isaac received them.
The man remained wary, keeping his wife and daughter behind him.
Seeing him, Isaac was furious.
"Hello, 100 ducats."
Isaac spoke in stiff Turkish.
The man froze, not understanding what he meant.
"Kafir, what do you want?"
"If you call me that insulting word again, I'll sell your wife to a brothel."
The man immediately became obedient.
"You used to be a soldier, right?"
Isa slowly sipped his wine and concluded.
"Sir, I am a deserter."
As expected, the man had military experience. The way he held the wooden shackles was extremely standard, which could only have come from the Ottoman regular army.
"Why did you desert?"
"The Bey ordered us to retreat, but we weren't allowed to take our families with us."
Clearly, his family was this deserter's Achilles' heel.
Isaac made up his mind.
"I'm going to set you free."
Isaac clapped his hands, and the attendant at his side untied the wooden collar.
"What do you need me to do?" The man was a little surprised.
"I'll give you 1,500 ducats. Go recruit the deserters and bandits scattered in the countryside, raise the Ottoman flag, rob Christian villages and caravans, and drive them south."
The man was taken aback and his eyes shifted.
"Your wife and daughter will stay here with me. They will convert to Orthodox Christianity, and there will be a place for your daughter in the church school in Athens."
"How can I be sure you're telling the truth?"
"You can refuse, but I will keep you here and send your wife and daughter to the beds of various nobles."
The man glared fiercely at Isaac, who looked back at him indifferently.
"Father..." his daughter stammered.
The man's fierce gaze suddenly filled with despair.
"Aren't you worried that I'll flee with the money?"
"You've already fled once. The Ottomans won't tolerate you."
"I can't recruit a large army on my own."
"I'll make arrangements."
At the same time, Chief Steward Andre returned to his residence with 50 slaves he had purchased from the slave market.
Some were escaped slaves, some were wanted criminals, and some had similar experiences to the man.
They would change their identities and become bandits, driving the civilians around Athens southward to preserve more vitality for the empire.
"What is your name?"
"Ibrahim, Your Highness." The man knelt on one knee, and his wife and daughters knelt alongside him.
"Very well, Ibrahim, may you succeed."
Isaac raised his wine cup, the liquid as red as blood.