1628 continued: The last few generations have been extremely hard on the Wu. Repeated outbreaks of disease plus a few natural disasters, killing both people and livestock, have devastated the population, ruined much of the agricultural base, and left the survivors demoralized. A hundred years ago some relief might have come from maritime trade, with the Black Ships involved in both the internal trade within Island Asia and also exporting raw materials from the Wu land.
That’s not an option anymore. The arrival of the Romans was a serious blow to the mercantile activities of the Black Ships, albeit one that managed to survive in a shrunken state. The arrival of western Europeans, first the Portuguese and now the Triunes, killed what was left. By 1625, it’s doubtful anyone remaining in the Wu lands even knows how to make a Black Ship.
There are Wu who are skilled artisans, scholars, and shipwrights, but they don’t live in the Great South anymore. By 1625 the Wu lands no longer have a money economy, the gold mines seemingly exhausted, now relying entirely on barter and practically ignored by its richer neighbors. The Wu court, which was looking decidedly threadbare by 1550, has disbanded (dynastic collapse played a role here). Without the court and maritime trade the capital of Xi Wang has collapsed; by 1640 it is a ruin pilfered by nearby villagers in search of building materials. The port of Nan, Wu’s ‘Window of the World’, is simply a ruin.
The Wu lands are now split up amongst collections of farming and fishing villages, with some small scale ranching and mining thrown in on the side, ruled by councils of village elders. Writing survives the general collapse for a short time but apparently disappears by 1650. Culture is that of peasant villages, not grand courts or sophisticated port cities.
Those interested in finer things have decamped, although whether this is a cause or effect (or both) of the general collapse of Wu civilization is debated. Romans offer good terms for Wu emigrants, the last major shipload arriving in New Constantinople in 1628. They are smart and industrious, offering valuable service as artisans, sailors, shipwrights, and scribes. Here in Island Asia there is a need for such things; in the old Wu domains the fanciest products are small fishing boats. Many of the Wu end up in Singapura, which by mid-century is typically called Singapore. Although the Roman settlement predates their arrival, it is the Wu who put the place on the map and most of the grand structures in the Old City were built by the emigrants or their immediate descendants, showing that once removed from the poverty of the Great South, their genius and skill has not dissipated.
The Wu emigrants do not forget their origins, but show little to no interest in those who were left behind. The rest of the world displays a similar indifference. Once the Black Ships ceased to sail, Wu stopped attracting the attention of outsiders. It was off the main shipping lanes and itself produced only bulk items of little value after the decline of the gold mines. Those who stayed behind remember the outside world in oral stories told around the campfire, although those who remained were the ones who interacted the least with the outside world even when the Great South was at its peak. The villages survive, fishing and farming, but as far as the rest of the world is concerned, the Wu are at an end.
Although providing Rhomania in the East a valuable boost in manpower and technical skill, the Imperial heartland doesn’t notice, distracted by more immediately significant events in Europe and the Mediterranean.
While Andreas is making his way through Thrakesia, there is a major riot in Tyre. A German sailor had converted to Orthodoxy and was lodging in an inn in the suburbs. The head of the local Templars [1] with a posse kidnapped said sailor, intending to put him on a ship heading back to the HRE to be handed over to the Inquisition. A mob quickly gathered to stop this, then went on a rampage through the German quarter, although only three Germans were killed and no fires started.
Historians argue over whether anti-German, anti-Catholic, or anti-Templar animus was the main spark. All three are extant in Rhomania. The Templars, although very few in number in Rhomania (a hundred-residing in the various German quarters; more are extant amongst the Nile Germans), are especially distrusted. Dedicated to the cause of the pope, their name also inspires reminiscences of the Crusades. One reason for the extreme antipathy shown towards the Polish King Casimir V (which may have played a key role in the Romans’ willingness to bankroll Russian opposition to him) is that he is often in the company of Templars.
To be fair, Emperor Theodor is not a particular fan of the Templars either. The graduates of their schools do make useful bureaucrats, but he doesn’t trust anyone who would put the Pope over him in their loyalties. It is unlikely the Roman people know about this; it is less likely that they would care.
Pope Paul IV of Rome is aware of Theodor’s antipathy to the Templars but he has good reason to overlook it. Theodor’s diplomacy played a large part in the Roman papacy’s latest triumph, the transfer of Scandinavia’s loyalty from Avignon to Rome. The dissatisfaction towards Avignon felt by the Scandinavians is identical to that felt by the Hungarians. Only Arletian and Iberian concerns and individuals gain any consideration and Scandinavian representation in the College of Cardinals has been completely nonexistent since a single representative died in 1562.
Only Arles, the Bernese League, Spain, Aragon, Mexico, the Kingdom of the Isles, and the Catholics of Sicily (who have been steadily losing ground to the Orthodox) now follow the Avignon See. It is a humiliating reverse.
Meanwhile in Iberia, a rather unexpected firestorm has broken out. Ever since the Roman defeat at Dellys, Sultan Mouley Ismail has been making rumbling noises in the direction of Al-Andalus, the one portion of the Marinid domain outside his grasp. Nothing substantial has come of it, until now.
Before the storm breaks though, the Sultan sends an unexpected but welcome gift to Sicily, the corpse of the great corsair al-Izmirli. The Sultan had recently ordered him strangled because of the corsair’s repeated insubordinations, including attacks on Roman shipping, and a few veiled and not-so-veiled threats against the Sultan’s person. If he wants to invade Al-Andalus, having the Roman navy on the attack is something best avoided and those threats really need to be silenced.
It is fortunate for al-Izmirli that he is long dead before he reaches Sicilian shores. His corpse is torn to pieces by an enraged mob. Considering the amount of suffering he has inflicted on the Christian peoples of the Mediterranean, the Sicilian response is understandable. In the words of a modern historian of the period “There is no way to know how many people he captured and sold into slavery. Estimates vary from fifty to two hundred thousand over the course of his forty-year career, with about one hundred thousand the most common estimate. Considering that, and looking at his miserable and unimpressive end, it is easy to argue that he had it coming.”
In Cordoba Malik Ibrahim II is worried about the looming Marinid threat. Unsure of his ability to resist an African invasion alone, he opens negotiations with the new King of Spain for a mutual defense pact. Before he can get anywhere, a palace coup led by his son Nasr overthrows and kills him.
The coup is the action of a pro-Marinid faction in the higher echelons of the Andalusi hierarchy, who fear Spanish domination more than the Marinids. Many of the members are conservative religious officials who resent the prominence of local Catholics and Jews in the Andalusi government and society. Many have sympathy for the austere religiosity of Hayyatist Islam which dominates North Africa and others are impressed that it was the Marinid Sultan who redeemed the Black Stone from infidel captivity.
King Ferdinand I of Spain is outraged by this and also rather concerned by the pro-Marinid bent of the Andalusi government. If Cordoba sides with Marrakesh, the Marinids have a straight shot at Spain. It could be the Rio Salado all over again. He immediately dispatches men and materials to reinforce the border fortresses and musters the pride of the Spanish fleet, the heavy galleons of Lisbon.
Nasr is young and inexperienced. The Spanish moves are defensive in nature but he panics, calling on Sultan Ismail for immediate aid. Ismail, immediately noticing a golden opportunity, rushes nine thousand Marinid troops to Cartagena, while mustering a much larger force to follow.
All of Spain is outraged when this news arrives from the south. The King immediately makes preparations to call up more troops and ships and writes to the Pope in Avignon, in the letter writing that the security of Spain is incompatible with the existence of an independent Al-Andalus. He gets no argument from the Pope, who after Scandinavia’s defection has absolutely no wish to antagonize his most powerful secular supporter.
Ferdinand can call up an impressive array of men and ships, but money is a different matter. The Pope authorizes the King to tax the Spanish church to fund the war effort, the tax called the cruzada after the old crusading tax on which this grant is modeled. This is vital lubrication for the Spanish war machine. Three weeks after the first Marinid troops land in Iberia, Spain declares war on Al-Andalus.
The White Palace has been following the situation, and Ferdinand approaches the Roman government to request a loan. Andreas gives his approval and the Imperial Bank floats a loan of a million hyperpyra.
While the Spanish envoys are in Constantinople arranging the money transfer, news arrives in the city that cheers the hearts of both Romans and Spaniards. Off the Mandrare River delta on the south coast of Madagascar the largest Triune convoy of Indiamen ever sent from the east back to Europe is intercepted by a squadron of eleven Roman and two Egyptian warships.
The Roman victory is total, with no ships lost (although five lose at least one mast) while capturing three Triune escorts and no less than fourteen Indiamen, fully loaded with the fine wares of East Asia. It is the farthest south a Roman fleet has ever ranged along the coast of Africa. More immediately, the loot is immense. Even the youngest Egyptian midshipman [2] receives 97 hyperpyra [3]. Said Egyptian midshipman is twelve-year-old Leo Kalomeros, born on the docks of Alexandria as Napoleone di Buonaparte.
[1]: These are not the Templar warrior-monks of old. The order ITTL was disbanded in similar circumstances to OTL. However a new order, designed to counter Orthodox reformer-administrator-bishops such as Ioannes of Avlona (see the reign of Nikephoros IV), was established by the Mainz Papacy to bolster the Catholic Church. Thus the new Order of the Templars is TTL’s version of the Jesuits.
[2] The Egyptians follow the Roman practice. Prior to becoming recognized naval officers, candidates must pass both school training and have three years of sea service. An officer candidate undergoing his sea service is called a midshipman. School and sea training can be taken in either order but both must be passed. Some midshipmen never pass the sea exam but remain in naval service as ‘old midshipmen’.
[3] By comparison, a Roman line infantryman’s base pay is 3-4 hyperpyra per month, see ‘Worth of a Hyperpyron’ Interlude.
