36. Approaches

  Gocelin was not idle, through the 10th of March he had already received his 4000 glaives, a mixture of buying them from local sources, as well as Bari and the Ragusans, it rendered him left with only 29,000 solidi, the Bari war machine was cranking out bolt shooters at an astonishing rate, bolts likewise, his fleet returned with 500 bolt shooters for his personal use. As well as 1500 Greek speaking mercenaries who had travelled to Bari to get hired. As it turned out, the deep pockets of the central government had people travelling there for employment. He now had 1000 bolt shooters and roughly 5000 infantry and 3000 men operating the bolt shooters (so 1000 bolt shooters), he was left with a minuscule 14,000 solidi from which to start his campaign. He marched on Trani and the town refused to surrender, instead shooting their own missiles, Gocelin sniped the defenders off the walls before waiting. The defenders were confident for some reason, and Gocelin did not understand why, taunts flew at him.

  “You devils will never conquer Trani!”

  Gocelin waited out for a siege, not intending to throw away his men. He dug out a camp and barricaded it, while sitting outside the walls of Trani.

  It would not be until March 11th that he realised what had happened, Count Pietro had organised 1000 levies to reinforce the town, and 1000 papal cavalry likewise reinforced the town.

  “Damn it they’re stalling me!”

  “Perhaps an assault earlier would have been wiser, there’s no way we could have known this,” Thorphinius said, “don’t beat yourself up, besides the soldiers need a new more drills with the new weapons.”

  “I know, but this is infuriating.”

  In Bari itself, the state having 192,000 solidi had spent 92,000 solidi on ramping up bolt shooters and buying the materials for them, more mercenaries representatives came to the city, hearing of the profit to be made and the demand that was had.

  “I am from the Eastern Romans, but I know some men who are willing to fight for you for a price,” a cunning Greek said.

  “I understand your offer,” Demetra said, “that is for our field commanders to decide.”

  “Of course, of course,” the mercenary leader said, a little bit confused but feigning knowledge.

  4710 litrai of indigo were sold for 96,000 solidi, with cloves likewise being bought at 1570 litrai for 14,000 solidi, but it would be cardamon that was bought at fantastic quantities, the Bari market sold 6280 litrai of cardamon selling 48,000 solidi worth; all in all 158,000 solidi more into the treasury leaving the treasury with roughly 258,000. Immediately spending the 8000 solidi on more processing workers as Bari needed, 3000 processing workers to keep up with the demand of the foreign merchants who kept bidding and bidding; the other towns in the Republic had modest revenues for the same period. Employment was high, spending was high, food availability high and the city was effectively a fortress, with the new mercenary agencies the town had grown to 13,500, some people intending to stay, and some just there for the money they could smell.

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  By the 11th Zethos had arrived at Gravina in Puglia, his troops lining up the bolt shooters, but copying the problems that Gocelin had up north the town refused to capitulate even with a demonstration of firepower. Zethos ordered quiet, they would sit in silence.

  “Bring the fucking ladders!” Lucanus shouted, “we rush them when they are not looking!”

  Norman cavalry armed with a cross and full of cheers for their own and jeers for Zethos rode into the settlement from the side.

  “Damn…” Zethos said.

  Approximately 1000 men had blatantly wandered straight into the garrison to defend the walls, intending to defend the settlement and halt Zethos’s marching. Zethos made a fortified camp, feigning that he would wait, he prepared his troops, the night time creeping upon them as he dimmed the lights in his camp and his men prepare, the bolt shooters were guarded by 1000 mace-men while the other 3000 crept on the walls. The bolt shooters began shooting only when a Norman attempted to make a noise, Aspar directing fire at various defenders who attempted to stop the attack.

  “Attack!” A Norman cried.

  Despite this, some of the glaive-men had established a beach-head and were making space for the others, Norman levies attempting to stop them, but getting cut up.

  “Don’t fire at your own!” Aspar shouted at his men, “make sure to pick towers that don’t have our men!”

  “Yes sir.”

  Lucanus had gone head first into the fighting.

  “For Western Rome! For the Republic!” He shouted, “we have the walls!”

  As more Normans attempted to stop them, they were hacked to pieces, Lucanus and some others quickly went down a bunch of stairs from one of the towers, the glaive-men joined by some mace-men before the gates cranked open. Mace-men rushed in, smashing in, as the Normans attempted to rush and defend the town, but Lucanus had stormed the town successfully, with 3000 men converging on the open gates. In the confusion of the night, the Norman army began shouting their capitulations. In total 20 of the besiegers had died, mostly in the hand to hand fighting in the chaos. The bolt shooters moved into the town, and the soldiers shuffled in, some 300 Normans were dead, and the rest were disarmed. In a moment’s notice, a man attempted to assassinate Zethos but was cut by Lucanus who promptly looked grimly into the dark.

  “Thrown down your weapons! I repeat throw down your weapons!”

  Some soldiers shuffled out of the town, and the town was over the course of the night occupied by Zethos.

  By the 12th of March, Gocelin noticed yet another force entering the city of Trani, 1000 Normans from the rear, the reality of the situation was that Gocelin was openly being taunted.

  “There is now, no possibly way I can take the town without a bloodbath. Request more bolt shooters and men! Get the sailors to do so!” He shouted at an officer.

  The man did as much running to the fleet and explaining the predicament. The fleet departed, and Gocelin looked at the men openly taunting him, and the army that was day by day getting more powerful.

  “Die you filthy Pagan!” A man shouted from the walls.

  “Shoot that fucker, one shot is enough,” Gocelin said with a curse.

  A bolt surgically hit the man, and Thorphinius shouted. The soldiers hid behind the walls, Gocelin camping outside the city, a grim look as he decided on his next course of action. Building a camp with ditches and stakes, he looked with a calculating face at the threat.

  “Another Casalnuovo,” Thorphinius said, “I hope you understand what is happening.”

  “I understand perfectly fine,” Gocelin said, “soldiers. Pray to the deity you believe in. We are going to war.”

  And they did.