Hi guys, there may not be a chapter tomorrow. I have pain in the index finger of my left hand. It seems I've been writing a lot, so I may take the day off depending on my schedule, since I also have to go to mediation for a labor issue involving someone who hired me to help them present their case for wrongful termination.
-----------------------------
If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
-------------------------------
Anno Domini 827,August-1
Juggling. That was exactly what I was doing, day after day, while my pockets bled as I tried to put Crete back on its feet. Everything demanded money, time, and hands I simply did not have in sufficient numbers.
I sent captains to travel through cities in Anatolia and Greece in search of orphans, recruiting them for work. There was far too much to do and far too few people available. Even after organizing the peasants into cooperative groups—which noticeably increased the cultivated surface compared to isolated family labor—large portions of the island's fertile land remained untouched.
Still, I began to notice a clear advantage. Thanks to the sarakenoi and the island's climate, Crete possessed valuable plants that could be sold at very high prices within the Empire. Farther north, the climate made it impossible to grow products such as sugar or cotton, but here the conditions were ideal. Properly processed, those crops could be turned directly into gold.
The problem was the present. Paying wages without having real income was hitting me hard. For the moment, the only money coming in came from ships that had begun stopping at the island to resupply. We sold river water in barrels—only if it was fresh—and food meant for long voyages: salted meat, salted fish, and pickled vegetables, products that could be preserved without any form of refrigeration.
Everything changed when I decided to focus on studying Arabic. At that time it was the language of science, and most important advances were written in it. It took me months to learn to read it fluently enough to understand books, even with the help of some sarakenoi prisoners who knew how to read and write. The alphabet felt alien to me and I could not find an intuitive way to grasp it, but I persisted until I succeeded.
Thanks to that, I gained full access to the emir's library. It contained a vast number of carefully catalogued texts describing advances in engineering, irrigation systems, tools, and techniques developed across much of the Abbasid world. The center of learning in Baghdad was, without doubt, the most important in the region, and its texts reached even this far.
As I began translating many of those books into Greek, I started drawing valuable ideas from them. Among them were translated Chinese texts explaining how to make paper using plant fibers. In my first attempts I discovered that paper made from wood had a yellowish color that made it unattractive and reduced its value. For that reason, I decided to switch entirely to cotton. It was more expensive, but it produced a white paper, similar to papyrus without actually being it, and the best way to convince someone to abandon what they use is to offer something equal—or better.
I personally visited the papyrus workers and set them to building a workshop following the instructions from the texts I had translated. The process was slow and still rudimentary. My intention was to bring water through an aqueduct from the river at Knossos, since the irrigation canal water was too dirty and could ruin the cellulose fibers. But building an aqueduct with the proper gradient required engineers I did not have available.
What eight centuries earlier had been a common skill was now rare and valuable knowledge, difficult to find and, for the moment, beyond my reach. There was no choice but to use well water, which greatly complicated the work, since large pools had to be filled so the fibers could settle and form sheets using specialized frames.
Even so, it did not take long before the craftsmen managed to produce several usable sheets. Meanwhile, I devoted myself to manufacturing movable iron pieces for the entire Greek alphabet.
I had considered printing images, but given the problem of iconoclasm, I preferred not to involve myself in a religious war being fought in the capital. Instead, I began preparing everything to print Bibles. It was the book that would sell the most: every church had one, and many would want more for the study of the Holy Scriptures.
Thus, I spent my days reading the text in Greek and composing page after page with the movable pieces, forming the molds that I then placed in the press.
The system was built to perfection. The carpenters had constructed a solid press, capable of covering the pages with ink while applying uniform pressure across the entire surface. It was not a single machine. I ordered more than fifteen presses to be made, because I had the resources on hand and because even the most complex parts could be produced without difficulty thanks to my experienced smiths.
One of the warehouses near the port was converted into the print shop. There the first real problem with my plan emerged. I wanted to keep the existence of the press hidden for as long as possible. Books were expensive, and if a technology capable of producing them in a fraction of the time—what once took months, when every copy had to be written by hand—were discovered, the Church would do everything in its power to seize the method. Any influential noble at the imperial court would do the same. This was, quite literally, printing money.
I could not trust the Greeks. A handful of coins would be enough for someone to break the secret and destroy the monopoly that could finally refill my exhausted coffers.
So I turned my attention to the Varangians. There were many who were not warriors and preferred to work the land, although most of the newcomers were fearless young men, very different from what I needed. Even so, the idea was to put Varangians to work in the print shop, make them swear silence, pay them well, and ask no further questions. From among them I would select a few to teach Greek—just enough to modify the letter molds and prepare the pages.
In that way, only a small group would know the truth, and among them, even fewer would be able to read and write Greek. That barrier added an extra layer of security that no other system could offer.
Covering the letter molds with an even layer of ink, making sure it did not pool excessively, I placed the sheet on top and pulled the lever. I applied pressure for a few seconds and, when I lifted it, I had before me the first finished page of the Bible. What would have taken a scribe several minutes—if not longer—had been done in an instant.
As much as I would have liked to spend the entire day working, I soon ran into an obvious limitation: paper. Mass production had only just begun. Hundreds of sheets were made each day, but they still had to dry and harden, a slow process. There were not enough to complete even a single Bible immediately. So, while the workers learned the process and gained experience, I had time to attend to other matters.
With that in mind, I went out to inspect the state of the city's construction. Heraklion had to change—and drastically. It was still a city with a semi-Roman, medieval structure. Some sectors preserved the old Roman grid layout, but the rest was chaos: buildings erected without order, narrow streets, dead ends, and enormous mobility problems. Sanitation was nonexistent. People threw waste out of their windows or, at best, straight into the sea.
That could not continue. I already had several architects working on a new urban plan: a proper harbor, shipyards, a city with a sewer system, wide market districts, and large storage areas. Everything had to be ready for the day when merchants would not merely stop to resupply, but would do business on the island.
As the afternoon went on, I walked through the harbor to check on the progress. Some areas were already finished when I noticed something that made me stop. On the horizon, a fleet of drakkars was approaching. It was, without a doubt, the largest I had seen up to that point.
"Damn… this must have set off a full alert in Constantinople," I murmured as I watched the hundreds of ships drawing closer.
I went on with what I was doing, and when the ships finally arrived, large groups of Varangians began to disembark. This time they were not only young warriors. There were adults, elders, and children. Entire families. They stepped down from the drakkars and stood in silence, staring at the sea.
Then Håkon's drakkar appeared. He soon disembarked, while his sailors began unloading large quantities of crates, one after another, onto the pier.
"I see you're already here to receive us—and just in time," Håkon said with a broad smile as he stepped down from the drakkar.
"Yes, all good… I see many followed you this time," I replied, observing the enormous number of Varangian ships anchored in the harbor.
"That's right. In Svearike and Götaland I picked up a good portion of those leaving the lands they worked. Some stayed behind to finish the harvest and will come on the next trip. Many of those who arrived now are complete families. Two entire settlements have moved, though their jarls didn't come this time. They'll arrive on the next voyage, so you can be prepared," Håkon explained.
"Excellent. Do you have any idea how many they are?" I asked as I watched more people continue to disembark.
"Seven thousand… maybe more," he replied. "Although many will return. The river has become more dangerous: there are more Varangians moving through the area now, and larger armed groups are needed. Many are being drawn by the riches of Miklagarðr and also by fertile lands. The rumor that there is good land in the south is spreading… partly my fault. When talking to so many jarls to sell armor and weapons, I repeated what you told me. So more people are traveling south. Varangians may start arriving who are not with me, and I can't guarantee they'll all respect your laws as we agreed. Some drakkars were even following us, probably to see where those lands were," he added seriously.
"As long as an armed invasion doesn't arrive, I think we can send anyone who causes trouble back to the sea. We have enough forces to defend the island right now, so don't worry," I replied with a calm smile.
"I'm glad to hear that. By the way, I sold your loot well… the one from the island's former owners. And your swords sold wonderfully. Your steel is already highly valued in the north. More and more warriors are seeking your armor and weapons. Some even talked about coming in person to have their gear repaired by you, so I hope you have plenty of lists to sell, because I have quite a few pending orders this time," Håkon said, clasping his hands with evident satisfaction.
"We have armor, though not as much as before. I've been producing other things, but there is new equipment. I may have to expand the forge and double its size to increase production," I replied.
"Oh, that would be excellent. I mean it—every week that passes your armor becomes more popular for its ability to withstand damage," Håkon added, giving me a pat on the shoulder.
"Good… listen, I was wondering if some of these Varangians, instead of land, might prefer a well-paid job. I need people to fill certain positions," I said, watching as Håkon turned halfway around to greet his son.
"That depends on the kind of work. Many here just want land to work, nothing more," he replied.
"I have several dromons that have just returned from repairs, but I don't have enough crews to operate them," I said. "I was wondering if anyone would want to work as maritime guards: watching over trade and dealing with pirates when necessary."
"There won't be any shortage of people. It's a good job," Håkon replied, nodding. "How many do you need?"
"There are twenty ships. I need one hundred and fifty men for each, so about three thousand in total. They'll be in charge of guarding the seas. I'll pay them in food and four silver coins. If I don't have patrols at sea, the emperor could become furious and take everything from me," I answered frankly.
"Alright. I'll ask among the newcomers," Håkon said. "Does that include armor, or do they have to provide their own?"
"I'll provide it, but for now it will be basic equipment. I'll improve the armament later. The good armor I have is for sale," I replied calmly. "Oh, and for any young men interested: if they learn to read and write Greek, I'll pay high wages for some important jobs. I have someone who can teach them the basics."
"I'll ask," Håkon said. "Your share of the profits is there. They're already unloading it. I made a great profit selling jewelry and silk, so you'll be pleased."
He said this as he walked toward the growing group of Varangians gathering in the harbor, just as more ships began to dock and their people to disembark.
-----------------------------
If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
-------------------------------