Cesare Borgia’s decision was, as Lorenzo de’ Medici had explained, a choice made under duress. The only way he could survive while retaining even a shred of his power was to join the ‘Italian unification movement.’
“Hmph. If only those bastards from France and Spain had done their jobs properly…”
Cesare Borgia sighed, cursing France and Spain under his breath.
***
Had France and Spain managed to defeat the Empire and Florence, he never would have had to turn his coat. In fact, even if they had managed to drag the conflict into a long war of attrition, it wouldn’t have been bad for him. It would have given him the chance to sell his allegiance at a much higher price. But after charging in with great vigor, France and Spain had suffered a crushing defeat and were now hiding in their dens, merely watching the situation unfold.
They had managed to land a single blow against the Imperial Navy at the Battle of Corsica, but that was the end of it. The enraged Imperial Navy had then gone on a rampage, hunting down and annihilating the French and Spanish warships that had taken refuge in naval ports like Corsica and Naples. In the end, only a handful of warships that managed to slip through the gaps in the Imperial Navy’s blockade escaped to the Duchy of Savoy and Sicily, and that was that. The warships holed up in their ports never again ventured out to sea.
Regarding the Battle of Corsica, the common folk on the streets said:
“It was nothing more than a neighborhood mutt getting brave and biting a tiger’s tail.”
The jeer of a cynical cardinal in the Vatican, rumored to be none other than Giovanni di Lorenzo de’ Medici, was even more renowned.
“Even if a prisoner manages to land a punch on a guard’s nose, is he not still a prisoner locked in a cell? If anything, he only makes his situation worse. Did he really expect the guard he struck to say, ‘You’re the first person to ever hit me, I’ll set you free’? Not even a hack playwright would write such a script.”
Just as the cardinal had said, the situation in the Mediterranean grew even worse for France and Spain. The Imperial Navy, with fire in its eyes, began to comb through the entire sea. Any ship flying a French or Spanish flag was either sunk or captured on sight.
Any ship without a flag was boarded and inspected. If any goods not authorized by the Empire, particularly narcotics, were discovered, the ship was seized immediately. If a ship attempted to flee or resist, it was deemed a pirate vessel and sunk without delay. The Imperial Navy’s ferocious campaign was so intense that even the Ottoman Empire had to tread carefully. Ottoman ships wouldn’t even raise anchor to head for the western North African regions of the Mediterranean. The situation reached a point where a conspiracy theory began to circulate among the merchants of the region.
“Don’t you think the Imperial Navy might have deliberately shown a moment of weakness at Corsica?”
This was the situation that had driven Cesare Borgia to his decision. Nevertheless, he was still preparing to demand a high price for his betrayal. The problem was that his plan was almost identical to the one Venice had foolishly attempted.
I will demonstrate the might of the army under my command and raise my value!
“That could be seen as reckless bravado, Your Grace.”
When Cesare shared his innermost thoughts with a confidant, the man pointed this out, but Cesare answered with confidence.
“It is not bravado.”
***
There were always those who would sell goods even to their country’s enemies for their own profit, and Florence was no exception. With the outbreak of war, a tremendous amount of military supplies was being produced. The implementation of mass production and a total war system had greatly increased output, but the management of these supplies remained haphazard and disorganized.
The Empire had pointed out this problem, and the management system was being reformed along Imperial lines, but in that brief window of chaos, a considerable number of weapons and supplies had flowed south through smugglers. Unlike the north, where Imperial oversight was strict, the south was still lax.
***
And through this black market, Cesare had been able to raise an additional 2,000 musketeers armed with Florentine long rifles. Combined with his existing musketeers and artillery, he now commanded a force of roughly 10,000 musketeers and an artillery corps with 50 cannons.
“This should be more than enough to be taken seriously!”
Filled with confidence in his military strength, Cesare drafted a long list of demands. He reviewed the dozens of conditions with a pleased expression.
“This seems modest enough.”
“Compared to the size of the Duchy, it seems excessive. Perhaps you should reduce the terms?”
At his aide’s worried suggestion, Cesare shook his head.
“I’m telling you, it’s modest. It’s more than enough, as long as the Imperial Army doesn’t show up! Besides, a negotiation is a haggle! You always have to start with a high price!”
However, the news that followed plunged Cesare into despair.
- The main force of the army heading for the Duchy is the Imperial Army. No, almost the entire force consists of Imperial Army units.
- Troop numbers are at least 30,000.
“Goddammit!”
Cursing, Cesare tore the list of demands to shreds.
- The Empire does not haggle.
- You want to haggle? Have you not heard what happened to Milan?
The tale of Milan, which had its city walls utterly obliterated after refusing the Empire’s proposal, was all too famous. In the end, Cesare was left with no choice but to present only his most essential, bare-minimum conditions.
***
When the news of Cesare’s betrayal reached Rome, it too was thrown into an uproar.
“I told you, didn’t I? I told you that you could not trust that bastard!”
Juan Borgia de Gandia, Duke of Gandia, illegitimate son of Alexander VI and older brother of Cesare Borgia, was exploding with rage, the veins on his neck bulging.
“How many times did I tell you that man would go to Mecca and praise Allah if it meant he could fill his own belly!”
“Huuuh…”
As Juan’s tirade continued, Pope Alexander VI, his face a mask of anguish, could only place a hand on his forehead and sigh.
“That goddamned son of a—!”
“Huuuh…”
Watching Juan pace the room, spitting curses and vitriol at Cesare, Alexander VI sighed and lamented to himself.
How could brothers born from the same womb be like this…
***
Juan and Cesare, born to Alexander VI and his mistress Vannozza dei Cattanei, were famous for being bitter rivals. To be more precise, they were not merely rivals, but irreconcilable enemies.² The reason for their animosity was power.
When Alexander VI became Pope, Juan was showered with titles: Gonfaloniere of the Church, Commander-in-chief of the papal army, administrator of Saint Peter’s Basilica, Duke of Gandia, Duke of Sessa, and Grand Constable of Naples. Cesare, on the other hand, was merely elevated from Bishop of Pamplona to Cardinal.
For the sake of the family’s glory, Alexander VI had entrusted military command to Juan while placing Cesare in the church. Cesare was deeply dissatisfied with this arrangement and came to see Juan as a thorn in his side. Juan was well aware of this and never let Cesare out of his sight.
Eventually, the friction between them grew so great that Alexander VI summoned Cesare for a private meeting. Afterward, Cesare resigned his cardinalate and, with his father’s support, began to build the Duchy of Romagna. It would have been best if it had ended there, but the situation only worsened. Just before the war began, Juan was attacked.
As he was walking the night streets of Rome with only two guards and a servant, assassins disguised as thieves ambushed him. In the struggle, one guard and the servant were killed, and Juan himself suffered minor injuries. It was a major incident.
“If not for these, I would be a dead man.”
What saved Juan’s life were two Imperial-made six-shot cavalry pistols. Having acquired them through the black market, Juan always kept them concealed on his person, a habit that had now saved his life. After surviving the attack, Juan tried to identify the dead assailants and find who was behind it, but the case ultimately went unsolved.
However, rumors filled Rome that Cesare had orchestrated the attack. If Juan were to disappear, Cesare was practically the only one who could fill the vacuum—the various ducal titles, the position of Commander-in-chief. But Cesare had been in the Duchy of Romagna at the time, leaving a situation where there was ‘only circumstantial evidence, but no physical proof,’ and the case had to be closed.
Though the case was closed, the incident left Juan grinding his teeth at the mere mention of Cesare’s name. And now, here he was, raging before Alexander VI, cursing his brother.
***
“Huuuh… So…”
Letting out a long sigh, Alexander VI looked at Juan.
“So, is there any way to escape this crisis?”
“…”
At his father’s question, Juan’s mouth snapped shut. The state of the Church Army gathered in Rome was hopeless. Compared to the army descending from the north, their numbers were pitifully small, and their morale had hit rock bottom. It was considered a blessing that they had at least managed to bring their weapons with them. They had held out hope for the Kingdom of Naples’ army advancing from the south, but that hope soon turned to despair.
It was because of the slogans under which the Neapolitan army marched.
- The unification and internal affairs of Italy must be decided by Italians!
- The Kingdom of Naples rejects foreign intervention!
- We march to prevent foreign intervention!
Nowhere in the justifications offered by the Kingdom of Naples was there any mention of ‘defending the Papal States’ or ‘protecting the Pope.’ In this war, the Pope and the Papal States had been thoroughly excluded.
“Is there a way?”
“…There is no military solution.”
“And France and Spain?”
“They’re hiding in their holes, just watching.”
At Juan’s reply, Alexander VI once again placed a hand on his forehead. After a long moment of contemplation, he looked up at his son.
“You said there is no military solution?”
“That is correct.”
“Then that means we must negotiate… What can we possibly gain through negotiation?”
“The safety of the Church and Your Holiness, perhaps. If we press hard, we might be able to retain the Papal States outside of Italy.”
Alexander VI’s face fell in despair at Juan’s answer.
“Outside of Italy? The moment we lose our lands within Italy, we will lose those outside as well.”
Beyond Italy, a significant number of Papal States still existed across Europe, granted as fiefs to cardinals and bishops. These territories were tempting prizes for secular monarchs. If the Papal States within Italy were to disappear, the external territories would be picked apart and vanish in an instant.
“…Still, doing our best to negotiate is the only path forward.”
“Yes. And it must be done before the Church Army collapses.”
With France and Spain proving useless, negotiation was their only option. And the Church Army currently in Rome was a ticking time bomb. Their morale was nonexistent, and their pay was long overdue. One wrong move, and they would turn from an army of the Church into a band of brigands ready to plunder it.
“Send an envoy. Tell them we wish to negotiate. Say that the Vatican is willing to cooperate fully with the unification of Italy.”
***
Upon hearing the message from the Vatican’s envoy, Hyang immediately summoned Han Myeong-hoe.
“Will the Prime Minister step forward?”
“Please entrust this to your humble servant, Your Majesty! The beginning of a war is politics, and the end of a war is also politics. In the realm of politics, your servant is confident!”
“Then I leave it in your hands, Prime Minister.”
“I shall do my utmost!”
Having handed the task to Han Myeong-hoe, Hyang gazed at Gibraltar on the map and muttered.
“It’s time to return what was received, and take what is rightfully ours.”