NOVPUBAugust 1484, Capital of the Kingdom of Portugal, the ancient yet newly splendid City of Seven Hills, Lisbon.
In this era, Lisbon was an undeniable European metropolis. It was the capital of a kingdom with fifteen hundred thousand subjects, housing over seventy thousand permanent residents and thousands of foreign merchants and travelers. The ancient Sintra Palace was situated upon the Sintra Mountains to the north of the city; it was the true power center of the kingdom, home to an ambitious and vigorous king.
To the south of the capital, a tranquil long river gently flowed. This was the mother river of the Kingdom of Portugal, the Tagus River. Originating from the central mountains of the Iberian Peninsula, it coursed west, passed through forests blanketing the highlands, meandered around woodlands enclosing pastures and crossed the borders of two kingdoms. It irrigated the seaside plains dense with farmlands, nourished the capital’s suburbs adorned with orchards, and finally arrived at this prosperous and splendid seaside city to meet the Atlantic Ocean.
At the rivermouth where the Tagus flowed into the sea, there thrived a bustling seaside port. Merchant ships, warships, exploration vessels—hundreds of sails were docked here, waiting; nobles, merchants, commoners bustled through, trading. Looking closer, one could see hundreds of stout slaves with dark skin, submissively bowing their heads, drenched in sweat, unloading the large quantities of incoming goods.
Under the scorching sun, Bruno strutted toward the port in a newly tailored, elegant attire, accompanied by a few robust sailors armed with daggers and walking briskly.
Noting his noble garb, merchants of diverse nationalities and local fishermen along the way made room for him to pass. Only a few inebriated sailors in short tunics staggered forward. The drunkards, mumbling foul language, reached out their grubby hands towards the well-dressed young noble.
Bruno’s brow furrowed. He lifted his right foot and kicked hard, sending the lead drunkard tumbling to the ground. The robust sailors following him cursed aloud, surged forward, and with daggers inverted, used the blunt ends to ferociously pummel the shoulders and backs of the drunkards, knocking them to the ground with "bang bang" sounds. Soon enough, the cursing turned into screams, and the screams into groans.
"Boss, these blind fools must’ve come from some merchant ship, bumping around like masterless stray dogs! Judging by their accents, they’re definitely not from Lisbon. There were too many deaths among the lower-deck sailors on the trip back from the demon’s land to the south, and we can’t replace them quickly enough. The fleet has to set sail southward soon... Shall we grab these idiots and put them to work as deckhands on our ship?"
A brutish, middle-aged sailor stepped forward and asked in a cold, low voice.
Hearing this, Bruno hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.
"Forget it. Under the Holy Mother’s watch, I’ve just married the woman I love... Besides, Sir Dias, the royal supervisor, is also with the fleet. He’s going to lead several scholars and missionaries with us to the south. I haven’t figured out Sir Dias’s temper yet... Let’s just spare them this time!"
The middle-aged sailor nodded obediently at these words.
Hurrying back from the distant town of Faro in the south by carriage, Paulo, the former chief sailor’s widowed sister, became Bruno’s bride, making him one of their own among the sailors. Moreover, as the noble’s son ventured into the native kingdoms and obtained intelligence on the Kingdom of John, he was awarded the lowest rank of knight by the royal family. The crew thus held some respect for him and acknowledged him as their leader.
"Ptui! Your luck saved you; you’ve escaped with your lives!"
The middle-aged sailor kicked a drunkard on the ground hard and spit contemptuously. In that era, being captured as a deckhand for the lowest ranks on a ship heading to the horrifying Black Africa was akin to being handed a death sentence.
Another burly sailor moved closer and cautiously asked,
"Boss, this Sir Dias, the royal supervisor, what’s his deal?"
"Ah, what’s his deal? He comes from true nobility, as esteemed as a royal knight and captain!"
Bruno’s laugh was tinged with self-mockery. Such genuine nobles were not something he, an illegitimate child born of a nobleman, could compare with.
"Sir Dias’s father and grandfather were nobles, veterans who followed Prince Enrique as navigators. He himself is highly trusted by the king, not only a noble royal knight but also the overseer of the royal warehouse, and a current captain."
"Hey, boss, if he’s a captain, why should he care about the lives of a few common sailors!"
The middle-aged sailor laughed grimly, turning his head to coldly glance at the still groaning drunkards on the ground, then turning back to ask,
"Fodesse! A noble like that is going south with us to lands infested with demons?"
"Sir Dias won’t venture deep into the demon’s lands. He’s been part of the conquest of the Gold Coast before. This time he’s heading south to support the newly built Elmina Castle since gold is abundant there."
As Bruno said this, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing.
On his last voyage, he had narrowly escaped death from the demon’s lands and had even witnessed the demon’s Angel Envoy on earth, which haunted his dreams for a month. Yet, the rewards of such adventures were generous and astounding. The gemstones, gold, and ivory he brought back sold for a handsome price in the Lisbon market. Not only was the money enough to throw a respectable noble wedding, but it also allowed him to buy a noble manor on the outskirts of the capital, complete with its own orchard.
