Chapter 249: Gold Coin
“Have you ever tried testing its gold content?”
“I’ve only tried using the touchstone（ rubbing the gold surface with the touchstone and judging by the color left behind）. I can’t bear to use the fire assay or acid test, but I heard these gold coins were minted in Venice, just like the Ducat, with at least ninety-nine percent content.” The merchant said, flipping that gold coin over, “Look, look at this portrait, the color is also very beautiful.”
Not only because it was minted first, but also because it hasn’t been officially circulated, with much less friction and collision, and even more because the Venetians might have adopted new minting technology, the patterns on the gold coin are exceptionally clear.
“Oh, it’s really the Little Saint.” A peddler who often did business on Ayyarasa Road sighed. If this gold coin had already started circulating, he wouldn’t mind getting one, punching a hole in it, and wearing it around his neck as an amulet, but since it hasn’t circulated, that definitely means its current value is no longer just its intrinsic value.
He stared at the gold coin, unable to look away, and asked, “What’s the gold content of the current Roman gold coin（ here referring to the Byzantine gold coin）?”
“Eighty-three to eighty-five percent.” A voice answered, and someone immediately laughed and cursed, “Those greedy good dogs!”
When this gold coin might hold different meanings, the Isaacites still didn’t let themselves lose too much, but the gold content alone already made their costs break even.
“For them, not making money is a loss.” Another person retorted.
But most people’s attention was still on this gold coin; it was crafted too perfectly. Although only slightly larger than a thumbnail, the side portrait was very clear. They could even directly see on the small relief sculpture that the Lord of Cyprus indeed had delicate features but a hard outline, and they could clearly read the proverb above it: “With the Lord.”
There was also a string of slightly smaller patterns. What was this? The merchants could confirm it was a number, not a decorative pattern or distorted letters. “The year of issue, possibly a suggestion from the Venetians.” The owner of the gold coin said.
“But why use Saracen numbers?”
“Probably because that lord is now promoting them.”
“I think using the duodecimal system for calculations would be more convenient.”
“Each has its advantages. But these were set by that lord for those poor people.”
The merchant’s words caused a brief silence in the tavern. Although Caesar’s reputation for benevolence was already well-known, was there really a lord who, for the serfs on his territory, adopted a new base and counting method? They couldn’t be sure.
In the past, when merchants heard that the local lord had newly minted currency, or changed to some new base system, their first reaction was that the lord wanted to use it to collect wealth.
After all, what good was it to let these serfs count and calculate?
They were already cunning enough, dragging their feet—when serving the lord, breaking tools—if the tool wasn’t their own, stealing and hiding grain—you can’t imagine how many tricks they have, and even more poaching and stealing—men, women, and children, they ravaged the lord’s forests, fields, and lakes.
If the lord’s steward and the Church’s priests wanted to make up shortfalls or just complete the lord’s assigned work through fabrication, wouldn’t it be even more troublesome if the serfs could count?
“Did he really reduce the taxes?”
“Yes, I’ve confirmed it. His tax collectors are everywhere.” That deep-voiced person said, “Only poll tax and land tax. If the vineyard, olive grove, or fields are rented, then land rent must be paid; there are no others—at least for this year.”
“Does he want more soldiers?”
This was the only reason people could think of; soldiers definitely needed to be recruited.
But didn’t the previous lords recruit soldiers? Correct, the current serfs, while laboring hard, also had to fight for the lord. They too had to shed their last drop of blood when the Saracens attacked, perhaps for their land, wives and children, or even for themselves.
They are serfs now, but before completely losing their ability to labor, they could at least live. But once they became Saracen slaves, it was uncertain, not to mention that the Saracens would also burn villages and slaughter commoners.
The merchant said nothing, just flipped the gold coin to the other side. Instead of the commonly seen Jesus Christ surrounded by stars, it was a cross. The merchant gazed at it, kissed it at his lips, then carefully tucked it inside his clothes, put away the reliquary box and small cloth bag, and hung it at his waist.
“Only gold coins were minted?” Another person asked again. “Are there silver coins and copper coins?”
“Yes.” The merchant took out two silver coins and a handful of copper coins for everyone to appreciate. Of course, they still couldn’t be casually held and examined. Although their value wasn’t as high as gold coins, they already exceeded most of their kind. A friend of the merchant, with permission, held up a silver coin and a copper coin for comparison.
Then he discovered the silver coin and copper coin were different. “What is this?” He asked about the fine patterns on the edge of the silver coin.
“To prevent someone from tampering, grinding off filings from it—the gold coins have them too, you just didn’t notice.”
“But couldn’t this be achieved with a die, or by hammering?”
“Indeed not. I heard their craftsmen say they ground them one by one with a grinding wheel. Not many, but it still exhausted them.
After all, that’s ten thousand gold coins, thirty thousand silver coins. Fortunately, copper coins don’t need this.”
This remark drew a burst of laughter. “Even the Isaacites wouldn’t want to grind filings from copper coins to sell!”
“Who knows?” That merchant shrugged disdainfully. “I heard they’re still racking their brains for a simpler way to engrave these patterns.
I hope they can figure it out soon.” The merchant said: “If they can, from now on I’ll use Cyprus gold coins for all my trade. This ensures every gold coin my trading partner and I receive is full weight and full measure.”
“No wonder the Isaacites want to acquire these gold coins.”
Everyone likes shiny gold things, but no one pays more attention to the reputation behind gold coins than merchants. Just like in trade, a good has a fixed price, but whether the buyer offers Roman gold coins or gold coins minted by Christian countries will directly affect the seller’s willingness to sell.
At least the merchant would definitely choose the former.
Now, compared to the suddenly rising Venice gold coins, they perhaps had one more new trustworthy circulating item.
“Ten thousand gold coins is too few. Does that lord just want us to wear them as ornaments around our necks?” A merchant complained.
“No way around it. I heard for this expedition, the Knight of Bethlehem, the Count of Edessa, and the Lord of Cyprus put out a large sum of money.”
“How much?”
“Possibly half of his current assets.”
“Then indeed no way around it. They are the spear and shield of our Holy City.” An Ayyarasa Road merchant said proudly. “They are more loyal and close than all brothers and friends. But if they can capture Damascus—the king will reward him many times over. By then he might be willing to mint more gold coins.”
“Do you think… we can achieve victory this time?” Someone said lowly, not that he meant to dampen spirits, but in these decades, God and the saints seemed to no longer favor the Crusaders. “It’s all because those… knights have lost their due piety and courage…”
“Hush!” Someone immediately scolded sharply. The Ayyarasa Road merchant quickly said loudly: “Of course, we will certainly achieve a great victory. Perhaps you don’t know yet, I’ve already obtained permission to accompany the army.”
People immediately buzzed: “How did you get the permission? Weren’t they all gone?”
At this, even the merchant who showed the gold coin couldn’t stay calm. He eagerly grabbed that person to ask for more details. Who wouldn’t want to accompany the army on expedition? The daily consumption of the great army alone could bring considerable profit to every accompanying merchant—a army of over ten thousand was like a moving city: oil, charcoal, cloth, wheat, barley, livestock, wine… even clean water could become goods.
Not to mention, if they could capture Damascus… heavens, that would be a heaven on earth.
The merchants present of course hoped to obtain a charter from the King of Ayyarasa Road, just like those merchants who accompanied Amaury I on the expedition to Egypt—just like in Fustat, before the smoke cleared and the wailing stopped, even with corpses piled in courtyards and streets, they would eagerly enter the city and buy exquisite and cheap spoils of war from the Crusaders. These things only needed a quick resale for tenfold, even hundredfold profit.
And beyond these people, some peddlers and craftsmen fell into contemplation. Whether in villages or cities, artisans and merchants also had some ordinary farmers as relatives.
They might have their own small plot of land, or perhaps just be tenant farmers, but if as that merchant said, the Lord of Cyprus was generous enough to abolish miscellaneous taxes and additional taxes, requiring only land tax and poll tax—and the Church’s tithe definitely still had to be paid—but for those honest and dull farmers, it was already like heaven.
After all, for a family rooted in the land to prosper only took a few years—as long as after the priests and Knight Masters collected the taxes, the remaining food could still fill a husband and wife and their children, just watch. In just a few years, the infant still in swaddling clothes crying for milk could become a little worker doing odd jobs in the fields, and a few more years, they would be proper laborers working in the fields.
And meanwhile, newborns kept arriving. With population growth, they could reclaim and farm more land, produce more grain, support more people—this would become a virtuous cycle.
Many wealthy farmers rose rapidly in just a few good years. He just couldn’t be sure if the other was exaggerating or if it was true.
But Cyprus wasn’t far from Ayyarasa Road; they could try to inquire.
There were also some people wearing hats and black clothes, with gloomy expressions.
When those laughing tavern guests contemptuously spoke of the Isaacites, comparing them to pigs and dogs, the young ones among them might show some anger, but the elders were accustomed to it. They pulled the young people of their clan and led them out of the tavern.
“This is truly a troubling matter.” That evening in the Synagogue of Isaac on Ayyarasa Road, their great sage said this.
“How is the situation in Bethlehem?” The great sage looked at the sage of Bethlehem. He stood up, bowed to the great sage with a troubled face, shook his head, and said nothing.
He had replaced the previous sage to ascend to this position, and the previous sage was expelled because he and the Isaacites in the city had consecutively made two mistakes.
The first was when they heard that the Knight of Bethlehem Caesar was trapped in Damascus and became a Saracen slave, they were swayed by Lego, thinking it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
They thought they could manage to ransom Caesar out. Because of his good reputation, he might not be able to repay the ransom, so they could demand he tilt future policies toward them—whatever monopoly, charter, pass—they would give returns, not make him work for nothing.
Lego convinced the others this way; they all agreed it was a worthwhile deal, with huge profits and minimal risk. Unexpectedly, the Saracen Grand Vizier Saladin didn’t take them seriously at all. He saw through their plans at a glance. Not only did they lose a large sum of money, they were also forced out of Damascus like sinners, wearing only a linen undershirt.
Not only that, the sage of the synagogue in Damascus City and his student were also hanged on the city wall as a warning.
Logically, after this failure, Lego should have restrained himself, but he had the common vice of all Isaacites: always wanting to gain big with small stakes. Like a gambler clutching his last few chips, he tried to deceive the Christians of Bethlehem into believing their lord and he were on the same side.
But before this plan could be fully implemented, someone informed Caesar, whose reaction was swift. He rejected their bribes and flattery. Lego and his accomplices were all given dozens of lashes, bloodied, and driven out of Bethlehem.
Along with his son-in-law Jacques, a Christian, who was also expelled from Ayyarasa Road.
From then on, the Isaacites gradually felt that Caesar might not be the kind of ruler easily swayed by gold and women. He was the most troublesome enemy they had encountered, far worse than those greedy and arrogant rulers.
What angered the Isaacites most was that Caesar’s dislike of them wasn’t even because of faith.
In his first marriage, he wed a Byzantine Princess who believed in the Orthodox Church, and in his second marriage, his wife was a Venetian, and the Venetians’ hypocrisy and rebellion were already well-known.
“Where are Lego and his son-in-law now?”
“They went to Nalessa.” One person answered. Lego was indeed a man of courage. After the whipping, he fell into high fever, delirious at times. Even so, he managed to sell that batch of soap for a good price.
Of course, he didn’t trade with his own clansmen; he knew their nature too well. The one who traded with him was a knight from the Knights Hospitaller. Though the price was pressed a bit, it was enough for Lego to establish himself in Nalessa. Not exactly a comeback, but showing some promising signs.
“Did Lego say what kind of person he is? If he can’t be moved by worldly things, what about relics, chapels, or churches?
The king is preparing an expedition against Damascus and must need money too. Will he accept our donations?”
“I’ve tried,” a merchant said, “but was refused. However, the Count of Tripoli and the Duke of Antioch gladly accepted the gifts we sent.” Though even these two, having received favors from the Isaacites, might not do much for them.
But compared to the clear stances of the King of Ayyarasa Road and that Lord of Cyprus, these two’s attitudes were far more reassuring. The Isaacites had wandered for a thousand years; they weren’t afraid of angry neighbors, fierce knights, greedy nobles and kings. What they feared most—being no longer useful.
They steadfastly held to their faith, clothing, and diet. They knew in Christian eyes, they were heretics—more detestable than heathens. But how could they be so bold and fearless? Of course because they knew those superiors needed them.
“He must be influenced by that person. The king is still young after all; one day he will know we are indispensable.”
“And now?” Someone asked this untimely question, making the great sage glare at him. The other knew he misspoke and lowered his head, while the great sage could only sigh deeply and look toward the sage of Nalessa.
“Go contact Lego.”
