As the scholars' gathering was winding down, the door suddenly swung open. A middle-aged man with deep, thoughtful eyes and an aura of scholarly wisdom entered, led by a servant. The crowd turned to look and imdiately erupted in excited and surprised exclamations:
"Chelebi Hirada! What brings you here?"
"Chelebi, we were just reading your great work."
"You've written brilliantly! There are so parts we don't quite understand—could you help us interpret them?"
"Please, have a seat here..."
Hirada, the scholar, was a bit tired as he responded to the enthusiastic greetings. He sat down on the carpet and smiled, discussing the relationship between the Tunisians and the Romans with the others in the room. This was already the third such gathering he had attended that day. Initially, this was supposed to be just a job for him—he had received a paynt to publish An Analysis of the Origins of Tunisia under his na.
The fee was quite substantial, totaling 1,000 riyals. After all, the pamphlet had not been approved by any religious authority and harshly criticized the Janissaries, so he was taking a significant risk.
However, after repeatedly studying the pamphlet's content, Hirada began to believe in it more and more, and he actively promoted it throughout Tunisia.
"It's beyond question that we are descendants of the mighty Eastern Roman Empire," Hirada quickly beca the center of the discussion, echoing the ideas from the pamphlet. "And now, standing between us and civilization, prosperity, are those Ottoman invaders!
"They slaughtered our ancestors and have brutally oppressed us, the true heirs of Ro, for over a century!"
The "Ottomans" Hirada referred to were the Janissaries. But there was little need to incite hatred toward them—everyone in the room was already nodding in agreent. A century earlier, when the Ottoman Janissaries invaded Tunisia, they had done so with widespread looting and killing.
One person cautiously asked, "But, Chelebi, our Roman brothers—the French—are Christians. What if they force us to convert?"
"Rest assured, that won't happen," Hirada confidently replied. "To be honest, I've interacted with high-ranking French officials. They are good, civilized, and tolerant people. They want to help us achieve self-governance and promise not to force us to change anything…"
"That's wonderful!"
While the Francophiles were excitedly discussing, Joseph was riding in his ship-shaped carriage, heading north of Sousse.
Inside the carriage, the French consul in Tunisia, Joann, reported on the progress of the "identity recognition" campaign but then expressed concern:
"Your Highness, we've been working hard, but it seems no Tunisians have dared to stand up against the Janissaries. I an, we're still seeing frequent attacks by the Janissaries on French citizens. Should we consider using military force to intimidate them?"
According to the Prince's plan, they first needed to make the Tunisian natives feel supported by their "Roman brothers," then remind them of their long-held hatred for the Janissary class, leading them to rise up in rebellion.
Joseph shook his head:
"We must avoid a security war at all costs—it would drain us. The Janissaries have ruled Tunisia for so long; it's natural that ordinary people fear them. That's why we need to give them so 'incentives.'"
"Incentives?"
"People might not risk challenging the powerful for revenge, but they'll take risks for gold," Joseph said with a smile, looking at a distant mosque. "That's why I'm going to see Elder Arai."
Elder Arai was a highly influential religious leader in Tunisia, with many followers. Most importantly, he wasn't an Ottoman but a native Tunisian.
An hour and a half later, in a villa near the mosque, Joseph was earnestly trying to persuade Arai:
"This would benefit you and your faction greatly—right now, the Ottomans control the religious sphere. If we drive them out, you will undoubtedly beco the highest leader in Tunisian religious affairs."
The elderly man, who had a kind and gentle appearance, still hesitated and politely declined. After bidding farewell, he returned to the tall mosque with his followers.
Although Arai was tempted by the idea of rallying Tunisian natives to drive out the Ottomans, he ultimately decided the risk was too great and did not agree to the young French noble's suggestion.
Watching Arai leave, Joann whispered to the Prince, "Your Highness, should we… try threatening him?"
Joseph shook his head imdiately: "No need. We'll try again tomorrow."
Although Joann felt that the elder's attitude made it unlikely that further persuasion would work, he said nothing more since the Prince had spoken.
The next day, Joseph brought more people with him for another eting with Elder Arai, discussing the sa topics—urging his followers to launch attacks on the Tunisian Janissaries. In this process, all the wealth "reclaid" from the Janissaries, except for the land, would belong to the attackers.
It was important to note that the Janissaries, as the ruling class in Tunisia, held a vast amount of wealth. Simply ransacking one high-ranking Janissary's ho would be enough to feed several Berber tribes for years! With such a strong incentive and the call of a religious leader, how could the Tunisian natives not fight the Janissaries to the death?
Of course, while the Tunisian Janissaries were now mostly fat and weak, they still controlled the vast majority of the country's weapons. If the natives wanted to challenge them, they would have to seek weapons and funding from their "Roman brothers," thus creating a stronger bond of emotions and interests.
This was Joseph's "sacrificial offering" plan.
However, the cautious Elder Arai once again refused his suggestion, politely hinting that the young noble should stop coming. As a Berber who had managed to survive in the Ottoman-controlled religious sphere, Arai had relied on his cautious, non-confrontational nature.
As Arai left, Joann looked deflated and was about to ask what to do next when he noticed the Prince turning to the two "guards" behind him:
"What do you think? Can you do it?"
The two n simply nodded and imdiately returned to the carriage, where they took out charcoal pencils and sketch pads and began drawing.
Ten minutes later, Joann saw lifelike sketches of Elder Arai on their paper.
"Your Highness, what are you…?" he asked, surprised.
"If Elder Arai doesn't want to agree, we'll help him agree," Joseph said with a mischievous smile. He then ordered the convoy to head to a house a few streets away, which had already been prepared.
The two artists went inside, set up their equipnt, and began turning their sketches into oil paintings.
Watching them work, Joseph couldn't help but marvel: "The Queen was right to insist that I bring my personal artists. She really can predict the future!"
A few days later, an oil painting of Elder Arai, looking solemn as he called on his followers to drive out the Janissary thieves, spread like wildfire throughout Tunisia.
Above the painting was a sharp-angled oval fra containing the words: "Drive out the Ottomans, and all the wealth taken from them, except for land, will belong to the brave warriors who heed this call."
The sharp end of the fra pointed directly at Elder Arai's mouth in the painting, making it clear that these were his words.
The painting was widely circulated in every province, and there were over 10,000 monochro prints made from stone engravings of Elder Arai.
Within ten days, all of Tunisia had heard that Elder Arai had "declared war" on the Ottomans.
This idea was inspired by the previous incident with The Last Supper.
If the highly educated French so firmly believed in the truth of what was depicted in a painting, then the Tunisians, who had far less education, would surely be even more convinced.
Fortunately, since the 18th century, the entire Ottoman and North African religious community had been influenced by Europe and no longer rejected images, which allowed his plan to proceed smoothly.
As for whether Elder Arai would deny it?
Not only had the police cordoned off the area around his ho, making it difficult for ordinary people to see him, but even if he managed to get the word out, people were more likely to believe the realistic painting than a re rumor.
Unless Elder Arai could magically appear in Tunis and publicly declare, "That painting isn't real," this "declaration of war" was as good as confird.
…
Soon, all of Tunisia beca restless under the call of their religious leader.
South of Bizerte, Andalusian Village.
In a dimly lit room, more than a dozen middle-aged n, mbers of the "Sword of Vengeance" organization, gathered. A large painting of Elder Arai hung on the north wall, surrounded by religious symbols.
This organization, composed of Berbers, had been resisting the Janissaries for over a century. However, after such a long ti, they had lost hope of driving out the Ottomans. Young people no longer wanted to join, and the organization was on the verge of collapse.
But then, the religious leader's "declaration of war" arrived.
The painting helped them recruit more than 60 new mbers in just three days, all of them in their twenties and thirties. This filled them with joy.
After the leader of the "Sword of Vengeance," Jamil, led the organization's leaders in prayer, he turned to a bearded man nearby and asked, "What did the Fawaz tribe say?"
"Hassani, the tribal chief, agreed to join us in attacking the town's Janissaries. We'll take 60% of the loot."
Jamil nodded. The Fawaz tribe had many people and could mobilize over 400 warriors, while his group only had about 150. So, it was acceptable for the tribe to take the larger share. Oh, but the "Sword of Vengeance" was, of course, fighting to avenge themselves against the evil Janissaries, not because of those few gold coins!
The bearded man continued, "But the Hassani chief said they only have a few scimitars, and the rest are machetes. He's worried they won't be able to defeat the Janissaries."
By "machetes," he ant tools used for slaughtering livestock and cutting down bushes.
Although the town had only about 200 Janissaries, they possessed dozens of muskets. If a fight broke out, it was hard to say who would win.
Jamil frowned. The "Sword of Vengeance," which had long carried out assassinations and kidnappings of Janissaries, only had about a dozen muskets, and they were all old matchlock guns. They had no ability to provide assistance to their allies.
Another mber clenched his fists and said through gritted teeth, "What are we afraid of? I can lead the warriors to drown those evil enemies in their blood!"
Jamil shook his head decisively. Then the bearded man said, "I heard there's a lord from Tunis who is willing to help warriors who want to drive out the Ottomans."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice, "I've heard he has plenty of muskets, even cannons. Maybe we should go see him."
Everyone in the room imdiately perked up.
…
Bizerte Port.
Jamil cautiously surveyed the unassuming building across the street, repeatedly instructing his n to ensure there were no ambushes before carefully leading them inside.
This was the residence of the lord who could provide them with weapons. He had learned of this place from a French rchant.
The police officer, Ishak, who was undercover as "Zaganos," received them.
In less than an hour, Jamil left the old house, beaming with joy. Just now, Lord Zaganos had asked them to agree to accept the idea of "Roman origins"—Jamil had no objections since he had already read the pamphlet and agreed with the idea of being Roman descendants. After that, Lord Zaganos promised to give him 100 muskets!
And they would even help transport them to the town.
He felt like he was dreaming and pinched himself three tis to make sure it wasn't. With these weapons, he was confident they could sweep through the Janissaries in the town!
Then they would loot every Ottoman mansion in the area!
After Jamil and his n left, Ishak imdiately ordered his subordinates to go to the town to verify the identities of these people.
The "Sword of Vengeance" was a well-known anti-Janissary organization in Tunisia, so Ishak allocated extra weapons to them, hoping they wouldn't disappoint. The guns had been seized from pirates and Janissaries—thousands of them, so they were more than happy to give so away.
On the other side, Jamil returned to his base, quickly connected with Lord Zaganos's n, and five days later, unloaded the muskets from a group of "olive rchants."
However, to his surprise, the Fawaz tribe, even after receiving the weapons, suddenly backed out, saying they needed more ti to prepare before attacking the Janissaries.
Similar situations occurred throughout Tunisia.
The natives eyed the Janissaries warily, and many weapons were distributed to them through Agathon and the Chamber of Comrce. But despite their deep-seated hatred for the Janissaries, no one dared to make the first move.
In Tunis, Joseph frowned as he listened to Ishak's report, recalling a scene from the movie Let the Bullets Fly—Zhang Mazi rallied the townspeople, "With a gun in hand, follow ," but they only peeked timidly from their hos. Even with guns in hand, they didn't dare attack Huang Silang's stronghold.
He hadn't expected the Tunisian natives to be this cowardly.
Frustrated, he paced the room. Even with a religious leader's decree, they still lacked the courage to act. Did they need their lord to personally appear before they would…
Wait a minute!
Joseph suddenly froze, realizing sothing. Yes, that's it!
(Chapter ends)
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