The next morning, Alexius was very satisfied to receive several densely packed confessions from Steward Huse. After reading them, he passed the most important ones to Manuel for him to read.
After receiving them, Manuel finally understood Doria's background and the full story of his betrayal: Maurice Doria, originally named Alberico Doria, was a collateral branch of the prominent Doria family of Genoa. In 1420, he was captured by Theodoro. Because Theodoro, having just regained his access to the sea, lacked naval talent and couldn't afford to hire foreign naval commanders, he was forced to try and persuade captured officers to surrender. Alberico Doria, who had learned that his fief in his hometown had been usurped by his cousins and had nowhere else to go, surrendered to Theodoro and converted to orthodox Christianity, changing his name to Maurice.
By early 1424, Doria, who had become Theodoro's Naval Commander, used his connections to contact the Doge of Genoa, Simon Boccanegra. He then promised to act as an inside agent and provide confidential information, while Boccanegra promised that after conquering all the Black Sea coasts, he would not only bring him back but also grant him a fine fief in Liguria with a radius of 750 canna (1 Genoese canna = 2.49095 m). From then on, Doria acted as Genoa's inside agent, simultaneously recruiting a group of Italians as servants to act as messengers and secretly communicate with Kaffa.
The remaining sections detailed all the Genoese spies Doria knew within Theodoro, listing their characteristics and disguises in varying degrees of detail. Manuel quickly skimmed through them and returned them to Alexius, as counter-espionage work should be left to professionals.
"Father, how do you plan to deal with him?"
Alexius pondered for a moment, then asked Manuel in return: "My child, if you were to deal with him, what would you do?"
"Find a trustworthy person, also familiar with Kaffa, to imitate Doria's handwriting and send false messages. As for Doria himself, I personally think it would be better to find an excuse to sink him in the Black Sea as soon as possible. After all, the sooner unstable elements are eliminated, the better."
Alexius nodded approvingly. Although there were slight differences in the details, their father-son's ideas were quite consistent in the general direction.
"Right, what about the rest of them?"
"Those who have no relation to him and are not privy to secrets will temporarily be sent to our properties as serfs. As for those who know too much but are useless, throw them into the Black Sea to feed the fish."
"..."
"Is there a problem?"
"No, Father."
At dusk, when Manuel returned to his room, he thought the matter was concluded, but a knock on the study door told him that it was not over yet.
"Come in."
The visitor was Badars Gavras, but he was now holding a blond boy of about 10 years old, with the four big men behind him. However, the four men were also escorting a terrified old man, tightly bound.
"This is?"
Badars spoke with a bit of embarrassment: "His Highness the Prince said he intends to entrust this confidential matter to you, Your Highness.
"This old man is not only literate but can also identify and imitate others' handwriting. He also served as the traitor's long-term messenger before."
Manuel quickly understood his father's meaning, and his eyelids couldn't help but twitch. He grumbled inwardly:
Is there no one else in the Principality? Where did the spy chief go? Why is this cheap old man dumping everything on me?
As if sensing Manuel's displeasure, Badars hastily explained: "His Highness said he is currently busy with Mr. Huse setting up a scheme in Kaffa, which is very demanding, so he specifically asked Your Highness to handle this matter."
Alright. So it still has to be done this way.
Manuel gestured to Badars, taking the little boy from his arms, then had the four big men loosen the old man's bonds a bit, and asked gently: "Your name is Dogi, isn't it? Is this child your grandson?"
Old Dogi hastily replied, "Yes."
Manuel continued: "I will have this child convert to orthodox, keep him by my side, teach him greek and tactics, have him read the works of ancient poets, and treat him like my own brother, so that he can have a skill when he grows up.
"But, he could also end up in prison for no clear reason.
"All of this depends on your actions.
"Mr. Dogi, what do you intend to do?"
Old Dogi understood very well, falling to the ground in fear, kissing Manuel's shoes like ancient barbarians did to Roman nobles, pledging his loyalty to him.
Although Manuel's face still held a gentle expression, he was inwardly getting goosebumps, "Is it really necessary?"
After he finally managed to comfort Dogi and his grandson, Manuel was so tired he collapsed into a chair. But suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind, and he impulsively said to Badars, who was lagging behind: "Badars, has that traitor already been sunk into the Black Sea?"
"Your Highness, you're asking the obvious, aren't you? It'll be at least another half an hour. It's not dark yet."
"Do you want to come and watch with me?"
"Didn't you say you wanted to rest?"
"I changed my mind."
"Yes, Your Highness."
By the time the two arrived on horseback, it was already completely dark. Only Huse was directing two servants to pull out the completely mangled, bloodied Doria, wrapped in a large white cloth, to be put into a sack.
The execution site was the most secluded part of Afrita Port, where even fishermen rarely came. Now, with the dark moon and high winds, and no light source, everything looked pitch black. Waves from the tide crashed against the beach, making a "whooshing" sound, as if it were just an ordinary night, just like it had been for thousands of years.
Manuel stopped, half curious, half emotional, and asked Huse to briefly postpone the execution. He intended to say something to the prisoner one last time.
"Mr. Doria, do you think your people will succeed?"
"Of... course, the Mediterranean... the... strongest maritime nation... how could it... be... de... de... de... feated by a... small... small city-state..."
"Ha... ha... *cough*... Anyway... I... I... am going to die, I want... to... know... Manuel Gavras, what... what... do you want...?" Maurice Doria asked, half-dead.
Manuel did not answer him, but simply made a "please proceed" gesture with his left hand, his eyes fixed on the southwest. Seeing this, the executioners put the prisoner into the sack and quickly threw him into the Black Sea.
If the moonlight had pierced through the dark clouds at that moment, those around would surely have noticed Manuel's gaze fixed intently in the direction of Constantinople.
It was a gaze of immense fervor, greed, fanaticism, and ambition.
"Empress of Cities, one day, I will become your new husband and adorn you in a magnificent wedding gown." So said Manuel Gavras in his heart.
The next day, Alexius, overcoming all opposition at the Principality Council, formally drafted the war plan against Kaffa.