Crimea had been relatively peaceful these days, or so thought the young woman who had come from Constantinople, residing in the inn.
But Kaffa always reeked of gunpowder; she had felt this way since her arrival last year—the Eastern Orthodox eyed the Catholics with suspicion, and the Greeks were wary of the Ligurians.
By early 1428, this feeling had intensified.
Yet, the Genoese in the city paid no heed, believing that with time, public discontent would wash away as it had in the past.
To demonstrate their ironclad confidence, Grimaldi and other key Genoese figures were persuaded by Guney to hold a public execution at the end of the month for a criminal Greek merchant.
He was accused of colluding with Theodoro and suspected of gathering and selling intelligence about Kaffa.
On January 29, 1428, in the city center of Kaffa, the Genoese executioners pushed the Greek merchant onto the gallows.
Then, a Ligurian exaktor, also serving as a messenger, read out his crimes to the citizens.
When he declared, "Citizens! This shameless and vile criminal, through various illicit means, amassed a colossal sum of 7,000 Genovino gold coins (1 Genovino equals 1 florin, approximately 0.85 to 0.95 ducat)!" the Eastern Orthodox citizens watching below interpreted it in another light:
Now the Ligurians could send a wealthy merchant to the gallows on charges of treason and seize his property, but didn't that mean they, who were watching from below, would also eventually meet the same fate as him on the gallows?
If Genoa wasn't even willing to expel the Tatars for them, how could they possibly protect their private property?
This pessimistic sentiment spread among these Eastern Orthodox, gradually fermenting into a mix of sorrow and indignation.
Suddenly, someone in the crowd shouted, "Death to the Ligurian heretics!" Everyone, both on and off the platform, was shocked.
But immediately, another voice cried out, "Defend the orthodox, expel the heretics!" After that, the emotions of all Eastern Orthodox citizens in the streets were stirred.
Some began to snatch weapons from the Genoese soldiers stationed in the streets, and some Eastern Orthodox soldiers themselves joined the ranks of the citizens.
Some even rushed onto the gallows, glaring furiously at the executioner and the exaktor.
"What are you doing? Everyone back to your positions! Are you trying to rebel?" The blond-haired Ligurian exaktor looked at the citizens before him with disbelief, then drew the sword from his waist, threatening them.
The Catholic soldiers who hadn't participated also reacted, drawing their weapons and shouting.
A bold, strong Greek Eastern Orthodox man, seeing this, was consumed by rage.
He strode forward, snatched a spear from a young soldier, and cursed, "Come on, kill me if you dare, just like the Tatars killed our farmers!"
His outburst terrified everyone in the street, but the surrounding Genoese soldiers quickly reacted, separating him from the nearby Eastern Orthodox citizens and ordering him to drop his weapon.
However, he was incredibly stubborn and refused.
The citizens nearby dared not actively escalate the incident, nor would they abandon their compatriot, so they could only watch anxiously from outside the circle.
Suddenly, with a "hiss," someone struck the first blow, but by the time everyone reacted, the surrounded Greek had been stabbed countless times.
His eyes were filled with resentment and disbelief, and the painful expression in his brown pupils completely infected everyone in the street.
The anger of the Eastern Orthodox was thoroughly ignited.
They began to resist Genoese rule with all their might.
Some grabbed pitchforks, cleavers, or farm tools, others started snatching soldiers' weapons, and some even pulled out their hidden weapons, ready to fight to the death with these Ligurians who had always trampled on them.
The scene immediately descended into chaos, with citizens and soldiers clashing.
Many local mercenary soldiers even defected to the citizens' side.
The blond exaktor tried to stop them but was cut down by several citizens who jumped onto the gallows, his head severed.
The Greek merchant, who was originally to be executed, was let down by the terrified executioners nearby and even hoisted up by some citizens as their leader.
However, such reckless acts were only by a minority; most people were simply venting their emotions in the streets, resisting Genoese rule in their own way.
Although for a time the citizens' actions remained like headless chickens, with the addition and leadership of several reputable and capable individuals, their actions gradually became more orderly.
They abandoned the wanton slaughter of hours earlier, instead becoming pioneers in defending the interests of the Eastern Orthodox—though many in this "vanguard" used this pretext to benefit themselves.
This group, led by these leaders, began to head towards the Kaffa Consulate.
Along the way, many who had long harbored discontent joined them.
During this time, the number of people in this group gradually expanded from hundreds to thousands.
Their demands were simple, just three: to demand that the Kaffa authorities respect their sacred rights, send soldiers to protect Eastern Orthodox farmers, and open granaries to relieve the people or reduce taxes.
From the window of the inn, the young woman who had witnessed the entire process felt her hair stand on end.
She quickly called her two personal maids and ordered, "Hurry and pack your bags; prepare to leave here."
"Why, my lady?"
"Do you know what happened in Sicily in March 1282?" the young woman asked with a solemn expression.
"Sorry, no," the maids said in unison.
The young woman felt like she was about to spit out a mouthful of old blood.
She tried to calm herself and said, "On March 30 of that year, the first Monday after Easter, the Sicilian Vespers① incident occurred."
Amber, hearing this, made a look of sudden realization and interjected, "I remember my lady seemed to have said that after the Sicilian Vespers incident, there was the Sicilian Vespers War."
"Exactly," the young woman's face showed approval.
"I understand, so are we going to Theodoro? After all, it is an Eastern Orthodox country, and it's your…"
"No, we are going straight back to Constantinople," the young woman said while packing.
"I don't think Theodoro will be very clean regarding today's events."
The two maids exchanged glances, as they did not understand the meaning of what the young woman had just said, but ultimately, they were only her maids, so they could only follow her and pack their luggage.
Not far away, at the Kaffa Consulate, Kaffa Consul Paolo Grimaldi was calmly enjoying his lunch for the day, and incidentally wrote in his notebook:
"Nothing happened today."
① Sicilian Vespers incident: On March 30, 1282, the first Monday after Easter, an uprising occurred in Palermo.
The fuse of this uprising was a French Angevin soldier insulting a local woman.
The ringing of the evening bells became the signal for the locals to resist the French army, historically known as the "Sicilian Vespers incident."
Large numbers of French soldiers were killed by the insurgents, and the uprising spread from Palermo to the entire island of Sicily.
The Sicilian nobility declared independence, joined the uprising, and attacked the main French strongholds.
As the situation in Sicily spiraled out of control, Charles of Anjou could only abandon his plan to invade East Rome and re-establish the Latin Empire, turning instead to confront the Sicilian uprising.
This event was later strongly suspected to have been orchestrated by East Roman Emperor Michael VIII.