157 The Standoff Is Over

"Your highness, I want you to be out of this city, with your crusaders."

The Prince of Taranto could not believe what he has just heard. He leaned back and laughed covering his mouth. "That is very drool, Lord De'Ricci! And they even say that you don't have any sense of humor! You proved them very wrong today!"

"I am serious, your highness." The muscles on Antonius' face did not move by a single inch. "I am serious in my words."

The bright laughter vanished from the old Prince's face within a blink of an eye. "May I know the meaning of this, Lord De'Ricci?"

Antonius replied straight forwardly. "Because I do not trust handing over this city to your hands, this city used to be part of the empire's territory belonging to the empire's Theme of Dyrrhachium, thus in de facto the emperor's frontline official who has all the rights given by his majesty, has the divine right to decide who he shall hand this city to."

"Oh Lord De'Ricci how many years ago was that you are talking about? That sounds exactly like the King of the Alermanians claiming the throne of Italia." The Prince sneered at Antonius' thoughts. "Then what if let's say, some folks do not agree with your idea or your decision? And decide to forcefully take this city and present it over to let's say, the most holiness?"

Antonius' determination cannot be shaken by the Prince's words. "Then I am afraid that I will have to withdraw all of my fleet and cutting off that folk's supplies."

The two men continued staring at each other's eyes for a prolonged minute remaining complete silent, the atmosphere and temperature around them dropped to a freezing point with the night sea wind howling blowing through the two men's cloaks creating a fluttering and flapping sound. The soldiers at both fronts are already shivering from the freeze, but the two men standing in the middle of the formations remains unmoved, waiting for the other side to back off first, as both sides wants this argument to stay at a verbal level, they will not want to see a violent clash happen again in this city when it can be avoided.

"I am sorry, but I cannot accept you, who have done entirely nothing during the entire siege except moving stuff on the sea without ever laying one single man or ship in helping with this siege." The prince broke the silence.

"I am not going to take this city for myself or the emperor."

"Oh? Then which candidate do you nominate? Turn this city into your privateer's frontline base in the Adriatic sea? Let me be truthful with you the Venetians will not tolerate that."

"I am not going to nominate any candidates that has my background…"

"Then who!" The Prince finally can no longer tolerate this man before him and started yelling, he swear to God that if it is not for the lack of monetary support for this expedition, he would have employed the fleets of the Mediterranean republics long before this.

"I can accept that this city shall be a tributary to you, but I insist that the city must be governed by a respected local leader."

The Prince found himself speechless once more at the admiral's thoughts. This is the first time he has ever heard of such things for the past sixty plus years of his life.

"I am not going to ask you why do you insist on your thoughts fearing that I might get angry again, young man, but is this seriously your final decision?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Fine, then I shall not grant this city to one of my knights or noble, of course, in the pope his most holiness' name and approval. Instead, I shall let the locals elect their own leaders, but the only thing is that they have to pay me tribute and taxation at a more lenient rate than my cities in Taranto and Bari, is that alright?"

Antonius nodded and added on. "And your troops, especially those Normans, cannot stay inside this city for too long."

"Fine, we have reached a deal then." The Prince reached his hands forward towards Antonius, the two leader's hands shook together firmly for the second time since the siege. "We shall pull out of the city soon marching southwards towards Epirus, do not worry about it."

"I trust you, your highness."

The two of them, after shaking their hands, turned back towards their men's formation without turning back, then suddenly, the Prince of Taranto stopped in his tracks and shouted out with his back facing Antonius. "Lord De'Ricci! As a descendance of the Julio Claudian dynasty of the empire, I have some advice for you!"

Antonius did not turn back, but also stopped moving.

"Think of yourself, your own interest and benefit first! Before you take care of the interests of others who may or may not concern you, especially the peasants. Because today they can thank you hundreds of times for saving their lives, and tomorrow they can stab you in your back by rioting or revolting for simple things like raising their taxation when you are fighting the infidels for them! Remember that! Lord De'Ricci! Do not let your fraternity and naiveness kill you!"

Antonius's body became stiff for a moment, chortled softly and called out at the Prince of Taranto. "Prince! Your highness! I too, have a word for you!"

"Speak!"

"Lead your men with respect, and they will respect your orders in times of battles; Govern your people with love, and they too will love you and your family when you ascend to Heaven; Face your foes with all of your might, because it does not matter if it is a dagger or a halberd, they can all kill you; See everyone as the same, because in the end of the day… The blood you carries will not give you any special abilities, the noble today might become the peasant tomorrow, and the peasant today, might become the noble in the future."

The Prince of Taranto turned back staring at the back of Antonius with his sight as if becoming a dagger trying to pierce it onto Antonius, though the latter continued walking towards his formation humming the rhythm of his navy.

The face of the Prince went from shock to anger, then to embarrassment, followed by awe, disbelief and a sudden realisation, and final back to shock.

The stand off is over.