Regardless, by the middle of this month, both the indigenous Turkmen and the traveling Saracen and Persian merchants were bewildered to find a portrait of a kind-faced, heroic Saracen elder hanging at the entrance of every mosque.
"Who is this?" countless question marks popped into the Muslims' heads.
To this, the officials sent by their Christian lord to manage them replied, "Isn't this your prophet?"
"??????"
Even more question marks appeared above the Muslims' heads.
But just as the mullahs among them were about to have angry exclamation marks pop into their heads over this, a message that made their feelings even more complicated reached their ears: "By the way, according to the new decree from Caesar Manuel, starting next month, all infidels under his rule must pay the infidel tax." The official added.
"Huh!?" Before these mullahs could react, the Bosporus taxi soldiers gathered fully armed, using a show of force to suppress these restless Islam clerics.
Let's turn the clock back to nearly a week ago—
That morning, after deciding to indeed commission portraits of the Muslim prophet in Muslim-populated areas, Manuel, during a small banquet on the terrace with David, also determined where these portraits would be hung.
"Let's hang these full-body portraits at the entrances of their mosques, and they should be oil paintings. As for the face, it should reference their scriptures and historical records, as well as the current patriarch of the Zawzum family who controls Mecca and Medina…"
Watching his cousin seriously thinking about how to perfect this measure, David couldn't help but break into a sweat. "No, Your Majesty, are you serious? To hang such portraits, which are clearly blasphemous to their doctrine, at the entrances of their temples, will nothing really go wrong? No, this will absolutely cause problems!"
However, thinking of Manuel's promise to deploy troops in advance to resolve potential issues, David could only cautiously believe that doing so should not cause large-scale riots.
"Speaking of which, allowing them to retain their original faith is already a great grace. Since that's the case, let them make a small contribution to the national treasury in Pontus as well. If possible, building a few orthodox churches among them to rally support would also be very good." This statement immediately shocked David. Although he had heard that infidels in the Tauris Peninsula had to pay taxes for their infidel beliefs, he never expected it to be applied to Pontus so quickly.
Although economically, this was indeed beneficial, but hanging a full-body portrait of Muhammad at the mosque entrance, imposing an infidel tax on them, and building churches among them—did his cousin not intend to genuinely appease them? This was practically riding roughshod over them, encouraging the Islam followers to rebel.
"Saint Mary, is it really alright?" David finally voiced his concerns worriedly.
"It's fine," Manuel simply smiled casually at his cousin's worries, "Among the crescent worshiper regimes in Anatolia and Caucasus, the Ottoman are busy fighting Karaman, Ramazan, Dulkadir, and the Mamluk behind them. Kandar, having been crippled, dares not offend, and the White Sheep Dynasty is locked in fierce combat with the Black Sheep Dynasty. They all have their own lives; where would they find the energy to pretend to be righteous for the Turkmen under my rule?"
"No, I'm not referring to external issues, Your Majesty," cold sweat appeared on David's face, "Will we really not have internal problems?"
"Trust my army, David." To this, he merely smiled lightly, "Do you think I planned to send troops down in advance just to embolden the fellow lords?"
"!"
After seeing David off, Manuel did not return to the palace, but instead went straight out of the imperial palace to the Saint Sofia Church in Trabzon. He had arranged in advance with the local religious leader of Pontus to discuss important matters that day.
After dismissing all unrelated personnel and most of his guards, he quietly sent someone to inform that person of his arrival. Half a minute later, the Metropolitan of Pontus, or rather, the Patriarch of the Pontus Diocese, Metropolitan Makarios, appeared, dressed in an archbishop's robe.
"Your Majesty, this humble servant has been waiting for a long time." Facing this monarch who commanded both shores of the Black Sea and possessed extraordinary military and administrative prowess, the Metropolitan of Pontus, who was old enough to be Manuel's grandfather, involuntarily displayed a fawning smile on his face. If a member of the Komnenos family had seen this, they would likely have frowned on the spot: because ever since the civil war in Trabzon ended and the Komnenos family's authority weakened, very few Metropolitans had faced them with such an expression.
However, Manuel himself was not perturbed by this. After a brief joint prayer and polite exchanges, he went straight to the purpose of his visit, "Your Grace, Metropolitan Makarios, I have come this time because I still need your assistance with one matter."
These words immediately made Metropolitan Makarios's gray-black eyes widen. One must know that Caesar had been in Asia Minor for so long, and apart from trivial and unnecessary official duties and essential ceremonial occasions, he had never discussed much with him. Even in the two new cabinet positions Caesar established in Pontus, there was no place for him, the Patriarch of the diocese. Just as he thought his sense of presence had completely vanished, Caesar actually sought him out personally, and this was the first time this accomplished monarch had ever approached him.
Just as Metropolitan Makarios was happily fantasizing about his future position by Caesar Manuel's side, his Majesty had already instructed his personal attendant to retrieve a file he had prepared earlier and handed it to the excited Metropolitan, "Your Grace, please take a look at this file."
Half an hour later, Metropolitan Makarios's face became extremely awkward, "Your Majesty, the Inquisition is to be expanded to Pontus? You must be joking, right?"
As a church official, he had naturally heard about the Inquisition Manuel had set up in Tauris. Although it hadn't caused major trouble yet, Metropolitan Makarios still keenly sensed its potential to weaken the church's power and prestige. Unless absolutely necessary, he had no intention of letting the Pontus Diocese become the monarch's scapegoat in religious policy, like the Chersonese Diocese, even if no blame had been assigned to them yet.
But these words were immediately swallowed back when he saw the gentle smile on Manuel's face. Looking at Caesar, who was smiling so brightly and gently at this moment, this once powerful Patriarch felt in an instant that the other party was absolutely more terrifying than a billion murderers!
Finally, he could only ask softly: "Your Majesty, can a few clauses be slightly altered?"
"The Chersonese Diocese has the same version, Holy Father witness." Manuel still had a gentle smile on his face.