'Lorenzo? What's going on?'
'Peppercorn rent! Don't you see?' Lorenzo the inventor. launched himself gaily down the stairs. 'The entire population has just negotiated a severe cut in pay!'
The young man raced off to collect his newly-announced bride, leaving Luccio and Princess Krrrr-poka blinking at the dim, deserted hall.
'Meeting is brought to order! Will all counsellors please prepare to render forth their vote?'
Lomatra's fat Blade Captain hammered on the meeting table, utterly ignoring his prince; men drew their blades, preparing to hold them aloft or cast them down to indicate their vote. Gazing up at the empty audience galleries, Lomatra's prince bleated in alarm.
'Wait! The audience has not arrived.'
'An unneeded distraction; I have ordered them barred from the hall.' Blade Captain Spirelli extended his eye- stalks with a silky smile. 'Our business will be easier without them.
'Vote!'
'W-wait!' The prince leapt forward as the men reached for their blades once more. 'Perhaps we should read the minutes of our last session?'
Spirelli jerked his eyestalks, then let them angrily extend.
'We all remember the last meeting. It is all perfectly fresh and clear. I must insist that the vote be taken and emissaries be dispatched to the Svarezi camp forthwith!'
The sounds of a mob clamored at the council gates. A soldier shouted a warning, then babbled as he was forcibly moved aside. The heavy doors slammed open, and a mighty mob of common citizens surged into the room, hooting and cheering the strange procession of figures at their head.
A girl, an inventor, and a giant bird; a courtier and a female nixie in a clear glass tank formed the spearhead of the charge. Blade Captains leapt to their feet and drew their swords, halting in place as they saw themselves outnumbered by hundreds to one.
Gleefully adjusting her spectacles, Miliana faced the warlords with a grin. At her side, Lorenzo made a delighted bow.
'Greetings! We have news for the Blade Council of Lomatra!'
'Revolution!' Spirelli recoiled, a look of pure horror in his prehensile eyes. 'The guard will never stand for this. The army will have you hung!'
'Not a revolution; a reevaluation!' Miliana held aloft a scroll, protected by a giant bird and a brace of blacksmiths armed with hammers and quarterstaves.
Next to Miliana, a Blade Captain raised his sword with a snarl of rage. Miliana pointed a finger and cast her feather fall spell, then grabbed the armored man with one small hand and effortlessly threw him through the air.
'Odd.' Luccio watched Miliana's performance with a pained expression on his face. 'You know-I don't think real feather fall spells work quite the way she thinks…'
Luccio's watery companion nodded agreement from her tank, then settled back to watch the show.
Princess Miliana, late of Sumbria, made a great production of quoting from her scroll.
'Let it be known that these, the undersigned, being citizens of Lomatra, do hereby enlist in the regiment of infantry raised by Lorenzo Utrelli Da Lomatra-being paid the rate of one peppercorn per year! They have all just been paid in full.' Miliana spilled the scroll all over the floor. 'There are eight thousand signatures there right now, with another four or five thousand on the way. The guilds are making their own regiments-and so are the city wives! They're electing captains to represent them in council even as we speak!' Miliana planted a fist on one bony hip in glee. 'That's more votes than the rest of the army combined!'
'There're no votes here!' Spirelli oozed indignant bubbles from his shell, 'These aren't soldiers… they're just a rabble!'
'Not so.' Lorenzo had settled himself on a table, and was helping his confused prince flip through pages in Lomatra's Articles. 'According to the Articles of Association, any annually paid, armed body of Lomatran citizens who swear oath to accept the command of another Lomatran citizen are deemed to be a legitimate regiment.' The citizens of Lomatra growled behind him, shaking their collection of pitchforks, brickbats and quarterstaves. 'These doughty citizens are armed, they have sworn allegiance, and they have all just been given their pay!' All across the hall and back into the streets, people held aloft their token peppercorns. 'The Brigade of House Utrelli is, therefore, eight thousand strong! And our voice now carries eight thousand votes!
'I believe we shall now hear from House Utrelli's new political advisor.'
Miliana bowed cordially to Lorenzo, allowed Tekoriikii to sweep her clean a seat, and made a place for herself at the council table.
'And now, gentlemen, I think his highness the prince had some very, very definite views of his own as to how the city affairs should be run. And for once, I think his council will listen with respect.' A growl came from the citizens flocking the streets outside, and Miliana smiled happily as Lorenzo placed his hands on her shoulders from behind.
'Gentlemen? Let us see some of your military acumen in action. We have-at most-six weeks before Svarezi's army arrives.'
15
Lomatra's preparations for war turned the winter into a frenzy of activity-most of which seemed to involve shouting. Soldiers drilled with pikes and crossbows, shouted at by sergeants of the guard; militia units formed, all yelling as they argued over who got the helmets with the cheek pieces, and who had to wear the breastplate with the holes. In the council chambers, the new age of 'peppercorn democracy' led to wholesale hollering as citizen delegates bandied invective back and forth across the floor. Stuck in the middle of the whole madhouse, Miliana spent her days organizing helpless soldiers and her evenings searching for a headache-curing spell.
The primary cause of the headache was the sheer magnitude of the task in front of them. The alliance of the minor Blade Kingdoms could muster quite a busy little army, but they were still greatly outnumbered by Svarezi's minions. The market had been scoured of mercenaries, and militia units were of doubtful utility. Miliana refused to panic, and instead placed her faith in the fruits of Lorenzo's fertile mind.
As midwinter passed and astral-traveling scouts reported the concentration of Ugo Svarezi's regiments, Miliana convened a meeting in the Besotted Python's taproom. Eager as puppies, Miliana, Tekoriikii, Luccio and his watery princess sat at a table and watched as Lorenzo proudly unshipped a mighty roll of plans.
Dressed in a trim blue gown and her fine, impressive hat, Miliana steepled up her fingers and brightly awaited Lorenzo's offerings.
'Well? So what have you invented?'
'Lots of things! We can dazzle the enemy with the products of our minds.'
Luccio, Miliana, and the nixie princess all gathered around an excited Lorenzo. Tekoriikii sat in the wrought iron chandelier above, hanging his long neck down to stare this way and that as the young inventor proudly spread out the harvest of his genius.
There were drawings of earth borers, of reaping machines and rocket-assisted swords. There were smoke powder guns and spears and things with prongs. Lorenzo had even designed boots fitted with little wheels for rapid troop deployment: a hundred fantastic new inventions that would win him fame for a hundred thousand years.
… And very little that would stop a horde of pikemen walking straight over Lomatra's walls. Overhead, Tekoriikii bobbed his plumes and fixed the diagrams with a puzzled yellow eye.
'Gronk nonk! Onkie-doodle gronk nonk!'
Lunch arrived; beans and sausages baked in a ceramic pot. Miliana heaved out a sigh and began to jam a spoon into their midday meal. Lorenzo looked avidly from face to face, wondering why he had not yet been overwhelmed with applause.
'But, don't you see? Can't you imagine what an army could achieve if it was equipped with all of these?' The inventor rose up to his feet with an impassioned cry. 'The wheel-boots, and the retractable stilts for fording streams
