Black powder and lace
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
When the entire universe is stacked against you, all you can do is change the game.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: We get another glimpse into the makeup of the world, a little tiny smidgen of politics, and another moment between our two young lovers. This also begins the introduction of the primary crisis for the story.

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Mar recovered before the group of Genin soldiers, "In the name of the king…"

That was as far as she got. The group of soldiers around Lord Amherst charged, drawing swords as they came. In a running battle, having your swords already drawn gives you a momentary advantage. Sometimes a moment is all that you need.

"Musketeers! To Me!" Mar yelled, a bit of her normal soprano creeping in, but she no longer cared. She was fighting and that's all that mattered.

The first opponent to reach her tried to parry her blow with his mailed arm, as his sword was tangled in its sheath. She ducked out of the way of his counter blow and used his own momentum to impale him on her sword. His twisting body yanked her sword from her grasp, but also freed his sword. She drew it and went onto the next foe.

A man was advancing on Sikes flank so she slashed her new sword across his hamstrings allowing Sikes the advantage.

She turned in time to barely avoid a slash to her ribs. Her leather over shirt was cut, but the mail middle shirt took most of the lethality out of the blow, but she would be feeling it tomorrow. She grinned at her opponent. There were different styles of combat used for each type of foe you would be fighting. Whether they were wearing mail or plate or nothing at all, there was a style that helped you to get through their defenses.

Her opponents lapse was her gain. A quick, but powerful, thrust and she watched the back of his tabard tent away from his body. She quickly removed her sword and then she was surrounded by the green of her company and the remaining enemy soldiers were throwing down their arms.

"Looks like you're going to need a new tabard, sir."

Mar ignored Sikes and walked over to Lord Amherst.

"I demand you release me!"

"Lord Amherst, you were accepting money…"

"All you have is your word. How will the king know that it wasn't you and your men who were accepting the bribe for getting these soldiers into the city."

"Lord Amherst. You may very well say that later, and impugn my honor. I dare say you might even get the king to listen to it. However, know this, if I ever hear about it then I will meet you on Harral's Field and I will get satisfaction."

Lord Amherst paled visibly, even in the poor light of the lantern, at the almost casual mention of one of the cities more notorious dueling pitches. It had not been a casual reference by her colonel that she was a duelist.

When she first entered service in the company there had been others, soldier and officer alike, who thought her weak and unfit for service. One had even called her a woman. She defended her position well and left every duel she'd ever been in without a scratch on her. She always chose death and not blood. For a while people had even started to call her Angel of Death.

Some of this must have come back to the Lord as he stood there. He began to tremble a bit, and even turned and vomited. Her men laughed at him.

Corporal Laramie pulled rope out of thin air, like usual, and tied their prisoners together for the walk to King's Prison on the other side of the city.

Mar grimaced when she realized that she was making a slight clinking sound when she walked. The chain middle shirt was freed a bit and rattling as she walked. Depending on the extent of the damage to the leather over the top she'd likely just have to apply a bit of resin to bind the leather over and under together and then sew up the cut. The armor was heavy, but worth the protection it afforded, especially when it tricked an opponent into a misstep like tonight.

For a moment or two after she woke up, Anhelette was disoriented. The dream been so real. She still felt the joy of Mar's arms wrapping around her, and being accepted for everything that she was. She shook her head angrily and got up to prepare for Caleene. Her maid may have helped her with all of the over garments and corsets and such, but Anhelette took care of getting properly situated in all of her under garments.

"What I wouldn't give for a nice pair of briefs at this point. Even a bra would be a welcome change…"

"What's a bra, Anhelette?"

"A wonderful invention I was introduced to since leaving my homeland. Beats a corset for support any day of the week."

"Support?"

Anhelette gestured toward her breasts and Caleene blushed.

"Well, let's get me ready for the day, Caleene, and if you could possibly consider letting me breathe a bit I'd much appreciate it."

Caleene just laughed as she began pulling the corset tight.

"Ale, we were friends. How could you do this to me…to our city?"

"When are you and the other families going to look up from your knees and see that we're already lost. Genin is not just a city but a nation. Three…In the past year they've captured three other cities."

"Through treachery and the greed of its nobles no doubt," Mar said from the other side of the room. "They would have no reason to try to bribe you if they didn't feel that there was something in it for them."

"They told me it was to ease the transition. I would be the governor, as they put it, of this city."

"You would govern your people for this foreign power? You would sell us out of a handful of gold and a promise of power?" Colonel Henries could barely contain his rage. "We are a city of over ten thousand, Ale. We field an army to rival any two other cities. Our foundry is the best of any city in the world. And you would sell us out to a third rate city with a couple of towns to its name? You are worse than a traitor, Ale, you are a fool."

"They took the first city by force, Kei. You know the rumors going about. They were firing up to ten shots per minute per cannon."

Mar snorted. There was no way that the rumors could be accurate. A well trained team to get shots off every twenty-five seconds or so. Even then, there was the very real danger of the gun just bursting on them. A smart commander shot once every couple of minutes.

But ten shots per minute? Six seconds per shot?

Impossible.

"You think I lie, Lieutenant? I saw them firing myself. They told me that it was a relaxed rate of fire, but I counted five shots from a single cannon before my watch showed a single minute had gone by."

"Get the matron in here, Mar. I think we need to talk to the women about this."

Mar ran out through the door and up six flights of stairs to where the Matron sat in her office. Mar wondered where all of his reverence for the office had gone. As a young girl, Mar had been afraid to breathe every time that the matron came to their home. She had been such an august personage.

Now, Mar realized that her only power existed in the minds of the women who put themselves under her power. She wasn't even really part of the government. More just a high level bureaucrat.

"Matron," Mar said, a bit out of breath, "We have need of some women to verify the prisoner's story."

Requests like this were uncommon, but not unheard of. The matron smiled at Mar.

"You know I realize now where I've seen you before. I saw you practicing the sword in your father's salle d'armes one day. Of course your attire was much more…traditional, shall we say?"

Mar stood there gaping.

"Close your mouth, dear. I was never one to stand by tradition for much of anything. I doubt any of the other ladies really remembers you, as you were always climbing a tree, or practicing your swordsmanship. You never enjoyed our company much, did you?"

Mar just shook her head with a little grimace of disgust.

"Well…Mar was it? One word of caution. Be careful about showing your affections for the Livingston girl. While you may be able to survive…the scandal of it, I doubt she would be. She already has a mark against her as a foreigner after all. Then there's the matter of her hair," the matron said with a little sniff.

"The prisoner, Matron?"

"You know what gave you away, Mar? None of the other men add that tone of deference when saying my title."

Mar laughed and the Matron joined her.

"I'll do what I can to belittle your office…matron."

"See that you do, Mar."

The matron entered the parlor alone, as Mar had left her to go back to the dungeon under the Palace of Justice. That they would house most of the bureaucracy of the city in the same place had always been a little incongruous to the Matron, but she was not one to turn down the beautiful offices that they had assigned to her. "Anhelette and Natallia. Your presence is requested at Justice."

"But Matron, they have never requested the presence of two before…"

"Natallia, I chose two. Anhelette does not have time to be properly instructed in her duties to the city, so I've decided that observation would serve best. You are the one I have chosen, and she is there to see how you go about your duties."

"Yes, Matron."

"Both of you should probably change, since the prisoner is being kept in the dungeon. Brown woolens would be best."

Anhelette began to worry a bit. All of the clothing sent with her was…elegant. Designed to be seen and not worked. No one on the ship had ever dreamed that they would have her crawling around in a dungeon.

"You have a question, Anhelette?"

"I don't have…"

"That's alright, Matron, I have a dress that will suit her." Natallia said with a bit of a glimmer in her eye. Anhelette was relieved, but unsure as to the cost that this little offering would exact.

"Come, Anhelette, we've no time to waste."

There had been moments when Anhelette was sure she was going to show off more than she felt comfortable with, but in the end, and covered in what Anhelette was sure was out of fashion clothing, Anhelette stood looking at herself. Natallia's flash of anger was gratifying as well, if not for the reasons that another girl might have had.

Anhelette knew that her face was too angular to ever be truly beautiful, especially by this societies standards, but she had to admit that her body looked sexy even in what amounted to sackcloth.

"Tie up your hair with this, Anhelette. It will tend to prevent getting anything in it that you wouldn't like. You know how borers like untreated hair."

Anhelette blinked a couple of times, and then everything fell into place. These people didn't dye their hair for fashion. They did it for their health. Anhelette blushed as she wondered whether the girl standing next to her dyed all of her hair.

"I didn't know."

Natallia looked at her confused for a few moments, and then her jaw fell open. "You mean…we just thought you either self absorbed or insanely brave. They don't have borers where you're from?"

More than you know, Anhelette thought to herself. She just shook her head.

"Well, then, we might just have to get your hair treated before we head back there the next time. It stinks to high heaven but it protects you."

"All of my hair?"

Natallia looked shocked and blushed bright red when the import of her words finally got through. "Of course not…all of our undergarments are properly treated. As are these dresses we're wearing. I keep trying to convince the Chemists to come up with a treatment that doesn't dye everything brown, but what can you expect. They are more interested in new perfumes than in something no one will ever see…"

Natallia blushed at this.

"Except for your husband?"

"Or your Lieutenant."

It was Anhelette's turn to blush.

Natallia laughed. "I'm sorry for my previous behavior, Anhelette. It's not every day that a woman with the body of an angel comes and declares that she actually is an angel to everyone."

Anhelette opened her mouth to speak, but Natallia stopped her. "Don't worry about it, Anhelette. I know that's not your real name, and if you don't want…"

"Minerva," Anhelette said, almost without thinking. It had been her mother's name, and no matter what Natallia thought she wanted, Anhelette was sure that her real name would have caused problems. It's not every day that your name just happens to be the same as a peoples prime devil.

Hence the reason that the captain had thought it would be funny to give her the name of Anhelette.

"That…is so foreign sounding. I'll stick with Anhelette if you don't mind," Natallia looked at Anhelette expectantly. Anhelette shook her head so Natallia continued, "I can almost believe that you are from as far away as you claim. This will be something for the Naturists to consider. They believe that borers were endemic to the human condition on this world."

Natallia colored and shut her mouth. Anhelette didn't even notice the other woman's discomfort as the words passed by her without note. Anhelette already knew that mankind had not originated here after all.

Natallia helped Anhelette to pile her hair into the cloth cap, and made sure all of her hair was completely covered. After pronouncing her 'more beautiful than is fair,' the two women made their way out into the world.

"Oh good. They're here."

Mar looked up in reflex to the women entering the room, and her breath caught. Anhelette stood there, covered from head to toe in brown, and still she looked amazing. Upon seeing Mar, Anhelette smiled. Mar let a foolish grin slip out before she could return to a suitably reserved expression.

Anhelette walked over to stand next to Mar as she waited to see what would happen.

"Lord Amherst!" Natallia called out as she turned to see who the prisoner was.

"Ale has been stripped of his title and lands, and his wife will be joining him here in short order. You are here to verify his claims of the enemies capabilities," the colonel said.

"His claims?"

Mar spoke up, "he states that Genin has a cannon that is capable of a sustained rate of fire greater than two shots per minute."

"I said ten," the man in chains wailed. If any part of his story proved false, he knew what the punishment was.

"And then claimed to have only seen five," Mar replied.

Natallia was shocked, "Sir, there is no way that a cannon can keep up that rate of fire."

"Thank you, Natallia…"

"Wait!"

All eyes turned on Anhelette. She tried to shrink into the wall, but it was too late to take back her outburst.

"You have something to add, Anhelette," the Matron asked.

Anhelette tried to think fast. She knew that the sort of information she would be giving to these people would change everything. They were already progressing far faster than they should be, or was even healthy. This city had been picked as it seemed to be the furthest advanced of any of its neighbors. They were the only one with matchlocks after all.

But this…she wracked her brain, trying to remember what type of gun, of this period…

Then she smiled. She didn't need specifics. They didn't want her to build one for them. She just needed to bring up the possibility.

"Matron, if they were loading the cannon from the breech as opposed to the muzzle, then it is possible they would be able to load faster. As far as sustained fire, bronze or steel would be the best way to do that."

"Bronze?" The matron asked, but the colonel laughed.

"Of course. It's less brittle, more malleable. I'd think that it would be unsuited to cannon, though, for that reason," the colonel said as he jumped into the conversation.

"It needs to be retooled occasionally to keep the bore correct, sir, but Bronze will work as a material to make cannon."

The prisoner, however, was looking at her as if she were an apparition of some sort.

"How did you know?" he whispered.

"Know what?" Anhelette asked.

"It was a rear loading cannon. I would have taken that to my grave as my revenge, but you…you couldn't have known that."

"So you were lying to us, lord Amherst."

The prisoner's look of anger was replaced by one of horror. "Have the jailers come and take this filth away," the colonel said to Mar who immediately left.

"Miss Livingston, I believe that it is time that you and I had a long chat. Matron, if you would be so kind?"

Color drained from Anhelette's face as the Matron and colonel gestured for her to precede them through the door.