CHAPTER 19 #3
Although the information wasn’t yet confirmed, the Medici's network had already been activated to verify the departure time from that side. Hedy hoped they could confirm things on their end as soon as possible.
"You?" Luris sized her up, noting her smooth, milky white skin and the obviously untouched, perfect features of someone who hadn't endured much hardship. She furrowed her brows. "You want to participate in a war?"
"Not participate." Hedy took a sip of her wine, her tone calm and relaxed. "Control."
The young mercenary leader rolled her eyes and stood up to leave. "What a na?ve and unrealistic fantasy."
As she was heading for the door, Leonardo entered holding a strange-looking firearm. He glanced at Hedy, who was sipping her wine and reading a newspaper. "All done with the discussion?"
"What is this?" Luris eyed the unusual firearm warily. She noticed it didn’t even have a match cord, and the connections had complex, unfamiliar mechanisms. This wasn’t any gun she had ever seen.
"Hmm?" Hedy took another sip of her drink while continuing to read the paper. "You can leave now, Mr. Zino."
Da Vinci's first instinct was to glance at her throat, raising an eyebrow at the title she had used.
Luris immediately began putting her helmet and false mustache back on, revealing only her eyes.
"We should discuss this business," she said.
The business discussion soon moved from the room to outside the ranch.
A couple of years later, the flintlock rifle, designed jointly by Da Vinci and Hedy, had undergone several adjustments to its bullets and trajectory. It could easily pierce through an iron door.
When Leonardo shot a wild donkey that happened to pass by, the impact sent it flipping wildly across the ground. Hedy, standing in the back, kindly reminded him, "Mr. Zino, opening your mouth too wide can dislocate your jaw."
None of the mercenaries present recognized this new weapon, but its power was enough to make them instinctively step back in fear.
How could something like this exist?
The wild donkey's chest had been blown open, and the distance and speed of the damage were so incredible that the onlookers could hardly believe their own eyes.
"If you offer a discount, we can consider renting these weapons to you—of course, we'll need to reclaim them once the time comes," Hedy said calmly.
"Reclaim them?" Luris tried to reason with her. "Don't you think this idea is a bit naive?"
"Mr. Zino," Hedy replied slowly, "we will bring in a few smaller mercenary bands. If you breach the contract, I believe they would be more than happy to divide you up."
"You—" Luris spat, turning away. "Fine, we'll sign it today."
Her older brother seemed a little unsure. "Weren’t you looking down on this idea when you came here?"
"Stop talking nonsense!" Luris snapped.
It became clear that the mercenaries were even more fanatic about firearms than they had imagined.
Da Vinci went into full preparation mode, pulling out many of the supplies stored in the cellar to air out in the sun. Even their experienced housekeeper, Atalante, began to wonder just how many cellars they had hidden around the property.
From flintlock rifles to detachable cannons, to the massive movable crossbow still under construction, half of the ranch had turned into a weapons testing ground. The targets, destroyed or shot up daily, piled up and were burned as firewood.
By the end, Hedy had recruited over 8,000 men, most of whom were disorganized and undisciplined.
While many of them had leaders, those leaders could only give broad instructions, with the men all getting their share of the spoils at the end.
This setup resembled a parasitic relationship—appearing strong like the ox, but once the blood was sucked dry, the leaders would flee.
They eagerly changed employers, seeking profit in the chaos of war, and in peacetime, they would rob and harass without rest.
Hedy pondered this for a moment and devised a management system more suited for this era.
— Clear military ranks and positions, with defined roles and divisions.
"There should be a sufficiently clear training plan," she said, drawing a circle as she spoke. "Atalante, have them clear out a training ground today."
This was her largest ranch, but housing 8,000 men was proving to be quite a challenge.
However, Hedy was always resourceful, and managing their food, drink, and other needs was something she had no trouble with.
With the right leadership in place, mercenaries and hired workers weren’t so different.
Hedy directed the men to clear the uncultivated land outside the estate, constructing wooden buildings as dormitories and even teaching them how to build bunk beds.
The 8,000 men were divided into six separate units, and the leaders of the various groups were given more noticeable and prestigious titles and military ranks.
From logistics to reconnaissance, from firearms to cavalry, not only were the functional boundaries and military merit distribution methods clearly defined, but there were also officers in charge of educating each unit on their roles and duties.
The Medici scouts quickly got wind of the situation and sent a secret letter with news about the French forces.
— The advance units had already departed a month ago, and it was expected that they would begin arriving on the western side of the Apennine Peninsula in about four months.
Upon receiving the news, Hedy showed no signs of panic. Instead, she called together the unfamiliar commanders for a meeting and had Dechio, now the chief secretary, grant them their military ranks and uniforms.
The ceremony was important.
Rituals, honor, ceremony, identity—people often unknowingly step into certain roles and identities, which creates a divide between them and those beneath them.
The once rowdy and smelly mercenaries quickly discovered that they not only had to deal with odd training routines every day but also had to wake up early to chop wood or mine.
The reconnaissance team had to undergo intense running drills, while the musketeers were all required to pass vision tests. The entire camp was busy, yet orderly.
Hedy’s finances were not only well-balanced but were also steadily expanding.
She raised the prices of several goods, and deliberately reduced the output of purple dye, yet prices kept rising.
Merchants inside and outside the city complained, but they had no means to resist her monopoly.
Meanwhile, Da Vinci, along with the craftsmen, was continuously improving and experimenting with weapons. In the spare moments between designing mechanical and armor blueprints, he was also pondering another question that had no clear answer—
What exactly controls the explosive power of gunpowder?
Is it the ratio? The material of the casing? The firing mechanism? The ignition temperature?
Years earlier, Da Vinci had designed a small explosive that could scatter iron fragments, but now, as he conducted further experiments, he often felt as though he was standing on the threshold of a great discovery, only to be met with confusion and failure.
At times, he felt he'd found the right direction, only for the path to slip away just as quickly.
Two months into the training, Hedy issued the order for the army to march, heading toward the southwest town of Luka.
She wasn’t about to waste time. She needed to establish a presence at one of the key strategic points where the French forces would inevitably set their sights.
In the historical Italian-French War, King Charles VIII of France had led an army of 30,000 to 40,000 soldiers over the Alps, marching south from Milan to Florence.
However, this time, according to the scouts' reports, the French forces were coming by sea, but there could be no absolute certainty—whether by sea or land, they would inevitably have to seize one of the most crucial strongholds, Luka.
Luka had been a key point Hedy emphasized repeatedly when she first became a Florentine councilor.
Located near four countries, with its southern borders touching the sea, the city had a strong port and an extremely strategic position.
Luka was not far from Pisa, which had already been fortified with troops. If a battle broke out, it would be much easier to defend.
In the worst-case scenario, they could retreat south to defend Florence, preserving the city.
But if the war went in their favor, they could press on and capture several small cities along the coast.
Hedy had clearly thought through all possible outcomes, and her communication with Lorenzo was frequent and ongoing.
— Michelangelo and Raphael had collaborated on a design for armor, improving its ability to protect against stabbing and arrow wounds while significantly reducing its weight.
When Da Vinci saw the design sketch, he sighed deeply with relief. He barely exchanged a word with Hedy before rushing off to find the old craftsman, Fabio, with the design in hand.
The main force officially broke camp, taking nearly twenty days to reach the town of Luka.
The lord of the town was a nervous middle-aged man, nearly bald.
"Fight—fight a war?" He repeated the word nervously, shaking his head. "You... you should find another place to stay. Luka is a city of peace. Nothing has happened here for over a hundred years—there will be no war here! We are a neutral country!"
Luris rolled her eyes, trying to argue with him to make the situation clear, but Hedy raised her hand to stop her. With a smile, she calmly confirmed, "So, what you’re saying, sir, is that you are neither willing to send us reinforcements nor allow us to stay here for long?"
The lord let out a long sigh, nodding repeatedly. "That's right."
"Mr. Zino," Hedy's smile deepened. "You may go ahead and tie him up."
Soon, the cries of the lord echoed through the castle.
The entire army took control of the "peaceful, neutral" town in just two hours. After all, this country had very few mercenaries, and the citizens who should have been conscripts had already locked their doors and shut their windows, indifferent to the chaos.
— After all, they were neutral.
The castle was quickly cleared out to serve as the command center and barracks. The ragtag soldiers of Luka were all incorporated into the army and began helping to fortify the fortifications and clear the battlefield.
This city was coastal, and it was the first line of defense against the French fleet.
Choosing this location was both correct and dangerous for Hedy.
She had taken control of it purely to avoid the tedious and meaningless procedures.
Dealing with those stubborn and obsolete officials was a waste of time—sometimes, a more forceful approach could achieve the goal much faster.
However, a new development arose. Since the bald lord was thrown into the cellar, everyone started referring to Hedy by a new title.
"My Lord."
When Hedy first realized that people were calling her this, she originally wanted to explain and clarify that she had just temporarily taken the position, and when the army left, she would return the title to the unfortunate man.
However, nearly the entire army and the people of Luka seemed to accept her as the new lord, much like the way Sforza in Milan had allegedly ascended to power through the assassination of the previous ruler.
People looked at her with a bit more reverence. The army, under her command, was well-regulated and did not harass the local civilians before the war arrived. They behaved like good citizens, in contrast to their usual unruly nature.
Only Leonardo seemed to fully understand the situation. Every day when he reported to her on progress, he couldn’t help but smile.
He still treated her as a friend, not rushing to close the gap between them.
"This is yesterday's armament preparation report," he said, his brown eyes always carrying a slight teasing glint when they met hers, and his clear voice, naturally, had a touch of tenderness.
"—My lord."