Chapter Sixty-Two: The Arsenal of Democracy
The rest of the ceremony went more or less as planned. The new flag was raised, the tricolours flapping in the spring sun at the top of two points; the mast of the flagship and the highest tower of the keep. Old Glory came down, and was delivered respectfully into the hands of the waiting Army lieutenants; the Assembly had ruled that the Stars and Stripes were to be the military banner of the Republic instead. Probably because they knew I would be very displeased if it was abandoned completely.
We retired to the main Chantry, for another part of the ceremony. Fisher and I were placed to the right of the Chancellor and the Cabinet, the entirety including Julie having shown up. They were on the right side of the building, standing together as their public position required them to. We military types were on the left, Fisher in the place of honour in the centre beside the aisle, myself to his left, with the Army and Navy officers standing behind us.
Grand-Cleric Brandon sang an appropriate canticle, about Andraste's victories over Old Tevinter, lending her somewhat rough voice to the occasion very appropriately. The entire chamber chanted along too, myself included, it being a canticle I knew quite well. Shartan 10.
At Shartan's word, the sky
Grew black with arrows.
At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords
Rang from their sheaths.
A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly, proclaiming:
Those who had been slaves were now free.
The legion fell before them
Like wheat before the scythe,
But the armies of Tevinter were numberless,
A sea of death which crashed upon
The Prophet and her army like waves.
So, as the second verse was mid-stream in everyone's throats, who better to come waltzing in but Aurelia, in full Tiberian-Vinter battledress complete with gladius and naginata, although worn loosely and without her helmet. Brandon faltered only for a single breath, before increasing the volume of her chant, as if to exorcise the demon that had arrived. It didn't work, and Aurelia in fact joined in the chant as she pushed her way through the officers.
She arrived by my side as the chant ended, remaining the centre of attention for a minute or two before Brandon finally thought better of challenging her, and signalled for Lana to make her way to the front for the singing of the anthem.
"Why are you here?" I murmured to Aurelia, as Lana bowed to Velarana and Julie and then to us.
Aurelia did not respond before Lana launched into the first verse, the Army band at the back of the Chantry opening up on the tune with drum and fife.
Allons enfants de la Patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé!
"I have news," Aurelia said, standing on her toes to speak to me over the song, "News you need to hear first, and only you."
That was ominous to the point of sending a shiver down my back. It sounded personal, and my mind went straight to the obvious personal thing between us. I must have glanced down at her belly, because she understood what I was worrying about at once.
Contre nous de la tyrannie
L'étendard sanglant est levé,
L'étendard sanglant est levé!
Entendez-vous dans les campagnes
Mugir ces féroces soldats?
"Do not worry, it is not that," Aurelia soothed with a smile, "Events have overtaken the Chancellor's peace plans, and my own."
She handed me a note, which I read with some difficulty, as it was hand written in the dwarven script, clearly by someone in a great hurry.
Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras
Égorger vos fils, vos compagnes!
The reason for the hurry of the author became immediately evident. Something had happened that changed everything. The entire Chantry began to sing the chorus of the anthem, reading the lyrics from scripts handed out beforehand, describing accurately my immediate feeling.
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons!
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons!
To arms, citizens. Form your battalions. We march, so that impure blood waters the furrows of our fields. Appropriate words given the contents of the note, I thought with a sigh.
There was a shout of approval as the anthem ended, and a round of applause that lasted long enough for me to continue the conversation with some privacy.
"Why tell me first?" I asked, "This should be in the hands of the Chancellor."
"Because my family and I can no longer sit on the sidelines," Aurelia replied, "We will be joining the political arena as combatants, starting today. Peace is no longer a tolerable option." I could not agree more.
With that declaration, Aurelia broke ranks from the military section of the congregation and made her way to the raised podium. Lana scrambled to get out of her way, ending up in Julie's arms. Brandon did not, instead moving forward to intercept, until there was a graceful flourish of naginata, at which point the cleric backed off. The murmurs of the crowd swelled with every passing second.
Velarana looked about ready to boil over, but there wasn't a thing she could do.
My Tevinter bride reached the middle of the podium and spun on the spot to face everyone, planting the naginata's butt on the stone at her feet with a clink.
"I am sorry to interrupt," Aurelia declared, "But some things are too important to leave in the dark."
That shut everyone's mouths at once. Eyes sharpened to attention, ears pricked up.
"The Circle at Dairsmuid in Rivain has been annulled," she announced, "A week ago, every single Circle mage of Rivain was killed in cold blood by the Templars."
Outrage rose up in the crowd in a single gasp, from the Chancellor to the local citizenry chosen by lot to be there for the occasion. Julie looked over at me, with a glance at Velarana as if to say 'I told her so'.
Aurelia held up a hand to silence the crowd once more, succeeding, and continued.
"Two days ago, the College of Enchanters of the southern Circles voted for independence from the Chantry. The White Spire rose in revolt some weeks ago, news of which was suppressed but has now been leaked," she said gravely, "Lord Seeker Lambert has taken command of the Templar Order, declared its own independence from the Chantry, and declared war on the mages. It is thought that the Dairsmuid Circle was a pre-emptive strike."
Aurelia took in a long breath, before uttering her final pronouncement.
"As of this moment, every free mage in the South is a soldier in a war whether they like it or not."
The Tiberian diplomatic networks had got that last piece of news from Cumberland to us via magical communication, on something akin to an open radio channel. By now, anyone with a communication artefact likely knew about it too. Which was good, because it meant the mages in the Circles would know before the Templars would. They would need every piece of help they could get.
The Mage Rebellion had become the Mage-Templar War.
Velarana was put into a real bind by this announcement.
With so many mages living open lives in Troy, it was an absolute fact that the Templars would attempt to invade our new state. Not least because its High Chancellor was a mage herself. Between the new settlers from Orlais and the conflagration spreading to every Circle outside of Tevinter, war never seemed closer to breaking out.
And it was a war that many of us wanted to break out, or better yet, for us to seize the initiative on. My own enthusiasm was based on the fact that I found the very idea of the Circles to be utterly repellent, and I refused to have a dozen more Dairsmuids on my conscience. A dozen Circles were what I judged to be within striking distance of our military, and I wanted to go out and strike the Templars down.
The Libertarians under Julie and the Lucrosians under Leha largely agreed with my moral point, with the added extra of them wanting to secure the mage population of Thedas for the Republic's cause. Not only was magic not something to be feared, but simply it was too useful to throw away. This was boosted by the influx of citizens led back to us by Louise de Villars and Aoife, previous stalwarts of the Libertarian cause and Avvar tribespeople who had daily interaction with magic respectively.
Naturally, Aurelia and her relatives were incensed that a campaign of attempted magocide was under way. Aurelia and her people, now made citizens of the Republic, formed their own political fraternity under her leadership.
The Imperatores Fraternity, she called it. "Those that command" is the meaning, for those unversed in Ancient Tevene and unaware of Trojan political history.
Aurelia began openly speaking of invading and conquering as much of the Free Marches as possible, a pre-emptive measure to secure permanent peace. To subjugate any realm that aided the Templars. To make Troy such a power in the world that could protect mages and elves from any threat, a sister empire to Tevinter itself. They also openly advocated a return to monarchy, with heavy implications about who their choice of monarch would be.
They weren't likely to win votes among the rest of the population with ideas like that, they were extreme, but that wasn't the point. They intended to swing their existing weight around more formally, to push the war agenda in preparation for what they saw as inevitable, not to convince anyone else before the fact.
In fact, they probably helped to do the opposite. The Aequitarians wavered from day to day about the new reality, but the Jaderites were absolutely clear that they wanted no part in the Mage-Templar War. Not only did they see that as a declaration of war against the entire world, including the Divine herself, but their attitudes towards the mages were far more cool than the rest of the population's warmth. Most of Jader had traditional notions about magic, only partially broken down by the arrival of their exiles and the obvious benefits. Their tolerance of our mages was at a less developed stage.
With Jader remaining rock solid against war, Velarana was able to rally her own fraternity to the cause of maintaining the peace. The National Assembly voted on strict party lines to declare neutrality, going so far as to give permission to our own Templars to join their fellows if they wished. Brandon however forbid it, and was backed up by the Divine after consultation. Very few ended up leaving. Barris was among them, although he left to try and talk some sense into his comrades about separating from the Chantry. He was to be our man inside the Templars.
A simple declaration of neutrality was not going to be enough to convince our neighbours, so Velarana sent out offers to all the Marcher states to send delegates and diplomats, for a grand summit in Troy on the first day of May; Summerday.
The idea was to show everyone that we had no intention of declaring war on anyone, to ingratiate ourselves with our neighbours. In short, it was to be a three day long party for the entirety of the Republic, a break from the ceaseless construction work and the endless offloading of ships, the drilling of platoons, the manufacture of weapons.
As much as I wanted to go to war, I had to give credit to the High Chancellor, she chose her political tool well. Even the Libertarians decided to gleefully exploit the opportunity, as we shall see. That little detail was not the big thing that went wrong for Velarana, however.
Having spent the rest of April improving our defences by scouting out locations for forts, and then getting them built, I was away from the city for a few weeks.
Mariette managed to find a number of other eluvians, but the journey within the Crossroads to each of them was still considerable, and we were in the process of building another fortress within that realm to house them. So, most of that time, I was either travelling in the real world or in the pocket universe of the eluvians. And I would have preferred to get the work out of the way entirely, but I was recalled by magical beacon from the newly established Fort Ticonderoga on the border with Ostwick.
All so I could be in attendance for the Grand Conference.
Velarana sent out to almost everyone. For ambassadors from every sovereign power in Thedas. For representatives from every guild and trading company in the Free Marches. For academics from every institution of higher learning. For observers from Dalish clans and Orzammar.
Not everyone would turn up.
The Orlesian royalists and the Qun weren't invited, for a start, and wouldn't have come without some evil intent even if they had been. The Armada hadn't been invited either; Fisher planned to have his own little private war with them eventually, and Ianto was still a factor, however underestimated. Starkhaven and Tantervale refused their invitations to establish diplomatic relations, and sent letters as angry as it was possible to send while remaining diplomatic at all. Both were Chantry strongholds, and were ultraconservative as a result.
These refusals or exceptions did not stop the bulk sending their people, out of curiosity or genuine interest. Velarana's purpose seemed to have been fulfilled, to the point that her plan took on the appearance of an act of genius.
Even Ostwick, the only neighbour we had met with formally before this point, sent an envoy. Evelyn Trevelyan no less. All the other Marcher states sent envoys too, as did the University of Markham, acknowledged as maybe the greatest place of learning on Thedas with only Val Royeaux to rival it. Nevarra sent a death mage, one of the famous Mortalitasi. Antiva's royal family did not establish diplomatic relations, but the merchant families that actually ran that realm were less fussy and sent their own representatives, including the Montilyets. Orzammar sent a cousin of Leha's, as will become apparent.
Tevinter on the other hand had a very interesting response to the invitation. Rather than sending an ambassador, or even appointing one from among the Tiberii living with us, it instead named Aurelia Tiberia Valentina as Governor-Militant of Valhalla. Tiberius and Aurelia's parents had returned to Tevinter, via eluvian no less, to fulfil their obligations as members of the Magisterium. Apparently, those obligations included a formal legal annexation of Valhalla, as a guarantee that any declaration of war against us was a declaration of war against Tevinter itself. The Mage-Templar War had become quite the issue in the Imperium, and the Tiberian faction exploited it to the hilt.
It was of course a source of great amusement to all of us, but only because Aurelia herself had absolute power under Tevene law to run Valhalla as she saw fit and delegated that authority entirety to our existing and future constitutional structures. It seemed she had signed off on this personally, so she could announce it as a political gesture. She secured a Tevinter alliance without any real obligation on our part to come to the defence of the Imperium.
A massive coup, truth be told. The people were not insulted in the least that she had effective declared herself overlord, probably because her first and only act in that role was a glittering reaffirmation of popular and national sovereignty. Tying ourselves so closely to Tevinter was not without drawbacks, but we were alone in the world without them.
And so, Aurelia promoted herself just as diplomats from all over the continent were showing up to learn about us.
Our visitors stuck up their tents on the former location of Camp Jerusalem, under the early summer sun and the cannon of two of our defensive forts. Velarana had prioritised housing construction for our citizens, including the seven hundred or so that arrived from the Val Vert every day. Ten new houses were being put up every day, a new city block every three days. Every last room was needed for the refugees from the Dales, and Velarana made sure everyone knew that the space would go to them alone.
The political games that we had some relief of after our arrival had restarted with a vengeance.
This was the environment I found myself in. Our people were in the midst of considering the Libertarians and Aequitarians in new lights, while the Impera launched itself clean into the arena. Our visitors were everywhere, gawking at things, talking to anyone who would speak to them. Gathering intelligence, in truth. I often think that perhaps I should have shot a couple of the more egregious spies, pour encourager les autres.
There were few parts of the conference I was actually obliged to attend. Most were displays of our military discipline; the expert drilling of the Grenadiers, the expert shooting of the Rangers, various magical techniques for combat by the Foreign Legion, manoeuvres by the Highlanders. That sort of thing.
Of course, two particular events stand out; the two where Tam, Julie and I were shown off as much as the things we were supposed to be talking about.
The first was on the second day of the event; the showing of Mithril; the armaments factories and the advanced weapons they created. The objective here was to simultaneously scare the living shit out of the visitors and show them the sort of firepower our allies might one day wield.
I showed up at the factory site early, riding to the place to get there ahead of the crowds. Julie and Tam had already taken a carriage there even earlier still, as I had some Army business to attend to before.
The complex was far larger than when I had last seen it. Located about a kilometre from the site of the city, shielded by uncut forest to keep the pollution out, it was within the ring of forts and defence lines we had built but was now straining to remain so.
The buildings were the only ones made of anything other than wood, built instead of magically fired brick or hastily finished granite blocks, again magically ripped from the Isle of Dogs just across the bay. The roughness of their construction meant they were also the ugliest buildings in the entire settlement. Inside was all the equipment we ripped from the foundries in Hearth and had brought with us.
I approached the main gate with Soprano and McNulty, as the factory had its own garrison and palisade, only to be stopped by the guards, as was their duty. Their weapons were held at rest, their round helmets tucked under their arms. Pointed ears revealed, in other words.
"Marquis, Generals," the sergeant in charge greeted us, with a salute, "You're early. Thought you'd be arriving with the great and good, my lord."
"Are we not the great and good?" Soprano asked mockingly, flicking her long black hair off her shoulder.
"Not like them, ma'am," the sergeant grinned back, "They prance around, not even wearing masks when they look down at us, like they're better than us... begging your pardon ma'am."
I grimaced, seeing that Velarana's rhetoric had soaked in deep with this lot.
"I wonder if we should start wearing masks?" McNulty joked, "Remind them of who they are dealing with?"
I graced the man with my number one officer glare, to discourage the notion, to which he responded with a smile of apology.
"No offence taken," I said flatly, turning back to the picket soldiers, "As the High Chancellor would say, we're democratic, Orlesian, and independent. Sergeant, where is my wife?"
Referring to Julie in this case, as this was her playground.
"Which one?" one of the soldiers asked in confusion. A ripple of laughter went through the other two, because the question was stupid to say the least. They were together more often than not, especially now.
"The Lady Marquise is in the central square, my lord," the sergeant answered, "Inspecting shells. The Warden-Commander is standing well away, she doesn't trust the things to not explode at random. Not sure I'd like it either, standing around them, I mean."
Amused by Tam's caution, I smiled widely, which the sergeant took as me finding him funny. We went on past, between two of the storage buildings, and into the main courtyard. The space was levelled, the paving stone magically cut to be flat but irregularly shaped, so there was dirt gaps.
It overlooked the sea, the beach where the pirates' frigates had been laid up, and the Isle of Dogs, because the walls around the complex hadn't been built yet nor had the final building that would eventually block off the view. At the end of the paved part, the various artillery pieces stood in mute readiness, a cluster of Tranquil standing around assembling blast shields out of wooden logs behind some of them. Some distance off in a corner near the westernmost building was a series of long tables, with chairs facing the sea and plates of covered food ready for the guests.
The rest of the courtyard was filled with the artillery shells stood in row after row, hundreds of them, like something growing in a field. A crop of death.
Standing in the middle of them was Julie, in a fine set of loose-fitting red Libertarian robes. Unusual garb for her to say the least, but the reason for it was simple. The baby was now showing, the curve in her belly protruding from the robes below her chest. She was moving along slowly among the shells, checking each for imperfections.
Behind, sitting at the tables with about a dozen Libertarian factory technicians, Tam sat observing the whole scene. The tables were lined with weapons at one end and trays of snacks, meaty ones for the most part.
No mage robes for Tam; no one had any that would have fit her to begin with. Instead, she was sunning herself and her own baby bump more directly, wearing her signature black cross-weave that exposed much of her upper body, with some modified trousers. It was certainly warm enough for it. She had my sunglasses pushed up onto her forehead, not in use as she was in the shade. She also seemed to be eating something but immediately hid what it was on seeing me, as if to hide whatever mad craving she had as a result of her condition.
The sight of both of them filled me with a strange pride.
I shook my head to return to reality, dismounting to join Tam first, knowing that Julie would join us when she had finished what she had started. We murmured greetings to one another, as the generals and I sat down beside her.
"What is she doing?" I asked, "The guests will be here soon." It was a strange time to be doing a technical inspection.
Tam shrugged, as if to say she wasn't entirety sure. "That batch was only completed yesterday," she said, "Maybe she's just getting a little work out of the way first."
That was a surprising lack of information.
"She didn't tell you?" I said, "I wonder why."
"She's nervous," McNulty said, with absolute certainty, "She's good at hiding it. Just not perfect."
We all looked at him, his insight out of the blue being right on the mark, we thought. Julie might have thrived on the attention of public life, but she was still human, and worried about how to act. We watched her complete her circuit, to which she gave herself a firm nod and walked over, finally noticing the rest of us and granting us a wide smile.
Tam and I were very much pleased by the sight, my own feeling sending my chest into a twist and Tam threading her fingers with mine. I think we both felt relief every time we saw Julie in her element, after the shock of previous setbacks.
"You're here early," Julie said to all of us, arms akimbo, "How have things gone with the guests so far, do you think?"
"Very well, Lady Marquise," Soprano replied, putting her feet up on another chair, "The guests have said almost nothing but watched carefully. The ones that know nothing about military matters are impressed. Those that do are scared but hiding it well. I don't think we could have asked for a better outcome."
"I'm sure they'll all revert to openly scared when they see your creations," McNulty added cheerfully, "I see you've got the rockets set up."
"That's the finale," Julie nodded, "They don't have warheads on them though. Not wasting them on a demonstration."
"I doubt it will make much difference," Soprano shrugged, crossing her arms, "They can use their own imaginations about what we can stick on the top of the rockets." She eyed the artillery shells pointedly, marking her approval of the sight.
The audience to watch the show began arriving soon afterwards.
Aurelia was first, escorted by her brother Marcus and a detachment of the Foreign Legion. They had been ordered to play nice, and so they weren't in their samurai/legionary armour, but wore light robes. They still had their naginatas and gladii, of course, but they were escorting the 'Governor-Militant' after all.
The lady herself was in very fine robes in black and yellow, head uncovered and wearing darkened sunglasses of Thedosian manufacture. She arrived walking at a casual pace, so much so that you might mistake her as floating like a bumblebee might, though she wasn't wearing horizontal stripes.
Of course, the bumblebee image wasn't my invention. Armen made the comparison a few days before, when Aurelia had worn the robe to a public meeting. To use some other words, even less kindly, that Armen had spoken in jest, she would have easily rolled downhill from any direction you cared to push her, saying that she was as round as a ball. Why? Her belly was at least as large as Julie's despite the gap in weeks between them, and Aurelia did not have Julie's height to distribute it.
Tam took Armen's words equally unkindly, punishing him by pinching his nose and slapping his face until the mage's face was bright red and he begged for mercy. Appropriate enough punishment, even if he didn't intend harm. Sometimes the man tries too hard to be funny.
Aurelia herself was positively beaming with happiness. She was using magic to manage any problems that arose, from basic discomfort to any medical issues, a matter of which Tam and Julie were somewhat jealous, as my own gift to them in the whole process was near-complete magical immunity. Her magical reserves had finally peaked, but at a level which was utterly unheard of in humans. At least, except for Aurelia's own ancestors.
"Good morning," she greeted us in Orlesian, with a wave, before giving a cursory glance at the artillery and switching to Common, "The delegations are right behind us. Chattering like juveniles."
"We'll shut them up soon," Julie said, with a curl of her lip that could have been a smile or a sneer, "Show them exactly what they're up against."
"Pity there are no Templars among them," Aurelia continued, as her guards stood aside to let her join us at the table.
"The Trevelyans sent someone," Tam said, with a stretch of the arms, "That's almost the next best thing, if Mariette de Villars is telling the truth." All of the High Command had been put through extensive briefings on the political situation in the Dales, including the key noble families and their allegiances, at the behest of the OSS.
"I would be concerned about protection with so many unknown people present," said Marcus with a frown, leaning on his bladed-staff, "Except my dear sister could probably freeze any assassins so completely, a stiff breeze would shatter them."
"No reason to fret, dear brother," Aurelia said, "I'll leave them for you instead."
"How kind," Marcus smirked, "Your wife is generous, Lord Marquis."
"I can see that," I said with a shake of the head, "Best prepare yourself, they're here."
Our ears had been shielded from the noise of the crowd by the buildings, but that ended the second they came through to the courtyard. Chattering was the right word, every delegation seemed to be engaged in their own conversations, which began to die down as sight of the weapons caught their eyes.
The bulk were very well decked out with finery. Good summer clothes, well-made leather boots, with the nobles and the better connected merchants even donning masks in the Orlesian fashion out of courtesy. Most conspicuous was the lack of jewellery on the humans; only the small number of elves seemed to have any. Hilarious. They must have thought there was a risk of robbery.
That was how they must have seen us, to some extent. A lawless and undisciplined mob with terrifying weapons.
Of course, by the second day, most of those preconceptions would have been put into serious doubt. Velarana, having moved in the top of Orlesian society for some years courtesy of her role in the navy, dispelled the idea that we were lawless. The precise military drilling and demonstrations of our troops put the undisciplined notion to bed.
Now, we were reinforcing the one part of their preconceptions that they got dead correct: We had a multitude of terrifying weapons.
Of course, there were the exceptions. The Dalish seemed out of their element entirely. Evelyn Trevelyan was front and centre, not wearing a mask. There was also a mismatched group of elves and humans, the Kirkwall delegation if the badge on their leader's shoulder was any indicator.
"Welcome, our esteemed guests, to the Manufacture des Armes de Mithril à Troie," Julie declared, waving them over to the side where the table was, "Please get comfortable, while I make the last preparations. You have arrived early."
That mouthful of Orleso-French, meaning something like the Arms Manufactory of Mithril in Troy, is more commonly simply referred to today as MAT, not only for convenience but to distinguish it from other Mithril factories that now exist.
The crowd did as they were told. Julie's assistants vacated the chairs, more akin to log stools in truth, to go do their jobs and free up space for the guests. There were just about enough for half of them to sit, and the higher ranked ones seemed to acquire the seating with complete reliability, the unspoken cues enough to deter anyone supposedly lower ranked from trying.
This annoyed me, sending me glaring at the group before I could stop myself. They didn't notice. Julie was busy directing some of her assistances, so there was time. I stood up and offered my seat loudly to the nearest Dalish representative. An attentive looking elf mage with spiraling tattoos on her face, brown hair and eyes, a staff that looked like an ornate tree branch and green robes.
She graciously took the log stool with a ghost of a grin on her face, as most of the others struggled to keep a straight face, either with amusement, approval or disgust, depending on the delegate.
"Aw, isn't that nice?" said another Dalish mage from the side, sounding like a Welsh girl my brother had once dated long ago. Standing beside her was the Kirkwall delegate, who grunted agreement. The latter woman's face was impassive, except for the eyes, that seemed softer than what my first impression of her would have been. Guess she approved.
"Samuel Hunt, Marquis de la Fayette," I said to the seated Dalish, "Glad to meet you."
"Ellana Lavellan," she replied, in a lyrical accent that was vaguely Welsh too, "First to the Keeper."
I had little clue what the last part meant, as my discussions with Ciara on the subject of her former community hadn't mentioned anything about a First. I wouldn't get the chance to ask, as as soon as she had stopped speaking, there was an amused breath directly beside me.
I turned to its source, namely Tam. She was looking at me with eyebrows raised.
"You cannot help yourself, can you?" she said in Orlesian, clicking her tongue.
"What?" I asked, in confusion.
"You offered the nearest pretty girl your seat without thinking," Tam continued, "Incorrigible, is the word."
I looked between the equally confused Ellana Lavellan, whom presumably couldn't speak Orlesian, and the grinning Tam, who was of course absolutely correct. Can't deny my upbringing, I was raised to do that for women and I went out of the way to do it for ones I liked, even subconsciously. The attractions of the Dalish First were obvious, though different to those of Tam. Nothing to do but concede. I cleared my throat, gave Ellana a polite smile, and went to stand behind Tam's chair. Where I belonged.
"Good boy," Tam laughed in Common, grabbing my hand and planting a kiss on the palm. I determined to playfully punish her for that remark later, the results of which were very pleasurable... but I am getting off topic.
By now, the rest of the congregation were watching with curiosity, and Aurelia with something approaching disdain, all likely only catching the last parts to my great relief.
Julie clapped her hands once, signalling the start of her presentation. She got right down to business.
"I am sure it is no secret to all of you that we have blackpowder," Julie said, "That the Qunari monopoly on that weapon has been broken. By now, some of you will know that it is not only us that have it, but the other factions of the Orlesian Civil War. Gaspard has it, and Celene likely does too."
Julie waved at one of her assistants, who promptly picked up one of the standard issue Modèle 38 firelances from the table next to the one in front of me, loaded it and brought it to her.
"I'm sure many of you are thinking that if we have it and the Orlesian royalists have it, it is only a matter of time before you can equip at least some of your troops with weapons like these," Julie continued, her eyes scanning the audience, "That you will be able to fight on equal terms with us or our allies."
She paused, looking directly at Evelyn Trevelyan. The person who would likely be the main source of information about our capabilities for our enemies.
"Think again," she stated with a smile, "For a start, we are the only sovereign power that can produce weapons of this quality. The combination of expertise in silverite smithing, fine crafting of other parts and alchemistry exists nowhere else. That is not to say others cannot create something like what I am holding within the next few years. Perhaps even some among you here today will be part of that process."
Julie cocked the flint of the firelance, took aim out across the bay, and fired. The bullet left the barrel with a thump that echoed off the factory walls around us, followed up with a generous amount of smoke that dispersed quickly in the pleasant sea breeze. I winced, feeling stupidly overprotective for the simple, biological reason. Not that I could have stopped her. Happy wife, happy life.
"But by the time anyone else reaches to this level of advancement, we will have already surpassed it," she stated, pointing at the ground, "This institution will have created even more deadly weapons. Technological horrors the likes of which this world has never seen, to be unleashed on all who would dream of attacking us."
Julie threw the firelance back to her assistant, as another handed her one of the British Army ones that had come with me from Earth. She aimed off out into the bay again, flicked the selector on the side from safe to automatic, and let loose with all thirty bullets the weapon had to throw in a single stream. All thirty were tracers too, so to the audience, it was a coherent line of flying hot metal being shot out the barrel. The bullets landed out in the water with visible splashes, close to one another.
Pretty impressive control, I thought approvingly, Julie knowing exactly how to go about it from watching me do it and practice. What the others thought, I couldn't tell you.
When the shooting stopped, you could have heard a pin drop, if there had not been a breeze. The idle chattering and quiet comments had stopped completely.
"But enough about the future," Julie said, "Most of you came to find out what our capabilities are right now, not tomorrow. It is my great pleasure to oblige you. If you would please make your way to the side, there will be a more... substantial demonstration." She motioned towards the end of the building closest to the sea, where the blast shields had been put up. Mostly for show, I recognised.
The crowd made their way to the designated area, the chattering restarted, while my officers, Tam and myself drifted to Julie's position closer to the artillery.
What followed was a series of cannonades and rocket strikes on a particularly prominent coastline outcrop directly opposite in the bay, at about the maximum useful range of the smallest cannons.
Like the salute we had performed for the arriving nobles at Hearth once upon a time, the cannon fired one by one down the line, starting with the smaller soixante-quinze field pieces, to the 155mm siege guns and the 200mm naval cannons. Twenty one in total, seven of each type. Each of them newly made since our arrival. Thanks to Warden-Commander Andras in Amaranthine sending the promised shipments of materials quickly, we had been able to start churning out everything relatively quickly.
The crowd watched in awe or fear, varying from person to person and time to time. Several jumped at the first shot, and a few kept on jumping as the bombardment continued. As for those who fully understood what they were seeing, their eyes grew to the size of hens' eggs. Trevelyan's face drained of all colour as soon as the bigger guns started up.
The rockets were the finale, shrieking off their guide rails like banshees in rapid succession, coating the target area with hits that could be heard back across the bay where we all stood. As the smoke cleared, pieces of the crumbling rock could be seen breaking off and falling into the water below, giant white splashes appearing in the deep blue.
By the end, Julie was smiling as wide as she could, Tam was looking out over the bay with binoculars to see the damage, the generals that had come with me were quietly assured, and the audience were jaw-dropped and speechless.
Bar one person.
Aurelia was not one to be outdone.
She nodded her appreciation to Julie for the demonstration, whose smile immediately dampened on seeing my Vint stepping forward, and pursed her lips. None of the others noticed her, until she moved in front, past the Tranquil busily swabbing the insides of the cannon. She reached a suitable spot, and raised her naginata. Fire began gathering in above her at the tip of its blade, in a shapeless but increasingly large form.
The murmurs of fear began at once, heightening as the fire began to take the shape of a gigantic eagle, spreading its wings in preparation for flight. I had seen something like it before; when her grandfather had arrived at L'Ambassade just as we had repulsed the Templar attack at Christmas in 9:38. That had been shaped like a dragon, and had been smaller.
When the thing finally took off, it soared directly upwards without so much as a sound, before arcing towards the rock we had used as a targeting point. The mages present were already gasping; it was far far out of range for a normal magical practitioner. A final swan dive saw the magic arrive at its destination.
In the blink of an eye, the massive eagle went from the size of a large building to a pinpoint. The pinpoint then exploded with the force of an entire barrage striking at once, a bubble of fire ballooning outwards in every direction until it had swallowed the rock and much of the surrounding water. Jets of steam obscured our vision, rising up until it reached us, cooled enough not to do any harm.
Aurelia stepped back up towards us out of the mist, looking quite annoyed. Not at us, but at something else. She looked to Julie.
"Sorry to cut in," she said, genuinely apologetic, "Sam and I have a mutual acquaintance in the Fade, who insisted that I do that. He needed to see it, for some reason. So did the guests. The alternative was unacceptable."
Julie, Tam and I looked at each other with alarm. I hadn't went into the full details of the Fade Spirit with them, but they knew enough to know that the meddling wasn't good news.
"A fucking Fade acquaintance?" McNulty boomed in Orlesian, "Maker preserve us."
Soprano groaned her agreement with her fellow officer, rubbing her face with frustration.
"My sentiments exactly," Aurelia said, before looking off behind us with interest.
The crowd had moved towards us, in a somewhat threatening manner even to me. Marcus and his contingent of Foreign Legion immediately moved to intercept, but was smart enough to hold off on flinging magic around.
The crowd reacted by stopping dead, but we had misread their intentions. They weren't moving to strike at us. They were afraid and wished to beg leave.
The few that didn't were notable; the Dalish, the Kirkwallers, Trevelyan, a tanned elf with two long tattoos on the right side of his face and blonde hair, and a pair of Marcher nobles dressed in deep blue, both sporting dark-brown hair and Benjamin Franklin spectacles.
They'll appear in these volumes again, to put it mildly.
I wondered if we scared our guests a little too much. Especially with Aurelia's contribution, given that the whole point of bringing them to Troy was to assure them of our peaceful intentions while also showing off our warmaking capacity. I still wonder about it today, but at the time, there was still another day and night to re-emphasize the former purpose.
Little did I know that our little demonstration was not to be the most explosive event of the summit.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Second part of this chapter is up. Might be a while until the third goes up.
Thanks as always for all your reviews.
Thehappyvampire: There's a whole debate over that which is unresolved. I reckon it depends what people want out of it. I'm not sure that France would agree that the American model of minority relations is better than theirs.
Thepkrmgc: Dangerous indeed.
Tamisbae: How about two days delay instead? Haha
Viper0300: Glad to be back. Not overwhelmed by Christmas stuff, I'm moving back to Europe.
FloridaMagpie: Glad to treat you to some more so!
Zechs: Opinion on the news?