‘You ram gunpowder, shot and wadding into the barrel, you fill the flash-pan with flashpowder. You touch a burning slow-match to the pan; the flashpowder ignites the gunpowder and, bang!’ Wynter clapped her hands, making Coriolanus jerk. ‘The explosion sends the shot flying into your enemy . . . hopefully killing him before he has a chance to ram his sword into you.’
Alberon laughed. ‘Very concise,’ he said. ‘Look at this.’ He held up a finger-length tube of what looked to be sturdy paper. ‘What do you suppose it is?’ Wynter shook her head. Alberon turned to Razi. ‘Brother? What think you?’
Razi’s eyes dropped to the parchment. ‘Hmm,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Would it be . . .’ He squinted, and craned his neck, obviously reading from the plans. ‘A . . . waxed paper tube filled with powder and a ball of shot?’
Alberon laughed again. ‘It and forty-seven of its perfect little brothers are placed into the loading device detailed there.’ He pointed to the relevant section of drawing. ‘Then they are all rammed at once into the circlet of musket barrels. See that circle of blades on the loading device? There, see? Attached to the lever that swivels it? The paper cartridges are sliced open just before the ram shoves them in; they are reduced to powder, ball and wadding, just like any everyday matchlock . . .’
‘Except that you load forty-eight at once, in double-quick time,’ mused Razi.
‘Faster even than that, brother . . . and see? The entire system of forty-eight barrels comes away at once, and can be cleaned and reloaded whilst a fresh one takes its place. It provides an almost continuous rate of fire.’
‘Utterly deadly,’ murmured Wynter. ‘Imagine a row of these atop a palace wall.’
‘Well said, Wyn!’ cried Alberon. ‘Twelve men to each gun, that is all it takes! Twelve men and they do the work of hundreds of archers. It is incredible. Not only that but, unlike our cumbersome cannonry, this entire device dismantles down to its smallest parts and is easily transported over the most inaccessible terrain! Consider its potential!’
‘But it is impossible, Albi,’ said Razi. ‘An impossible flight of fancy, for surely it cannot fire?’
Alberon smiled up into his brother’s regretful face. ‘Behold,’ he said softly, and drew another object from the box.
At the sight of it, Coriolanus tensed. ‘I shall retire,’ he said, shrugging from Wynter’s arms and dropping stiffly to the ground. Her heart wrung to see how awkwardly he landed. She noticed that he gave Alberon a wide berth on his way back to the tent.
‘I shall only demonstrate it once, Cori,’ whispered Alberon as the cat skirted around him. ‘I know you do not like the noise.’
‘Pffffft! Do not trouble yourself on account of me, Prince-and-heir-to-the-throne. I am no milk-addled kit, frightened of thunder. Make all the noise you wish; I simply grow tired of your company.’ He slipped into the shadows of the tent and Wynter pulled her cloak tight around her, suddenly cold without the warm weight of him on her lap.
‘Watch,’ said Alberon. He unfurled a little section of the object in his hands, and Wynter realised that it was a roll of heavy paper tape. The tape was very thick and dotted along its middle with a series of raised bumps. Alberon tore off a section, then carefully put the remaining roll and the paper shot-cartridge back in the box and closed the lid.
‘Watch this,’ he said, laying the piece of torn tape against a flat stone. He took out his belt-knife, grinned up at Razi, then struck the paper with the metal handle of the knife.
There was an enormous bang and a flash of harsh light. Razi yelled and Wynter leapt in shock, shielding her eyes. Down among the tents the warhounds howled, but their panicked barking was nothing but a faint noise through the high singing in Wynter’s ears. She blinked against the light-scars on her eyes and heard Alberon laugh, a muffled sound. He spoke, and his words came clearer as her ears began to recover.
‘. . . should have warned you,’ he yelled merrily, ‘but there’s no preparing one for the shock.’
You enjoyed that, she thought, squinting at him. You imp!
Razi was staggering forward, staring at the now blackened tape, Alberon nodding delightedly at him. ‘I hit a few at once, just for effect,’ he said, shouting over the ringing that still echoed in their ears. ‘But you get