Moneydie: The Cosmic Order Series

By Da Via

When a young teenager is forced into an arranged marriage by the Vatican, her best friend, a Chinese mandarin, and Leonardo da Vinci, with help from the four corners, ultimately square to save her. Truth is a woman, bear the history in mind; pierce the veil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781528957984

Da Via

Da Via is a former successful businessman, who after an unconventional Harvard education, developed his interest in China. He is also the author of Art for War.

Book preview

Moneydie

The Cosmic Order Series

Da Via

Austin Macauley Publishers

Moneydie

About the Author

Dedication

Copyright Information ©

Acknowledgment

Chapter 1

The Mount of Cuckoos

Chapter 2

Letters

Chapter 3

Telos – Elite Education

Chapter 4

The Convert of Qian

Chapter 5

The Abyss

Chapter 6

Eilean Nam Munda

Chapter 7

Personal Sovereignty

About the Author

Da Via is a former successful businessman, who after an unconventional Harvard education, developed his interest in China. He is also the author of Art for War.

Dedication

To

Elizabeth, Carmen and Ryna

With much love x

Copyright Information ©

Da Via (2020)

The right of Da Via to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528902465 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528905404 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781528957984 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2020)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgment

In writing Moneydie there were a number of people who helped me with good advice. The Chinese visual artist, Ruoxuan Zhao, and the Chinese poet, Cigeng. My editor, Thelma Mort. David Ramsden. Harvard University for a superb unorthodox education in classics and China in general. And most of all, my family and friends for all of their love and support.

Chapter 1

The Mount of Cuckoos

Donna was the niece of Prince Raimondo Montecuccoli, Royal Secret Counsellor, and Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece. The Prince was similar to a number of military men in northern Italy at that time, in that he was constantly in action, which he did for a fee. Defending or attacking the interests of principalities, kingdoms, and at times for the Vatican itself.

He was a soldier with a private army, as his own father, and fathers before had been in the region. Their ancestry dating back some centuries before to Burgundy. And so in some respects, intrigued by such matters, Donna had grown up a tomboy. Albeit, she was the most beautiful spitfire, riding expertly, shooting with accuracy, and out-fencing many of the young officers at her uncle’s camps. These were the same young men, who at times would bait her, under secret instructions from her uncle; seeking unconventional ways of improving the progeny to the House of Montecuccoli. For it was Medici, who had pointed out the opportunity to Prince Raimondo with Donna’s closest friend Maria, some three years Donna’s junior.

And so from a young age, intrigued by the family stories of valour, Donna dreamt of leading men into the melee of battle in the fight for justice.

Some years before, having orchestrated the theft of a Lieutenant’s uniform close to her size, from her uncle’s stores, she cut her long russet brown hair short. Having tightly bandaged her developing breasts, and applied some wood ash to her cheeks and neck. Then mounting Bucephalus, she rode into camp, as if the Goddess of Transformations had manifested.

Lieutenant Montecuccoli reported with some confidence to the commanding officer directly stating instructions from the General that he was to attend the exercises. There was no enemy, for they were not at war. The camp practiced artillery, which was her uncle’s specialty, the family business, but all the traditional cohorts of the army were there. When asked for her name, she gave the name Montecuccoli. When asked about the relationship, ‘Lieutenant Montecuccoli’ advised as being a nephew. Her insignia, cunningly applied, was that of the Signals, the intelligence corps. She was not questioned further. She looked the part, for she was already tall and slim, although perhaps somewhat effeminate looking for a young man, and was allocated a small tent, commensurate with her invented rank and status.

Over the course of some weeks, she ran and exercised with the men. She had good stamina and over long distances she was highly competitive. In fact, on the first race she was so obviously the best that she held back in others to avoid drawing attention to herself. Lieutenant Montecuccoli was a better shot than most. For few people knew that Lieutenant Montecuccoli was naturally left-handed. Ambidextrous by then, due to the stigma of the left hand being evil. She could write with both hands, and in private, worked left-handed. With pistols, she could shoot accurately and quickly with both. This gave her an advantage. And she could kick like a mule. In fact, when she had to engage in unarmed combat she kicked, and where possible avoided wrestling, or close boxing. She practiced kicking, and could kick high and kick strongly. In practice, sparring she knocked two men unconscious by accident, as she worked on perfecting accuracy. Lieutenant Montecuccoli didn’t mind hardships, and didn’t generally sleep long in any case. Normally refreshed in around four hours. For that reason, she put the time to good use, and read a lot in lamplight, and wrote under normal circumstances. In camp Lieutenant Montecuccoli was up most hours, observing, listening, and learning, the last of which was a process of fascination for the young Lieutenant, who avoided as much direct contact as possible, for fear of being discovered as being a girl. This forced seclusion made her more scholarly, and so she became engrossed in the books on signals, ammunition and trajectories, the stock and trade of her new profession, which she found in the officer’s briefing tent. There was a wealth of learning to be gained for those with eyes that see, and ears that hear. Observing the men in the mess tents, and around the campfires; listening was an eye-opening education in itself, as she was exposed to the true realities of camp including the prostitutes and other hangers on; the camp followers. And so she saw the roughness, and raw nature of most of the enlisted men, something that few countesses ever experience.

At one point, for practice manoeuvres Lieutenant Montecuccoli was put in charge of two light cannons, their six men, and four horses. She was required to expedite out of camp the following morning, thwart a simulated attack, and to return the cannon, horses, and men safely to camp. The orders stated clearly that she was to take two light guns the following morning, and remove the targets from the plain. Hitting all of the targets was, she considered, something that had not yet been achieved at the camp so far to her knowledge. The orders read that she had to depart camp at sunrise. There was little else of significance in the document. As this was her first actual command, albeit of a small detachment, Lieutenant Montecuccoli’s heart pounded with excitement at the prospect.

Numnutz was possibly the most stupid individual she had ever encountered in life. He was clumsy, inept, significantly overweight, and just an inferior grade of person, she had decided. He was grumpy, much older and often complained of having acute earache and headaches. He was the senior artilleryman, the longest serving of the men allocated to her, with sore knees that seemed to induce in Numnutz a puffing noise as he walked, as if complete exhaustion set in after three steps. And when he did walk, he limped, for he had dropped many cannonballs on his feet over the years. Then were the burn scars, for Numnutz had had many accidents with gunpowder, yet none with the finality of being fatal, Donna considered. She gave a deep sigh on reading the orders and instructions again, and looked once more at Numnutz in consideration, and appraisal of what was to take place the following day.

She called her detachment together, to their surprise outside of the magazine. It was later in the afternoon. The men were fatigued and as was their way, complaining, but in bringing them together the Lieutenant began to lay out the plan.

From that point forward, until the end of exercise the following day, they were not to leave each other’s company, and especially not her sight. Nor were they to attend the campfires of the other troops. And under no circumstances were they to mention or discuss what was to be told and happened.

Well, why is that Lieutenant? questioned Numnutz, awkward and disgruntled, as was his disposition. She realised that command had probably given her the worst of all men. Yet she was determined to make a success for she sought to make a point that might later be revealed to her family.

Because Numnutz, this is a military exercise! And for all intents and purposes we are now at war!

We don’t normally do this! responded Numnutz. We just take the guns in the morning to the plain and try to hit the targets, whilst they charge and attack us! We always do it like that!

Lieutenant Montecuccoli didn’t respond to this, but rather questioned.

How long does it take you to get to the plain? asked Donna, not precisely sure of the answer.

Around four hours if all goes well, replied Numnutz.

Well this time, there are to be some changes! For we are going to use the element of surprise!

The surprise caught its first victim, which was Numnutz! For Numnutz stood open mouthed.

And so, gathering the men around, fresh work began. The magazine was empty of personnel. The rest of the camp was at rest, and what followed went unnoticed in the humdrum of a lazy balmy Sunday afternoon at peace.

Inside the magazine, the Lieutenant began to give instructions, and got to work at some speed giving orders, monitoring activities, and packing.

But we just use these cartridges! Numnutz pointed to piles of ready-mades, of either cannon balls or shot. They are already made up! complained Numnutz, the rest of the men were by now also confused.

Orders were then given, and the men got into action. Canes, turpentine, hemp, tar, tow and cord and other necessary items all accumulated from the stores at speed, including the caltrops.

Then parcels of the Lieutenant’s special cartridges, packed unconventionally, but personally, were put together with tar, shot, powder, turpentine, and hemp. Parts rolled in thin lead sheeting, with turpentine-soaked hemp, powder, and webbing. Other parts were dry powder, encased in thin lead sheet, with the outer cased again in lead and soaking hemp and tar. All with thin canes bent inside and some cane ends protruding outwards. Bound together to a point by linen, and webbed by more turpentine infused linen. Then working with some industry all were peppered again with tar and powder, and loaded onto the two waiting carts outside the magazine.

With some care, old linen sheeting was obtained from the laundry, and then the hospital tent. Kegs of gunpowder, tar and turpentine were then loaded on the carts. Then Donna reconsidered and she ordered more old linen, and then two more barrels of turpentine from the stores, added another gun powder keg, and brought some more of the thin lead sheeting. All was loaded onto the carts. Then everything detachable from the two light guns was stripped, and the related equipment was ordered to be removed from the carriages, and loaded onto the carts. Irritating Numnutz as normally, the car ran with the cannon balls, shot, powder, and all equipment all together. Then finally the loaded carts were covered with old cloth.

Lieutenant Montecuccoli ordered horses to be brought around for the carts.

Where are we taking this? asked Numnutz loudly. For Donna now realised that whenever he spoke it was always very loudly.

You’ll see! responded the Lieutenant.

Then the two carts with the men now basking in prodigious satisfaction atop rode out of camp, with Donna on Bucephalus by their side. When questioned at the gate, Lieutenant Montecuccoli ventured they were working on direct orders from the General. This wasn’t questioned by the sentry, who seemed a little drunk. And so with an invigorated confidence in her rectitude, Lieutenant Montecuccoli and the detachment sallied forth unabated towards the plain, unseen by the other troops.

By the dark before the next daybreak, the façade of other guns was brought close to their marshalling area in a pantomime to misdirect perceptions, the others covered by the waxed sheets beside the stables, veiled unnoticed, as if set for repair.

Numnutz was now oafishly dropping cannonballs and spilling things, and there was a general spectacle of disorder to this theatre of war. For Numnutz had no real understanding, and so the Lieutenant had played Numnutz to what she perceived as his only strength, as a decoy to the overtures to follow.

As the last of the foot and horse passed by, their pretended opposition, having observed laughing at the omens of disarray left at the camp, rode out towards the plain. Ahead as was their schedule, one thousand men, and one hundred horse. By a good hour ahead from Lieutenant Montecuccoli’s detachment’s authorised time of departure. The enlisted men were jeering at Numnutz as they left.

Then once out of sight, the real preparations began with the lighter, light guns being marshalled in fast order and delight, all being commanded effectively by the Lieutenant. Who had left two men the previous afternoon on her observation hill as guards, having partly unloaded the carts there with all of the equipment, ammunition, and supplies. She had then made off that previous late afternoon down to the river, the ruined mill house and then to the targets on the plain with the balance of the men, and with what had been left loaded on the carts.

Thus that morning gathering the other four men together, she ordered six horses per gun. Instead of the regular two, again to Numnutz’s light witted perplexed state, and arranged the additional carriage beam shafts. Then you see, with the lighter, light cannons, and no additional weight, they made off poste haste with greater horsepower and no ballast, having been prepared well in advance, at the first sight of sun from the east. The men transformed as if to valiant and devoted knights venturing as eager combatants on an enterprise of some great excitement, all by the guidance and leadership of the Lieutenant. Even Numnutz was laughing, at the pace they took off at, which almost knocked him from the carriage when a wheel caught a bump in the road and jarred the cross bar.

They arrived with hot haste on the hilltop, and reunited with the guards. Well before the horse and foot of the regular army had passed the choke point Donna identified at the wooden bridge at the river, on the horse and foot’s designated routine route, well before where the light guns on exercise would be, as was the predictable convention.

On plan, close to the river at the side of the roadway, close to the bridge, was a dilapidated and disused cottage without a proper roof. By its design it appeared to have been a mill house in a former time, and was very close by to the bridge.

Further up the valley, the direction from where the army would descend, was the narrowest point. The road then crossed the bridge to the large wide open, bone dry floodplain on the other side of the river, which was now dense with thick long grass. Which again by convention the troops would assemble onto in their traditional positions. Cavalry would then likely charge to attack the guns, if they were in their normal positions, and then the infantry would advance. The Lieutenant’s objective was to remove the targets, old broken carts positioned around the plain before the foot soldiers arrived at the light cannons.

By taking the higher ground of a previous observation post in signals, the young Lieutenant had extended the range of the cannons significantly. Due to the elevation providing a higher level, and a reach more than sufficient to the bridge over the river by the mill-house. But, to directly hit the bridge, flat as it almost was, timbers to the ground, would in effect be nothing short of a miracle between the reeds, whereas to hit the derelict cottage, where an almost full large wall was sited, and standing perpendicular to trajectory, was clearly possible.

And this was why the Lieutenant had stacked the mill-house with gunpowder the previous evening. Consulting various books she had been studying, as if missals for her missiles, and had loaded on the cart and covered everything up with old cloth. She laid a fuse to the bridge from the mill-house, packing more gun powder in a barrel underneath, held up on rocks in the concave below to keep it dry. Then reconsidering the Lieutenant ran a second fuse and positioned a second barrel, just in case, for things can go wrong relying only on one, as her preference was to deuce. Before moving onto the targets on the plain, with similar intentions, method and dice.

All after having left the guards on the hilltop the previous late afternoon, and working at racing speed with Numnutz, and the other men. The Lieutenant began using the raiments of sheets, linen, and webbing as if curtains and veils to clothe the windows and doorways of the derelict cottage.

Why are we putting up curtains? asked Numnutz, by now himself veiled in mystery.

Because Numnutz, darkness is about to set in! replied the Lieutenant sarcastically. But in the morning, I’ll send you down here to open them! The Lieutenant then doused the curtains and veils heavily with turpentine and tar, before spreading powder and plenty dry reeds, collected as tinder for illumination, on the floor.

She then paused for a second in contemplation, for there was sufficient tar left before darkness set in. On the interior wall, of the one-story building, that no one was ever likely to see, she painted currente calamo, the name on the wall in capitals – PYTHAGORAS! Then in scale with her writing produced, as if the aesthetic of a great movement, a three, four, five right angled triangle to her satisfaction.

What does this mean? asked Numnutz.

It’s to do with Squires, a high pot and noose! replied the Lieutenant with a smile looking closely at Numnutz to gauge reaction, for which there was none. Confirming what she had considered all along, there would never be a future for Numnutz in Signals.

She then gave instructions for Numnutz to use a battered old three legged cauldron, handles like ears, that was in the mill-house. That she filled with lighting powder to be hung from a cross beam, tied to a rope with a loop at the end, secured by the large convex rock to the ground where lies a three footed table in correspondence to her mural. She then veiled the cauldron with more old cloth reaching to what must have been an inner threshing floor, over which she amassed and tramped yet more long dry reeds in biblical proportions in visceral anticipation by such winnowing, and her perceived implement of canonical thrashing.

Behind the mill-house, going into the valley, a distance no further than the best spearman could hurl a spear, that is to say far further than Numnutz could hurl a spear, the Lieutenant positioned two rows of caltrops, in very straight lines, as if an order of chivalry extending fully across the road as a blockade. That were in fact perfectly simple and easy to remove.

And so, at the side of the roadway, next to the caltrops the Lieutenant carefully positioned the main easel of well-polished willow, with such a long and well-known history. Being in regular use, as this easel was used for all the main briefings, and thereby known to all. It had been brought by the Lieutenant having discretely collapsed it, and removed it from the officer’s command tent on that sleepy Sunday afternoon. The willow easel was thus reassembled there at the side of the road. Onto which the Lieutenant mounted a large map reversed, an old map yellowed, and rarely used, in such a manner, that one would need to stand behind the framework in operation to observe the nature of the correspondent mapping, between the wooden beams of willow, for such would be the effort required.

To which broad and clean canvas the artist then began her fresh perspective, from a pallet filled with oils a-front.

In the treatment of painting and methods of drawing and colouring, the young Lieutenant was in possession of a certain more modern, Milanese air, as she stood by her easel in the twilight at the roadside, pallet, and brushes in hand before she began. It was as if she was enchanted by solitude in the stillness of that pleasant evening. Then in time she seemed somewhat freely, without incident or consequence, to begin her work, as if a Leonardo in studio, with a manuscript of song to transpose to light and shade within one volume on that canvas in a blur of industry and brushes.

The work complete, large in perspective, oil on canvas, bore the simplicity of an inscription. Bold and dark in nature:

WARNING: CALTROPS AHEAD PLEASE READ THIS LETTER.

In wonderful ornate design was a large arrow, as if heaven sent, illuminating in colour, full of the expression, vitality and movement, with a perspective that drew the pursuer’s eye directly to that special point. The point to where the letter had been securely stuck. The letter itself enveloped in an ornate nature and delicacy of wax seals and ribbons, as if a fragile waif that could so easily be blown from that canvas, by a strong gust from the west.

The old map from the briefing room covered the well-known easel thereby granted an element of authenticity to the endeavour, and familiarity of process. For this easel was the source, the very wellspring from where all orders began. Then the attachment, for most unusually that letter, most ornately sealed with the imprint of a golden coin, employing red, white, and blue silk ribbons placed added richness in effect. For this was certainly out with any standard procedure, but trumped official in its brash manner of presentation, and was to be looked upon with great respect by all of the enlisted men.

For in time, sure enough the horse and foot arrived in the later part of the morning.

The leading officer called a halt to the column. They waited at that point of the easel, and stationery somewhat perplexed. For never had they encountered such an easel at the side of any road. For neither such instructions nor caltrops were the norm on an exercise in camp.

Remaining on his horse, the leading officer sent a man to fetch the letter.

The Commanding Officer then opened the letter and read aloud with much formality. Await for a messenger to provide a map to avoid all caltrops! Especially in THE RIVER! Do not endanger the horses! read the letter signed, General Montecuccoli.

For by this time, the Lieutenant had encountered some success, as a forger and mis-presenter of facts.

Thus the senior officers with some thousand men of foot, and another hundred horses stood still, a good spear’s throw from the derelict mill and thus the bridge. The dust on the road was settling as they stood contemplating the significance of the sign of the wooden structure of the easel which they knew. What was the nature of the sign? And the contents of the letter? For they recognised the easel from the briefing tent, and so they took the matter seriously. Yet, they did not know if the messenger would arrive by horse or foot, or as a cherubim in air.

At that point, the bombardment of the fireballs began.

For that morning from the elevated point on the hill overlooking the plain and river, strongly primed, the young Lieutenant was directing ordinance with an eye of mischief.

Holy smoke! gasped Numnutz, seeing as if plague and pestilence was now raining down on men.

For the first missile missed the single-story mill-house, but set alight the nearby dry brush with great effect. The appearance was first that the missile had become extinguished in flight at speed. Yet as it reached the ground, there were still strong red embers on the protruding canes, bound at the front ends by the turpentine linen cloth which on impact, caught embers and set alight. But, also in the process of impact drove the protruding canes into the light, thin, soft lead casing, further softened by the heat. These were forced slowly open by the uncoiling of the bent canes inside. As if a fast rosebud to bloom. Thereby the tow soaked again in turpentine, and woven hemp-soaked oil of flax, and pitch, were ignited to a spectacularly illuminating explosive effect by the powder laced inside.

These noisy and bright explosions unsettled the nags of the awaiting cavalry by the mill, as their officers awaited signs, and the much-anticipated arrival of the messenger from their overlord. As documented in the letter from the sign.

The Lieutenant quickly recalculated recalibration, using the gunner’s quadrant, and ordered a slight redirection and alteration to the perspective of elevation. And with her spyglass to her eye she observed closely and in detail a thousand men, and a hundred horse, awaiting patiently, held prisoner by her easel. As if a pulpit or a courtroom, or the words that Moses spoke. Impossible to disavow; they remained rigid, steadfast, and stoic to their beliefs, as was their pitfall.

The next round was a bulls-eye! – A direct hit on the cottage. The fireball, did its work, exploding on impact. For the tinder caught, and then the linen curtained windows she’d fashioned to curtail and doused with turpentine, then the veil of the cauldron, that high pot, hanging on the noose. Within a matter of perhaps ten seconds, the powder caught and was exploding! This caused a tremor to the ground! It was as if a great earthquake had befallen, of sufficient force to cause a woman to miscarry, or for younger chicks to perish in their shells – thereby igniting the fuses to the bridge, which within an instance was wood reduced to splinters, in a large explosive bang and daze in a mushroom cloud of fire and plumes which sated her desire.

Having experienced the pyrotechnical shock and awe of the fireballs and their effects, and then seeing again the well-ordered caltrops on the ground, the commanding officer read again the Montecuccoli letter. Seeking reassurance himself for it was signed Montecuccoli. Having never seen such a document, for this was outside of procedures, he accepted it to be true, and wrongly assumed the missive had been penned by the General, as all things looked above board with the fanfare of the ribbons, and the willow wood, and signs that seemed familiar, he was unable to smell the true spirit of the ink, nor body behind the characters in the calligraphy of the text.

And so a thousand men and a hundred horse, remained motionless and unsure of what to do. It was as if in whatever choice they would suffer instant damage. Thus, in their confusion, they were unable to think with clarity, to estimate the measure of their perceptions, nor the likelihood of loss, should they pass the narrow willow beams. Nor were they able to grasp with any foresight of whatever might happen next. But, rather looked around in desperation to find enlightenment by messenger.

For they were now afraid to enter the river for the caltrops of which the sign advised. And thus, the Commanding Officer thought it better that he hold still and await the messenger that Montecuccoli had advised. For that man would have with him the map, as documented in the letter. And so, with such in mind, he dispatched outriders, in all directions save for the river in order that they might find this most important man to gain possession of the map.

With the army now choking stationary in the smoke around the ruined mill house, Lieutenant Montecuccoli turned the guns on the carts, a greater distance away on the plain. Then with a new found confidence she began, with quadrant and spy glass in hands, to shout out rapid instructions for bearings and trajectories for the new targets. The previous night she having placed additional dry hay, and powder around her targets, with a cocktail of noxious liquids, enlarging the scope of the targets.

Then began the second bombarding from the hilltop, with an increased rate of fire. And with twenty-five of the repacked rounds from the previous afternoon discharging the superior distance, the bombardment was the perfection of geometry and teamwork. With the necessary alignments and elevations, aided by a light wind, all eight targets were hit, to the astonishment of the world around her, and to the amazement and celebration of her troops.

And so the rapid withdrawal phase came into effect, as the next stage was planned. Jettisoning all things unnecessary save for the cannons, carriages, and horses, at speed she marshalled her men from Bucephalus. The men climbed aboard the cars, and began somewhat shell-shocked, then startled at the speed the horses were descending down the hill.

On the return to camp, on a cliff edge, one of the light cannon carriages broke a wheel, almost skidding off the cliff edge. The horses alarmed reared, and she gashing her arm against the upward flying carriage, as if fate was about to punish them by such a skirmish of nature and deprive them all of life.

She realised right there and then that she was in a situation that could easily end badly. And with that, without immediate action she would be disgraced by losing valued men under her own command, whilst readying on an exercise. For there are few fates much worse, than such disgrace in war.

Lieutenant Montecuccoli bolted ahead, with the closeness and exactness of the powers of observation and the mechanics of celestial potential, as she was certain that by placing herself and Bucephalus between the rearing of the horses and the edge of their abyss, she could make an intervention.

There was a fast spreading panic amongst the horses. They were rearing to the cliff side in a frenzy, despite the best efforts of the driver. By now causing an