Of Lusia, Its Cities, and its Relationships to the Empire
Lusia, readily reachable from Singhapura or the Rosantic League, can be said to be a family of city-states, rather than a single unified dominion. It lies Westward and South of the narrow strip that we call the Taprobane Desert, in a region of rivers and fertile valleys; in those vallies lie are seventeen city-states, bound together by language, custom, and a shared taste for internecine rivalry rather than a single unified governance.
Lusia invented modern banking, double-entry accounting, and lawyers. As such, Lusian financial tendrils reach far beyond even their formidable mercenaries; their banks have underwritten the ambitions of Pendragons, provincial lords, and city-states across the known world. The Adhiraj has forbidden the Singhapura Treasury, the Haugris Church, and the inner ring of nobility from Lusian dealings - this is considered a serious matter of state security - but the prohibition does not extend to everyone else. Many a Singhapura noble has, at one point or another, looked at the terms. Your Grace should operate on the assumption that unexplained money, in any political context, has at least some Lusian component until demonstrated otherwise.
The Order of the Sound of One Hand Clapping is an instrument in Lusian contract enforcement. Plainly said, Your Grace, the Order is dangerous: it is a direct counter to the kind of structured magic that underlies much of the Singhapura Empire. They are mercenary in nature - Mohandas Siege, the Emperor’s own Bitterness, comes from this cabal - but Lusia has made itself the Order’s primary patron, and is thus in a position to viciously deter threats both real and imagined.
We shall dwell first on the four largest republics. Each is nominally governed by a Principe, a First Citizen whose post rotates on a three-year cycle. The title is misleading; the Principe’s function is chiefly ceremonial, and while he may sign in a city’s name, he does not always have the power to decide what he signs. It is around various councils that the major noble houses orbit, each with its own private armies and its own commercial enterprises. The joke is that all possible wars between the Septimura and Altomente houses have already been started; what remains is the scheduling. Your Grace, who manages competing factions within a single city, may find in Lusia a useful study in what that competition looks like with no single authority sufficient to contain it.
Of the Four Great Republics and the Nature of Their Power
Septimura is the first and the oldest republic; like Singhapura, it too claims descent from Samarskand. There may indeed be some truth to this claim; it may indeed have been the site of some far-flung vassal kingdom. It lies to the South of the Taprobane desert, surrounded by seven hills, and linked to the others by an extensive network of rivers. Septimura is a well-ordered state, large and of great abundance, and makers of fine wools, silks and silverware; but chiefly, it is home to the great banking families, such as Orenzo. Your Grace may recognize the name.
Septimura makes the greatest part of its reputation on law, and the enforcement thereof. Septimura’s Senate, which is convened very rarely, has a reputation for enforcing contracts regardless of political consequence. Its banking families have deep ties to the aforementioned Order of the Sound of One Hand Clappping. Often members of the Order have been deployed in cases where on renenges on a contract with Septimura; and Septimura bankers have been known to purchase large debts from other entities when wronged, often driving errant clients to ruin and beyond. Thus the epitaph on the grave of the general Septimus, said to be the city’s founder: No friend has ever served me whom I did not treat with gold; no enemy has ever wronged me whom I did not repay with ashes. Thus all accounts are settled.
This is the foundation of its most useful function to the Empire: parties who do not trust Singhapura to keep its word call on Septimura to witness their arrangements with us. The Adiraj’s response has thus far been to treat Septimura as a partner in mutual utility, publicly kept at arm’s length, but in reality held close; indeed, Singhapura generously funds the Temple of Eighteen in Septimura, and many a Septimura noble travels to Singhapura for business or pleasure.
Marezzia is a naval republic; its wealth is derived from controlling the sea trade routes between Singhapura and the various rebublics and from glasswork of extraordinary quality. They are said to posesses a merchant navy that is significantly larger and faster than that of Singhapura, though more dispersed. This has given to them a remarkable reach; now when one speaks of Lusian merchants in connection with the sea, one means Marezzia.
Marezzians have a custom of masks worn in public. Each style is recorded in a central ledger, removed only among family and in trusted negotiations. Vassal families wear cruder appropriations of masks of the noble houses they work for, thus displaying loyalty. Its governing body, the Council of Ten, is drawn from the wealthiest and most powerful; its members are required to be unmasked to each other, and to no one else; it is said that the post of First Citizen is offered to the youngest first, as a form of education on the requirements of ruling.
This business of masks often dismissed as affectation, yet I would caution Your Grace: it is fundamental to the nature of the Marezzian and on the nature of Marezzian dealings: everything is hidden, yet everything is tracked; honesty and vulnerability are privileges extended selectively and only with great deliberation.
Altomente is the capital of the arts; not just in Lusia, but perhaps in the entirety of the known world there is no equal. Long ago, it seems, they made the calculation that profitability lay not in matching their neighbours in arms, but in the cultural imagination of the region. The result is that Altomente’s taste sets the standard both in their homeland and outside it, in music, the theater, in novels. Altomente’s banking families collect both profits and the gratitude of everyone whose work they have elevated. Your Grace will recognize in this the echoes of Ealdorfold; culture, as I have said, is a significant force.
Ferrocinto is the northernmost republic. Its mercenaries have fought in every conflict worth naming; its siege-craft and cavalry are without peer; its borders with the Rosantic League means it has never lacked for practice. Ferrocinto is also agriculturally self-sufficient and produces armor of great quality, and are said to employ a great many alchemists for both war and peace. A state that can feed itself, equip itself, and sell its soldiers to whoever is currently fighting is a state that has made itself very difficult to coerce. It is often assumed that those from Ferrocinto are of a martial character, yet in my travels I have encountered many who are reserved and much given to enjoyment of the poetry and plays of other lands.
Of the Condottieri and the Lusian Theory of War
I have said earlier that Lusian cities often fight amongst themselves. Indeed, war is said to be as seasonal to them as the monsoon is to Singhapura. Yet Lusia does not collapse into full civil war because of the unique institution of the Condottieri, the mercenary companies. When factional conflicts scale beyond what noble houses or even indidivual cities can manage, the mercenary captains are engaged; and these armies, who are professionals, avoid fighting in cities, avoid harassing civilians, and instead prefer to resolve matters across open plains and vineyards and mountain passes. In this fashion they preserve their client base and win valour for both themselves and their patrons.
This has produced a curious code of honor. It is no great shame to lose in battle; but it said to be deeply shameful to kill an innocent, or to fail to present a large invoice for battle. Your Grace may find this amusing. In practice, this has the effect of making soldiering a lucrative profession, and thus Lusia has, on command, vast armies of mercenaries who among them count some of the most skilled battle-commanders of our time; even better, this is done at private cost while keeping the vast bulk of everyday citizenry in relative safety. The unrelenting squabbling between various cities and noble houses gives the Condottieri plenty of practice; thus, also, a great republic that is in the wrong may find itself ranged against a powerful coalition of forces from smaller cities, and thus unable to progress further.
This is why proposed invasions of Lusia are always abandoned. The carrots are difficult to harvest, as they say, and the sticks are many.
Of the Temple of Eighteen in Lusia
There is a serious claim that the Temple of Eighteen originated in Lusia - that what Singhapura received was a cultural export. There are equally serious counterclaims. I would advise Your Grace against raising the question at dinner with Singhapura scholars present, as the record suggests this ends badly for the crockery. Any connections drawn regarding similarities between the Rosantic Ascended and the Lusian Litanies is similarly fraught.
In Singhapura and its dominions, the Temple was suppressed. This suppression lent it a unifying effect; the Temple at Daub is still very much within the same organizational fiefdom as the Temple at Ruhunupura, for instance.
In Lusia, left to develop freely, it fragmented. There is no monolithic Lusian Temple to negotiate with; at best there are individual temples, some with negligible influence, and some sitting on the highest councils of major city-states. Each of the Eighteen Litanies has noble house affiliations, city-state patronages, competing interpretations, and sectarian rivalries.
There is significant activity between these Temples and the one that calls the North home, Your Grace. Indeed, before the establishment of formal banks on these shows, Lusian commerce and finance often flowed through the Temple; Your Grace is well advised to keep an eye on developments from this avenue.
Of Lusian Magic
Lusia can be said to have magic of two kinds. Lusian sorcerers fall broadly into the Invoker tradition, as do the Temple and the Haugris Church. Their specific method is the making of bargains with higher powers: gods, daemons, and entities of uncertain classification. Where Temple adherents approach their Litanies devotionally, Lusian sorcerers make their approach via bargains and proposals of exchange; while they do produce books of magic, these are less grimoires than annotated contract portfolios, jealously guarded. There are a few on display at the Taprobane museum in Singhapura, but they are said to be woefully out of date.
Lusian sorcerors are held to be of great power and proficience in the casting of curses and protections and in war. The Taprobane University has a robust history with such - Lusian Archmages have made significant contributions to magical theory, so it is wise to suppose that their arts are considerable. A sorceror born to a family is often cause for celebration, or even the elevation of the family (if it is a vassal to a noble house); those of uncertain heritage, it is said, are often adopted and given the finest educations.
It is not known whether the Lusian sorcerer developed from the worship of the Litanies of the Temple, or whether the Litanies were, themselves, agents bound by the Temple and thus cast into a religion; but it is unwise to discuss these matters publicly. As of present, the sorceror and the Temple devotee are two very different creatures, bound by different interests.
The second type is similar to Rosantic institution: the alchemist. As with the Rosantic League, alchemy is a source of significant ability. Yet in Lusia, bereft of Universities, the alchemist is subordinate to the noble house or even the mercenary company; often a servant of rare skill, called upon to draft and design and solve problems for their clients, yet rarely able to command great powers in and and of themselves. Unlike in the Rosantic League, nobles do not dabble in alchemy, nor do alchemists freely advertise their wares and hang up their names on the street; it is seen as a poor man’s sorcery. Yet this institution has been a way for the keen-minded to rise to prominence within their respective employers, sometimes being poached at great expense and risk.
In this is a great lesson for Your Grace: whatever mud they are born in, those of ability will rise like the lotus, as we say in Singhapura; yet how much further that person may go, and what greater feats they might accomplish, if society were to help them rather than hinder!
Further Reading
I close with the observation that Lusia and Singhapura are, despite everything, deeply intertwined, through finance and through the Temple. So too is it with Daub. These relationships cannot be cleanly severed, but they are tapestries with many threads that the wise can observe and weave to their own interests. The relevant question for Your Grace is how to ensure that the Lusian presence in Daub’s commercial life remains a resource and not a liability.
The Notebooks of Benjamin Colzi exist in seventeen partial copies, no two of which agree entirely on the order of the entries; the original, if it survived, has yet to be found. Colzi, an alchemist of great talent, spent forty years in the employ of three different noble houses and two mercenary companies, sometimes on opposing sides. His alchemical work was principal to the modern Ritualist magic known as Benjamin’s Lightning Gourd. His theories on load-bearing alloys, on the extraction of useful compounds from common minerals, even on the geometrics of building foundations, were adopted wholesale by Lusian industry, yet Colzi died in ignomity, begging and reduced to doing street caricature to feed his daughter.
The Invoices of Battle, attributed to one Castruccio of Ferrocinto, is the closest thing the Condottieri tradition has produced to a written doctrine. It is not long; Castruccio writes as a man advising his successor: how to read terrain without committing to it, how to negotiate surrender in an efficient and dignified manner, how to select clients, and on the general wages and provisions required for armies in various scenarios. The chapter on the ethics of switching sides mid-campaign is the longest; the chapter on fighting in cities is a single sentence: Do not.
The Count of Marezzia is a novel concerning revenge and financial conspiracy. While it displays unparalleled storytelling ability, I wish to bring to Your Grace’s attention its accounts of Marezzian banking and the mechanics of contract enforcement across the Lusian city-states, including the harsh penalties imposed. Anyone who intends to conduct commercial affairs in the region, or who believes herself exposed to legal action within it, will find it instructive.
Masks and Manoeuvres is yet another; it concerns the relationship between the great banking families of Altomente and the Temple of Eighteen. It has been banned in Altomente. When those in power prohibit a mere story, they do not do so because the book is false, but because the truth is inconvenient. These facts about the book’s reception have led to its wide circulation, and it is customary now in Singhapura to discuss it.
On the theological question of the Temple of Eighteen and its relationship to the Rosantic Ascended: the Reflections of the Moon in Still Water is commonly recommended reading. I instruct Your Grace not to waste her time; the link is a single chapter and commentaries interpreting it; but as for knowledge, there is perhaps less in here than even the ballads sung in taverns; Your Grace is better advised to read the novels.
Folio XII · Of Provinces
Transcribed by Victor Konara