Milan at this time was one of the greatest and wealthiest city-states in all Europe. Its battlements and the spires of its mighty cathedral rose impressively from the lush plain of Lombardy. Towering over the city in the distance were the snow-capped peaks of the Alps. Groves of mulberry trees for the production of its famous silk industry and vast stretches of rice paddies extended far into the surrounding countryside.

Leonardo and Atalante rode along the embankment of one of the many canals. The sight of the city hastened their pace although the journey had been a long one. Frequently on the trip Leonardo had stopped to make notes. Riding over the mountains and ravines surrounding Florence he had drawn some of the rushing streams and the stratifications of exposed cliffs. And when they had descended to the plains he observed the irrigation ditches and made notes on ways of improving the crude systems of dams and waterwheels.

Leonardo was excited by this new city and by his prospects at the court of Ludovico. On the way to his lodgings, he also noticed that Milan was a great center of arms manufacture. Shop after shop displayed its wares of swords, spears, shields, armor for man and horse, and signs advertising foundries for the making of cannon. Perhaps here he might find an outlet for his military inventions.

In the inn where he and Atalante stayed, Leonardo overheard the current political rumors. All around him was talk of the war. Girolamo Riario was again in the field, and Ludovico’s ally, Alfonso of Calabria, had just been defeated by the Venetians in a bloody battle at Campo Morto.

Leonardo reread the letter he had written setting forth his own accomplishments and decided that now was the time to present himself as a military engineer. He would minimize the bronze monument, his music, and his painting, and instead, he would stress his skills in the inventions of war.

When Leonardo appeared before Ludovico, he was a handsome young man of thirty-one. Tall and strong, he was dressed not according to fashion, but simply—almost severely. His hair hung in curls on his shoulders and his auburn mustache and neatly trimmed beard accented his ruddy complexion and deep-set blue eyes. Indeed, he presented a striking contrast to the nobleman seated before him. Il Moro, with his dark skin and straight black hair, his richly embroidered doublet with its broad sleeves and the heavy gold chains across his thick chest, was the exact opposite of Leonardo.

Ludovico set aside Leonardo’s letter, rose from his chair, and walked to the heavy table on which Leonardo had spread out his drawings.

Plans for all manner of war machines were there—those that Leonardo had designed for Lorenzo de’ Medici without success, together with many new additions. For example, there were plans for a self-propelled bomb with flames to be shot out in all directions—a bomb that was later to be called a “rotatory rocket” when it was actually invented in 1846. Leonardo also explained to Ludovico his idea for “poison gas” bombs containing sulfur: the fumes of these bombs would “produce stupor,” and they could be used both on land and sea, together with masks to protect those who were using them. Shrapnel shells, hand grenades, and javelins that burst into flame when they struck their objectives—these and many more were among his ideas.

But perhaps the most unusual to Ludovico’s eyes was the design for an armored vehicle. It was shaped like a giant turtle, with overlapping sheets of reinforced wood so that enemy shells would bounce off its surface. The armor was pierced by loopholes for the breech-loading cannon and there was an opening at the top for ventilation. Power for the vehicle was supplied by eight men inside turning cranks which in turn were cogged to other wheels, setting in motion the four drive wheels. This of course was the forerunner of the tank and the armored car used in modern warfare.