Alaric Longward - Cantiniére Tales)

by Reign of Fear: Story of French Revolution

  ‘What is this?’ Henri growled at Saliceti.

  ‘It is nothing, colonel, as I said,’ Saliceti said tiredly and gestured imperiously for Gilbert, dismissing confused Voclain. Gilbert ignored his former compatriot and rode to us. Marcel kept an untiring musket aimed at him, but Gilbert ignored it. We stared resolutely at each other for a while, while the companies relaxed. Voclain was whispering to Saliceti as the gendarmes captured Chambon, who had tried to run.

  Gilbert shrugged. ‘Foiled once again, cousin.’

  Henriette waved at me. ‘She has done nothing to you she does not regret, Gilbert. It’s over now.’

  He shook his head. ‘I am sorry, it is not over. Nothing has changed. I was right to fear you. You have made my life very, very hard. Many know of my past, mocking me and I cannot rest, be reborn and happy. Never with you alive. So I will have to be much harsher in the future. Try much harder. As for this situation? I will fix it. The contract your friend Danton hinted at is still there, in place. And I know you guessed; there are still men alive whose name is on that paper. Perhaps not men who rule, but men who will rule. They will want me, but not for the guillotine. We shall meet again, after I have fought some battles in Paris.’

  I was frustrated and tried, beyond hope, to reason with him. ‘This life will kill you, cousin, and no matter how much we despise each other, it is not my wish to see you die. Perhaps we could ask this Barras to save you, if you just find new venues in life.’

  He shook his head. ‘You ask him to spare me? I will do that myself. Do something else? Hah! That would be fine, Jeanette. I suppose I could farm, perhaps? No. I just quite simply do not know how to do anything else. This life has corrupted me as it did Georges. I only know one way forward, even if it will take time now. You will be gone, eventually. I will make it terrible. Then, I will rise and rule, even if it will take forever. God, it will be so. This family will begin anew from me, and it will be glorious.’

  ‘Gilbert,’ I told him desperately. ‘You might die. You know Paris. Make peace.’

  He grinned as he glanced at Saliceti’s scowling face. ‘We will see. I grant you, it might not be easy. I have people who will bide their time and deliver you onto me, when the time is ripe and I have foiled them for long enough. There are deadly hammers, Jeanette, I wield from afar, and you are a small and fragile nail, and there is nothing you can do to hurt me back, for I have no soul nor weaknesses.’

  ‘Did you hurt the siblings?’ Henriette asked him, her voice trembling.

  ‘I did not,’ he told us, arching his back and cursing the pain in his abdomen. Marcel smirked at him for that, but he ignored him, apparently considering him another nail. ‘I did not touch the siblings.’

  ‘Thank you for that, Gilbert. Do you where…’ Henriette began, but Gilbert raised his hand.

  ‘Not yet. I will find out where they are. I am sorry, but I cannot let them go. I will have to be terrible. All of you will go to heaven, if God will have you. I doubt it. You are no better than I.’

  ‘You will not let them go?’ I asked him, swallowing my fear of him.

  ‘I swear to God, Jeanette, that I will not. We have gone too far.’

  ‘I swear to God, Gilbert, that I am done feeling sorry for the past.’ I meant it as I said it. I was done with it. He would come for us, no matter what happened, no matter what was said and so I made my oaths and took old Robert’s words at heart. Offence is the solution to life’s many problems. ‘I will not go to heaven, Gilbert, for I will break all heaven’s laws to foil you. If you will not let us be, I shall find ways of hurting you. We will find out if you are the Revenant or not. You will suffer in my hands and I shall no longer be sorry. I always knew how to fight. You know this. I have tried to kill you twice, and that one time, I beat you, that is the truth. But now, I will spare no ammunition and I will forget who you were, once. I’ll be cold like you, at least until I am free of you.’

  ‘I lived, so you did not beat me,’ he said with rising anger playing on his voice. ‘It will be interesting to see a Jeanette that does not have a weak heart, one who is always afraid and foolish. A mere slip of a girl, lost in Italy challenging a man who sits in Paris? Interesting.’

  I hissed at him. ‘I shall have no restraints Gilbert. You give us no choice. I’ll give myself to the devil and ask him for help and shall do anything, hurt anyone to keep my family safe.’

  ‘Jeanette…’ Henriette began, but I shook my head.

  He nodded his head as he started to turn his horse. ‘It is as it must be, cousin. And I am sorry I tried to rape you, that one night. But now, I suppose, we both know what must be done. Adieu. We will see you again. Unless they really dare to behead me, of course! I’ll be in jail, no doubt, but only for so long!’

  He turned the horse, straightened his back, pulled out a bag of something substantial and clinking, and threw it at Voclain’s feet. The captain’s eyes largened as he gazed at the bag, then he took it, while scowling at Saliceti. Gilbert spoke something to Voclain softly, while waving Saliceti’s protests down and the captain nodded carefully. Henri face was featureless, as he understood he was a colonel of a very torn battalion.

  Gilbert left, under guard, and so did Chambon, sobbing, devoid of hope and dignity. I prayed to God the Revenant would lie where the king and queen had had their final rest, but in my heart, I doubted it, and feared Voclain who was gazing after Gilbert, as if trying to guess if my cousin still had a future. Despite my brave words, I felt sadly desperate. Marcel clapped my back, shaking his head and Henriette was deep in her thoughts.

  ‘You forsake God to save the siblings?’ she said with a small voice.

  ‘I don’t care for him, I think. Not after Colbert ruined him for me.’

  ‘We will find a way, Jeanette,’ she told me, but I did not care to listen as I wondered what dangers I should avoid and wondered at how I would hurt Gilbert. He was right. How to kill someone like that, when you have been a girl on a run for years and years, with no power other than your will. That would have to do.

  Henri rode to the front of the fourth company and the men stood to rapt attention, Voclain insolently, trying to come to terms with the destruction of the Jacobins. Henri stood up in the saddle. ‘We bury the dead and go home. God helps senile Dumbertion finds his balls, and the scheming Carnot lets us wage a fine war. Now, sergeant major Lefebvre. Take care of the wounded and arrange for a return journey back to the camp after the other companies. Send men to inform them of the changed situation on the command of the battalion.’ Thierry stiffened in anger, as he eyed the new colonel.

  ‘Sergeant major Thierry is now a corporal, and I will transfer him to captain Voclain’s company. Is this acceptable, captain?’ Henri’s voice was sweet and innocent.

  Voclain jerked in surprise and nodded with apparent happiness. ‘Indeed, citizen.’

  Henri grinned at him. ‘As the fifth has suffered heavy casualties, and as I have to supervise it personally, in addition to the whole battalion, I take fifty men from your company, Voclain, and transfer them to the fifth. You keep the rest until some fine reinforcements arrive.’

  Voclain’s face changed from red to white, and then red again, trying to catch breath and Henri was calmly waiting until Voclain managed a slight nod. ‘Which men, I might ask, will I keep, since there are but fifty-four men in mine?’ the disgraced captain asked with a trembling voice.

  ‘You know who you keep, and Thierry will be there too. Build an excellent company with the men who you are left with, captain, and make me proud of the fourth.’ Henri said with apparent seriousness, enjoying the moment. ‘And you will have your cantiniére.’ Vivien was staring at her feet, sitting on her wagon. ‘Thierry?’

  ‘Yes, sir?’ the bushy bearded man said huskily.

  ‘You will go, and bury the dead of the fifth with your new company. You lead them, corporal, and captain Voclain will oversee. Let us hope the uhlans do not return, eh? Your company is understrength, no?’

  ‘Yes, sir,�
�� Voclain said, calmly, fingering the pouch he had been thrown by Gilbert as well as holding the letter by Saliceti. What Saliceti’s letter was about, we had no idea, but Gilbert’s coin had a clear meaning.

  But for now, we were safe. Henri looked at me; I smiled and nodded, and wondered how such a fine man could be such a rotten bastard. He smiled back, happy, for he was promoted, a famous hero and had humiliated his bitter foe. I shared his happiness, to a degree, for we had company, our enemies were cowed, and we had a chance at life.

  But no enemy is more dangerous, than resentful, cowed one. We had a fight ahead of us, Marie, for Voclain’s men buried the dead and there were no uhlans to kill them. I would have to find a way to hurt Gilbert, even kill him and God was not on my side. I discarded my old shoes and pulled out a pair of comfortable uhlan boots. They fit well and I felt like a different woman. I was a soldier.

  PART IV: HAMMERS AND NAILS

  ‘The baby stole a bread from a grenadier yesterday, and didn’t give it back to the man, who surrendered entirely too quickly. The boy might think life is easy as eating pie.’ (Marcel to Henri.)

  CHAPTER 15

  Later that year, Napoleon Buonaparte was released from the ill-famed fort of Antibes. He had been imprisoned by Saliceti, his former friend, and also perversely freed by Saliceti, for the Austrians were getting frisky in the valley of Bormida, and they would come through the pass of Cadibona, and try to cut off the nerveless Army of Italy. Saliceti had been wrong to think that one man was not needed, for the young general was indeed needed, and few of the politicians cared for Jacobin pamphlets, when talent with deadly guns was in demand. He took a position of authority, though not the overall command, instead being subjected to the handsome general Masséna. Piedmont and Austria were now fighting twice as hard as before, for France was threatening the plains of Lombardy, and later, possibly, the entire Austrian holdings in Italy. Something Carnot should have realized.

  We got a little rest, for Savona was to be the linchpin in the Austrian plans. In the damp, formerly docile camp, we noticed a sudden electrifying change. Men were force-marching in; officers were riding back and forth madly carrying orders. The company was on alert, and some harried supply officers told us the news of the Austrians massing men to the north. Evidently, someone convinced Carnot, or someone brave did their own calculations, for one short night we were roused, we packed our gear and our starved men marched north like the devil itself was after us. We did not understand much of the grand plan, few ordinary men did, few officers, in fact few generals did, but loose tongues were wagging. Apparently, our swift, nightly march stole to the rear of Austrian troops travelling south and as we saw the shores of river Bormida on the 19th September 1794, we had apparently made a worthy chess move to upset the enemy’s finest and most intricate plans. We threatened the Austrian's flank on its way to Savona, and what followed, was a frenzied, confused chaos. Troops were marching in all directions, sergeants were cursing; men were falling exhausted on the sides of the road as we took after retreating Austrian army. There were lone shots fired night and day, but we never saw anything more but abandoned enemy trenches and broken gear, and some sad, forgotten corpses, often civilians.

  Then, on 20th, we finally found the enemy army.

  There were Piedmont villages between them and us. Carcare was one, I think, and beyond this, the Austrian army deployed in battle line on small hills. Our army, some fifteen thousand strong began to deploy for an attack, as our generals argued. We sat on the wagon, wondering at it all. ‘They look so clean and white,’ Henrietta said drowsily, gesturing at the enemy ranks on top of low hills, spread out like pale flowers.

  Marcel squinted at the direction of the enemy nearest to us. ‘They are grenadiers, largest men in the battalions. We have them too, but the Austrian grenadiers are tough men,’ Marcel mused, sucking on a pipe. ‘They will not stay, though.’

  ‘Is it like this always?’ Henriette asked. ‘We march, deploy, and then do it again at some other place, until someone tires and goes home?’

  Breadcrumbs, his leg bound, snorted as he came over. Humps was with him, carrying a musket. ‘No, sometimes they fight. We outnumber them, so I doubt we will today.’

  I gave Humps stiff brandy and he grinned at me, red of face. ‘You don’t speak much, do you?’ I teased the sergeant, who shrugged in panic, thinking on something to say.

  ‘So, you are not with the colonel?’ he stammered and then looked up to the sky, cursing himself for not having found anything else to say.

  ‘No!’ I told him and punched his arm. Then, everyone went quiet as Voclain and Thierry ambled over. Thierry grinned at us as his captain used a telescope to examine the enemy lines.

  ‘Corporal,’ Voclain told Thierry, slowly elaborating each word, ‘fetch me a drink from the cantiniére.’ Thierry grinned and strode over.

  Marcel grunted. ‘You have your own cantiniére, captain.’

  Voclain did not stop his scan, and I reluctantly poured him a brandy, resisting an urge to spit in it. Thierry took it, did not pay, and waited until Voclain was done looking at the enemy.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, as he grabbed the tin cup and threw the drink down his throat. His eyes were like those of a snake as he looked around us, scanning the people there. He was no fool; I saw it, though he seemed to stink of rum and now, of brandy. Perhaps he was a sad drunk, but a dangerous and sad one.

  Henriette twitched as the unsavory captain invaded our happy moment, defiling our harmony and good mood. She growled at the man. ‘As Gilbert paid you, in coin, perhaps you can pay for that drink as well?’

  Voclain nodded carefully and pulled a sou from his pocket. He threw it to mother and left. Thierry grinned at Henriette. ‘It was not wise to ask him to spend the money. Now he has to earn it.’ He left after his master, laughing like a mad thing. I wondered if that meant Gilbert had survived, and Voclain no longer had any qualms about things asked of him.

  ‘A bastard,’ Humps said. We looked at him in amusement. ‘Well, it was worth saying, though obvious,’ the sergeant shrugged to the general entertainment.

  ‘Keep talking, Humps, and I might marry you yet,’ I told him, and he looked happy, young and perhaps a bit in love.

  The Austrians moved, we entered the town of Carcare. Then, after a fitful, cold night we marched after the enemy, passing Cairo, where locals gave us wine and bread and the key to the town. In the town, Laroche winked at me, and I jumped down from the wagon, mystified. I saw Charles lurking in the shadows.

  ‘What is going on?’ I asked.

  ‘A tavern, a small one,’ Charles said with a relish, having succumbed to become business partner to us. ‘Beyond the bridge. We march soon, but we should perhaps relieve it of anything the Austrians might have left there. Cleft said he overheard someone mentioning it as having a distillery. Best go quick and loot the shit out of it, before anything else happens to it. I know where it is.’

  So we went. We ran on a muddy riverbank, our gear clanking ominously. I held Danton’s former pistol and I kept checking it. We smiled like devils as we saw two large artillerymen looting a farmhouse nearby. They struggled with eggs and a squealing piglet as they ran for their unit. As we sloshed our way past a bridge we spied a large, ugly stone building and Charles nodded. That was our target. It did not look like a well-to-do tavern, and the splintered door was open, creaking in the slight wind. Birds were singing mournfully and a skinny goat was feeding on hay and grass nearby. ‘Silently, let’s see,’ Laroche said as we sneaked next to a wall, cursing a horde of flies that surrounded us. We got to the door, and guns ready, scared to the bone, we looked inside.

  There was nothing in the forlorn room, no tavern certainly. There were some broken barrels, dirty hay, thin rats scuttling around, and Humps, whose blue tongue lolled on his cheek, his eyes marred with bruises, dead from suffocation as he hung from a beam on a strong rope. Charles looked around, uncomprehending the sight and I took some unsteady steps inside. It was not t
o be denied. He was dead.

  Laroche grunted. ‘Perhaps he was found alone, looting?’ Laroche’s eyes were darting to the shadows, seeking danger.

  I shook my head as I looked at the friendly sergeant. ‘No. He was not an idiot. He would not have gone alone. He flirted with me. That’s what happened. It was Thierry and the bastard Voclain.’ Gilbert’s hand reached far, and I thought about his words as I cried for Humps. He could hurt me; I could not hurt him. Voclain was playing a game for the Revenant, a wicked, deadly game by nibbling at us from all sides until it was our turn to fall.

  We took him down, and I held his cold hand as Charles and Laroche carried the corpse, cursing and angry. He had been a good man and would be missed. We would need to deal with the bastards, and Laroche caught my eyes and nodded. He agreed. I was so glad, Marie, the fat thief was our fat thief.

  When we got to the town, we left the body with the doctors busy with exhaustion patients and the normal minor wounds and ails men suffer from while on campaign. There were preparations for large-scale care on the way; bedding and dressing were being heaped and everyone was too busy to give Humps time he would have deserved. He was a but a heap of dead meant, just one corpse to be buried and yet he had been a man I had liked. I raised my head from Humps and noticed Voclain and his men, looking at me with a small smile. I ignored Henriette, who was gesturing for me, while giving some bitter wine to the men of company. I was making a mistake, I knew, but Humps was dead, Voclain was grinning at us and I decided it was time for the nail to show the hammer it was not an insipid, easy target. I spat in derision, fumbled with a belt Humps was wearing and marched for the captain. ‘Don’t!’ Laroche said, but I ignored him.