‘And Laroche?’ asked Marcel from the captain, who glowered at the fat man.
‘Hangs, nothing is different,’ he said darkly.
‘Laroche and that one,’ I said evenly, ‘fought and killed several uhlans, even surprised. They thought Syphilis dead, lost and told me to follow. It is my fault. You can, perhaps, blame him for abandoning the chicken, though.’ They laughed, the men did and I was so happy, for I loved them, they apparently loved me and the filthy men felt like family, for the first time, but not the last. Captain took Laroche by ear, whispered some nasty words to his ear and then kicked him off, and the wounded chasseur apparently took his first breath in a long time, as they would apparently not have to decorate a bough, after all.
Marcel appeared, pulled me down, and hugged me fiercely, and I did not mind it. He whispered to me: ‘we will make sure Laroche gets thin for what he did, but if it is any condolence, he cried of shame, the fat man did.’
‘He saved my life too, so I forgive him.’
‘Jeanette!’ Henri yelled. ‘So there are Austrians out there?’
‘Uhlans, Poles,’ I said and the men frowned while ordering wine and brandy from my mother, who was suddenly in a terrible hurry, unable to serve the multitude of demanding voices. I glanced at Vivien whose face was green from jealousy, and felt sorry for her, for none of this was truly her fault. She gazed at me and turned away.
Henri grunted. ‘Jeanette, would you join me for dinner and tell me more of the uhlans?’ he asked carefully and eyeballed my mother. ‘The least I can do, Madame Baxa. She saved one of my men.’
Henriette pulled Marcel to the wagon and ordered him to take over, his face a mask of desperation in midst of the clamoring company and she came to Henri and smiled like a mother smiles at unsavory men wooing one’s daughter. Then she started to urgently whisper something to Henri, whose face twitched with amusement as he answered with apparent calm and respect. Henriette quit whispering, walked by and nodded at me. ‘Make sure you do nothing with that man, except eat well, pray and talk. He promised me he would attempt nothing.’
‘Mother! After all, I am grown up…’
‘You,’ she poked me, ‘are a woman. A fool. I told him you have some strange rotting disease from the Temple, anyway. Remember also that you are a soldier.’
‘You did not!’
‘I did!’ she hollered, and walked away briskly, for Marcel was entirely overwhelmed, unable to serve the men as they demanded, men who especially begged for wine. I smiled at that for I had kept one bottle for myself.
Later, I entered the captain’s tent, where he was sitting on the table, relaxed in his shirtsleeves and I produced the local red wine, which he took gingerly, as if holding an excellent price. ‘Your mother threatened to kill me if I so much as made a vulgar joke.’
‘Oh Henri,’ I said, like a fool, smiling fondly. ‘I love coarse jokes.’ I was not sure what they were like in the army, but I was determined to be happy and I was too excited to be ashamed by anything I said. ‘Did she make foolish notions that I might… for I do not!’
‘They all say things like that to lecherous older men, Jeanette, mothers do.’ He grinned, and I was sure he was flirting as he opened the wine, and then he served delicious chicken and well-cooked cabbage to battered tin plates, and gestured for me to take a seat, following suit. Later that night, I was drunk and in fact, I realized, I had never been drunk. It was amusing, liberating and strange, and only somewhere, very far in the back of my mind, I knew I should be careful. Henri was polite as a noble to a lady and grateful for the fare and my services that day, a bit drunk as well yet tough as nails as he described his hatred of Chambon, after I had made a horrible imitation of the fat buffoon.
Henri laughed, languid and happy. ‘That a creature like him would choose the army, is beyond me. The fat bastard was a horrible lieutenant, you know that? Useless one. Then, his brother, a Girdonist, apparently farted an order and made strange magic and so this useless piece of lard received the captaincy of the depot company, where he created unspeakable chaos, to the degree that none wanted to admit it was our depot company and we had to retrain all the men who went through there. Then came the terror, and in this regiment, Jeanette, four out of six captains were sent to Paris for consultations that turned out to be executions and Chambon appeared and took over the elite carabinier company! We received new captains from different brigades, thanks to Paris, most of whom were peasants with hay still sticking from their bleeding boots, and when the colonel was finally taken away, Chambon was raised to the spot, and that, my girl, is magic that is hard to fathom. Corrupt fucking system. I was kicked down from the staff to captain of a company, but I do not mind, for I get to do some real fighting. I love to fight, yes I do.’
I giggled at his anger. ‘Marcel said the captain of this company was a…’
He waved his hand, lazily, apparently having fond memories of the late captain. ’Freckles? A nice man, hated the Jacobins, but no nice men are to lead a band of cutthroats. The second company was merged with the fifth after the losses in the Sergosi battle, it was that bad, and the captain of the fifth, this pleasingly kind man Freckles, well; he got many men killed with him. The captain was a miller!’ he said, tearing at chicken bone, lounging in his chair, relaxed. Outside, someone was singing, and the mood was carefree, happy. He looked alarmed as he ogled at me, mid chew on the bone. ‘Do not take me wrong. I have nothing against peasants or millers.’
‘Really? A noble with illusions of equality?’
He laughed harshly. ‘There are, dear, wild wolves and tame sheep, and nobles are of the former. I am a wolf indeed, but I do not hate the sheep, even if I devour one occasionally.’
I sipped wine cautiously, for my head swum, and I was giggling a bit too much. God, I had forgotten everything I had promised and endured, imagine that, love, and I wanted to be a sheep he ravenously devoured. I was a slut, dear. I wanted him, and did not understand what I was doing, confused as a colt running around a meadow, little heeding I might break my leg on a hole, yet, I wanted to pull his strings a bit, first. ‘It seems the sheep have tethered the wolves in France.’
He scowled at me, clearly unhappy with the turn of the discussion, but did not back down. ‘Indeed. Yet, the sheep have mostly eaten the other sheep. We, the nobles have lost our lofty titles and much of our wealth, but the damnable fighter is still here, the spirit that made us nobles to begin with is still mighty strong throughout the class and most people killed by the mad degrees of the Public Safety apparatus are people like you, merchants and peasants. Did you truly like the queen?’
I was startled by his question, and a bit shaken by his declaration that it was not the nobles who suffered most for the revolution, but I nodded. ‘Yes, she saved my life, though if she meant to do so, I do not know.’
‘She would have, in any case. You see, she was a noblewoman, and while she could party like a harlot all night, have indecent and barely veiled affairs, and God knows it is hard to condemn her for that for her husband was an imbecile; she would also act according to her creed. She would stick to her sovereign and noble rights, for to lose them, there would be a world filled with merchants and peasants. She would feel superior to you, but she would have spared your life for it is a noble thing to do, and part of the justice she could serve. Nobility, Jeanette, is a reward for the bravest in the society, though granted, not all are brave or just, but as a rule, we will remain nobles for that quality. God, she was braver than the king, though I hear the king died well as he should.’
I thought he was right, for Henri was very brave, braver than most men I had met and likely, due to that fact, the noblest man I had ever seen. ‘She was friendly and kind to me, yes, though I felt like a worm in her presence. However, I don’t think it is right that you class nobles over merchants, for theirs is of a different kind of bravery, having to face bankruptcy with nobody to bail them free, should they fail. One must be brave to face starvation and ignominy. I dare say the
merchants feed your kind, no? In addition, I know nobles kill people with very few reasons, and get away with it. I…’
Henri grinned foolishly, quaffing. ‘Indeed? So you were a merchant? And if you noticed, pretty one, today I was indeed fed by you, so perhaps you are right!’
I blushed, but continued. ‘Book print, that was the family business, yes. Everyone knows that the nobles have stamped over the commoners for centuries. It is not right; that much I agree with the revolution.’
He poured some more wine and gazed at me, languid in his seat, still not over his brief mirth. ‘You have seen the revolution. When did you see nobles behaving so? Mutilating, killing, raping people they have never met, like a pack of ravening hounds tearing at the fallen mantle of power and the people in the way of it?’
I nodded. ‘Is it thus you feel for me?’
‘Pardon?’ he said, eyeing the wine carefully.
‘Towards mother and me. You saved us, because it was a noble thing to do?’
‘Yes, and to snub the bastards.’
‘Even if you lose your head? You would do this to anyone under their sword? If I were a fat grandmother smelling of feces, you would have thrown yourself between me and Chambon, full of fire?’
‘Yes!’
‘Liar,’ I mumbled.
He sighed. ‘Perhaps I am. But I have to make a confession, for I know a man in the politics, who is powerful, also, a former noble. Paul Barras. My friend fought in India and is now a commissioner of the army. In Genoa, he is, right now, I think and he has power and influence, the bastard, more than I know, likely.’
‘You,’ I laughed merrily, ‘snub the politicians, and then rely on one to keep you alive? This the man you sent the letter you mentioned?’
‘I am a soldier, Jeanette. I use the advantages I have, and enjoy them profusely, for surprise is the first and only law of war,’ he said, smiling. ‘Yes, I sent him a letter, though he has not deigned to answer. Perhaps our friendship is getting too heavy for his career?’
I cleared my throat. ‘You did not save us because you like me?’ That question was the bravest thing I had done, I felt, even above the fight with the uhlans and facing Gilbert.
He laughed, nervously, apparently wrestling with himself. Then he spoke slowly. ‘Your mother might be outside with a pistol.’
‘Do you like the older and fatter girls better?’ I pressed him.
‘No,’ he said softly. ‘I might have lied there, as well, but as I said, your mother…’
‘She is a terrible shot,’ I said, leaning forward, aware that my shirt was loose and my bosom was nearly bared as I did so. Henri enjoyed the view, it was clear, and after looking at the sight for a moment, he turned his face away, playing the stoic noble, but there was a look on his face, one of desire, and one I shared. I straightened myself and got up, pushing my promises to God far away, for a fool and a child had given them. I shuffled around the table and came to stand next to him, not entirely sure what to do, but I braved all and ran my fingers through his hair, feeling a complete amateur, afraid of tangles and of hurting him, but he let me experiment. I felt a slight tremor in him as I put my finger on his neck, running it up and down. His grey eyes turned to regard me ferally, his desire evident and I leaned down to kiss his neck, and then his chin and he, gloriously, pulled me on his lap.
He took over the kiss, his lips playing with mine, forcing them resolutely and passionately apart, with such strength I involuntarily whimpered. He moved to kiss my throat, and his hand opened my shirt as his face kissed the flesh there, finally finding a nipple, which he gently caressed with skill that bespoke of experience. I put my hands on his shoulders, and felt him hardening under me. His kisses found places of pleasure I did not know about and I moaned silently in ecstasy, enjoying his exploration. Florian? God, Marie. It had been nice, perhaps, but this was love and true lust, all mixed together in glorious, patient moments of joy I never wanted to end.
I let him take off my shirt and I bared my bosom to him fully. His lips ate my breasts, licked them, kissed them above and below and his hands stroked my belly vigorously, as if trying to mold me. I kissed his neck and throat, enjoying his taste of sweat and man, and took his shirt down around his hips, massaging his shoulder muscles. Then I put my hand on his thigh, feeling his hardened manhood under me and I reached down, stroked it, and it moved, as if searching for me. He got up, nearly dropping me on the ground. He pushed the plates off the table and lifted me there. I lay back, as he pulled my skirt down, his eyes glistening with lust as he saw me bared and soon pursed before his eyes as I lifted my rear so he could pull the skirt away entirely. He put his hand on my inner thigh, slid it down, separating my legs and what followed, was fire.
His hands were touching me expertly, stroking and kneading until I shuddered, his eyes enjoying my pleasure, but not giving me mercy. I came, Marie, so forcefully the table quivered, and he was patient, letting me finish. I put my hand on my face, breathing hard and laughed happily. In the meantime, he kissed my thighs, my belly, controlling my movements as he moved lower, and it did not take long for me to be ready again. Lovemaking, Marie, with a patient man, is the best treat in the world. Finally, he shed his pants, I saw his demanding erect cock and with my legs around him, I pulled him close, and he entered me. He was superb, thrusting with purpose, finding what pleased me, what pleased him, and we melted into a lustful, functional rhythm. I climaxed, I think, two times, and then, after ages of pleasure, he shuddered, fell over me, his face full of joy, and he came, gloriously, his juices running down my buttocks. I held on to his face and kissed him gently while he was panting close to me. We were very happy then. I loved him, I thought.
And so, I said it. ‘I love you, captain.’
At that is when he stopped being happy, for he shut his eyes, and lying there silently on top of me, he sighed, not about to return the sentiment. He gently got out of me and up and pulled me after him. I was blushing, trembling and could not understand, and tried to touch him, but he grabbed my hands, holding them firmly. He opened his eyes and there was a haunted look there. ‘I cannot, Madame say those words.’
‘We just made love. I am well old enough…’
‘Ah, but your age does not matter. And Jeanette, there is a difference between love and lust and this was not love.’
I pulled clothes over my chest and his eyes had an amused look at the reaction, as if it was expected and something he had seen before. ‘What, pray tell me, would you have me say? I…’ I started, but he shrugged, pulled out a cigar from the side of his bed. He seemed to have a ready stock of them everywhere.
‘I’m afraid I was not very noble,’ he said languidly. ‘You are intelligent and brave beyond any girl I have seen before, but you are not astute in this matters, and we are different.’ His eyes avoided me as he lifted his pants and started to pull them on.
Then I understood
‘You think I am not good enough for you.’ I felt cold, merciless claws rake my soul as I dreaded his answer.
He took a deep breath. ‘To be honest, no,’ he said. ‘I am a nobleman, you are not of the class, and no revolution will change these significant differences. Fear not, for I didn’t use you like a whore, but neither can I marry you. It was mutual satisfaction in a very unsatisfactory world, a sprinkling of happiness amidst dark times. We had sex, and note, I did not take pleasure solely for myself, but also gave it, and it was a bargain for both, I think. I have the confidence to claim so. You are a brave girl, my friend, and I hold you in high esteem, even after this.’
It took me awhile as I dressed awkwardly, trying to cover myself as best I could from his probing, amused eyes, but finally, I managed it with some dignity and turned towards him. He nodded, mysteriously nonchalant, waiting.
‘You too, citizen captain are very brave,’ I told him, cursing the tears that came. He looked faintly amused by them, and I was shocked how very hurt I felt. ‘And we thank you for that bravery and the shifty home you have provided u
s, we honestly do. I hope you enjoyed the chicken and the woman, and let us not speak more of it.’
He put his legs on the table. ‘Thank you, I did enjoy both. Do not be upset. I am a noble, for it is not something the Republic can strip from a man, as I told you, and I respect you, wish you to be a friend, but I think it is best you work with the canteen now. This would be, it seems, a bit awkward, for despite your words, I have a hunch you do not take this as I did, as a trivial dalliance.’
I nodded, grateful to be spared his company in the future. ‘And the protection you have afforded us? Is that now spent?’
‘As I told you, I am like the queen in that regard and I keep my word and guard you and your mother, though perhaps you are right to think I might not have gone through all this for a grandmother. But I am not in love with a silly girl who confuses sex for affection.’ His eyes looked hard as coals, and then I slapped him so hard his cigar flew to the corner.
I turned and collected myself, smoothed my clothes, rushed out of the tent and heard him laugh after me hollowly and when I got to mother, I smiled at her, told her I was fine, just drunk and tired, and went to bed. Cleft was there, waiting for me, about to say something meaningful, apparently having waited for me, but I shook my head in anger and lay down. I felt him staring for a while, angry and disappointed and he knew something had happened. And he was hurt.
I cried myself to sleep in shame, for I was a fool, and I still loved the fucking captain, Marie. God, I had been happy, but then, suddenly, so unhappy. It made no sense.
CHAPTER 14
Next morning, the company began marching. It took the point of the whole tired battalion that was slowly wounding its cumbersome way after us through the silent hills, seas of shrubs, pleasant light woods full of birdsong and delightful streams. The Col di Cadibona was a pass in the mountainous and hilly grounds north of the recently subdued city of Savona, which was the key to the route between Nice and Genoa, all crucial to France. The land was fertile enough, though not enough so to feed both the roving armies and the suffering locals. By now, our wary men were all aware there was hostile cavalry out here, and nothing frightens light infantry more than aggressive enemy cavalry. There had been no signs of the French hussars, who were probing along somewhere in the area. Marcel kept his cursing men running out ahead as per Henri’s instructions, and our wagons trundled along. There were some good roads running towards north, ones that could easily carry military along with heavier cannon across the steep slopes. Vivien’s wagon was following us as she was staring at us woodenly, her cat-like eyes smoldering for it was admittedly unfair towards her that we were there. Henriette scowled at her as we travelled cumbersomely under a canopy of low branches, apparently not feeling any sympathy for her. I wondered at that and she noticed, took a ragged breath, and made my day worse. ‘She has been singing this unfortunate song.’
Reign of Fear: Story of French Revolution and Napoleonic Wars (Cantiniére Tales) Page 28