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Lazare pulls his arm away, but slowly. “Someday I’m going to give you a lesson on gunpowder. Piss and wine make it more potent. As it turns out, I’m full of both.”
“But this is the enemy’s powder. Not ours.”
“It will be once Rieux and his troops get here. They’ll confiscate it, spread it out to dry, and it will be good as new.” He winks. “Only better.”
I roll my eyes, pull the shadows more firmly around me, then hurry to catch up to Sybella and Aeva, who have taken the lead. It is a good thing Lazare brings such a unique set of knowledge, because he is also uniquely annoying.
The moon is only half full, enough to see by but not so much that I do not have to pick my path carefully to avoid stepping on a branch that could give us away. That is why I do not see the man until I am nearly upon him. He sits on a fallen log looking out at the night around him. Behind me, a boot crunch on the forest floor has me pressing back against the nearest tree and reaching for my knife.
Sybella is six steps ahead of me, her knife already in her hand. Our eyes meet, and a silent question passes between us.
“You’re late,” the man on the log says.
The approaching sentry—for that is who he is, the changing of the guard—says, “Christ, I haven’t slept more than half a night in I don’t know how long.”
“When are those other troops Rohan promised going to arrive? We’re spread too thin. That’s the only reason them loyalists have been able to get through.”
“How many attacks did the messenger say there were?”
“Two.”
It has been three, so their news is old.
“Told us the relief troops would be here mid-March. Still nothing.”
“You don’t think he lied to us, do you?”
More silence, as neither wants to answer that question. “Could be worse. At least we’re not still dragging all them cannon to Vannes.”
“Hard, slow work, that.”
“It’ll be worth it. That’ll convince Lord Montauban to surrender the city.”
“Then we’ll be able to move on the city. Can’t wait to get let loose among them pigeons.”
* * *
Sybella does not even have to wake the others, as Beast will not sleep until she is safely back, and Yannic will not sleep until Beast does. “We have news,” she says.
Beast motions to Yannic, who wakes up the rest of our party. When we have shared with them what we learned, Beast scratches his chin thoughtfully. “We knew our good fortune couldn’t last.”
“Who says this isn’t a stroke of good fortune?” Lazare asks as he leans against a tree.
“I’ve never known you to be an optimist,” Sybella says.
He shrugs. “I’ll admit, troop reinforcements are not good news. They didn’t happen to mention how many reinforcements or where they were coming from, did they?”
“If they had, I would’ve mentioned it.”
Lazare grunts before continuing. “Well, they’re not here yet. And we have a chance to strike a hard blow.”
“The cannon train,” Beast says.
The smile that spreads across Lazare’s thin face makes him look like a feral fox. “Exactly.”
Chapter 78
Throughout the morning as we ride, we are joined by Arduinnites, in small groups of two and three at a time. They are easy enough to recognize—they all dress like Aeva, with their legs and arms covered in brown leather and their vests made out of fur. There is also a wildness about them, a sense of living close to both the forest and the gods. They are not threatening, they simply slip out from the trees and join our party. I have never seen so many before—nearly thirty.
“Why are they here?” I ask Aeva.
She regards me a long moment. “They are offering their aid in this venture.”
“I am glad of it, but why? This does not seem like their fight.”
She glances at the Arduinnites trailing behind us. “Our mission is to protect the innocent. That mission does not stop with a Frenchman sitting atop the throne. That is still our work. And,” she adds after a moment, “what better way to protect innocents than avert war?”
I cannot argue with her reasoning, so do not.
We spend nearly the entire day talking about the cannon train and how best to approach it.
“We could simply free their horses,” Aeva points out. “Then they would have nothing to pull them with.”
“But they could still be used at a later date. Would it not be better to destroy them?” Poulet suggests.
“You mean destroy the powder like we have been? Won’t they just get more?” Aeva asks.
“No. I mean destroy the cannon themselves.”
“Easier said than done, I think,” Beast says. “It takes eight pounds of powder to launch a cannonball. I can’t imagine how much it would take to destroy a whole cannon.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” Lazare says. “They’re all made of metal, but most have been pieced together so they’re vulnerable at the joints. It only takes a little more powder, loaded in a slightly different way, to make the entire thing explode.”
Beast steers his horse away before it nips at Lazare’s. “I have seen that happen in the field. One minute the cannoneer is putting the flame to the powder, the next everyone within spitting distance has been killed by the explosion.” He shakes his head. “It is always tragic.”
“Except when it is our enemy,” Lazare points out.
“What if we do both?” I suggest. “What if we cut the horses loose and ensure they are far away by the time we set off an explosion?”
Lazare picks up where I leave off. “Which we will do by picking a few cannon in strategic positions. When they go off, they will destroy not only themselves, but those close to them. If nothing else, they will incinerate the wagons and carts they’re carried on and will be unable to be moved until new ones are built. But once we do this, it will become too dangerous for us to remain nearby. The explosion will be seen for miles.”
“So we go north,” Beast says. “To where Duval and Ismae are. Rohan will keep looking for us here, but we will move on. And if we stay ahead of those expected reinforcements, we can do some damage up there. At the very least, we can harry the supply trains, disrupt the food sources, take out bridges—generally slow th
em down and make it harder so the garrisons we have freed will have a chance to fight back.”
One by one, we all nod.
“The cannon train,” Beast says. “Then north.”
Chapter 79
We spend two nights following the cannon train, paying close attention to how it settles itself for the night. There are twenty cannon, each pulled by ten horses. Two drivers are assigned to each transport, and one man to follow alongside to shout out a warning should anything start to slip or go wrong. That is sixty men and two hundred horses, plus grooms and handlers and an additional twenty armed guards. This will not be easy.
On the second night, Lazare and two other charbonnerie sneak into the camp to test both their alertness and, more important, to see what kind of powder they have brought. The sleeping guards stir not at all, which answers one question.
When Lazare and the others return, he is rubbing his hands in glee. “It is corned powder, not serpentine.”
“Good,” Beast says, although it is clear that it means little to him. “What kind of watch did they post?”
“A dozen guards camped near the horses, but only two that are awake. They change every four hours. There are another two posted on watch at the main camp, just outside the perimeter.”
“Perfect,” Sybella says.
On the third night, we make our move. “Horses first,” Aeva reminds us. “Once they are free, the other Arduinnites will encourage them to scatter before the explosion goes off. But first we must deal with their guards.”
“Do we kill them?” I ask.
Aeva gives me a mocking look. “They are transporting weapons to destroy hundreds of innocents in the city. Of course we kill them.”
“It just seems different when they’re asleep,” I point out.
“Yeah, it’s easier,” says Lazare.
I spread out with the others. When Lazare reaches the closest guard, a second heart starts up inside my chest, stopping as Lazare coshes him on the head—killing him instantly and releasing his soul.
