Page 65 of A Fierce Wind

“’Tis a splendid flag,” she said gazing up at the banner unfurled against the cloudless blue sky.

The sight of the blue flag quartered by a white cross with the upper left quadrant red with a white ermine brought back her uncle’s words. “The corsairs are proud of their Catholic roots and many support the royalists. They also value their independence and fly their own flag, even during the revolution.”

Not long after, they sailed into the ancient harbor with its imposing medieval ramparts. Zoé’s spirits rose when she saw the harbor clogged with sailing vessels. Amid so many ships perhaps they could slip in, leaving the authorities unaware.

As soon as the Pigeon dropped anchor, M’sieur Bequel dispatched a skiff carrying gunpowder, shot and wadding packed in barrels like the ones used to transport cod. Zoé watched from the rail as a few members of the crew rowed Freddie and Gabe the short distance to shore. Before they had even pulled the boat over the sand, a group of four men met them, one very tall, whom she took to be Cadoudal. They did not dress as Chouans but as seamen wearing knit caps.

The barrels were hefted out of the boat and rolled to a waiting wagon over planks laid down as a pathway over the sand. Once that was accomplished, the skiff returned to the ship and Freddie climbed aboard. “Cadoudal sends his regards, Pigeon. Now we bring the muskets.”

The crew stepped lively at Gabe’s direction to lower two boxes of muskets to the skiff. As before, they rowed Freddie and Gabe ashore. “At this speed,” she said under her breath, “it will take all day.”

Just then, she noticed two republican soldiers had turned their attention to the men unloading the long boxes. The soldiers fixed their gazes on the activity at the shore’s edge and headed toward Freddie and Cadoudal overseeing the delivery.

Zoé began to bite her knuckles. “Not again,” she muttered.

M’sieur Bequel joined her at the rail. “Have no worries, little one. Capitaine Donet’s colleagues are dependable. See?” he said, pointing to a group of sailors striding toward Freddie and the Chouans, “The corsairs arrive just on time, n’est-ce pas?”

A group of swarthy seamen placed themselves in front of Freddie, his crew and the Chouans and turned to face the republican soldiers.

The soldiers stopped, shrugged and turned away.

Mystified, she turned to M’sieur Bequel. “They leave at the sight of the corsairs?”

“Oui, little one. The privateers have commanded this port for generations and defend the coast against England. From a very old arrangement they had with the king, which they still honor, they bring much money to the government and food to the tables of the people. Even Robespierre would not be so foolish as to defy them.”

When the final weapons were unloaded and carted away by the Chouans, Freddie returned to the ship and kissed her on the forehead. “’Tis a done thing, Pigeon.”

“Will the corsairs help us again, do you think?

“Oh oui. They rather enjoyed reminding the republican soldiers who is really in charge of the port.”

7 August

Finally, the day of their wedding dawned bright and clear. Freddie awakened early. While he dressed, he smiled to himself. The long wait was nearly at an end.

Warned not to see his bride before they met at the church, he sneaked downstairs while the women and the guests still slept. Before he was halfway down, the heavy scent of blossoms assaulted his nostrils. Glancing from side to side, he saw flowers everywhere. They were entwined in vines on the staircase, clustered with bows on the chandeliers and set in arrangements on tables. “My sister,” he mumbled beneath his breath.

In the dining room, he found Donet sitting at the table staring into his coffee.

Fighting a sneeze, Freddie said, “It seems the ladies have been decorating.”

“Since last night,” Donet replied in droll fashion.

At the sideboard, Freddie found a veritable feast of pastries, fruit and eggs, enough to stave off his hunger until the wedding breakfast, which would really be a noon meal. Piling food onto his plate, he took his seat across from Donet. “At last the day has arrived,” he said in a cheery voice.

Donet regarded his happy countenance. “You did not expect to be held at bay so long, mon ami, but your face tells me you do not doubt my niece is worth the wait.”

“No, I have never doubted that. ’Sides, what could we do when Richard accepted the invitation but begged for a delay? It was good of you to send Bequel with la Reine Noire to transport them to Guernsey.” In his letter, Richard expressed concern about meeting French warships on the Channel. “Your defeat of the Trajan impressed him.”

“And you have kept busy?”

“Indeed. The selection of the crew for my new schooner occupied much of my time and then there was the first delivery of the promised weapons and ammunition to Brittany.”

“I expect the Chouans are pleased.”

“They seemed to be, though Cadoudal voice some concern about whether there would be more.”

“He will come to trust you.”