The Royalist defeat at Montpellier boldened the Council. The fleets anchored at both Caen and Saint-Nazaire were attacked, with the ships at Caen being burnt to below the waterline, and almost professional armies marched out, intent on spreading the message of their Council.
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The months after the disaster at Montpellier were hard for me. I received news that Castel Avril had fallen, that that whole region had been set aflame, and I was given no time to process it, instead being bounced from one hotspot to another. After six months of crisscrossing France I eventually ended up in the small town of Saint-Melo on a mission of great importance. I had to fight to keep the scowl from my face as an Englishwoman stepped up to my table in the tavern I’d made my base.
"It's Amabel isn't it? Blessings of the saints upon you." The Englishwoman checked me out from head to toe and I gestured at a seat when she nodded. "Please sit."
Amabel dropped into the empty chair and swung her legs up to rest them on the table. I sniffed in disapproval and she laughed before beginning to speak in passable French.
"To business then Miss Agent?"
"My Queen has arranged with your's the transference of people and capital from France to England. You've been sent to make this happen."
She snorted and I could see amusement in her eyes.
"Your war is going that badly?"
I glowered for a moment, remembering what General Martel had said during my briefing.
"I have been told that a similar agreement existed during your own country's civil war. But no the war isn't going badly."
"Sure. People don't flee floating ships though."
After Amabel had left to get back to her ship I stayed in the tavern's main room for a while. I'd been told that certain nobles were leaving for England so that the money from the colonies could still be collected but her words had struck a chord. I was disturbed from my brooding by the undisciplined tramping of feet, the atmosphere in the tavern becoming thick with tension. Whitecoats filed into the tavern, roughly brushing past patrons or actively chasing them from tables. Three of the troopers bullied their way to my table, moving to stand around me.
"This is our table citizen."
"Is it?" I took hold of the mug in front of me. "I thought I was sitting here."
One of the troopers leant forward, pushing into my personal space.
"You're not anymore. Move."
I glanced at each of the whitecoats around me, sizing them up, before sighing and whilst going to stand raised my voice.
"I thought the Council was all about equality."
The sergeant glanced over at us, a mug halfway to her lips.
"Without us the Queen will put you back in your place citizen. That entitles us to a bit more than you I think."
Part of me was quietly pleased that the idea of equality was something only the deluded believed. Dodging around people I took a seat midway up the staircase to the tavern's first floor. The fourteen whitecoats I could see were spread out in little groups, steadily getting drunk over the course of a couple of hours, and I waited until even the sergeant was facedown at her table. Everyone else had departed from the tavern whilst the soldiers had been there, the owner and barmaids disappearing into their private rooms, and I carefully moved from trooper to trooper, looking for anything resembling orders on each one before heading up to my own room.
In the morning I headed to the docks with the Lady Bijou Camoynes and her maidservant, shivering as we passed the equipment set up in the town square. We walked along the quay until coming across Amabel's ship, aghast as we beheld the rickety monstrosity sitting among the well-made French vessels around it. The Lady Bijou Camoynes scoffed loudly, drawing breath to start speaking, and I carefully took her by the arm.
"My Lady, it is either stay here and risk being given to Madam Guillotine or escape to England. Queen Marie has put a lot of trust in you."
The Lady Bijou Camoynes glanced back towards the square and the guillotine there. The Council had expanded its territory so rapidly that other methods of execution had fast become inefficient. With a heavy sigh the aristocrat turned back to the English ship and I pounded against its hull with a fist.
A scruffy-haired boy, more likely a teenager, leant over the railing of the ship after a moment.
"What want?"
I glanced at the Lady Bijou Camoynes, only understanding a handful of what the boy had said, and frowned when she also shrugged in incomprehension.
"I’m sorry for Jack." I glanced up at Amabel, the Englishwoman having replaced the boy at the railing. "I'll get the gang-plank extended."
After walking up the gang-plank I glanced around. It was easy to spot Jack, already beginning to look like the giant he was growing into, and nearly a half-dozen other girls could be seen. Amabel was also easy to spot, the blonde wearing only a tabard that came to mid-thigh.
"This slut is the woman you are entrusting me to?"
The Lady Bijou Camoynes' shrill cry sounded out across the deck, her maid pressing close to her as the crew turned to glare at us.
"Please my Lady. It is only a short trip across the channel."
"And if I offend your delicate sensibilities my cabin is just there in the aftcaste."
I waited until the aristocrat had vanished before turning to Amabel.
"Our Queens have an agreement. Break it by harming the Lady Bijou Camoynes and you will be hunted down."
"You were so much nicer last night. Did she get your panties in such a twist?"
After making sure that the Lady Bijou Camoynes was settled in I departed from Amabel's ship, slowly ambling back towards the tavern. The sound of a horse coming up behind me had me stepping aside but I then staggered forward as something heavy was thrust into my back. I twisted, eyes widening as I realized that my attacker had been one of the whitecoats who'd harassed me in the tavern. Another from that group sat upon the horse, a rope in her hands. I'd seen what would happen next while travelling through Council territory, soldiers hauling people to the guillotine for just the flimsiest reason. That opened the floodgates in the watching crowd and then I'd seen rival shopkeepers denounce each other, jealous lovers claim fellow bedmates are Royalist.
I wouldn't let these toy soldiers drag me to the town square. Drawing my pistol I shot the trooper astride the horse, using the stunned stillness to take out my dagger and bury it in the heart of the trooper who'd attacked me. Pulling the corpse from the spooked horse I mounted it, glancing up and down the street to see if anyone had seen the scuffle. The soldiers would eventually be missed and then found, it was likely that the third member of their group who would be the first to notice, and I wanted to leave Saint-Melo before that. Thank God I handed the Lady Bijou Camoynes to Amabel before getting into a fight.
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