Revolution: Montpellier Massacre: Part One

I gained a scar because of the shoot-out, and also lost my reason to stay in Lille. I returned to Castel Avril, recommending that the city be reclaimed sooner rather than later, and was then sent across the country to the Council-held port of Montpellier.

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Lille was clearly a late-starter, Montpellier possessing a militia equal to the force deployed by the Army. Its wall had also not only been rebuilt but improved and frequent patrols could be seen marching atop it. That was what I discovered as part of General Barreau's skirmish detachment, spending each night observing the port and its defenders.

The officer in overall charge of the skirmishers was a rogue called Fay. She was a veteran of the Iberian campaign, part of the garrison watching the mountain passes, and although far from the mountains where she honed her skills Fay was still a capable warrior. We were scouting when Barreau ordered an artillery barrage, multiple volleys of shells arcing overhead. The gunners were aiming for the wall, not the port itself, but some fell short, blasting craters into the landscape. A handful of Fay's skirmishers were slain during the bombardment, caught within range of the shells' explosive landings, and eventually Fay angrily sent us back to camp.

Although I was attached to General Barreau's brigade I was still a member of General Martel's infiltrators, not really within the brigade command system. Following Fay through the camp I glanced over at the artillery pit. A half-dozen cannon were in a line, each angled so they could lob shells over the camp's picket line. We went straight to Barreau's tent, Fay bullying her way past the guards, and I stood in the background.

"Bitch! Whore!" Fay was rigid, her hands balled into fists. "You... fuck! You knew my girls would be out today."
Barreau slowly looked up from her desk and leant back in her chair, her calm the exact opposite of Fay's anger.
"Major Rossignol." Her gaze flicked to me, distaste on her face. "Corporal Bonhomme. Shall we start this conversation again?"
"No we fucking won't!" I jumped when Fay slammed a fist on the desk. "Some of my girls died out there. Why allow a bombardment?"
"We are at war Major. The Queen and the Marshals might call this a police action but make no mistake. This is war. And Montpellier is our objective. To get it we will have to make a breach in the walls."
"I wasn't recruited yesterday General. I just want to know why today?"
"Because we have to do it today. And tomorrow and the day after."

Fay swept from the tent, vowing to withhold her skirmishers, and I waited until her storm had abated.
"Communication between the elements would be useful ma'am."
Barreau glowered at me for a second.
"What would you or General Martel know about communication between elements?"
I took the criticism in stride but stayed where I was.
"I'll remind you that the Marshals allowed General Martel her experiment. My sisters and I have more than proved our worth."
"Just go back to Major Rossignol. Convince her to deploy the skirmishers or tell her she'll be in the first wave thrown at the breach."
I nodded and stiffly walked from the tent, turning towards the rear of the camp where Fay had quartered her skirmishers.

When I got to them the skirmishers were running around in near-panic. Columns of whitecoat troopers were marching on us, their numbers letting them ignore any casualties inflicted. Fay was anchoring her girls in the center and she briefly glanced at me.
"I hope Barreau is close behind." I looked blankly at her. "I sent a runner as soon as I knew."
I shook my head, unslinging my rifle and taking aim at a whitecoat officer. I relished having the weapon, Colonel Fontaine having recovered it from Captain Rousseau, and grinned as it kicked back into my shoulder when I pulled the trigger, the officer crumpling.
"Fay, none of these columns are stopping."
"No they're not." The veteran fired off a quick shot. "Means they'll either just overrun us or they'll send... yes. Here they come. Skirmishers! Prepare to meet cavalry!"

Lines of whitecoat hussars, wearing armour no doubt looted from actual cavalry-women, were charging between the columns. I was reminded of Captain Rousseau's hussars, an unconscious blush on my face as I thought of the aristocrats. I seriously doubted that any of the approaching hussars were nobility though, reloading and firing at one. A ragged volley from the skirmishers punched dozens from their horses and I turned slightly as I heard the sounds of frantic whistling and the scream of a shell passing overhead.
"I think your runner got through."
Fay nodded, slowly backing towards the tents the skirmishers had set up.
"All we have to do now is hold."