The next few moments were a blur for Daniel; Henri ordering the coach driver to stop, the two horses slowing down beside an old, battered inn without a sign, which Daniel noticed but didn’t appear too strange to him in his current state. Someone whose face Daniel couldn’t quite see greeted Henri, shaking his hand and ushering them inside. He lead them into a dimly lit room, the fire hardly burning where a few tables were cleaned off from the night before. There was a French soldier soldier snoring in the corner, an old, worn-out blanket around his shoulders, apparently recovering from a night filled with lots of alcohol. They went past the wiped down bar topped with a few overturned mugs, and headed to a set of stairs that brought them to the second floor, where all the rooms were. The short person Daniel assumed was the innkeeper opened one of the doors for them and they stumbled inside, weary from their harrowing escape out of the barracks. Daniel hardly made it to one of the three beds before he collapsed, instantly transported back into the land of dreams. Renne and Raymond grabbed a bed each, leaving Henri and Edmond to make do with a few blankets they found in a closet and the floor. Once they’d settled in relatively comfortably the inn keeper wished them a good night’s sleep and then disappeared out into the hallway, presumably to get some of his own rest. Within a few minutes the room fell still, the silence occasionally disrupted by a rogue snore or someone turning in their sleep. Exhausted, the deserters had finally found refuge and embraced it with relief.

The sunlight filtered through the window, bringing with it a warm breeze and illuminating the room. Daniel lay draped across his bed, his covers twisted around him. The two other beds were empty, the covers left unmade, but the Henri and Edmond’s had been neatly tucked away in the closet on the right hand side of the door. Daniel slowly stirred, yawning and stretching his arms high above his head as he surveyed the room. He noticed that a fresh set of clothes was waiting at the foot of his bed, so he stood up and quickly got changed. He didn’t know what to do with his dirty uniform from night before clothes, so he just left it on the bed, thinking that he’d figure out where to put them later. His stomach growled, reminding him that he needed food. Following his stomach’s orders, Daniel descended down the stairs, searching for the other four members from his group. The innkeeper was at the bar, talking to a worn-out old man, clothes tattered and nearly rags, who was begging for food.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you can’t pay for the meal I can’t give it to you,” the innkeeper replied politely.

“Just a bit of bread, please. I have a family, and they’re
starving. Please!” The man was on the point of desperation now, clutching at the innkeeper’s clothes.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I understand that you need food, but the famines have been hard on a lot of us. Now please, get out of my inn.” Daniel could tell that the innkeeper was trying to control himself and handle the situation calmly. It worked. Defeated, the man shuffled out of the inn, with one, last, desperate glance back at the innkeeper, who merely shook his head. Once them man had left Daniel continued past the bar, and saw that the innkeeper was on the verge of tears.

He heard him mumble “It isn’t right. It just isn’t right. The nobles are in their fancy palaces, surrounded by all the wealth they could ever want, while we’re here, starving to death like animals.”

Finally spotting his friends in the corner of the inn, Daniel moved past the innkeeper and a group of three men sitting at a table, chatting and laughing loudly. The only other person in the central room of the inn was the soldier from the night before who sat by the fireplace opposite the bar. Daniel instantly dropped his eyes down and quickly hurried over to the others. Edmond looked up and smiled when he saw that Daniel was approaching their table, exclaiming “Hey, Danny! Nice of you to finally join us.”
Daniel ignored him and hissed “Are you guys insane! There’s a soldier right there! What if he sends us back?! They’ll kill us!”

This time it was Henri who spoke up; “Don’t worry Daniel, that guy can hardly see straight. I don’t know if he’s even awake. However, he has been very useful. Eat some breakfast, and then we need to tell you something back in our room.”
Daniel complied, and after filling himself to his stomach’s content they all went back upstairs.

“So, what was it you wanted to say?” Daniel asked. Henri lowered his voice and started filling Daniel in on the detail. The soldier, not quite in the best of mind, had started talking to the innkeeper, who was able to get some valuable information from him. At the point Daniel stopped, Henri, demanding to know who the innkeeper, why he was helping them, and where they were. Henri simply replied that he was a friend who wanted to help them, and that they were at his inn. Frustrated, Daniel ordered Henri to continue. Henri obliged, although he didn’t like Daniel trying to order him around. The soldier had told the innkeeper that the previous night The Paris Arsenal had been surrounded and looted by a mob. However, 250 barrels of gunpowder had already been moved to the Bastille from the Paris Arsenal. The innkeeper pushed a little harder here and found out that the Bastille was currently surrounded by another mob, and two cannons that were meant to be transported there had been re-routed. Henri then opened up a hastily drawn, map, showing exactly when and where the cannons were going to be that day.

“Henri, what are you thinking?” Daniel questioned cautiously.

Henri grinned. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to steal some cannons.”

The sun beat down on the five figures, its hot rays causing them to sweat heavily. Henri peeked around the corner of a house, watching the cobblestone street for any sign of movement. Drawing back, he motioned to Renne across the street that the cannons were on their way. Edmond waited behind him, biting his fingernails. Renne checked behind him to make sure Daniel was there, and they both pressed themselves against the stone wall of a house, Renne readying his musket. Henri saw that they were prepared and whispered to Daniel to climb the wooden ladder at the back of the house they were hiding behind. Daniel nodded quickly, swallowing. He walked as quietly as possible to the ladder and started to climb. The wood was old and rotten, and splinters found there way into Daniel’s hands. He speeded his pace up, being extra careful not to look down. After what seemed like a lifetime he crawled onto the roof, the wood creaking slightly. The roof was constructed of two diagonal slants, the highest part being in middle of the roof, parallel to the road. Raymond lay on the back side of the slant, peering over at the approaching cannons. They were on wheels, drawn by two bay horses and attached together by a beam of wood so they couldn’t be split up. Daniel swallowed again and then crawled over to Raymond to deliver Henri’s orders.

When Daniel finished relaying the orders Raymond nodded his head and steadied his rifle, aiming at the approaching horse-drawn cannons. Two guards were leading the horses, and another four surrounded the dented cannons, their rusted metal shining dully in the summer light. Raymond, waited for the soldiers to draw nearer.

“Closer, closer,” he whispered to himself. Once the cannons were about to pass by him he looked down his rifle, breathed, and fired. As flame leaped from the barrel of his gun one of the soldiers leading the horses slumped over, and chaos broke loose. Henri turned the corner and fired at the other guard next to a horse with a side arm, hitting him in the leg. The soldier went down screaming, his already bloodstained hands clutching at his wound. When the other four soldiers raced to Henri and Edmond’s position Renne came out of his hiding spot and shot another guard in the back, confusing the remaining three. Raymond had reloaded by now and picked off another soldier, causing the last two to turn around and face the roof he was hiding on. That’s when Renne and Henri took their chance. Instantly, they both stepped out of their respective side streets and into the wider main street, and simultaneously fired. Both soldiers dropped to the ground. A heavy quiet seemed to weigh down upon the five deserters as smoke drifted from their guns. Daniel stared in shock. He knew that was what fighting was like; he’d heard the stories. However, he’d never been in an actual fight and hadn’t expected it to be so bloody and violent. Raymond stood up, and lead Daniel, who was still in a daze, to the ladder. He climbed down slowly, the brutal scene replaying itself over and over in his mind. Henri, Edmond and Renne were already checking the horses and preparing to continue on to the Bastille. Raymond was walking over to his brother, about to congratulate him on a job well done, when it happened. The soldier that Henri had shot in the leg had managed to pull a small revolver out of his belt and in fired his gun in three quick bursts. Henri saw that the soldier had a weapon and quickly ran over, kicking the gun from his hand.

“Treason, treason!” The soldier coughed out. “You’re traitors to your country!”

Henri just gave him a pitying look, pointed his gun and pulled the trigger. The soldier ceased to move. Unfortunately, Henri was too late. Renne and Raymond looked at each other stunned, and then Renne sunk to his knees and Raymond stumbled backwards to fall to the ground. Renne collapsed face-first on the stones and Raymond crawled over to him. He called out Renne’s name as tears streamed down his face in miniature waterfalls and grabbed his hand. His sobs echoed down the street until he, too, gave in to the darkness and faded away. His blank eyes gazed up towards the sky as he lay sprawled next to his twin.

Daniel was on the verge of tears but he held them back, determined not to show weakness. Edmond, on the other hand, wept openly, while Henri just turned away in despair.

Daniel’s vision started to go hazy as the extraordinary loss and stress of the past day rolled over him in overwhelming waves, and he realized that the only way to deal with the loss was to not feel, not think, not speak. So face expressionless, he walked over to the horses and began to encourage them on towards the Bastille.
The next thing Daniel knew, he was on the sight of a great battlefield strewn with corpses, exhausted from the long trek. Screams and gunfire filled the air as incited revolutionaries clashed with determined guards, outnumbered but willing to fight for their king.
Daniel finally let the emotion out and turned to face Edmond.
“We did it,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “Edmond?” He asked suddenly. Edmond appeared hardly able to support himself and was clutching his side, waving back and forth as if he was dizzy. Suddenly, he toppled over, and Daniel came rushing to his side.
“Edmond!?” He nearly screamed.
“I think I’ve been... Danny, I think I’ve been shot.” He swallowed and looked up at Daniel with glistening eyes.
“When Renne and Raymond died... I didn’t realize...” He trailed off and his eyes rolled back as his body became limp. Daniel slowly got to his feet, an all consuming rage filling his body. He picked a two-handed battle-axe from the ground and headed towards the cannons.
“Daniel, what are you doing?” Henri questioned cautiously while backing away from Daniel.
“I’m going to destroy the reason for all of this! The reason for Renne, Raymond and Edmond dying! If we’d never gone after these stupid cannons, none of this would have happened!” He continued to rant about war being horrible anyways, not wanting to desert in the first place, and the troubles that had been building upon his mind, all the while moving closer to Henri and the cannons.
“Daniel, I’m warning you back off.”
“Do you even care about him? Do you even have any regret? You’re an emotionless murderer!”
“Stop it right now or else!” Henri frantically pulled his side arm out of his belt and pointed it straight at Daniel, now pressed tight against the cannons, Daniel standing just a few feet in front of him. He stared him directly in the eyes and saw the immense hatred seething there.
“No.” Daniel brought the axe above his head and prepared to swing. Henri closed his eyes, raised his gun, and “Bang!”

***

“Is that it?” the man asked the interrogator.

“Yes, that’s the story the kid told me, word for word. Are you sure this is right? I mean, look at him, he’s only a kid.”

“It’s what Henri said to do, and you heard his story; he’s a traitor. Without those cannons we never would have been able to force the men in the Bastille to surrender.”
“All right, all right. I guess how old he is doesn’t matter considering the crime.”
“Ok. Send him to the Bastille and lock him up.”