Josephine

𝓔𝓹𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓮 34: 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻

January 5, 1973, 12:15

West of Saint-Zotique, Quebec Authority

Explosions rocked the other side of the Saint Lawrence River. But this was not our doing, our enemies had kept spies within our ranks and discovered our false plans to cross the river and assault Montreal. Bridges erupted in spectacular fireballs as remnants of them splashed into the cold, half-frozen river. My men had captured the spies as they attempted to flee, and now I had to deal with them. They were on their knees in front of me, arms bound. 

"What to do with you rapscallions?" I muttered under my breath. 

"I don't know your majesty, might I say you are much more beautiful in person," One of the spies snarled and I snapped back to him. 

"Excuse me? What did you say you little swine?" 

"You heard me," 

Then he spat at me, and luckily I managed to avoid him. 

"Hmm... should I have you executed right now," 

I unholstered my pistol and pulled back the hammer. 

"Oh majesty," The other spy chuckled, "You are not metal enough to kill us yourself, not someone like you who has been pampered and fed with a gold spoon her whole life," 

"Actually, for your information, I have been neglected and have fought for everything I have achieved, and you clearly do not think before you speak. I have killed a man on the field of battle, and I did it without hesitation... I shall do the same with swines such as yourselves," 

I pointed my gun at the spies.

Pop! Pop!

A couple of soldiers took their corpses and dumped them into the icy river. 

"Your majesty, what do we do now that the bridges are out of commission?" A young soldier standing next to me asked.

That was the question I was asking myself. I lowered my binoculars from my face and tried to think of a solution. I had not expected them to blast the bridges to hell, pretty much stagnating us. And if the other armies attacked without our bridgehead, it was likely they'd be mauled like lambs in a slaughterhouse. Just like every attempt beforehand.

"Shoot, how do we cross this river- wait a minute! I've got it!" I muttered to myself.

"What is it, your majesty?"

"How many boats do we have off hand? Rowboats I mean?" I asked him.

He rushed off to transfer the message to the head of logistics, whoever that was. A few moments later he was back.

"About 70 your majesty," The soldier said.

"How many soldiers can those seventy boats hold?" I asked, not taking my gaze off the river.

I could sense him murmuring calculations under his breath.

"About fourteen-hundred your majesty,"

"Fourteen hundred? That should be enough, we need that number of men to get to those boats, we will cross the river in those boats like George Washington in 1776,"

"Of course your majesty," The soldier said, he saluted then rushed off, verbally transporting my order.

I glared out across the river, to the undefended village of Saint Zotique. I've placed my hand, and now we see what our enemies response is.

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The men silently and orderly climbed into their respective rowboats. It was thirty past midnight and the brutal cold and snow had begun to pick up. Despite how cold it was, it would blind the enemy of our movements and keep our assault incognito. I sat atop Valentine, my gorgeous white stallion, overlooking the semi-chaotic operation. When only one boat remained, I disembarked from my horse and a soldier who was staying for now took her to the stable until a ferry could bring her across the river. I checked my right thigh for my pistol, which was safely holstered on my belt. I knew I'd be using it.