LES DÉSCENDANTS

Chapter 22: La Bataille Finale

A/N: This one's a dark one. But hang in there! Not yet edited.

"Whence should proceed that cry of love, if not from the heights of sacrifice?"

~Enjolras

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"CANNONS!" hailed a Guardsman.

"Where has he been?" snarled Soult, spinning to face the Guardsmen in charge of the cannons.

"WE'RE READY!" another hailed back.

I immediately hunkered down alongside Enjolras, who continued shouting orders, and I let his voice finally enter my consciousness.

"Combeferre, 11:00. Feuilly, perimeter scan. You there, citizen, 1:00. (That was directed to Valjean). Bahorel, 2:00. Stay back, Pontmercy! I'm focusing straight ahead. Bossuet, Joly, behind for reloading and medical assistance. Fine, Pontmercy, also for reloading. You there, citizen! Backup for Feuilly. And you, there, backup for Combeferre." His head snapped to spot me jogging back to his side. "Avenir, behind me for reloading. Watch the left arm." He tossed me an extra loaded rifle.

I scowled at that. "I can aim. I need to be up there."

He scowled right back. "Only if backup is needed. If you insist upon staying, I need you alive." Beneath the harsh words, I saw a flash of fear in his eyes, again afraid to lose me, and he spun back to face forward.

No, Enjolras. I need you alive.

From the other side of the barricade: "WAIT FOR IT! WAIT FOR IT!"

"FIRE!" Enjolras commanded, and our side fired the first round, aiming to injure, but not to kill, as trained. Several soldiers dropped from behind cannons, as I closed my eyes for a quick prayer. Immediately, Enjolras's rifle was thrust in my hands and my eyes flashed open to see him snatch the loaded one I had been holding. I immediately bolted for the tables of ammunition in front of the Corinthe, snatching way more grape shot than necessary for one reload, which would ultimately save time later on. I stooped to my knees, reloading just as Enjolras had taught me, as the others called out that more cannons were being rolled out.

"We're gonna pay a price for this..." spoke Bossuet, as I spied Marius staking out a spot right at the front of the barricade, aiming a loaded rifle. 

I opened my mouth to get Enjolras's attention, but busy aiming, he yelled, "Second cannon! FIRE!" 

Combeferre's precise aim with a pistol sent the soldier behind the cannon falling to his knees. Enjolras himself aimed for the furthest-back cannon and knocked down the officer standing there. 

Soult seemed to visibly foam at the mouth as he spat his next words: "TAKE AIM! FIRE!"

"Take cover, boy!" yelled Valjean at Marius, as the older man clipped one officer's shoulder with his shot. Pontmercy missed his shot, but clipped an officer's helmet, sending him crashing into the ground.

Enjolras, meanwhile, was snatching back his rifle and handing back the spare for me to load when Combeferre made a chilling report: "THERE'S MORE MEN! THERE'S MORE MEN, ENJOLRAS!" Seven more cannons at least were being rolled into place.

Enjolras's face morphed into one of complete terror, as he locked eyes with me. "Run. Leave. That is a direct ord-"

He was cut off by a loud "CANNONS READY!" and Soult's command: "AND...FIRE!"

Bullets rained down on the barricade, and Enjolras's expression was heartbreaking and terrifying at the same time as he braced himself, ducking while turning back to face the other side. A scream ran out as Bahorel was shot in the right shoulder. Despite our raid on the Bastille, enough ammunition had been preloaded into these cannons and enough soldiers with enough skill were here that we were in grave danger.