216 Days (Violent Delights Book 12)

Chapter 34: The siege according to the Bastard of Vaurus, April 2, 1422

The roar of cannons wakes me up. It always does. Henry fires day and night, as he has the whole siege long. But now it's closer.
I roll out of bed and to my feet, painfully. The weather is warming. No need for a fire really and that's good because we have no fire wood.
Or food.
With only combatants to house we have more rations. But those rations are a meal a day. I skip every other day to make it go farther.
"He's up early," Denis says, as I walk into the main kitchens.
"I thought so," I say, rubbing my face. I need to shave.
"Will you eat something?" Denis sighs.
"Not today," I smile, pouring myself a cup of water, it's more water than wine these days, "Do you know what today is?"
"No," Denis sighs.
"One hundred and seventy eight," I smile, toasting him with my cup. "We're doing well, cousin."
"Cousin," he comes over to inspect the mark on my face that I got the night the Market fell. It's not infected, by some odd grace of god.
"I'm going to go relieve Louis," I say. We take shifts, the three of us, manning the men, "You do the next one."
"You want to go see his island, don't you?"
"He put a cannon on an island, in the Marne, for the sheer production value of firing on us, from all sides. Also I want to watch them build the siege machine I think they are still missing parts," I say, finishing the cup of water.
"Go on," Denis says, rubbing his face, "Not like any of us are going back to sleep with that racket."
One hundred and seventy eight days. Four thousand two hundred and seventy two hours. We have beaten them back time and again. But now it's truly only a matter of time. Before the walls crumble. And fall. And we are overtaken. He batters us day and night with the artillery. The attempts to breach the walls? Daily.
"Sorry, it's not a food day," I say, petting my dog, as we mount the stairs. I split my rations with it. I don't know why anymore. Yes, I do. I am afraid of losing my last piece of humanity. This animal and Denis might be the only things I'm left caring about. The only things that keep me from being fully twisted by Henry's games.
I climb up to the ramparts. I'm sore and weary even though I just woke up. The starvation is getting the better of all of us. Louis and Denis and I are the only commanders. Guy was captured the night the Market fell. We assume he's dead by now.
"Sent back your reply to Henry," Louis grunts, as I climb up on the ramparts.
"Oh lovely, we get anything back?" I ask.
"No, not yet," he says. Henry has made several equally ostentatious demands we surrender or the hostages will be killed and so on and so forth. I send back eloquent replies. Well, the first two Denis and Louis wrote, but then they decided to let me have my fun. "What'd you tell him?"
"Something that'll irritate him on a deep and personal academic level," I say, looking out. It's a beautiful spring day. I didn't think I'd get to see another spring. All the flowers are in bloom. I would take the dog and go walk in the fields, visit the farms. There'd be a market soon.
"Hm, good for him," Louis grunts. He lost an eye the night the Market fell. It's healing all right, also free of infection. We've joked that there's no sustenance in us to feed infection.
"You ready to eat that dog yet?"
"I will cut you first."
We both smile.
"How much longer do you think this is going to last?" He asks me.
"A few weeks perhaps? I can last until the rapture," I say.
"I didn't think you were religious."
"I'm not. It's an expression," I say.
"So what do you think happens when you die then?" He asks.
"Something hopefully a bit better than this. But likely no. The way I see it. This is hell. War is hell. Watching my city burn around me. Having to fight that devil. That's hell. Something else has to be on the other side. Or better yet. Perhaps nothing," I say, drumming my fingers on the rock, "I wouldn't mind nothing. I could use the rest."
"I'm sure you could," he says, squeezing my shoulder. I don't lean away this time.
"Why? How long do you think we have?"
"Tonight. That's how I mark it. One day at a time. It's all we can do," he says, shrugging a little.
"Fair enough," I smile.
"What do you expect he's doing down there?"
"Henry? Having a wonderful time. He has everything he ever wanted."