Grey caught his breath. “That would be very helpful, if they can be trusted.”
“Durand is not well liked,” Jeanne said. “There was outrage when his men arrested Père Laurent and my family.”
“There are also many royalists in this area,” Pierre added. “We do not discuss such things. And we do not turn each other in to police informers.” He held up his stump. “I lost this fighting for France and my family, not Napoleon nor a fat, stupid Bourbon king. Any man I recommend can be trusted. There is a man who works on this farm whom I would trust with my life.”
Grey’s smile was wry. “I hope I can trust him with mine.” And Cassie’s.
Jeanne had slipped out, and now she returned with a squat little jug and four small ceramic sipping cups. She set the jug in front of Cassie. “My mother is known for her apple brandy. We sell it in the town market. Will it make a good grenade? There are a couple of dozen more jugs in the pantry.”
Cassie hefted the jug to feel the weight and took out the cork to check the thickness of the walls. “These should work. We need to make and test some sample grenades to be sure.”
“Then we should empty the jug.” Jeanne poured a little into each of the small cups and passed them around the table. She raised hers. “Liberty for my family!”
Grey was happy to drink to that. The apple brandy was just as fragrant and fruity as when he’d first sampled it in the icy farm pond.
And it had just as much of a kick.
When Grey and Pierre left the house to bed down the horses and find a good place to test a grenade, Cassie sat down at the table with Jeanne to make their test weapons. She’d brought several pounds of gunpowder and yards of fuse with her. Jeanne watched warily as Cassie made a paper funnel to pour the powder into the first jug.
“That isn’t going to explode and blow up my kitchen, is it?”
“No, gunpowder is very stable. The grenade won’t explode without the lighted fuse.” After Cassie poured in the powder, she cut a length of fuse and slid it through the mouth of the jug, then corked the bottle very tightly. It looked quite innocent when she was done. A small brandy jug with a cord running out of it. “I’ll make a couple more with different fuse lengths and amounts of gunpowder.”
As she started on the second, Jeanne asked, “How soon will you raid the castle?”
“As soon as possible.” Cassie delicately funneled the gunpowder into a jug. “Preferably within the next two or three nights. The moon is waxing, and each night will be brighter.” Frowning, she cut a length of fuse. “Plus, my instincts are saying that the sooner this is done, the better. For all your family’s sake, but especially Père Laurent’s.”
Jeanne nodded gravely. “He had become stronger while here at the farm, but he is frail. Imagine the horror of being back in the cell where he spent so many years!”
“I’m trying not to think of it.” Cassie bit her lip as she made a third test grenade. This would be a chancy operation, with far too many variables. She hoped Père Laurent was on good terms with the divine, because they were going to need all the help they could get.
That night they all tromped into the forest to test grenades. Even Jeanne came, not wanting to miss the action. Grey and Pierre had found a test site on a wilderness slope opposite the village and the castle. Even though they were miles away, sound traveled, and they didn’t want anyone to be alerted to the use of explosives.
A light rain was falling, which meant the explosions would sound like thunder. As Cassie picked her way through the woods with a shielded lantern, she gave thanks for such ideal test conditions.
After half an hour of hiking, they reached the site. A pair of rocky outcroppings had a pocket of soil between them where several trees about the height of the castle walls grew. Not only could they practice their throwing, but they could see how much damage the grenades did to the rocks on the other side while taking shelter behind the outcropping on their side.
Cassie eyed the trees. “Shall we start by tossing stones about the same weight to test our throwing abilities?”
Grey nodded. “Earlier Pierre and I collected some that seem about the right weight. They’re piled over there.”
He set his lantern on the ledge of rock behind him and hefted a stone. After tossing it up and down a couple of times, he hurled it over the trees. The stone cleared with space to spare and clattered against rock on the other side.
“Not bad,” Pierre said as he chose a stone. After testing the weight, he threw. It cleared the trees by a huge margin. He hadn’t been lying about his good throwing arm.
Cassie was next. Her stone didn’t clear the trees by much, but it was an adequate throw. Next came Jeanne. Determination on her face, she wound up, threw—and the rock crashed into the tree’s budding branches.
“I think it’s good you’ll be dining with the magistrate,” Grey said with a grin. “Are we ready for live ammunition?”
Cassie produced three grenades that she’d packed in a canvas carrier bag with towels for padding. “I’ve put different-length fuses in these. I think they will explode in about five, three, and two minutes, but I’m guessing and want to test my guesses.”
She lifted the one with the shortest fuse. “This is another test—less gunpowder. A smaller charge will be useful for blowing in the postern without attracting as much notice as the explosions in front. We’ll also need one if we must blast our way into the cells. I don’t want to kill the people we’re trying to save. Pierre, since you have the best arm, you can throw this one with the shortest fuse after we’ve tested the other two.”
Pierre nodded, pleased. Grey started by lighting the longest fuse with the lantern flame, then tossing the grenade. They joined Jeanne behind the rocky outcropping and covered their ears while Cassie counted down the time mentally.
KABOOOM!!!!!!!! The ground shook and air and sound battered them even behind their barrier.
After the rattle of falling debris ended, Grey said, “Let’s look at the damage.”
They found that the grenade had left a small crater, tossing earth and stones away and cracking the stony outcropping. Grey put a warm hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “Is this what you expected?”
“Yes, though the fuse burned faster than I expected. I’ll have to cut longer fuses.” Cassie threw the next grenade, which had about the same amount of explosive power. Pierre’s low-gunpowder version seemed to have the right power for use on the windows. As they studied the smaller crater it made, Grey said, “We have our arsenal.”
Voice throbbing with excitement, Jeanne said, “Your plan seems more real now. Perhaps my family will be free in a few days!”
Cassie didn’t bother to say that grenades were the easy part.
Chapter 45
Two days later, all the arrangements had been made and the raid was set for that night. Pierre and Jeanne had already left in a cart to meet the magistrate, and Grey and Cassie were in their small bedroom preparing the equipment they might need. Ropes; a short, heavy crowbar; weapons. Grey frowned, wishing they were better armed.
He would carry the heavier equipment and most of the grenades in a pack they’d devised to sling over his back, leaving his hands free. He double- and triple-checked the contents, his nerves taut even though he and Cassie had had endless discussions about the possibilities and refining their list of materials. “Is this kind of tension like going into battle?” he asked. “How long does it take to become used to it?”
Cassie hadn’t yet changed into her black male clothing, but even with drab hair and a plain brown gown, she was lovely. Calm, sure of herself. He missed the red hair.
“We are going into battle, so tension is normal,” she replied. “Though you’re twitchy now, as soon as the first grenade explodes, your nerves will steady and you’ll be fine and dangerous. We’ve planned as much as we can. Now it’s in God’s hands.”
“I hope God wants to save one of His better priests, and us along with him.” Grey surveyed his pack. “I wish we had firearms.”
“We discussed that,” she said patiently. “We couldn’t have carried a rifle through France without being noticed, and one rifle wouldn’t have been much use against a squad of soldiers. Pistols aren’t very accurate, especially at night when we’re moving as fast as we can. I have a knife, and I know how to use it.”
“Firing a weapon can make the enemy take cover and buy time even if one has only one shot,” he pointed out.
“True.” She patted her smaller bag, which held the rest of the grenades. “But we do have explosives, if not firearms.”
He looked out the window at the darkening sky. “Is it time to go yet?”
She laughed. “Not yet. You’re as impatient as a child who has been promised an ice at Gunter’s.”
“I’ve never done anything like this.” He perched on the small bed opposite Cassie’s. Jeanne and Pierre had made it clear that they didn’t mind what sleeping arrangements their guests made, so he and Cassie were sharing the room that had belonged to the two Boyer daughters. They’d used only one of the narrow beds, which was crowded, but they’d wanted to be as close as possible. A single bed was sufficient for making love.
“One’s first experience of war is difficult,” she observed. “But everyone has a first time. At least you’re no green seventeen-year-old soldier who has never faced the enemy before.”
“I’m not so much afraid of being a coward,” he said slowly as he puzzled out his concerns. “But the stakes are so high! I’m afraid I’ll fail and it will hurt others.”
“Life and death are the highest stakes there are,” she said calmly. “But we all die eventually. I hope it’s not tonight, but would either of us choose not to be here?”
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