Getting there! And that’s not the title, either. It’s just shorter.
At least Carteaux wasted no time. For a painter, he had some talent in getting his men on the march — and keeping them under something like control, too. More or less. Most of the buildings the demi-brigade set fire to were empty barns and storehouses. “We were not idle while your force was giving Le Bete the glove,” Carteaux told him over a (looted) supper, the first evening. “This area has been gleaned quite carefully. For the sake of the Revolution, of course.”
Joseph mused that he had never heard the name ‘Paris’ pronounced quite in that way before, and he had thrived in an atmosphere where the Revolution and the capital were typically considered to be one. “You left enough for the people here to grow crops next year, I trust?” he asked, and realized with a start that it might actually be a concern. The last year had seen an unfortunate number of requisitions and outright confiscations. Which was reason enough to finally put down this rebellion, before it unsettled the rest of France further.
“I’m sure that they will manage,” Carteaux replied, in far too easy a manner. “If they do not? Well. Once Le Bete is caught and stuffed on Robespierre’s wall, it will not matter if a few monarchists here and there have paltry harvests for a time. They should be grateful they did not get kisses from La Veuve, instead.”
