Stone That the Builder Refused - Madison Smartt Bell [147]
“So,” said Leclerc, with a glance toward the curtain. “He asks me for an armistice. Though my orders forbid me to cease any action of war once it has begun, I will allot him four days and no more. Within that time he may yet become my second in command, but if he has not submitted to that role by the fourth day, I will declare him outlaw.” Gritting his teeth on these last words, Leclerc shot Cyprien a quelling look (though Cyprien was more than a head the taller), then sent the captain to fetch a secretary to copy out the gist of what he’d said.
Now Placide rocked half-dreaming in the saddle—they’d had no more than three hours’ sleep before being sent back, with Leclerc’s new dispatch, to Ennery. They’d been too exhausted, if not too discouraged, to whisper to each other from their pallets—besides, their guardians were near. Coisnon and Granville had remained at Le Cap, but Cyprien and Daspir were with them still, and always riding close enough to intercept any private contact. Nonetheless Placide knew that his brother was miserable and apprehensive. He himself was a little frightened, a little excited too.
And yet he dozed. He’d learned to ride at his father’s hands, and now he’d ride his father’s hours. He knew Toussaint’s habit of laying a pillow across the saddle of Bel Argent if he meant to remain there for many days. Placide had no pillow, but his knees held him firmly in his seat and his back held straight, though his head rolled from side to side on the short tether of his neck, as he dozed and woke by fits and starts. The day passed flickering through the mountain passes: Haut Limbé, Plaisance, Pilboreau. At the crossroads the people lined the road to watch their passage, but there were no shouts or celebration this time, though the smiles were all as warm as before.
Toussaint was absent when they reached Ennery, but the impatience of Captain Cyprien was nothing to Suzanne. She fed her sons and put them to bed. Placide smiled inwardly at this—he hadn’t known such treatment since he was a small boy, down with a summer fever. But fatigue swelled over him as soon as he stretched out, and he did sleep, and Isaac also, without a private word having passed between them.
In some small hour of the morning, Cyprien and Daspir roused them. Quietly, groggily, they remounted and rode out the drive from Sancey. Placide wondered if the French captains meant to elude Suzanne with this departure, but when he looked back over his shoulder he saw his mother standing on the steps, straight and still as a green sapling, holding a white candle in her hands.
The moon, just one day off the full, shone fitfully through hurrying clouds as they rode into Gonaives. At headquarters they learned from the sentries that Toussaint had gone to mass. Cyprien and Daspir rushed the boys to the church. The ceremony was entering its final phase: the priest chanting, elevating the Host. Though this service was wholly open to the public, most citizens of Gonaives preferred to observe at a more comfortable hour, so Toussaint was alone except for Morisset, a couple more officers of his suite, and a few old women shawled in black.
Captain Cyprien looked ready to interrupt, but Daspir drew him off with some murmured caution. Toussaint was kneeling at the altar rail. The Host was lowered to his tongue; meekly he pressed his lips to the chalice rim. While Placide hung back, Isaac crossed himself hastily and moved to kneel at his father’s side, but Toussaint stopped him as he rose.
“If you have not made a good confession this day, Isaac,” Toussaint said, and masked his smile with his right hand, “it is better that you wait to take the sacraments.”
Both boys sat beside the father on the front bench as the service concluded. They left the church with him, following the cross. Cyprien and Daspir flanked them as they walked toward headquarters, but Toussaint stopped them in the building’s anteroom.
“Leave us, please.”
Cyprien looked as if he would argue; he was beginning to say something about duty and his commission, but Daspir edged