Stone That the Builder Refused - Madison Smartt Bell [175]
“Northeast of Morne Basile, through Savane Carrée.” That much was true.
“Ah,” Rochambeau squinted down at the map, then looked up again. “Do you know the pass at Ravine à Couleuvre?”
Tocquet reached into his short jacket for a bundle of oilcloth that held three cheroots. Under Rochambeau’s disapproving stare he bit off the end of one and lit it, then leaned back to exhale a great blue feather of smoke.
“Ravine à Couleuvre?” Rochambeau’s fingers rattled the map against the table.
“Yes,” said Tocquet. “Ravine à Couleuvre offers another pass from the plateau to the coastal plain, though the distance is greater if you mean to go either to Ennery or Gonaives.”
He leaned forward abruptly, cupping the cheroot—the map was a good one, accurately detailed, and penciled with the route he’d just described. Noël Lory must have informed him. Tocquet took in some other pencilings, which marked the advance of Desfourneaux from Plaisance and Hardy from Dondon. The three columns were almost in position to pull the drawstring tight around Ennery and Gonaives. If Rochambeau passed through Ravine à Couleuvre, he would cut off retreat to the south or the east. Then Toussaint, if he could not fight his way through, would be squeezed out onto the open coastal plain.
“Well, it is plain enough,” Tocquet said, thinking that Noël Lory must have already given up this much. “If you descend Ravine à Couleuvre from Morne Barade, you will come out here”—he rapped his thumb on the map—“on the main road, in the middle of the Savane Désolée.”
“And how far then to Gonaives?”
Tocquet affected to consider. “No more than ten miles.”
“Very well.” Rochambeau stole a glance at Lory. “I am told that the rebel Toussaint has a great depot of arms and ammunition at Ravine à Couleuvre.”
Tocquet shrugged and drew on his cheroot. “That I can’t say. The Governor-General does not confide to me his dispositions.”
Though Rochambeau’s expression turned quizzical as Tocquet pronounced Toussaint’s official title, he made no comment on it. “Very well. But I cannot encourage you to continue your journey to the north. You would do better to remain with us. Perhaps you may render us some service as a guide.”
“Oh,” said Tocquet. “I think you will be very well guided by Monsieur Lory.” He shot Noël Lory a quick, hard look to see if the man would flinch. Certainly he’d betrayed Toussaint—if he’d betrayed Tocquet’s interest was a cloudier matter. All Tocquet knew for certain was that he had no interest at all in arriving at Ravine à Couleuvre as a member of this French division. He knew full well, as Lory must, that Toussaint not only had a huge arms cache there but that his men were entrenched to the eyeballs all along the gorge.
“You’ll stable my horses for me, then?” Tocquet got up. “I’ll just get my pistols first.”
“No need for that!” Rochambeau laughed. “You are with the French army now—we shall guarantee your safety. And Captain Guizot will look to your comfort for the night.”
“As you prefer.” Tocquet reached through the arcade to flick ash from his cheroot into the rain—with his free hand he flashed three fingers at Bazau, then made a spiraling gesture toward the great beyond. “Take care of the horses,” he said. Bazau smiled tightly, nodded as he lowered his red-kerchiefed head and turned away.
Some of the junior officers had managed to billet themselves in the houses of Saint Michel, but Guizot had missed this opportunity while out reconnoitering the ways west across the plateau. But a reasonably sound tent was erected for his use, and Sergeant Aloyse managed to requisition some planks for the floor, so they would not have to spread their bedrolls in the wet. Aloyse had also secured a couple of small kegs of rum from the Saint Raphael distillery—private stock, as he cheerfully put it. He seemed content to set himself up as Guizot’s personal quartermaster, so long as he could share in what he furnished. So there was rum to offer Xavier Tocquet, who shared their shelter for the night.
After they’d consumed their evening ration of dried beef and cornmeal mush, they