Chateau Laux by David Loux

Author:David Loux
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wire Gate Press

JEAN SAW THE MAJOR GO down and charged into the river, splashing through the water in a desperate attempt to reach him. A body floated face down in the river with two arrows sticking from it, and Jean surged past, splashing up through the rocks and mud. Although he had seen the major fall, he had a hard time finding him. The sunflowers were nearly as tall as Jean’s head, and the burnt gunpowder made a dense cloud. He kicked around, looking for the major, when a man with a tomahawk charged him. Jean raised his musket and tried to fire, but nothing happened. He pulled on the trigger as hard as he could, but the gun wouldn’t shoot, when suddenly a loud discharge came from close at hand. The man with the tomahawk went down and Jean saw the major, lying in the mud at the base of the sunflower stalks, a smoking pistol in his hand. Grateful to the major for saving him, but concerned that his own gun hadn’t fired, Jean looked down and saw that he had failed to cock it.

“Major!” he shouted, standing over the fallen man.

But now another man rose from the sunflowers. Jean got his musket up first, making sure that it was cocked this time. Smoke belched from the muzzle of the gun, and the man disappeared, the sunflowers jerking and twitching where he had stood a moment before. Shots were fired from every quarter. Jean whirled around and raced to the major’s side.

“We gotta get out of here,” he shouted, grabbing hold of the fallen man’s collar and starting to pull.

“Reload!” the major gasped.

“We gotta get back to the trees,” Jean said, yanking on the collar.

“Load your damned gun!”

Jean stopped and reloaded as hurriedly as he could, then grabbed the major’s collar again and yanked him upwards, throwing an arm around his waist. The major screamed as his mutilated leg was dragged through the sunflowers, but they reached the grass, where Jean paused and then threw his musket aside. He might have been a boy by some men’s reckoning, but he was nearly as big as his father, and he bent down, threaded an arm between the major’s legs and hefted him up onto his shoulders. Striding heavily, he stomped through the grass until he reached the sumacs, where he placed the major on the ground, then dashed back to retrieve his gun.

Muskets continued to discharge, though not as often now, and the men that were left began to stagger out of the sunflowers, emerging like specters from the fog of burnt gunpowder, crouching and lurching toward where the major lay. “We need to find cover—up there!” Jean shouted, gesturing toward one of the rocky shelves above. The men looked at him dully, as if unable to comprehend his words. Their faces were blackened with smoke and mud, smears of blood.

“The major’s been shot!” Abe said, stating the obvious with dull horror. The man called Jackson sat down on the ground and started to shake.

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