July 20th, 1799

The commander had already stepped into Courrer before. But he couldn't remember the city as well as the remembered the others he'd already been to. The last time he'd visited it, he'd been far too stressed to take a careful look around.

Now that he was back however, he could. And the city itself wasn't all that interesting, to be honest. It was similar in size and shape to the other ones he'd visited and fought in before. It had small buildings, narrow streets, fierce and religious habitants, many local businesses and workshops, few government officials and headquarters. That said, even if it wasn't as huge and densely populated as the country's capital, Lievre, it also wasn't as tiny as places like Mosella.

Which is precisely why Francis didn't understand Obermann's instructions to burn it to the ground, and smash whatever was left of it to dust, so that absolutely nothing remained.

It made no sense.

They could just seize the city, imprison the royalists, and call it a day, but no... Unjustified murder was the order of the day.

And that infuriated him.

The citizens of Courrer were mostly comprised of artisans, farmers, weavers, lumberjacks and shepherds. Their muskets were far too old. Their pitchforks, swords, long knives and scythes, unpractical. They did not own cannons either. The eastern side of the city ended near a river, and they did not have enough boats to cross it.

They were cornered, and destined to death. Why not give them the opportunity to surrender? Why not try and establish a conversation with the royalists, like they did at Marsan?

If the republican army killed their enemy's generals, the men underneath them would surely give up on the fight. Why not limit the executions, then?

—I'm only following the orders of the Directory —Obermann said to Francis, as they stared at the city from afar, and got ready for their initial assault—. Look... I already explained this to Laupin a few hours ago, but the situation is as follows: The National Convention passed a new set of laws this last month, regarding the crimes of "treason to the homeland" and "conspiracy", which dictate that every royalist and conspirator is an unforgivable enemy of the republic and, therefore, a danger to public safety... Which is where the Directory comes in. As you know, they are responsible for our nation's public safety. And it's six members had no choice but to give us, the armed forces, the orders to kill all and every royalist based on those set of laws passed by the Convention. The Gwalarn Campaign is unfortunate, but... if we don't follow their rules...

—We'll be the ones killed.

—Exactly —Obermann nodded—. We'll be considered traitors.

—Do you know the names of the representatives that voted yes on those laws?

—Of course I do. I have them written down. Because I know that soon enough we'll be accused of being unjust murderers and tyrannical leaders by the very same Directory that is ruling over us. We are following their orders, but you know... The tables can be turned at any given time. And if someone somedays asks us: "why did you kill so many royalists?" I'll have a list of names to point out as the reason. I'll be able to point my finger right at the National Convention, without hesitation.

—So you're against this campaign? —Francis asked, crossing his arms.

—If I were in charge, we wouldn't be here. We'd be home, with our families, and these farmers would be left alone —the major general replied, then sighed—. But alas... I'm not. And we have work to do.

That short conversation made the commander understand his superior officer's decisions better. Before it happened, he just couldn't comprehend why Obermann was so determined to squash all of these villages, towns and cities down. Now, Francis knew why. The National Convention was pressing down on the Directory, and the Directory was pressing down on him, to be ruthless. Otherwise, he'd be pushed into the long line of candidates to die in the capital's guillotine. And even though Obermann was one tough and fearless man, he could not stand the thought of such a humiliating and frightening death.

No one could.

And so, he complied.

---

—Are you ready to go? —Charlie asked, as Francis readied his horse and climbed on top of the saddle.

—Yeah. Are you going to Courrer on foot?

—I need to —the blond commander replied—. I'll be in charge of the heavy artillery today.

—Right.

—And you?

—Of the chasseurs —Francis mentioned a group of the light infantry, used for rapid action—.  Obermann gave me orders to advance first, and lead the initial attack on the royalists.

—Good luck with that, brother —Charlie shook his hand—. Have ya' seen general Laupin around?

—Oh no, he's not here.

—What? What do you mean he's not here?

—He received orders from Obermann to stay back in Canclaux, for the time being. After we're done here, him and the rest of our troops will move to Rousille and burn that town down as well. And then we'll all regroup in Roman.

—But you're his commander... If he's in Canclaux, who's in charge of you now?

—General Santerre. I've been appointed his temporary commander, since both of his old ones died last week. But it's just for now. Obermann told me he's planning to assign Pierre as one of his new commanders soon.

—Pierre? As in, our Pierre?

—Yes, Pierre Weller.

—Well, can't say the kid doesn't deserve it. He's a good soldier. A little bit stupid and ingenuous, but a good soldier nonetheless.

—Agreed. But yes... once he's appointed as Santerre's new commander, I'll return to Laupin's side.

—I've heard my name... —the general itself appeared out of nowhere, also sat down on top of his white horse and ready for the battle.

Louis Santerre was the only black general that worked for the republican army. And because of this, most of his men were immigrants and freed slaves such as himself. But despite being constantly mistreated and underpaid by the Directory, his troops were considered one of the best in the entire armed forces. They fought with a passion, determination, anger and strength that the other brigades could never feel, nor know. And their resourcefulness in times of scarcity was something that Francis deeply admired.

Santerre himself was a man of small stature and large shoulders. His eyes were small, mouth was hidden by a thick mustache, and head crowned by a helmet of curly, black as coal hair. His skin was so dark he had been nicknamed "Ebony" by the white men of the army. But Santerre, despite knowing that their intentions were malicious, adopted the term as his own, and even got himself a knife with a handle made of the mentioned wood, which he carried around everywhere he went.

As a person, he seemed to be a decent man. Serious and stern, but not cruel and insane, like other generals usually were. This is why him and Laupin got along so well, in fact. Both were honorable soldiers, caught up in a bad situation. They did not like killing for the sake of killing. They did it because they had no other choice but to.

—I was explaining to my friend why general Laupin isn't here, monsieur —Francis said, as the man nodded.

—Long story short, he'll attack Rousille.

—That was what commander Forestier was telling me —the trumpeters began to play their instruments right as Charlie finished talking.

—And it seems we're about to attack Courrer.

—I'll get going, then. Good luck, gentlemen.

—Good luck to you as well, commander Lectoure —Santerre said, then gave him a small nod.

—Take care, Charlie.

—You too, Francis.

The commanders shook hands, before Charles ran away towards his regiment. General Santerre then moved his horse forwards, and stood between the city and his troops. Francis followed him suit.

As Obermann shouted his orders from the center of the front lines, the general repeated them out loud to his men:

—Commander Forestier will lead the first offensive along with squadron leader Garbo! Chasseurs à cheval and Chasseurs à pied , advance!

Francis, as explained, led the light infantry regiment towards the city, and once again adopted the column formation used in Anjou to attack it. This time around, however, a slot of empty space was left between the columns of soldiers. But this was no accident; the narrow corridors were used by the cavalry riders to quickly charge into the heart of the city and take their enemies by surprise, stunning them into submission.

This initial attack worked very well and soon, Charlie and his own regiment initiated the second strike against the royalists.

The battle didn't last very long. The desperate citizens, recognizing their defeat, tried to escape from the burning hellfire that engulfed their businesses and homes through the river, but most ended up drowning and being carried away by the currents. The few poor souls that managed to reach the other shore were met by Jacques' men and their impetuous fusillade.

Obermann knew that the locals would try to flee, and he also knew he couldn't let them go. So, he ordered the blacksmith to hide alongside a regiment of 1000 soldiers on the eastern side of the river, and stop all of their attempts to escape.

Those who survived the shooting, were instantly captured and later killed anyway.

This was another victory for the republic, and one more blow to their faith in humanity.