December 05th, 1799

The Ruhmnians seemed to have suffered as many losses as the republican army did, since they hadn't tried to attack the capital again.

Well, at least not yet.

Francis hoped that this assumption was right and that their foes were on an equally bad spot as them, because out of their 80.000 men, there were only 53.000 left.

The Castigatio legion couldn't even be considered a "legion" anymore, since the number of losses were so high. So say that they were in a horrible situation wouldn't suffice. They were as ruined as the city buildings around them. As starved as the dead trees that filled their horizons. As cold and lonely as the snow that fell from the grey sky above.

But their God, ever so understanding, granted them one saving grace. One miracle, to solve most of their problems.

General Laupin was back.

—WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? —Francis exclaimed, once he saw his friend walk inside of his room, holding a black bicorn under his arm.

—I read your letter about this disaster of a campaign, and I resigned from the National Convention, which turned out to be a bigger disappointment of a government than our old monarchy was. Then I pulled a few strings with Laura's help, and I came here, to offer you my help.

—Strings?

—I bring along about 10.000 Karranites, 5.000 rogue Ruhmnian soldiers, and 4.000 Vannenites, plus a 1.000 of our own compatriots, which I have found wandering around this desolated land, lost and on the brink of death. Those numbers round up to a total of 20.000 soldiers. Which isn't a whole lot, but...

Francis skipped the formalities. After his initial shock was gone, he stood up from his chair, circled his desk and hugged Camille.

—You're a sight for sore eyes, my friend!

—I'm glad to be back —he patted the younger man's back—. And now as a major general of the international division.

—I was about to ask you that —Francis pulled back—. If you're in charge of 20.000 men, then...

—I was promoted by our dear director, Justine Neckel, before I even managed to put that whole team together. When I told him I wanted to return to action, the first thing he did was giving me a promotion. And once Neckel found out about mine and Laura's efforts to create a new division, comprised of foreigners, he gave me orders to travel south and meet you here. He knew you were in trouble.

—And thank heavens you did, because our last battle was terrible. We are...

—In shambles? Oh, yeah. Obermann already warned me about it, don't worry. I know the situation is dire. But I came with a plan.

—A plan?

—Yes. We will fake a retreat, and trick the Ruhmnians into believing that we have abandoned the capital. Then, once they walk inside these streets, we'll ambush them. And after their defeat, we'll send a message to Brigadier Malhaussen, the chief of the Ruhmnian army in this country, stating that either he leaves Harmania, or we'll continue to raise hell until this whole nation becomes nothing more than a pile of ash and coal.

—And how are you so sure that we will win?

—Because we have something that they don't.

—What?

—Rage —Laupin said, then put his bicorn back on his head—. I'm sorry for my short stay, but I have to speak with the other generals now. Please, share the news of my return with Jacques and Charlie while I'm gone. We need to prepare for our next battle carefully. I'll see you later, at dinner time... And, oh! I almost forgot! —he pulled a small envelop from the insides of his coat—. Laura asked me to give you this.

—Thanks, Camille.

—You're welcome —the major general smiled, patted his arm, then left the room.

Francis opened the letter in a hurry, and sat down again to read it. In the brief message his wife had written him, she assured that his documents were safely stored with her, and that thankfully, things in the capital seemed to have settled down. The political drama had now been mostly solved, and although the National Convention continued being as loud and contradictory as it always was, no new hangings or beheadings had happened. Only verbal disagreements and fights.

Laura also asked him to write her back as soon as he could, and wished him good luck on the battlefield.

Francis smiled after reading her soft words, folded her letter, and snuck it inside of his own coat. If he died anytime soon, he wanted to do so with a piece of her next to him.

Then, he picked up the pen and began to write his response, explaining to her what Laupin's new plans were, and how delicate their current situation was. He also confided how much he missed her, and wished to return home. He despised the wintry weather of Harmania, and missed Laura's warmth by his side.

Once the ink had dried, he folded the pages he'd written, put them inside an envelope and sealed it. Five minutes later he walked out of his room, and searched for his secretary, Séverin, all across the city hall. He finally found the man sitting by a window, looking outside. He seemed sad, and crestfallen. Not his usual self.

—Are you okay? —Francis asked, as he took a seat beside him.

—I wish I was out there, you know? Fighting —the man sighed, then looked at his crutches and wooden legs—. But instead, I'm stuck in here... Watching my friends die while I fill up paperwork, informs, and draw up inventories.

—Hey! The work you do is as crucial as the work of any other soldier in the field.

—Yes, but... I miss the action! The blood pumping through my veins when I faced the enemy fire along with our troops!... And I... I miss it when things were simple. When we were not far away from our home, fighting against an enemy we barely know, all for a piece of frozen land we'll never even inhabit.

—But you do know why we're here, right? You do know this campaign has a purpose?

—Honestly?... —Séverin shook his head—. I don't care about it anymore. Yes, capturing Harmania is important because then we'll cut the trade between the Ruhmn empire and the Staeltorn kingdom, I get it, but... we're understaffed. We've suffered huge losses. And we're in the middle of winter. We're almost running out of food. Our equipment is old, and our guns aren't the best... The whole situation is horrible, and the best thing we could do at the moment is leave this place behind.

—We can't —Francis insisted—. We'll only be able to get out of here once the other two legions arrive.

—And when will they arrive?

—I... —the general sighed—. I don't know. But not all hope is lost. Laupin is back, and he brought along with him 20.000 new soldiers, and wagons full of provisions. We'll have to make do with what we've got until the other legions catch up.

—I don't understand how you still think we'll be able to get through this mess. How you still think that this disastrous campaign is worth something.

—I had faith in the birth of a republic when our King was still alive. I had faith in the revolution when it was still seen as a simple riot. I've had faith in the impossible before, and I know that, with enough resilience, we can make it possible —Francis commented, and made Séverin finally look him in the eyes—. We'll get through this winter, we'll free Harmania, and we'll win the war. Just have faith, and God will provide.

The younger man refused to keep arguing with him, and simply nodded. Then, extended his hand towards the general.

—Give me the letter.

—I haven't mentioned any letter.

—Most of the times you come searching for me is because you want me to send Madame Laura something, now come on —he moved his fingers—. Give it to me.

Francis smiled and handled him the envelope.

—Thanks.

—You're welcome.

—But... You do know you can come and visit me any time you like? Not only as a general, but as your friend?

—I do —Séverin nodded, and smiled back—. And I will, once I have the time. Working as your secretary isn't easy.

—I know. But you're doing a great job at it —Frances patted his upper leg, then stood up from the bench—. I have to find Charlie and Jacques now. Inform them of Laupin's arrival. Have you seen them around here?

—No. But I bet they're drinking in a dark corner somewhere. These two really love their wine.

—If you see them around...

—I'll share the news —Séverin agreed—. Go on, boss.

—I'm only Francis to you, my friend —the general bowed, widened his smile, and began to walk away.

Not finding his commanders anywhere in the city hall, he decided to take a stroll through the cold streets of the capital. Around the building he'd just come out off, the republican army's campsite was assembled. While troops used the surrounding abandoned buildings to sleep and live in, the streets in between were filled with their cannons, wagons, carts, and carriages. There were campfires scattered around the pavement, and a handful of soldiers moving between them, to keep themselves warm as they patrolled the area.

One of the loudest and busiest buildings in his vicinity was the "Sykehus", the biggest hospital of the city. For some reason, as he strolled by, Francis decided to walk inside and take a look around.

The number of patients was so high, people had been laid down over sheet on the hallway, and basically left there to die. The whole administration had been erased from existence, and the rooms that comprised it we now used for surgery. Buckets of blood, stained cloths, and discarded dirty clothes were found everywhere, as well as moaning civilians, crying children, barely alive elders, and shell-shocked soldiers.

One thing that he did notice, however, was the lack of Ruhmnians being cared for. The handful of them that he could spot, in the middle of the chaos, were being shunned and screamed at, for their cruelty and their repulsive character.

It was then when he learned just how much the native people of Harmania hated these soldiers. And how much they did not want to be a part of their empire.

Francis only understood half of what the locals were saying thanks to the Ruhmnian classes he'd been taking from Jacques, but it was enough for him to understand the bigger picture: the Harmanians considered the officers as "colonizers", and they wanted them gone from their land, at once.

This gave him an idea. Maybe he could help Laupin's division grow bigger by recruiting Harmanian volunteers. Because —from what he was seeing— these men really wanted a chance to fight.

Believing he had seen enough, he left the hospital and made his way to the mills, where most of his soldiers were located. There he found Charlie and Jacques —drinking, as Séverin had supposed— and he told them about Laupin's return.

Later in the day, as lunchtime approached, he went back to the city hall and met up with the major general himself. As they ate their soup, Francis shared with him the idea he'd had at the hospital:

—We can give them the same basic training my fellow officers and I went through at the camp, and then allow them to fight for their own land. They are furious with the Ruhmnians. They want their independence. And what would heighten the morale of our own troops more than seeing these local Harmanian men, without the proper gear and education, give their all to win this fight? They'll feel inspired by their struggle. I know I was, earlier today.

—But that means more mouths to feed, more money to pay...

—The Harmanians don't want food, riches or shelter. They want revenge. If we give them the means to avenge their fallen friends, parents, partners, sons and daughter, they will fight for us.

Laupin ate another spoonful of soup, with a thoughtful expression on his face. Then, he looked at the map of the region, extended over the desk, and sighed.

—Alright —he nodded—. I'll write to the Directory.

—With all due respect, we don't have time to ask them for permission —Francis replied—. We have to act now.

The major general ate another spoonful. Chewed on a small piece of meat until it lost its flavor. Look back at the former gardener.

—I hate to say it, but you're right —he set his bowl down, over a tea table nearby—. Let's get things in motion then.