As the Heroes recovered from their wounds, Henri searched the battlefield
for Lt. Antre. Stabilizing the wounded where he could, he began concentrating
on Montaigne officers, in the hope that some might know her. Most recoiled,
seeing the Castillian uniform, and fearing for their lives. One asked what
unit she was with, and when Henri said she'd been at Casa Blanca, struggled
to sit up, gripping Henri's tunic.
"What do you know about Casa Blanca?" he hissed.
Henri was silent for a moment, and muttered, "I was there."
The Montaigne sank bank into unconsciousness, with the words, "I thought
we'd gotten all of you... "
Finally, Henri returned to camp for another round of surgery and, after the Heroes saw the children off to bed, enjoyed the evening among the rest of the soldiers. Wine flowed freely, and the troops caroused as best they could, reminding themselves that they were still alive. Merriment became dalliance, and dalliance became a blur, and then came sleep.
The morning's hangover was announced by the roar of cannons in the distance. The Heroes clutched their heads in pain, and soon traced the explosions to the town of San Augustin. As they raced for the church, and the children, they dodged debris, cannonballs, and flames. The church was on fire when they reached it, and the Heroes charged in to round up children huddling under pews, behind altars, and in whatever hole they could find. As the flames grew worse, Quinn raced through the sanctuary, scooping up the younger ones, and shooing the older ones out, with Cecil in close pursuit. Henri dodged falling debris, and searched in vain for more of their charges, but could find none. Finally, Cecil took the last out with him through a window, and the flames were forcing a retreat. Henri looked to the altar, swept up the large Prophets' Cross in his arms, and followed Cecil out and to safety. (the rescue was made tense by the Healing rules we're using-- surgery can repair Dramatic wounds in large numbers, but each Dramatic Wound so healed becomes 10 flesh wounds, which are not tested for until the Hero takes a new injury-- Cecil and Henri went into the church with 60 FW... )
Once outside, the cannonades stopped, then started up again in greater numbers-- two Castillian ships had arrived, and sent the Montaigne to the bottom of the harbor. Joaquin Orduno reached the town square a while later, and we exchanged news of the battles at La Reina and at La Ultima Muralla. Joaquin agreed to take the children of San Augustin and Casa Blanca with him, meeting the Heroes in five days at Falcon's Point, before continuing on to San Cristobal.
After recovering their breath, wits, and seeing the children off, Henri wrote a letter to his parents, and Handed it Off to his brother Reynard. As the evening meal commenced, Henri felt the bristling sensation of someone attempting to Hand Off something to him. Tearing a hole open, he retrieved a letter, sealed with what he realized to his horror was the mark of Ivan de la Riche Du Paroisse, military governor of Casa Blanca. He tore it open, looking for blood, and upon seeing that Ivan had signed the letter in blood, he immediately threw it into the fire before Ivan could follow it to him. (unbeknownst to Henri, his deceptions had worked beyond his dreams-- the letter was an attempt to mount a rescue of Ivan's capable informer... )
In the morning, battle recommenced. It was a brutal, bloody affair, with the Heroes new commander, Francesca falling quickly to gunfire while attempting to draw the Montaigne advance aside. Asgard leapt to pull Francesca to safety, and Henri remained engaged beside her; he tried to revive Francesca, but in vain. Quinn again charged to raise the flag, sending another Eisen mercenary to the mud, as the tide of battle turned sharply against Castille. Only a sudden cavalry charge by a troupe of purple clad riders, led by a white-masked horseman stalled the Montaigne advance, and The Vagabond's name began to be shouted among his people. In a last drive forward, Castille pushed the invaders back, buying a reprieve from l'Empereur's soldiers. Henri fell once more, with the sun, over Castille's muddy fields and darkness brought the endless blast of guns to a blessed silence.