Chapter 48
Jean-Pierre was having a terrible day, and it was not even noon.
“‘Join the revolution’, you said,” he complained to his old friend. “‘You’ll get good food and wine. Loot from mansions,’ even.”
Claude carefully chewed on his rock-hard piece of jerky. “No pain, no gain.”
“We’ve had a lot of pain for no damned gain,” Jean-Pierre hissed, pulling on his increasingly ragged sleeve to make a point. “Look around you! We’re a band of failed marauders, at best.”
“Marauders wouldn’t have these.” Claude lifted the large breechloader from his lap with a broad grin. The shiny new gun contrasted sharply with his missing teeth and dirty shirt.
“And how many times did we get to use them, hmm?”
“...Once.”
“While running away from a fucking knight.”
“Well, yes.”