64. Le Havre
64
LE HAVRE
T hey arrived at the port of Le Havre deep in the night.
émile had slept cuddled up between Souveraine and Catherine.
Henry had fallen asleep in Léon’s arms, a blanket pulled over his shoulders, while Léon remained awake all the night with his bloody axe by his hand, determined to keep them all safe should they run into any trouble.
But there was none. The border checks out of Paris were lax with celebration of Louis’ death, and as they were leaving rather than entering, the drunk and happy guards thought little of allowing two women and a child to exit the city.
Le Havre was busy, and even at three o’clock in the morning, there were men at work on the docks.
Léon woke Henry, and while the others took their turn in the carriage for rest and repast, they moved among the workmen, discovering their options of escape.
There were two boats due to leave France within the hour that still had room on board for all five.
“Where to, then?” asked Henry, as they made their way back to the carriage.
“If we leave France, we can’t come back. We’ll be declared traitors, even if it is untrue and revolting,” Léon sighed.
“You do realise that boat probably sailed, so to speak, when you killed dozens of people in the main square of Paris?”
“And I’d do it again,” said Léon.
“Look what they did to you.” He touched a hand to Henry’s cut cheek.
“And your beautiful hair.” He kissed him.
“And that was five nights without you in my arms.”
“There won’t be another one,” said Henry.
“Not ever again. But you have to know, if we do this, if we leave, émile can’t come back either. Not to France. Maybe not ever.”
“Then so be it,” said Léon.
“I promised I’d save him from the axe. Then today’s the day. I never expected to get here the way we have, but this was my dream. This is what I worked for.”
Henry kissed Léon’s cheek.
“Your name suits you, you know? Léon Lyon. Twice the lion. Twice the courage. Twice the beauty. Twice the appetite.” At this last, Léon blushed, out in the open as they were, so Henry tried to pull them back on track.
“You’re all in?”
Léon smile back brightly.
“Let’s do it. Let’s go.”
He lifted Léon’s hand to kiss him.
“I promise you won’t regret it.”
Léon laughed.
“I don't believe that for a second. But this is the only adventure I ever want to have. A life with you.”
Henry swung the door of the carriage open, and they climbed in to find the others sitting on the floor, huddled around a lamp, sharing some bread and cheese they’d bought for the trip.
“So here are our options,” Henry began. “There are two boats leaving within the hour. There’s America.” He scanned their eyes for a reaction that never came. “Or there’s England.”
“Back to England?” Catherine wailed. “But we escaped! We just escaped!”
“Well, I know,” Henry said, “but France is slightly fucked right now.”
“Slightly,” Léon agreed. Shuffling for his brother to climb onto his lap, “But that doesn’t mean it always will be.”
“It won’t,” Henry declared, that same light in his eyes that Léon both adored and had learned to fear. “We’ll come back one day when things settle. When all those beautiful things we’ve dreamed of come true. Because I still believe it, even now, that the world will become better for what we’ve all done here today. Nothing beautiful is ever born without blood.”
“What about flowers?” asked émile.
“Well, yes, flowers, but that’s not exactly?—”
“Or bread,” said Souveraine, snapping off a piece of hers.
“That’s not really my point.”
“Books,” mused Catherine.
“The point is,” said Henry, “good things take time. And I was talking to Mary’s fake husband, you know, the American one, and he assured me their nation is built on all the same great principles as our revolution. Freedom, compassion, a belief in the rights of all men?—”
“And women?” Souveraine interjected.
“Well, they didn’t specifically say that,” said Henry. “But yes, probably, the rights of men and women to be equal. It’s the very thing we’ve been searching for here in Europe, only over there, it’s a very young country, and they don’t have to deal with half the complications we have going on.”
Léon noted the na?ve idealism that sparkled over Henry’s words. Perhaps he would never learn. And that was exactly what Léon loved about him. He asked softly, “If this American is so in love with America, what’s he doing over here in Paris?”
“Business,” Henry mumbled. “Business goes on.”
“Mmm. There’s a lot of money to be made in ‘business’ right now, I’m sure, when all of France is being cut up and redistributed by the new regime.”
Henry wrinkled that haughty mouth Léon adored. “That’s rather a cynical view of things.”
“And isn’t half the reason our people are starving that the king I just decapitated gave it to America to fight a war against the English?”
“Yes, but it’s not as though you love the English so very much, anyway.”
“I love one of them.” He kissed Henry’s cheek. “Two of them,” he added, exchanging a smile with Catherine. “But my point is, I don’t want to go anywhere either me or émile are going to be called up to fight in a war. We’ve done enough. I want somewhere quiet.”
“All right,” said Henry, clearly a little dampened. To console himself, he added, “After the fighting’s all done, I’m sure America will be a brilliant country. Maybe ten years from now. By god, imagine it two hundred and fifty years from now. What an oasis.”
“I can see it now,” Léon tried to mollify him. “A land full of educated, enlightened people.”
“Sharing the wealth evenly, no poverty,” Souveraine added.
“Healthcare for everyone in a country that rich,” Catherine put in.
“Where men can love men, and women can love women, and everything in between,” said Henry.
“Where women can do what they like with their bodies and their lives,” Catherine went on.
“No executions,” said émile, to a pat on the head from Léon.
“No hate,” said Henry.
“No racism,” said Souveraine. “Whatever that is.”
“Yes,” Léon chuckled. “Whatever that is.”
They all laughed, then sighed. “All right,” said Henry, “we’ll plan that for the very near future. I’m sure America will sort itself out any minute now. But until then…”
“That leaves England,” said Léon.
“But won’t they hate me terribly?” asked Souveraine.
“With good reason,” said Henry. “And you’re French too.”
Catherine slapped his arm, even if the joke was good natured. She took Souveraine’s hand up and said, “I won’t have you talk to my partner that way.”
“Your… What?”
“We’re together now,” Catherine informed him, her sly smile showing how much she enjoyed his shock. “Not just as friends, but the way you and Léon are.”
“What? Since when?” He sent Léon a look that was both accusatory and appalled, to which he received a half shrug from Léon.
“Since…” Souveraine looked warmly into Catherine’s clear and loving eyes. “I don’t know when. It took me a while to realise. But it was always there.”
“From that first day,” said Catherine.
“Hmm,” Henry huffed. “Okay, then. Okay.” It was a lot for Henry to accept. He hadn’t approved of Souveraine as Léon’s love interest, but evidently she wasn’t going anywhere. And he had come to like her. Somewhat. He supposed. If for no other reason than for the very good care she’d always taken of Catherine. And the more he thought about it, the more his heart softened on the matter.
Particularly when Souveraine then said, “I think the money from my bar should go some way to supporting us all. Léon, can you and Henri write to DuPont? Have him oversee the sale for us? And perhaps we can go into the same business over there. But…” She examined them all carefully, a note of worry about her brow. “Tell me, do the English drink much ale?”
Henry laughed. “I think we’re going to be fine.”
Léon grabbed his hand tight. “Very well. An inn. In England. Somewhere out of the way. And I shall chop wood. Do you have a great many forests?”
“At this point in time, we do.”
“Then that’s perfect. Somewhere green and pretty. The paradise you told me about so long ago.”
“Somewhere I can ride Destroyer,” émile put in sleepily, his child’s heart set on this and only this amongst the many other plans for his future.
Léon’s heart stuttered in his chest. “émile, I don’t know if we can… I…” He licked his lips. “It’s very expensive.”
Henry’s thumb began to twirl the ruby ring about his finger.
“And it costs so much to feed a horse,” Léon continued. “And it’s a long way to England. And… He’s a-a French horse. He won’t understand the English horses.”
“Ange,” said Henry softly, his hand falling on his knee, “I’ll get our tickets.”
Catherine passed across a little bag. “That’s all the money we have,” she said pointedly, looking him in the eye. “It won’t go far. Not once we pay for this trip and their silence.”
But Henry was nothing if not a dreamer. The sale of the carriage and two of the horses was already required to afford the crossing. It took Henry’s beloved ring, his sword, one of his pistols, and almost all the money in the little bag to secure Destroyer’s and Azazel’s fare.
When he returned to the carriage, the first thing Léon noticed was his naked little finger. “Henri…” His heart swelled so large he could barely contain it, and he tripped across the wet ground to him. “I love you.”
Henry caught him, stumbling backwards. “You might not be saying that when we have nothing to eat.”
“You’re amazing.” Léon kissed him, hard, then dropped to his knees to tell émile, who wrapped iron arms around Henry’s waist for about three seconds before Henry picked him up to carry him on board.
“It’s okay,” Catherine sighed out, not having missed a thing. “We can always boost another carriage.”
“Quiet, Cathy!” Henry hissed. “It’s a fresh start. We have to be model citizens from now on, and we’ll survive just fine.”
She rolled her eyes, then slung a hand around Souveraine’s shoulders, while Souveraine wondered aloud, “It hadn’t occurred to me until just now, but… am I actually allowed to open a bar in England? As a sole female trader? In fact… Am I even allowed to stay?”
Léon’s boots skidded on the wet planks. “We stick together. If you have to leave, I will leave with you.”
Henry’s cheek twitched.
“I know, Léon,” said Souveraine. “I know you mean to. But we both know the world we’re entering is not half as enlightened as Paris has been.”
Henry’s tongue tsked. On a heavy sigh, “I guess it’s been leading up to this the whole time, hasn’t it?”
“Leading up to what?” Souveraine asked, lightly offended by his tone.
Henry shook his head, then turned to Léon. “You know there isn’t a thing on this earth I wouldn't do for you. I told you that. And now I’m going to prove it.”