Read Chapter 25: The Granary Fortress

Rochefort's depot was a fortress disguised as a warehouse.

Stone walls surrounded six enormous barns, a manor house, wells, stables, and a central tower. Ditches had been deepened. Wooden fighting platforms lined the walls. The five hundred mercenaries inside were veterans, not hired peasants.

Martin studied the place from a ridge.

“A direct assault kills us,” Jehan said.

“Yes.”

“A siege takes weeks.”

“Yes.”

“We have four days of food.”

“Yes.”

Jehan looked at him. “I miss when you disagreed.”

Rochefort had chosen the position well. He possessed food. Martin's coalition did not.

The battlefield itself repeated the larger problem.

So Martin refused the battlefield.

He sent militia around the fortress to block roads but ordered them not to attack. Greybourne's archers harassed the walls at long range. Arnaud positioned cavalry where Rochefort could see them.

Then Martin opened a market.

Two miles away.

Agnès Courtois and the Millers' League arrived with carts of flour. Merchants brought beans, salt, onions, and ale. Prices were posted publicly.

Rochefort's mercenaries watched smoke rise from cooking fires outside.

On the second day, Martin sent a herald to the walls.

“Any man who leaves without weapon may eat and go free. Any man who brings his weapon receives three days' pay. Any squad that leaves together receives a week's pay.”

Rochefort executed the herald.

Martin sent another.

On the third day, eleven mercenaries deserted at night.

By noon, thirty-seven more came over.

They reported that Rochefort had coin but little trust. Many soldiers had been promised bonuses after departure east. Rumours said the Concord was collapsing and the promised money might not exist.

Martin increased the offer.

Rochefort hanged two men caught discussing desertion.

That accelerated it.

By the fourth morning, nearly one hundred and fifty had left.

Rochefort ordered a sortie.

His cavalry attacked the market.

Martin had expected it.

Greybourne's archers fired from hedges. Free Hound crossbowmen struck horses. Arnaud's cavalry countercharged only after Rochefort's men lost momentum.

The sortie collapsed.

The defenders retreated through the gate.

Martin's men followed too closely.

For ten minutes, the battle became the direct assault he had tried to avoid.

Jehan was killed beneath the gatehouse by a spear through the throat.

Will Hobb took an arrow in the thigh.

Martin fought inside the arch, pushing through bodies while defenders tried to close the doors.

Then the gate jammed on a fallen horse.

Free Hounds poured through.

The fortress fell barn by barn.

Rochefort withdrew to the central tower with sixty loyal men.

Martin ordered the tower surrounded.

No fire.

“No fire?” Arnaud asked. “That is the fastest way.”

“Six barns of grain are ten paces away.”

Arnaud looked embarrassed.

War still ate.

Martin had learned to watch the kitchen.

The market outside Rochefort's granary fortress began almost as theatre and quickly became logistics. Agnès arranged baking ovens beneath canvas awnings. Town women sold onions and cheese. A barber-surgeon set up a bench near the well. Deserting mercenaries arrived hungry, suspicious, and ashamed, expecting chains or recruitment by force.

Martin ordered their names recorded but asked no questions until they had eaten.

This produced better intelligence than torture could have.

Men described low morale, delayed bonuses, and rumours that Rochefort intended to march east with only his most loyal companies, abandoning the rest without pay. One Gascon claimed the treasury was nearly empty. Another insisted it held thousands of crowns. Contradictory reports were themselves useful: Rochefort had lost control of information inside his walls.

Martin sent the rumours back deliberately, including the true fact that deserters received food and safe passage.

Greybourne approved. “Siegecraft by gossip.”

“Cheaper than stones.”

On the third evening, Martin walked the camp and saw former enemies eating together under the same awnings. A French militia boy asked an English archer how to string a longbow. The archer demonstrated, then mocked the boy's arms. Nearby, a former Concord guard recognised a cousin among the Millers' League wagoneers.

The fortress wall separated not nations but choices.

That was why Rochefort's position weakened so quickly. He could pay men to guard grain. He could not easily persuade them that dying for his ownership of that grain was honourable.

The sortie on the fourth day nearly reversed everything. When Jehan died beneath the gatehouse, Martin's discipline fractured for several minutes. Free Hounds surged forward shouting revenge. Martin himself entered the arch with no plan beyond reaching the men who had killed his sergeant.

A blow to his helmet knocked him against the wall. For a moment his sight narrowed to sparks.

Then he heard Hugues's voice in memory: anger is expensive when other men pay for it.

Martin dragged himself back and began shouting orders. Crossbowmen moved to the flanks. Militia cleared the gate approach instead of crowding it. Greybourne's archers suppressed the wall walk. Arnaud brought shields forward.

The attack became organised again.

They won not because Martin remained calm, but because he recovered before rage consumed everyone else's lives.

After the fortress fell, he sat beside Jehan's body for a long time.

Ysabeau found him there.

“You nearly killed yourself.”

“I know.”

“Worse, you nearly made everyone follow.”

“I know.”

She crouched beside him. “Then remember that too.”

Martin closed Jehan's eyes.

Another rule.