Chapter Text
(Karl’s POV)
December 1813.
We’ve arrived at the castle after weeks of travelling through a harsh winter. We’re running low on supplies, and it seems God is no longer with us.
I think the Field Marshal has a cold.
I leaned against the wall of the cellar as the soldiers finished off the last of the cannibals. I stares down into the open teapot, not noticing someone walking towards me.
“Karl.”
“Hm?” I looked up.
“You’re running low on tea, aren’t you?”
“Uh, yes sir.”
“Hm. There should be some lying around here.”
The field marshal started to cough hysterically. Again.
I led him to the top room of the castle, the field marshal almost falling multiple times. He had almost gotten killed by the cannibals, however they only managed to attack his arm.
I’m assuming me and the field marshal would be staying in the top room.
The field marshal leaned against the wall below the window. The stars were faintly shining behind the snow and clouds. There was silence for a few minutes.
Is he sleeping?
A deep voice spoke up.
“You should be quick with finding that tea Karl, this cold is-“
Coughing again.
“I’ll be quick sir.”
The field marshal nodded in approval.
Quickly running down the long staircase, I heard a conversation coming from the bottom. I listened.
I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. That’s not what my father taught me.
“..the British…” My head perked up.
The British? What about them?
I tried to hear more from the bottom.
…
Nothing.
I sighed. I should get back to finding that tea.
“Officer Karl! I found some tea for the field marshal!”
“Oh, thank you.”
I walked off, hearing the sapper mutter something about being terrified of me. I’m used to it.
Stepping into the top room, the field marshal looked at the tin of tea leaves in my hand, then at me. He smiled.
You’d do anything for the field marshal.
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(Barry’s POV)
I…have to go back?
I stared at the piece of paper in my hands, trembling.
‘The British Army must go to Kaub to assist Field Marshal Blücher’s army..’
It can’t be.
Shaking and crying, I fell to my knees. I just recovered from San Sebastian.
“Why must I go back….”
I looked towards the window overlooking London. The stars aren’t very bright. Slowly tip-toing to the window, I thought about San Sebastian. The bombing. The screaming.
The cannibals.
I shuddered at the thought of those beasts. It was hard to think they were once human, with lives and families….
I sighed. I knew that I had to go back. If not for my home, for God.
Is God really here?