Winter came to Vendée with a vengeance, an icy grip that held the land in its thrall. For days, snow fell relentlessly, whipped by a bitter chilly bise that howled across the countryside, draping the world in a blanket of white.
"I ache for them, Andre. For Sacha, for every patriot who suffers, and for every soldier who falls!" Edith spoke to her beloved, riding on horseback through the snow-covered forest on their way back to camp after a patrol.
"There are, of course, the shameful speculators like that official, but most patriots stand with the people, don''t they? Why do these peasants willingly let themselves be used by nobles and priests, and turn against us, who need their strength so desperately?"
"Perhaps the peasants just want to be left alone to live their peaceful lives," Andre sighed.
"Peaceful lives? Peace under oppression and injustice, in the false tranquility of self-deception? Is that worth more than liberty?" Philippe exclaimed.
"People aren''t just black or white, Philippe. Vendée is different from Paris and the cities. There are many nobles here who are almost seen as part of the people, and the church isn''t as corrupt as well. Mild oppression can numb the people, making it harder to awaken them." Andre seemed lost in thought, as if remembering something.
"You seem to know a lot about Vendée," Edith looked at him curiously.
"I''ve only read a lot about this region in my colleagues'' reports," And