Chapter Ten: Songs of Freedom

There was a lot of commotion. At the Place de la Bastille, where the coffin had been taken by the revolutionaries, speeches were being made. Grantaire zoned out for most of them, but became much more aware when he heard the sound of a single horse. He smiled and looked up to see Gavroche on the back of an enormous black horse. It seemed even bigger in comparison to the little gamin riding it.

'He looks like he's enjoying himself!' Courfeyrac said to Grantaire. Because of the noise from the crowd he had to shout even though he was standing right next to him.

'Yeah.' Grantaire was slightly worried for the boy. He hoped there were no unscrupulous soldiers around who would shoot him because he was a catalyst, not even caring about his age.

Just then, Gavroche raised the red flag and shouted the message it bore: 'La Liberté ou La Mort!'

Grantaire found himself surrounded by the remaining members of Les Amis. There were more people there that he didn't know, but he recognised some from Richefeu's. His eyes met Jehan's, and the latter nodded. They started to sing. A considerable amount of people joined in – it seemed Les Amis had a lot of connections whom they had taught the song to.

When it was over, multiple voices shouted 'To the barricades!'

Grantaire was about to follow most of the crowd when Enjolras put his hand on his shoulder.

'No, we're not going with them. They're going to run into the National Guard and fighting will break out. We need to go the other way and build our barricade so we're ready for their attack.'

'Ok, I'll just get Gavroche. Don't worry, I know my way to the Corinthe very well.'

'I'm sure you do,' Enjolras smirked.

Gavroche ran up to Grantaire almost as soon as Enjolras turned around.

'Come on, what are you waiting for?' Gavroche was almost jumping up with excitement. 'Let's go!'

It was too late to do anything. Grantaire had to take Gavroche along and pray that nothing would happen to him.

They caught up with Bahorel, who was crouching at the corner of a building.

'Whatcha doing, Bahorel?' The man hadn't noticed the boy creep up behind him and turned round, startled.

'Oh, it's you two,' he said with obvious relief. 'See that cart there? It's carrying lime. I reckon we can tip it over and add the barrels to the barricade.'

On Bahorel's command, the three of them jumped out onto the street and overturned the poor man's cart. It contained three barrels that they took to the barricade.

Already, it was impressive. It was almost as tall as Bahorel, after only ten minutes. There was an atmosphere of indescribable solidarity and passion as the barricade grew stronger and taller.

Thanks to Bossuet's efforts an omnibus was added to the structure. Grantaire caught sight of Enjolras, standing on the crest of the barricade. At first he did not want to ruin the majestic scene but his need to see him was too strong so he climbed up the barricade and stood behind him.

'You came then,' Enjolras spoke quietly.

'You thought I would abandon you?'

'No,' he turned to face Grantaire. 'But I am relieved that you are here now.'

Grantaire could not hide how happy those words made him feel.

'You see, Enjolras,' he was being half-serious. 'I am capable of something.'

'I never doubted it. But you are sober, I see. That is a surprise."

'No one is more surprised than myself,' Grantaire grinned. 'We have Jehan to thank for that.'

The rain stopped and new recruits arrived.

'Look there!' Enjolras was excited. 'These men have brought gunpowder.'

'This is really happening, isn't it?' Grantaire said to himself. 'Many are going to die'.

'I know, Grantaire, but sacrifices have to be made.'

'You mean dying?'

'I mean killing.'

There was a bleak pause. Combeferre and Courfeyrac climbed up onto the barricade and stood facing the other two men. They were energised and out of breath at the same time.

'Enjolras! The barricade in Rue Mondétour is going well! And this one is almost finished.'

'It is only missing one thing,' Combeferre added, and produced from behind his back an impressive red flag. He tossed it over to Grantaire.

'Will you do us the honour?' he winked at Enjolras and passed him the flag. After a moment's hesitation, the man took a deep breath and took the fabric in his right hand. He laid his left hand on top of Grantaire's for a moment – they silently consented that this was it; the act of putting up the flag was the final admission of their obligation. They could only go forward from this point.

'I will accept this honour for my motherland.' Enjolras took the flag and walked towards the centre of the barricade, trying to find the perfect spot.

Grantaire was left staring in awe at his hand, still feeling Enjolras' on his own.

'Aha!' Grantaire looked up to see Enjolras triumphant, having tied the flag to the pole of the omnibus at the very centre of the barricade. Then it felt complete.

They all noticed Gavroche, moving around the place with the energy and speed of a fly. Grantaire called him over, although Gavroche seemed to be asking something of all the revolutionaries he passed. They all smirked and shook their head.

'A musket! I want a musket! Why don't you give me a musket?' his voice reached their ears.

'A musket for you?' Combeferre said.

'Well?' Gavroche answered, 'why not? I had one in 1830, in the dispute with Charles X.'

Enjolras was about to say something, but Grantaire got there first.

'Even I don't have one yet. As soon as there's a free one you can have it.'

Gavroche turned to Enjolras.

'If you are killed before me, I will take yours.'

'Gamin!' Enjolras exclaimed in indignation.

'Smooth-face!' Gavroche retorted and disappeared before Enjolras could react.

Enjolras stared after him slightly dumbstruck while Grantaire was bursting his sides laughing.

They dragged a table out of the wine-shop; it was one Grantaire had often sat at, and it looked very out of place. Enjolras brought out a square box which Courfeyrac opened, revealing the cartridges inside. He smiled as he distributed them. Everyone was assigned thirty. As Enjolras passed by Grantaire, he hesitated for a moment, then walked on without giving Grantaire his share. Grantaire felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Did Enjolras not think him worth wasting cartridges on?

The leader placed sentinels on three different streets. He was looking around for a man he could spare to stand guard at la Petite Truanderie, when he noticed Grantaire looking lost. He motioned for him to follow.

When they reached the corner they seemed to be a great distance away from the preparations at the barricade.

'You are wondering, perhaps, why I did not give you a musket or ammunition.' Enjolras voiced Grantaire's thoughts directly. 'I know you are perfectly capable of fighting, and would do your share if it came to it, but I know you don't want to.'

'I don't. But you don't either, do you?'

'No, Grantaire, of course I don't. But it is my duty to France, to defend Liberty, Equality and Fraternity'.

'Is that not my duty as well?'

'You are from a different time. I imagine it is peaceful, otherwise I don't believe you could be complacent with it. I have to accept fighting because it is necessary, but you have been raised your whole life never needing to fight. I can't expect you to do it now.'

'How else can I help?'

'You can be a sentinel here some of the time, and you can help make ammunition and tend to the wounded. I assure you, you will be needed.'

'Thank you, Enjolras.' Grantaire was grateful to the man who always showed him kindness. He only wished he could have been more liked by him before the end.