Enjolren looked up to the completed barricade. Yes, it was very crude, but it was the embodiment of his dream, and he inhaled happily.
"Now we pledge ourselves to hold this barricade!" the students all cried in unison, smiling and cheering.
"Let them come in their legions," Marioh warned. "And they will be met!"
"Have faith in yourself!" Enjolren cried to the troops. "Don't be afraid!"
Ashitaire raised a rifle above his head. "Let's give them a screwing they'll never forget!"
"This… is where it begins!" Kantferre told the rest. It was true, and all were fairly confident in Enjolren and his vision. They believed him, and trusted that he would be the only leader in a French revolution.
"And if I die in the fight to be free," Meenfeyrac vowed, "where the fighting is hardest – there I will be."
Norilly shook her fist in excitement. "Let them come if they dare – we'll be there!"
Enjolren heard the sound of marching troops. He turned immediately to a rifle hole in the barricade and peered through. The French troops were there – thousands, marching near the barricade. Enjolren scowled.
One of them, appearing to be one of the leaders, raised a loud-bailer to his mouth and began to speak.
"You at the barricade, listen to this!" he screamed over the dull roar of tramping soldiers. "No one is coming to help you to fight! You're on your own – you have no friends! Give up your guns or die!"
Enjolren sneered at the army and lifted himself up proudly. "Damn their warnings – damn their lies! They will see my people rise!"
"Damn their warnings!" the troops declared as they picked up Enjolren's chant. "Damn their lies! They will see the people rise!"
A clank of metal aroused Marioh of a foreign presence. He grabbed a rifle hurriedly and cocked it at the new intruder. This man, with green hair and glittering eyes, was climbing over with his palms raised best as he could manage.
Enjolren placed an arm in front of Marioh. He was suspicious, sure, but he didn't go on the offensive.
"Listen, my friends," the disguised Lyvert pleaded as he stepped onto the ground gracefully. "I have done as I said… I have been to their lines, I have counted their lines, and I will tell what I can."
"Better be warned," he said to Enjolren. "They have armies to spare, and the danger is real. We will need all our cunning to bring them to heel."
"Have faith," Enjolren told both Marioh and Lyvert. Marioh uneasily lowered the rifle, but still clutched it in his hands. Enjolren turned, ever the depreciated, gracious rebel host, to Lyvert.
"If you know what their movements are…" Enjolren smiled. "We'll spoil their game. There are ways that a people can fight – we shall overcome their power!"
Lyvert smirked. The leader had fallen perfectly for his ploy, but he had to keep working if he was to pull off the illusion. "I have overheard their plans. The will be no attack tonight – they intend to starve us out before they start a proper fight. Concentrate their force… hit us from the right."
Enjolren nodded, but up from the top of the barricade, the little Maroche saw right through Lyvert's act. He sneered silently and began to stand up.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Shaman King or Les Mis.
A/N: Just out of curiosity… do you mind if I add two songs? I have an idea for Drink with Me…