Marek listened to Edward Johnston regaling the latest installment of grad students about the history of the site. As per usual he was telling them only the facts, not giving them any of the passion. Marek gritted his teeth as he listened and yanked off his hat.
"The English army in the nice red uniforms," he was saying while pointing to his model of what the site was supposed to have looked like in 1357, "occupied the village of Castelgard. The French meanwhile were advancing, trying to drive them out of there, in this direction," his hands mimicked the direction of the onslaught like dizzy butterflies, "over the river, past the monastery and up and over to the heights here."
The Professor's son, Chris, knocked over the French soldiers he'd been screwing around with. Marek rolled his eyes. Chris could usually be found getting in the way. He had no interest in history or archeology, but he made a point to visit his dad every summer regardless of the location. And more often than not, there was a dig involved.
"Just leave it Chris, that's fine," the Professor brushed him out of the way, "before you wreck the place." He continued as if nothing had happened. "The English army meanwhile had retreated to La Roque—well fortified, very well supplied—and both sides dug in for a long siege."
Marek couldn't take it any longer. He had to jump in. "The French were trying to push the English out of France for 100 years and Lord Oliver tried to take the fight out of the French." Professor Johnston smiled at him. Marek tended to exaggerate and romanticize history, but it always sucked the students in. He was a favorite among them. Marek brought history to life and kept you spellbound. The Professor stepped back and let Marek take over. They needed these recruits. "Now he has a prisoner, a woman of class and a woman of nobility—Commander Arnaut's sister, Lady Claire.
"During the battle he hangs her from the battlements for all the French forces to see." Marek clenched his fist. That part always pissed him off. What kind of English Lord kills a woman to taunt the enemy? And the English were supposed to be civilized? What happened to chivalry? Marek didn't have a very high opinion of Lord Oliver. "But instead of demoralizing the French—no, no, no—" Marek wagged his finger at the students and bounced on the balls of his feet. This was his favorite part of the story, "—it whips them into a frenzy! And they attack the castle like madmen and they overpower the English with sheer passion! So the fortress of La Roque fell in one night because of the death of one woman: Lady Claire." He held his hat in his hands as if he had just doffed it to pay his respects. The story of Lady Claire had always touched Marek in a way he could never explain. She must have been very special to have an entire army react with rage. The enchanted students remained quiet, as if a moment of silence was necessary for this brave, dead woman.
"All right folks, that's enough of the academics for today," Marek sprang to life and plopped his hat back on his head, "time to go and get your hands dirty." He led the crowd over to the dig site as Professor Johnston was left to shake his head in amusement. Every single time that man managed to steal the students from him.
Disclaimer: these characters are not my own. I borrowed them from Michael Crichton. Any dialogue is taken directly from the movie version.