Courfeyrac looked around the campfire at the circle of general he had gathered. None of them had imagined that this war would take ten years; if they had, they never would have agreed to aid Marius in retrieving Cosette from Troy. Yet, here they were. Courfeyrac had to admit that with all the rumors, about Eponine going crazy after Azelma's sacrifice and taking Monparnasse as a lover, he rather preferred the war to Mycenae. Now, he looked about the commanders. "We have two choices. We can simply go home, or we can finish this. What do you all say?"
Enjolras sat, their own golden Apollo on earth. He may have had a woman's beauty, but he was invulnerable, and one of the best fighters among them. Grantaire sat next to him, gently stroking Enjolras' long blond hair. They fought as a team: Enjolras slaughtering with his sword, and Grantaire firing arrows from behind his invincible hero's shield. Enjolras answered Courfeyrac's question first.
"I swore when this war began that I would fight until it was ended, and I do not find running away a noble end. I will stay, and I will fight, and those Trojan dogs shall pay for what they have done to us." Grantaire did not say a word. Enjolras had spoken, and that was his answer too.
L'aigle spoke next. "I hear that Musichetta is having a devil of a time with these suitors who swear that I'm dead. Yet, I see no point in leaving now if no one else is. I shall stay and offer my advice as long as you require it, High King Courfeyrac." Courfeyrac nodded. Through much coughing, Joly, the "oldest" of them all, agreed to stay; and gradually it was determined that they would continue on in the battle.
"It seems to me," said L'aigle, "that the best thing would be to attempt to steal the Palladium. It will throw all of Troy into a panic, and that would certainly be to our advantage." "How are we going to do that?" asked Enjolras. "I'll storm the battlements and seize it myself!" shouted Marius. He had leapt to his feet, but was quickly jerked back down by Courfeyrac. "Do you honestly think that after ten years of fighting, it will be that easy to get your wife back? We need a plan."
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the shadows. "Perhaps I can help." Immediately Enjolras' sword was at the stranger's throat. "Show yourself," he ordered. Javert stepped into the light of the campfire. "Prince Javert, seer of Troy and twin to the insane prophetess Fantine. What are you doing here?" Javert smiled. "I think I have an offer you shan't be able to pass up…"