The French Fiasco Preview:

The first public preview of The French Fiasco is out!

They were waiting for him dressed in the uniforms of the local Garde Mobile when Carl got to the clearing on the French side of the river. Monsieur de Villeneuve glared at him, then spoke to his seconds as Carl stepped onto the field. The one who had done the talking in Captain Schultz’s office a few days before turned to look at Carl, then approached him as the other stayed with Villeneuve.

“You were limping. Are you injured?” he asked in English.

“No, just a cut on my foot,” Carl said.

The man looked down at the foot in question, then looked back at Carl’s face. “Where are your seconds?”

“I don’t have any,” Carl said, stopping short of telling him that he had no friends either. He decided that sympathy-mongering would get him nowhere with these men.

The man looked at him for a moment with undisguised scorn. “Wait here, please,” the man said, then returned to the others. 

They spoke in hushed tones. Monsieur de Villeneuve guffawed loudly, throwing a poisonous look toward Carl, then looked back to his seconds. The conversation continued in which Villeneuve seemed to become more agitated and the other men had to calm him down. At last, he seemed to acquiesce with a dismissive hand gesture and a roll of his eyes.

The Frenchman with whom Carl had been speaking returned, his face stone cold and business-like. “Due to your inability to enlist a single gentleman to stand with you, I volunteer to act as your second. Do you accept?”

“Um…yeah,” Carl said, surprised by the offer. “Thank you.”

“I assure you I take no pleasure in it, but I will perform my duties in good faith.”

“Of course. I would expect nothing less,” Carl said, feeling the weight of the man’s contempt.“Can I at least ask your name, sir? I’d like to know who it is that stands with me.” 

“Lieutenant Gabriel d’Archambeau, Garde Mobile Nationale de Forbach.”

“I’m Carl Smith,” Carl said, extending his hand. “…actually, my mother is French.”

D’Archambeau looked at the proffered hand then back at Carl. “I know who you are. What are your instructions for your body?”

“Um,” Carl said as he lowered his hand. “I guess return it to my camp, maybe discreetly if you could.” His voice trailed off as it was a strange thing to ponder. 

“It will be done,” d’Archambeau said. “Now I shall inspect and load the pistols with my counterpart. Once we’re done, you will be given first choice. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Carl said, dropping his eyes. 

“Excellent.” Gabriel turned to walk away.

Carl looked up at him again, “Monsieur d’Archambeau…”

The man stopped and turned. “Yes?”

“I didn’t do it…” Carl stumbled as rage flashed across the man’s face. “…I mean, I didn’t rape her…” That only seemed to make it worse. “…and I’m not the one who hurt her.” 

The man seemed to struggle for a moment, then returned to his cold countenance. “If that’s true, then perhaps God will grant you mercy,” he said then turned to join the other second who was waiting near a small field table on which the pistols and accessories lay. 

Click here to read more: The French Fiasco

What do you think? My editing team and I went through a few choices. This one seemed to tell a story even out of context, yet it doesn’t give too much away. Even though this bit doesn’t have a lot of action like the other scenes we looked at, we felt the tension was there.

More importantly, what do you think? Should we have gone with something with more action? Is the subtext of what’s going on too disturbing? Does it make you want to read more? I’d love to know!

Coming April 16!The French Fiasco

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