Defeat
By Alexanderofmacedon

The honor of Bretagne had been crushed in the eyes of Nicolas. Only seven months ago Nicolas’ unit of Gendarme had fled the field of battle at Pavia. He had watched as the glory of France was crushed by the Imperial army under Charles V and his king, Francis I, taken captive. Nicolas remembered how great the year 1525 started, and how sour it had gone.
As Nicolas approached his home village in southern Bretagne, the peasants stared sympathetically at him. His mangled hair showed under his battered helmet. Dirt caked his face, and only a resemblance of his family crest remained on his armor. His eyes were cold as his body bounced to the trot of his horse. Everything about him screamed, defeat.

When Nicolas arrived at his home he slowly dismounted his horse and walked to the stable. After loosely tying the horse he dragged himself to walk inside. Sitting at the table was his sister Anne. She jumped from the table, nearly spilling her food, and walked with open arms towards Nicolas. It had been four years since they had seen each other and as she came closer she saw a changed man.
“My Nicolas, how have you been?” she exclaimed as she squeezed him

“I am fine. Where is father?” he replied, simply

“I believe he is out at the market” she said

Nicolas walked out the door without saying another word. The fact his father was at the market troubled him. When Nicolas had last been at home, his father’s business had been doing great. From his study his father controlled the sale of cowhides and leather across the entire southern region of Bretagne.

Nicolas moved sluggishly towards the market. The wind blew harder now and even in armor a slight chill moved over his body. For the first time in months the breeze touched his face as he removed his helmet and dropped it to the ground. He spotted his father and headed directly for him.
“Father, it is a surprise to hear you are at the market. What happened to Antoine buying the hides for you?” questioned Nicolas

“Nicolas, is this anyway to address me after being gone for four years? Give me a hug my son.” Responded his father, Joseph

“Let me finish this trade and we will go home. We will talk then” Joseph said

After purchasing hides from the local farmers, Nicolas and his father began the short walk home. His father explained to him how poorly the business had been going. Antoine and all the rest of the servants had stopped working when Joseph could not pay them any longer. His father’s company was in shambles, his name tarnished by utter defeat in battle, and still it would get worse.

After briefly discussing the past four years in a couple of sentences, the two arrived at their home. Nicolas went to get firewood before nightfall. His experiences had left him bitter and broken. He did not wish to talk to any member of his family. He had made up his mind to work with his father until his confidence was high enough to speak to Gabrielle again.

Gabrielle was Nicolas’ life before he was sent to battle. She was the only one he wanted to spend time with, and the one he was to marry before the outbreak of war. Nicolas cursed Charles the V for ruining his plans and his life.

“I hope he rots in the deepest pits of hell!” mumbled Nicolas to himself as he chopped some more wood.

Nicolas carried the wood inside and went out to bring water into his house for his first bath in almost a year. He had gone long before, but not while toiling in battle. Afterwards he felt refreshed, but no amount of bathing could remove the shame he felt. He went to sleep in his bed without whispering a word to his family again.

In the morning he awoke to the sunlight pouring through his window. His parents must have removed the cloth covering the window and used it for something else more important after Nicolas had left home. Nicolas walked downstairs and found nothing to eat. He had always remembered plenty of food available before the war, but the war had almost impoverished his family. He saw a small loaf of bread and tore a small piece to eat. He washed it down with only a small bit of water he had brought in the night before for his bath. It was not nearly enough, but it filled his stomach to begin looking for work. Nicolas was part of a rich family, but was brought up well. He realized he had to work for the things he wanted in life and would not have liked to sit idle at home anyway. He sought out his father to ask what was required for the day.

“Retrieve some feed and give it to the livestock” his father demanded

Nicolas moved to do his tasks. He was slow, but deliberate. He had always wanted to get things correct; a true perfectionist. At this time, however, it was all the longer he would spend working instead of thinking of the war. At every idle moment he thought about the war and what it had done to him and his father. How Gabrielle was ripped away from him at the worst possible moment.
Despite his hardest efforts, he could not stop thinking of his love. Nicolas finished feeding the livestock and went inside. He found a bit of wine, drank, and went outside again. This time in search of Gabrielle, not work.

When he walked upon her house the trees were bare, the grass was brown, and the house was on the verge of falling apart. Such a grim sight, but it was of no consequence to Nicolas. Once again he slowly walked to the front door. It could have easily been opened by a hard knock, so he softly tapped on the door. An elderly woman came to the door; someone Nicolas recognized.

“My goodness Nicolas, what has happened to you?” she exclaimed

“The war my good mother. The war” he replied “Where is Gabrielle now?”

“You must come inside. Come, come” she waved her arm and opened the door further.

The inside of the house looked no better than the outside. There were cracks everywhere, and the emptiness of the house spoke volumes of the economic hardships of the family. After brief insignificant chatter the elderly woman uttered words he wished he’d never heard.

“Nicolas…, Gabrielle, has been married. After the taxes Francis has imposed, we could no longer think to pay for her to live with us. She was married to Bertrand, your old military school friend.” She explained

As a military arms dealer, he had made plenty of money from the war. The families of his business labored endlessly on swords, spears, and armor for the armies of France and their king, Francis.
The words burned holes in the heart of Nicolas. He felt as if he’d be hit in the stomach with a club. He looked at the dirt stained floor. A tear trickled down his cheek and mixed with the dirt. His hands covered his face, wiped his eyes, and he looked up.

“It was nice to visit with you. I have work to do, and must be leaving” he abruptly explained and left the room.

Nicolas was utterly broken. He neither noticed, nor cared any longer for the bare trees, and brown grass. The small beauties were no longer important when his world had crumbled before him.
He walked home in a daze trying to completely understand what had happened. A numbness fell over Nicolas as feeling slipped from his body. His entire life had been ripped from him over this short period of time. As he neared his home he thought to himself “There can be no happy ending here”.