Chapter 25

It felt wrong, standing next to Javert and the other witnesses while waiting on the verdict. They took quite some time to come to a conclusion. After Grantaire’s part there wasn’t a lot they could discuss about, but Grantaire was pretty sure Combeferre and Courfeyrac had bribed some of the judges. He was wondering about the mayor. Was he trying to help them get Enjolras’ free of charges? Did he know about Enjolras’ other plan? (Whatever that plan may be).

But eventually the jury returned. Grantaire had never felt more nervous. He hoped so very much Enjolras’ plan had failed. Maybe the jury knew him as the drunk, the one who kept visiting the pub. As the one who would tell nonsens. Maybe they wouldn’t listen to him.

But when Enjolras was called forwards, when the mayor stood up to speak, Grantaire didn’t even need to hear the words. He knew what the verdict had become. Enjolras would die in three days' time.

---

“How could you!” Grantaire had barely left the courtroom before hearing that familiar voice. Javert was walking beside him, but Éponine didn’t care about that. “You know that’s not what it was. He was good for us!”

Beside Éponine stood the crew. Bahorel, Feuilly ,Bossuet, Musichetta, Marius and Cosette, Jehan and Montparnasse, Combeferre, Courfeyrac. Joly. Most looked annoyed, angry. Joly looked completely heartbroken.

“Traitor!”

Javert put a hand on Grantaire’s shoulder and pushed him forwards. Oh god, he wanted to explain the situation to his friends so badly. He wanted to tell them it was all part of Enjolras’ plan. That he had never betrayed them, that he cared so much for them. Instead he could only let Javert push him forwards, look away from his friends, try not to feel so hurt by the anger and betrayal in their eyes (in that he failed). He knew he wouldn’t see them again, or at least not until the actual process. Would Enjolras’ plan work? Would he even survive?

Would Grantaire ever be able to talk with his friends once again?

But he walked with Javert. It should be a victory lap. They had won the case. He felt like he lost everything. He felt so alone.

“You did well,” Javert said. Then why didn’t he feel like it?

“What will happen now?” Grantaire asked.

“Now Enjolras is being escorted to the cells, where he will stay until the execution. Then we will show the town that no man can escape their fate. That no one stands above the law.” The realization suddenly hit Grantaire. Of course they wouldn’t let Enjolras go back to that house that was disguised to not look like a prison, but was a prison nevertheless. A man with nothing to lose could do desperate things. Of course they would lock him down, chain him down like a pet perhaps. Wasn’t it an ironic parallel? It all started with one of them chained down like a dog. It would end like that too.

"You cannot return home today, Grantaire. His crew knows where you live."

Would that be his life from now on? Hiding from those he once called friends - those he still called friends? Maybe if Enjolras' plan worked out. Maybe if the captain survived and would explain that Grantaire was merely following his orders. Then they would understand, perhaps. Whether they would forgive him would be a whole different thing, but at least he would no longer have to hide.

But if Enjolras' plan, whatever that may be, failed? Grantaire didn't want to think about it. He couldn’t imagine Enjolras there swinging on the noose. A lifeless body, a mere shadow of the man he was in life.

He would need to leave Nassau then, he knew that. He didn’t want to leave the town. It was a foreign town the Mussain had brought him to, just as he had told in court. He was a stranger here, not really belonging. But he had never belonged anywhere else too. Always a foreigner, always a bit different. He didn't want to leave the town that had at least not spit him out.

Yet.

"Where will I be staying then? I have no one here I can turn to." Merely an hour ago he had had the Mussain to stay if he needed to. He has been sure there was always a place for him. Now he had nothing.

"You’ll be staying in the fort." The fort, the most important and strategic place in Nassau. It was where the mayor lived, where Javert stayed. The one who controlled the fort, was the one who controlled the harbor. There were cannons set, ready to defend the harbor from strange ships, or to prevent ships from leaving. It was how Javert had been able to control the city and the ships so quickly.

It was also where the dungeon for prisoners was.

A carriage was waiting on Javert, ready to take him up the hill. Javert motioned for Grantaire to enter the carriage too. It felt like he was following Javert into the lion's cage. It should be comforting knowing the mayor was there too, but at the same time Grantaire knew he had betrayed the mayor too. The mayor had been there to help Enjolras. To help the others conduct a plan. And here they were.

The ride to the fort was a silent one. Grantaire didn't know what to say to the inspector, and the inspector wasn’t one for small talk it seemed. He was unreadable, as he was staring out of the window. Grantaire had no idea what to make of the turn of events. He just knew he had to be careful around the inspector. Javert might have warned him about Enjolras’ charm, but the inspector himself knew how to play the game too. He wasn’t as charming as Enjolras, but he could convince people to do his bidding nevertheless.

The moment they arrived, Javert almost seemed to vanish, leaving Grantaire to fend for himself. He didn’t even know what room he would stay in, let alone where to go. He had nothing of his personal belongings, not even clean clothes. But leaving the fort was an absolute no-go, and the guards watching the grand entrance made that clear too. It made Grantaire wonder who was the real prisoner here.

There was nothing else to do than wander around through all the hallways this fort seemed to have. Maybe someone would know where he could go, or maybe he would find the kitchens on his own. He had become quite hungry after the long day at court. At least it would give him something to do to keep his mind from spiraling.

A door stood a bit open, and when Grantaire entered the room, it turned out to be an office. In the middle stood an old wooden desk, covered in papers. The walls were covered with planks full of seemingly expensive books.

Everything in the room seemed to tell Grantaire he wasn’t supposed to be here, but really, when had he ever been a good listener to that? So of course he didn’t leave the room, but started to explore the various book titles. He had never been a very frequent reader. Books could never hold his attention for long, and work had always been more important than education. Money paid the bills, books didn’t. But the books here had golden titles, titles in cursive, and they all looked like they held secrets no man could understand.

“Beautiful, aren’t they? And those are only the outsides,” he heard an unfamiliar voice. Grantaire tried not to look like he got caught, while turning around and facing the mayor. After the trial that face had been notched in his brains.

“I’ve learned that the outside can be pretty deceiving,” he answered. Maybe not in books, but in nature, in life, in people. In every ship that looked so promising, that promised a better life, but turned out to be a slave ship.

The mayor smiled. “Then only a look on the inside can convince you of its beauty I guess. But I believe we haven’t formally been introduced to each other.” He offered his hand. “I’m Jean Valjean.”

Grantaire shook the mayor’s hand. “I’m Grantaire,” he said.

The mayor nodded. “I know. Cosette told me about you.” It somehow didn’t feel complimentary, even when the man kept smiling like he had just met his long lost son.

“She is wonderful,” Grantaire answered. What else could he say? Cosette was wonderful, and kind, and a great human being, and if the mayor had been the one to raise her, then he must be a good person too.

Once again the mayor smiled. “Yeah she is. I’m glad she chose the Mussain to sail on. She has always been called by the sea, even as a young girl. Enjolras has taken good care of her.”

“Do you know Enjolras well?” Grantaire asked. It felt like a betrayal almost, talking to the mayor like this.

Valjean shrugged. “I know what Cosette has told me about him. I know what he has shown me over the years. He is brutal, perhaps. He is definitely one to dream big and to achieve even bigger. But he has his heart on the right place.”

"I'm sorry," Grantaire said. He had no clue what else to say. He wasn’t one to be rendered speechless easily, but lately it had started to look like a habit.

The mayor merely smiled. Again. That man never stopped smiling, didn’t he? He even made it look genuine, like Grantaire hadn’t caused the downfall of a man he held in high regards. Maybe it was that that made him such a good politician. No one would know his true thoughts. He would just talk less, and smile more.

"Don't blame yourself. The counsel would have convicted Enjolras any way," the mayor said. "He sails under the black flag. That is reason enough for conviction."

"And yet you've never convicted or arrested him all these time," Grantaire said. It was Valjean's doing that Nassau could have flourished the way it did. He could have put an end on all piracy, or maybe he could have once before the pirates found their core here.

"No, I haven't." It wasn’t any new information, and he certainly seemed like he wasn't going to share more information.

"I'll leave," Grantaire said. The mayor nodded.

"Goodnight Grantaire. You did well today." It sounded so strange from the mayor. It sounded so genuine, and if Grantaire hadn’t known the mayor was involved by the scheme of the crew, he would have believed the mayor was really proud of him for locking Enjolras away. But now? Now he didn’t know.