Jackson said. Gwen nodded as she stood on the wall, peering into the distance. The French had finally shown themselves, two days after the brief and brutal battle near the homestead. She watched as their army slowly deployed, infantry moving forward while horsemen set up mounted patrols and a handful of artillery pieces took up firing positions. It looked as though the entire French army was surrounding Amherst, laying siege to the city. She knew, intellectually, that there couldn't be more than twenty thousand soldiers at most, but her mind refused to believe it. “Plenty of former slaves too,” Jackson added. “Porters, as I expected.” “Yes,” Gwen said. Her eyes narrowed. The black slaves were digging trenches of their own, readying French positions in case the defenders launched a sally. She knew it wasn't going to happen - Jackson didn't have the numbers, with or without the militia - but she supposed it kept the French from launching an immediate attack.
