Chapter 239: Closing the Final Gap
Joseph was admiring the rolling foothills of the Alps in the distance—enjoying the scenery was one of the few pleasures during the march—when he suddenly noticed that a cannon had gotten stuck ahead. He immediately spurred his horse and rode over.
The soldiers, straining with all their might to pull the cannon free, noticed a shorter figure approaching. When they saw who it was, they grew excited. "It's the Prince!"
"The Prince is here to help us move the cannon!"
"Be careful, don't let the Prince get hurt..."
"Come on, everyone! Let's show the Prince how strong we are!"
Though the number of soldiers pulling the cannon didn't increase, the heavy 12-pounder suddenly lurched forward, freeing itself from the muddy pit with a jolt.
"Thank you, Your Highness!" The soldiers cheered, beaming with pride as they saluted the Prince.
Joseph nodded and returned their salute, then brushed the mud off his hands and climbed back onto his horse. In truth, his barely 15-year-old frame didn't contribute much muscle to the effort, but every soldier would remember the moment the Prince had helped them pull that cannon, translating that memory into a boost in morale on the battlefield.
But Joseph's presence on this campaign wasn't just about boosting morale. There was something he needed to oversee personally, something the officers might not dare to fully commit to without his direct involvement.
As they continued their march, the sky gradually darkened, and the Guard Corps began setting up camp for the night.
Perna led the newly formed nurse corps, driving a few wagons through the camp.
The nurses called out in cheerful voices as they passed by: "Make sure you drink hot water!"
"If you drink cold water, no listening to Loreena sing later!"
"Anyone here still need water?"
They skillfully ladled out hot water from the wooden barrels on the wagons, distributing it to the laughing, whistling soldiers.
Joseph also took a cup from Perna—today, it was hot tea. The military nurse had taken over the role of the Prince's personal doctor, and now she was also encroaching on Emon's duties.
Just as Joseph was about to enjoy his tea, he saw a messenger galloping toward the camp from the north.
Emon took the letter from the messenger and brought it to Joseph. "Your Highness, it's from Versailles."
Joseph saw Briand's seal on the envelope, took a sip of tea, and said, "Read it aloud."
"Yes, Your Highness." Emon opened the letter and quickly scanned its contents. "Your Highness, Archbishop Briand reports that he is still following your instructions to hold daily meetings to discuss 'how to quickly reach a reconciliation with the military.'"
Joseph smiled and nodded.
He knew that Versailles was full of military nobles' informants, and this strategy was meant to convince them that the royal family was hesitant to anger the entire military and was currently trying to find a way to back down gracefully.
His biggest concern was that the military might suddenly back down collectively, coming to Versailles to apologize, which would make it difficult for him to strike decisively.
Emon continued, "Additionally, Archbishop Briand mentions that the Duke of Broglie has already set out for Versailles and has written to express his unwavering loyalty to the King. General Rossignol has also sent word that he will soon arrive in Paris."
Joseph was a bit surprised by this.
Earlier, he had selected several influential military nobles who hadn't been directly involved in the conspiracy and had sent them letters in the King's name. The letters stated that if they followed the King's orders, they would continue to have the King's trust and hinted that they could receive important positions.
He had expected that only after he made his most crucial move would these figures start to reconsider their loyalties. But he hadn't anticipated that these generals would be so quick to sense the shifting winds and make the "optimal choice."
The Duke of Broglie, in particular, stood out. Though he was old and didn't command a large force, he had been a marshal during the reign of Louis XV, with significant influence in the military. After the current situation was resolved, the Duke would be perfect for helping to reintegrate the old military into the new structure.
After pondering for a moment, Joseph returned to his tent and wrote a letter to Briand, instructing him to keep the Duke of Broglie's defection to the royal cause a secret for now and suggesting that the old Duke could be promised the position of Minister of War.
According to Joseph's military reform plans, a General Staff would soon be established to handle the actual deployment and command of the army. The role of the Minister of War would become increasingly insignificant, making it an ideal bargaining chip for securing alliances.
The next morning, the Guard Corps set off again to the sound of marching music.
Gazing southward, Joseph asked General Berthier beside him, "General, how far are we from Montpellier?"
Berthier promptly replied, "96 kilometers, Your Highness."
He added, "In three days, we'll likely encounter the Montcalm Corps."
Joseph nodded, taking a deep breath. Just three more days, and the final gap in the royal forces would be closed. After that, no one would be able to stop him from propelling France forward!
Western France, Montcontour.
General Sill, commander of the Paris Corps, calmly surveyed the blood-stained streets, watching as soldiers escorted the ringleaders of the riot past him.
The corps' staff officer rode up, shouting, "General, the rioters on Long Flagstone Street have also been dispersed. There are no more rebels in the city. A total of 122 people have been arrested."
General Sill nodded indifferently. Brittany, this backwater region, was always producing troublemakers. Even after the Church began distributing food, some of the rioters continued to cause trouble, even looting the Church itself.
His corps had been hardened on the Flanders frontier, and dealing with such rabble was child's play.
He turned to the staff officer. "Where's the next hotspot?"
"Angers, on the western side of Anjou, General."
"That's quite a distance. Issue orders for the troops to rest for half a day. We'll set out at dawn."
The mission of the Paris Corps was to sweep up the remaining pockets of stubborn rebels, with the furthest destination being Béarn in the south. He had to make the most of his time.
While the Paris Corps was clearing the battlefield, a smaller skirmish was taking place near Valence, northeast of Montpellier.
In Amene, a small town north of the city, hundreds of rioters were still gathered, trying to break into a noble's estate.
Near the clock tower at the edge of town, a sergeant handed his binoculars back to the officer beside him and frowned. "Lieutenant Buonaparte, we've only got 50 men, and they've got three or four hundred."
But Lieutenant Buonaparte's eyes gleamed with excitement. He pointed toward the rioters and asked the soldiers around him, "What do you see?"
No one answered.
Lieutenant Buonaparte raised his voice. "I see our battle honors! The enemy is weak and pitiful, while you are well-trained soldiers. If you follow me, we'll crush them in an instant!"
He drew his sword and marched toward the rioters, not even considering the possibility that his men might not follow.
(End of Chapter)
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