Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1544 - 1450: Why Does This Feel a Bit Different?
Gorzev thought for a moment, then nodded and said, “Kursk has a large number of merchants and young nobles, and the association has considerable influence there.
“If we start an uprising there, we can gather thousands of rebels in no time.”
The despair in Kishchenko’s eyes began to fade, and he hurriedly said, “What are we waiting for? Let’s set off quickly, the Tsar’s army could arrive at any moment…”
Major Nesterov interrupted him while looking at the map, “There is a permanent infantry regiment stationed in Kursk. Even if we caught them by surprise and entered the city, then what?
“Dolgurokov is still hot on our heels, and the Okka Cavalry Battalion from Tula must have already mobilized, waiting for us in the east. Should we head south to the desolate Kharkov instead? In winter, there’s no way to get any supplies there.”
Tula is a vital military production site in Russia, with a large number of elite troops stationed there. Going to a place like Kharkov, where one might not encounter a living soul for miles, is just waiting to starve to death.
Kishchenko’s voice was filled with panic, “There’s no time to think about all that now, let’s first get through the current crisis…”
“We’re going to die anyway, I’d rather have a decisive battle here with the Tsar’s lackeys!”
“Who knows, perhaps the Kursk garrison will join us.”
“Denisov won’t…”
As the group was arguing vehemently, two soldiers brought in a short man dressed as a merchant, “Major sir, this gentleman has a special pass.”
Chadov, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, immediately stood up upon seeing the man, “Mr. Sidorov, why are you here?”
Kishchenko also bowed slightly to the newcomer, knowing that Sidorov was close to “that gentleman.” In truth, he was an agent sent by the French Security Bureau to assist Olivier with the Russian plan.
“I heard that the Tsar’s army is very near,” Sidorov said urgently, “You must leave at once.”
The people in the room exchanged glances. Kishchenko asked uncertainly, “Are you saying, go to Kursk?”
Sidorov frowned, “Of course not, that’s a complete death sentence.”
“Then where can we go?”
Sidorov replied, “‘That gentleman’ has sent me to tell you that your only hope is to cross the Dnieper River immediately, head south from Cherkasy, and enter Moldavia.”
Kishchenko and the others were taken aback, “But Cherkasy is a Polish territory, they won’t allow…”
Sidorov produced a document confidently, “‘That gentleman’ has already obtained an order signed by His Majesty Stanisław, allowing you not only to head south through Cherkasy to Uman, but the Poles will also provide you with some supplies.”
Indeed, Joseph knew that this hastily assembled rebel army could not survive the Tsar’s encirclement. In history, the Russian Decembrist revolt, planned for over twenty years, was completely crushed in less than a week.
Thus, he contacted the Polish side in advance, asking them to assist the rebel army in escaping.
As long as these two thousand people can survive, there will naturally be opportunities to return to Russia in the future. At the very least, they can destabilize Russia’s influence in Moldavia.
The people in the room were all extremely shocked. They originally thought “that gentleman” was merely a very wealthy liberal, but they were astounded by his ability to influence the King of Poland!
However, the leader of the “Happiness Association,” Gorzev, hesitated and said, “Thank you for your help, but what we need to do is change this country, and escaping to Moldavia feels like moving away from that goal…”
Sidorov sneered, “Only by surviving can you achieve your goal, otherwise people will only remember you as ‘the foolish and brutal rebels’ as the Tsar calls you.
“You can settle near the Danube River, recruit many Cossacks there. Then, whether you occupy Iasi, or attack Yekaterinoslav to the east, you can make the Tyrant in the Winter Palace extremely uneasy.”
Iasi is Russia’s core stronghold in Moldavia, but due to various battles in recent years, Alexander I has transferred most of the garrison here to the battlefield. The rebels have every chance of capturing it.
And Yekaterinoslav is the passage between Russia and Cremea, and its importance is self-evident.
Chadov, trusting “that gentleman” absolutely, was the first to nod, “I agree to go to Moldavia.”
Major Nesterov also agreed, “You’re right, we need to survive first before continuing the revolution.”
Seeing that the military chiefs agreed to move south, Gorzev had no choice but to remain silent.
Several hours later, over two thousand rebels turned towards the west, and crossed the frozen Dnieper River overnight.
…
Paris, Palace of Versailles.
Hundreds of nobles crowded outside the King’s bedroom, either craning their necks to look inside or anxiously whispering among themselves, “What on earth happened? His Majesty was fine just yesterday.”
“I’ve heard it’s typhus. Possibly from a flea bite…”
“My God, I recall that this illness is not easy to cure…”
“May Jesus bless His Majesty.”
In this era, typhus is a deadly disease. Unless the patient’s physical condition is good enough to endure it, death is almost inevitable.
On the bed in the bedroom, Louis XVI lay with his eyes tightly shut, his neck covered with red spots.
Queen Mary and a dozen nobles of esteemed status looked nervously at the Imperial Physician, “Are you sure it’s this illness?”
“What’s the treatment?”
“How did His Majesty suddenly become ill?”
“Please administer medication quickly, don’t dawdle!”
Dr. Petti instinctively glanced at the Queen, coughed lightly and said, “Yes, it is typhus, the symptoms are very clear.
“As for treatment, according to my research, consuming fresh sparidae head can achieve very good results.”
Duke of Broglie frowned, “Sparidae? What’s that?”
Count of Artuwa recalled seeing it mentioned in the newspaper recently, “It seems to be a type of sea fish produced in Brittany.”
“Then quickly have someone send for it.”
Dr. Petti said awkwardly, “Ah, only freshly caught fish has the effect…”
Duke of Broglie shook his head, “Would His Majesty have to go to the seaside? How is that possible?”
Queen Mary immediately interjected, “As long as it can cure His Majesty, going anywhere is acceptable. Quickly, have someone prepare…”
She had just spoken halfway when Prince of Conde said solemnly, “His Majesty, in a condition of severe illness, should not travel long distances.”
Queen Mary was taken aback; this was not quite what she had planned.
Wasn’t it supposed to be everyone in a panic, then immediately following the Imperial Physician’s advice to send the King to the seaside for treatment, and then her arranged decoy would suggest that “the Palace of Versailles cannot be left without someone in charge”?
