anwhile, in the Kasbah Palace of Tunis, Director of Intelligence Isaac was discussing the sa topic with his subordinates.
"Yes, there will certainly be tribes willing to take risks just to make so money," Isaac said with a cold smile. "In fact, we need such 'examples.'"
"Need them?" one of the intelligence officers asked in surprise. "What do you an?"
"Versailles has issued orders. If a sheriff is killed in a serious incident, the tribe responsible will face severe punishnt," Isaac explained. "If the tribal leader takes responsibility, all the tribe's leaders will be arrested. If no one steps forward, all the adult mbers of the tribe will be turned into laborers!"
"Won't this cause backlash from other tribes?" the officer asked.
"There's no need to worry," Isaac waved dismissively. "Murdering a sheriff is a serious cri. Other tribes won't sympathize with them. In fact, the tribe the sheriff ca from will likely thank the military for avenging their mber.
"Once one or two tribes serve as 'examples,' the other tribes will beco very respectful of the sheriffs."
Algeria. Annaba.
The commander of the Algerian Guard, Kahler, desperately rolled up the secret letter, his hands trembling so much that he had to repeat the action five or six tis before placing the rolled paper into a ssage tube.
The letter had just arrived from Mitidja and could be summarized in one sentence: The British had cut off all support.
From funding to weapons, from intelligence to military advisors, everything had disappeared overnight.
This ant that Algeria now had to face France's wrath alone...
The Dey ordered Kahler to hold Annaba at all costs until the Algerian ambassador could negotiate a ceasefire with the French.
But Kahler knew very well that even if he were commanding the elite Algerian Guard of the past, he would not be able to withstand the powerful French forces—he had already proven that last year.
And now, the so-called Algerian Guard under his command was just a ragtag group hastily assembled and poorly trained over the past year.
He estimated that it would take just 3,000 French soldiers, a single charge—no, maybe even just a few rounds of cannon fire—to break his defenses.
Wait, he still had the Moroccan Black Guard. Kahler suddenly had a glimr of hope. With the help of the Moroccans, he might be able to hold Annaba for a month or two.
He quickly ordered his attendant, "Prepare a generous gift. I need to see Saïd Pasha!"
The Tunisian border town of Tamirait.
Lefebvre peered eastward through his binoculars for the 30th ti that day, but his view was still nothing but barren land.
Impatient, he turned to his aide, "Aren't those guys here yet? My wife and kids could have gone on a picnic and returned faster than they're moving!"
"Uh, yes, Colonel, they are already two days behind schedule..." the aide stamred.
"Two days and seven hours!" Lefebvre shouted.
He had already been extrely displeased about being posted to Tunisia—the rest of the Guards Corps had gone to Silesia to face off against the Prussians in a real fight, while he was stuck here playing gas with weak North African 'natives.' Even if he won, there would be nothing to boast about later.
Just a month ago, the war in the Southern Netherlands had reached its final stages. After the Prussians withdrew, General Léotard led the Austrian army to attack the rebels in Brussels.
The main force of the Southern Netherlands rebels had already suffered heavy losses, and most of the soldiers defending the city were new recruits. Additionally, with Hanover and Prussia pulling out, their morale was at an all-ti low.
So, with the help of Lefebvre's corps, Léotard quickly captured Brussels, and the Southern Netherlands Parliant was dissolved.
Vandernoot and so key mbers of the Brabant uprising fled to the Netherlands, while most of the other rebels surrendered.
With that, the Southern Netherlands, except for the Walloon region, was back under Austrian control.
Joseph had ordered the Guards Corps to rest for a month before heading to Silesia to fight.
As for Tunisia, Sherer's corps of 20,000 n would have been enough to capture Annaba, but Joseph wanted to make sure the Tunisian tribes got the ssage. So, he dispatched Lefebvre with 4,000 n from the Guards Corps to assist in the operation.
If it weren't for Joseph's orders to wait for the "tribal warriors" to arrive and take them to the front lines, Lefebvre might have already captured Annaba a week ago.
Finally, around 4 PM that day, nearly 5,000 tribal warriors began to arrive in Tamirait. By the next afternoon, the last of them were still outside the town, with hundreds more missing after falling behind.
Lefebvre, already fuming, imdiately ordered the tribal army to move to the front lines. The Guards Corps was already prepared to launch a full assault.
The tribal warriors, blissfully ignorant of what lay ahead, were all eager to kill so Algerians and earn so glory.
The next morning, as the morning breeze dispersed the mist, Kahler peered through his binoculars at the ominous sight of the French army arrayed against him. His heart skipped a beat.
Soon, the French army's bugles sounded, and he saw nearly 5,000 French soldiers marching in... a very disorganized three-line formation. Well, it was barely a formation, advancing slowly toward him.
Kahler didn't dare underestimate them, thinking it might be a new French tactic or a skirmish formation. He imdiately ordered his troops to be on full alert and notified the Moroccan Guard to coordinate their defense.
About 50 minutes later, the French "skirmishers" finally lumbered within 400 paces of the Algerian lines—during which ti their formation had disintegrated twice, forcing their officers to halt and regroup.
Kahler studied this strange French force through his binoculars, puzzled, until his aide reminded him that it was ti to open fire.
With the thunderous roar of the Algerian cannons, a few iron balls whistled through the air, landing just in front of the French lines. The already disordered formation paused.
Less than a minute later, more cannons fired. This ti, the Algerian gunners were luckier—three 6-pounder British shells landed directly among the "tribal warriors."
Imdiately, a series of faint "cracks" echoed, and three blood-soaked trenches ford in the middle of the tribal army.
For a mont, everything was still. Then, the "tribal warriors" erupted in screams of agony. The officers couldn't control their n, and hundreds of them imdiately turned and fled.
When the third volley hit, the entire tribal army collapsed—thousands of n fled in panic, so running straight into the path of the Guards Corps' vanguard, but even then, they didn't stop.
Lefebvre watched grimly as his soldiers raised their bayonets, forcing the fleeing n to scatter to the sides.
Kahler stood frozen in shock—had he really just successfully defended his position?
(End of Chapter)
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