Yet all of this ca at the cost of destroying the National Guard.
Napoleon's heart churned with turmoil. Was he truly going to do this? Without the National Guard, the Corsican independence movent would lose its backbone.
His gaze fell on the large headline of the Ajaccio Daily:
"Corsican Parliant Passes Law to Dissolve the National Guard by Overwhelming Majority."
He frowned deeply.
It wasn't his decision to crush the National Guard; it was the folly of the Corsican Parliant, which had passed such a law. Among those who voted in favor, at least half were mbers of the independence movent.
In other words, the independence movent had destroyed its own foundation.
Napoleon inhaled deeply. Paoli had fallen into disgrace—or perhaps, he had never been honorable to begin with. The independence movent was rotten to the core, and they had lost the ability to achieve Corsican independence.
If he stayed with the independence movent, he would never achieve greatness.
The thought gave him pause.
Why, at this mont, was he thinking about greatness?
Clutching the ship's railing, Napoleon examined his heart with unprecedented honesty.
Was it truly only about seeing Corsica beco a republic?
After hesitating for several seconds, he shook his head slightly. It seed that all along, he had rely wanted to use Corsican independence as a stepping stone to secure a prominent position in its governnt.
After all, he had grown up in Brienne, near Paris, and lived like a proper Frenchman. His life had been far better than that of most Corsicans. Perhaps giving other Corsicans the sa opportunities he'd had was the true way to grant them freedom and prosperity.
Suddenly, Napoleon felt a sense of relief and turned to return to his cabin.
Starting as the interim commander of the Corsican military garrison wasn't such a bad beginning, he thought. Once he climbed higher, he could help his holand develop even further.
Outskirts of Asco, Northern Corsica
"Colonel, I really cannot let you enter the city," said a well-dressed man with a silver cane tucked under his arm. He looked apologetically at Cesare Colonna Paoli. "You know the parliant has forbidden your troops..."
"You're a mber of the independence movent too!" Cesare grabbed the Asco municipal commissioner's arm and pointed toward the temporary encampnt in the distance. "Our soldiers need supplies. We have less than a week's worth of food left."
"It is precisely as a mber of the movent that I've co to see you," the man replied. "But neither I, nor the town hall, nor the rchants' guild can defy the law. Please understand."
The Corsican Parliant had been elected by the people, and its decisions carried unquestionable authority among Corsicans. Years of propaganda by the liberals had instilled in the populace the belief that "the parliant represents ." So how could one oppose oneself?
As a result, the National Guard, once held in high regard, now struggled even to gain entry to towns. Gone were the days when Corsicans greeted them warmly with food and wine.
In fact, after the parliant's law to dissolve the National Guard took effect, more than a quarter of its mbers had deserted and returned ho. The number of deserters continued to grow.
After all, their leaders in the independence movent had also voted in favor of the law. Without any clear leadership, morale among the soldiers plumted.
"At least give us so bread and wine," Cesare pleaded in frustration. "For God's sake."
The commissioner hesitated, considering whether to spend his own money to buy supplies to placate the National Guard, when a mounted scout rode up urgently.
"Colonel, we've spotted French forces five miles to the north—approximately 2,000 n."
Cesare's face turned pale. "Did you communicate with them?"
There hadn't been any conflict between the Corsican National Guard and the French garrison for a long ti—mainly because the National Guard couldn't match them in strength. This could just be a routine French troop movent.
The scout's voice was grave: "They refused contact, sir."
Hearing this, the lieutenant colonel and other officers gathered anxiously around.
"Colonel, it seems they're here for us."
"We only have 1,300 soldiers. A direct fight would be disastrous..."
"Colonel, we should retreat into Mount Rous."
Corsica's terrain was mostly mountainous, with over 80% of the island covered by rugged peaks. Only the coastal plains near the diterranean were suitable for habitation.
In the past, whenever the National Guard faced a French siege, they would retreat into the mountains. Their familiarity with the terrain, coupled with support from mountain villages, allowed them to evade capture and exhaust French forces.
Eventually, the French would tire of the high costs and withdraw, allowing the National Guard to reerge.
Now positioned north of Mount Rous, they could retreat into the mountains within a day. But Cesare hesitated.
In recent weeks, every village and town they'd passed had refused to aid them. After the Earl of Buttafuoco's extensive propaganda campaign, the National Guard had beco the island's pariahs.
Cesare looked toward the distant city of Asco. If the National Guard retreated into the mountains and the villages refused to provide food, his 1,300 n might starve.
More importantly, he had another mission to complete.
Sending the Asco commissioner away, Cesare called an ergency eting. He addressed the officers:
"We've fought the French many tis before—they're not invincible.
"We must defeat them here and continue south to Ajaccio. We need to force those foolish parliantarians to repeal the law. That's the only way for the Guard to survive!"
The officers exchanged uneasy glances but eventually nodded in agreent.
They had often triumphed over the French garrison stationed in Corsica. What they didn't realize was that this ti, they were facing the terrifying "Corsican Monster."
With their current numbers, even doubling their forces wouldn't make much difference. It would be like lambs challenging a lion.
Through his telescope, Napoleon observed the National Guard's encampnt and smiled faintly.
The intelligence bureau's report was accurate—the Guard was indeed near Asco. Acting on this tip, Napoleon had landed at Calvi, the closest port, and marched rapidly for two and a half days to catch up.
A staff officer approached briskly and saluted.
"Commander, our scouts report that the enemy is setting up defenses. It appears they intend to fight."
Napoleon's mind raced. It seed his mission to eliminate them would soon be complete.
He motioned for an aide to bring a map and pointed to a high ground to the west.
"Send the artillery to this position—"
He stopped mid-sentence, raising his hand to silence himself.
"Wait... this might be an opportunity."
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