I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 701 Loyalty and Shame (asking for monthly tickets!)
In front of the ore washing pool, all the miners fell silent.

The rumbling sound of horse hooves in the distance seemed to be pounding hard into the hearts of each of them.

Makovsky looked at the narrow mountain road behind him, which could only accommodate two or three people. There were nearly two thousand miners and volunteers, and it would take at least half an hour to get them all up the mountain.

The Austrian cavalry would not give them this opportunity.

He sighed, explained the current situation to Major Ficotte's translator, and then said:
"It seems that we have to repel those cavalry first."

Ficotte frowned and looked around at the exhausted and wounded miners. He said, "You need to rest. Go back to the mountain first. I will stop them here."

"How can this be possible? You just rescued ..."

"Stop talking nonsense. You don't have much fighting power right now." Fikete patted him and bowed his head. "Please believe me, this is not the decision of His Majesty the Emperor. Please forgive him."

As he spoke, he waved to the volunteers and said loudly:
"Line up. Quick, three rows in a horizontal formation, block the mountain pass! The enemy may be here in ten minutes!"

Makovsky hesitated for a moment, and finally saluted him seriously, then ordered the uninjured people in the patrol to stay and help, and the others to retreat immediately into Tarnovsk Mountain.

Old Vicha roughly counted the number of volunteers, then sighed, took off the gray-green coat he had only worn for a month, and stuffed it into his son's hand:

“I told your mother before that Milochi Tailor’s price was too high and asked her to return the goods, but she wouldn’t listen.

"Look, now it turns out she was right. It's going to be very cold in the mountains these days, so you should put it on."

Little Vicha took the clothes in surprise and was about to ask, but he saw his father turned around and ran to Makovsky and said loudly:

"Captain, I still have strength. Oh, and I have enough ammunition."

The latter nodded, indicating that he should join the patrol.

"Dad..." Little Vicha wanted to follow him, but his father glared at him sternly.

The miners and mercenaries walked up the mountain along the winding path. Next to the ore washing pool, 800 volunteers began to line up under the command of the officers.

An Austrian artilleryman who had been captured earlier raised his head cautiously, pointed to the side and rear of the volunteer soldier guarding him, and whispered:

"That...the cannon over there, perhaps, can still be used."

It was a basic requirement for artillerymen to nail the portholes of their cannons shut before retreating or surrendering to prevent them from being captured by the enemy, but he didn't seem to have done that just now.

Soon, about five or six hundred Austrian hussars appeared in Ficotte's sight.

Behind the volunteer line of defense, cannons roared, and a shell flew over the heads of the Austrian cavalry, but it also frightened them and made them shrink their necks.

Most of the volunteers were small nobles or merchants, and they were not very good at operating cannons.

The Hussars whistled, and instead of charging the volunteers' bayonets, passed in front of their ranks and fired a round of musket fire.

The Austrian commander looked back at the formation of the volunteers, then led his men in a circle and attacked again towards the weakest point.

Major Ficotte ordered the reserve troops to fill the gap and ordered the rear rank to fire.

The cannon had been replaced with grapeshot and fired a shot at the cavalry group at close range.

This time, the large number of scattered shells finally paid off. Three cavalrymen were thrown off their horses and blood splattered far away.

But this Austrian cavalry was obviously the elite troops under Wurmser. It did not slow down at all, and flew past the designated attack position, causing chaos in the volunteer ranks.

In this way, after the Hussars repeatedly charged five or six times, the volunteer army's defense line had been distorted, and only a dozen soldiers were still holding on at the most prominent position on the east side.

If it weren't for the help of the cannon, that place might have been torn apart just now.

The cavalry commander immediately spotted the opportunity and did not even ask his men to reload. Instead, he turned around and rushed there in a triangle formation. "Victor, take your men to block the left wing!" Ficotte had already stood beside the defense line and shouted, "Aim the cannons there too!"

Two squads of hussars passed the salient of the volunteers at full gallop, and several soldiers were felled in a flash by their sabers.

The cavalrymen moved to the right, and the cavalry squad behind them immediately rushed over with swords swinging, staring at the gap left by the dead soldiers.

The cannons fired, killing the four foremost cavalrymen, but the men behind them trampled over their broken pieces and slammed into the infantry.

A dozen horses and their riders fell over, and three or four cavalrymen behind them were approaching.

Standing in front of them were only two volunteers with bayonets raised at an angle.

There were gunshots coming from the back row. It was the reinforcements from Victor's company, but they were still more than 60 steps away and could only run and shoot. Meanwhile, the third wave of cavalry on the opposite side had already started.

Herbert Schmitz's legs were trembling and his mind was blank. He just held on to his flintlock tightly, waiting for the cavalrymen to hit his bayonets or for their sabers to hit him.

The dark shadow of the cavalryman, carrying a gust of wind, nimbly avoided his bayonet, but the saber, reflecting the cold light, stopped in mid-air.

The cavalryman on horseback said in a trembling voice: "Herbert? Is it you?!"

Herbert Schmitz looked up and saw his brother's face in the sunlight.

Read the error-free version at 69shuba! 6=9+shu_ba is the first to publish this novel.

"elder brother?!"

"Get out of the way, you'll die!"

"No!"

Mort Schmitz yelled: "Idiot, you are committing treason!"

Herbert Schmitz shouted even louder: "No, you are the traitor! You also betrayed God!"

"I...you...Your Majesty the Emperor..." Mort Schmitz raised his saber again, his face pale and almost hysterical, "Get out of the way!"

Herbert Schmitz also clenched his gun: "I am ashamed of you!"

Bullets were fired from the rear of the queue again, and the two cavalrymen beside Mort Schmitz fell off their horses instantly.

The cavalry commander in the distance shouted anxiously: "Schmitz, kill him!"

As long as the last two infantrymen disappeared, the cavalry that followed would be able to cut into the gap, and then continue to tear to both sides until those "Poles" were all crushed.

Mort Schmitz's knife seemed to be frozen.

All he heard was "I'm ashamed of you". He didn't know whether he should be loyal to the Emperor or listen to the voice of his conscience.

The sound of horse hooves behind me gradually approached.

Suddenly, there was a "bang" from the side and rear, and Herbert Schmitz's neck was torn open by the lead bullet and he fell on his back on the ground.

"Do not--!"

Mort Schmitz turned his head and saw a cavalryman who had fallen off his horse earlier holding a musket with smoke still coming out of the muzzle.

His eyes turned blood red in an instant, and he turned his horse's head and rushed towards the guy.

At the moment when the tip of the saber was about to pierce the cavalryman who fired the gun, he suddenly closed his eyes and let the saber fall to the ground...

In just this short period of time, Victor had led his men to the gap in the queue, with dozens of bayonets pointing forward at the same time.

(End of this chapter)