The Long March - Cat and Mouse

Storming the Winter Palace
Vasili Vasilevich Sokolov
(Source)

The Eminence made his way through the deepening shadows, sticking to alleys and side streets as much as possible. He had to hide behind a trash bin briefly when he heard shouts from down the street. As the noise got closer, he saw the flickering of torchlight and many angry voices raised in song.

He cocked his head, the tune sounded familiar. It wasn't the National Anthem, not the new one anyway. Then he heard it clearly as the chorus arose. It was a song from a war long ago, from a time when the nation had found itself fighting a civil war. The tune made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

The mob surged past, in the direction of the palace he realized. Once they were gone, he began to move once more. As he kept to the shadows along the side of the alley, he heard a shout.

"Hey you, what are you doing back there? Show yourself!"

The Eminence didn't move, perhaps whoever it was would move on, thinking that they hadn't really seen anything at all.

"Come on, Andrew, we need to keep going. We'll miss all the fun at the palace."

"Don't be too sure, Ananias. Word on the street is that a number of Imperials have gathered there. Whether for safety or plunder is anyone's guess."

Then the voice turned its attention back to the Eminence.

"Come out where I can see you, hands up! No use trying to hide, I can see your foot poking out."

The Eminence looked down, sure enough, his foot was in a patch of light. How had he not noticed that?

The battalion had reached within a league of the garrison by nightfall on the second day. A messenger from the main body indicated that they would be up no sooner than four days hence. The column commander felt it was best to move by easy stages rather than wear the troops out by force marching them.

The Sergeant shook her head, "Looks like we'll have to keep things under observation until then. Scouts estimate enemy strength at three to five thousand."

"Really?" The Major remembered being briefed that the Meridionals had come over the border with close to 35,000 men. Probably somebody mishearing a verbal report. He could see how someone could hear "35,000" when the report had been three to five thousand.

"What do the scouts say about the enemy, regulars? Tribesmen? Bandits?" The Major realized that the numbers meant nothing if they were facing a rabble. But the Meridional regulars were tough and well-drilled, they'd have a fight on their hands if they had brought their regulars over.

"Predominantly regulars, the horsemen that were reported are tribesmen, dangerous but they don't like a stand-up fight. Probably a few hundred bandits in the wake of their army. Looting and murdering as is their wont." The Sergeant spat in the dirt at that, like most professionals, she despised marauders.

The Major was studying his map when the lead scout reported in. 

"Corporal, come have a look. I want to position the battalion in a position that's defensible but where we can keep an eye on the Meridionals."

The Corporal came over, brushing dirt from his uniform. It was obvious he'd done some crawling around close to the enemy.

"Sir?"

"Take a look, we're here," the Major pointed at the map, "I'm guessing you fellows went down this gully and then up behind these hillocks on your scout."

The Corporal looked at the Major in surprise, "You know the area?"

"I was stationed here when I was a private. Nice country, but rough."

The Corporal studied the map, then pointed and said, "This ridgeline here should be perfect. It's flanked by deep gullies, hard to cross, lots of brambles in 'em. Almost as good as barbed wire."

"Yep, I agree. Why don't you lead the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Companies to the position, I'll follow with the 1st. Before we come up, I need a messenger to head back to the column," he said, looking at the Sergeant.

"I'm on it, Sir." The Sergeant went to make that happen.

Daniel was watching the regulars through his glass. They were taking up a defensive position along Long Ridge, a good position, he thought.

He'd had word from Asher, the main body of the column was still coming on, taking their time. Asher had also sent word that a messenger had come in from the capital. There was rioting in the streets, rumor had it that the Imperials had fled the city.

Daniel was still toying with the idea of sending a message to the regulars moving into position along the ridge. With the Meridionals across the border, it didn't seem right that the Centralians should be fighting each other. The Imperials were different, they spat on their fellow citizens so no one cared what became of them. His own wife had referred to them as scum and criminals. Which he couldn't argue with.

"Benjamin?" he whispered.

"Chief?"

"Go find Abel, I've got a proposition for him. And for those regulars down there."

"Be right back."

Magnus had brought his forces up to the palace. They'd rushed the place, hoping to seize it by a coup de main, but there were people inside who weren't ready to quit. There were a number of bodies in the street leading to the main gate to attest to that.

He'd sent some of his people to the armory with specific instructions on what he wanted. "Don't try and take the place, if it's defended, let me know. If it isn't, go inside and see if there are any cannon there."

Antonius had smiled, "If there are cannon, we'll drag 'em back. To the palace?"

"Where else?"

Cannon fire would dissuade all but the most dedicated defenders in there, he figured. The Imperials had scattered, couldn't be more than thirty or forty guardsmen left. One of the palace servants had come out indicating that he didn't want to die inside. He'd thrown his lot in with the rebellion. He'd told them that the guardsmen were willing to sell their lives, if they stood half a chance.

Cannon would probably convince them to give up.

The Eminence's hands were tightly bound behind him, he was blindfolded and gagged. The people who had taken him had also bloodied his lip when he had proclaimed his innocence.

The party which had taken him had hustled him along, with not a few blows when necessary, as they rushed through the night. It seemed that they were on some sort of secret mission.

He was brought up short and immediately was on his guard.

"Who the hell is this?"

"Caught him skulking about in the rear, obviously thought to avoid being seen. Well, we saw him, sure we did."

"Get that blindfold off of him, let's see his face."

The Eminence blinked in the bright torchlight. At first he couldn't see a thing, just the shapes of a number of people, men and women, surrounding him. All armed.

"What the ..."

"D'ya know who you've captured, Marcus?"

"Some skulker, I dunno."

"It's His Eminence, in the flesh. What a happy surprise."

The Eminence said not a word, to protest the identification would be futile, he recognized the voice of the speaker. One Gustavus, a frequent visitor to the palace, he was a noted vintner and supplied the palace wine. He had spoken to the man on more than one occasion.

He realized then, that the game was up.