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Chapter 428: Tribal Warriors

Meanwhile, in Kahir Palace in Tunis City, Tunisia's Director of Intelligence, Ishaq, was discussing the same topic with his subordinates.

"Yes, there are definitely tribes willing to take risks for a bit of money," Ishaq sneered. "In fact, we need such an 'example.'"

"Need?" The intelligence officer beside him asked, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Versailles has issued orders that if a serious case of an assassinated peace officer occurs, the tribe responsible will face severe punishment," Ishaq declared. "If their tribal chief takes responsibility, all high-ranking tribal members will be arrested. If no one steps forward, all adult members of the entire tribe will become laborers!"

"This... this won't cause backlash from other tribes, will it?"

"No need to worry," the Director of Intelligence said, waving his hand dismissively. "This is a capital crime: murdering a peace officer. Other tribes certainly won't sympathize with them. In fact, the peace officer's own tribe will even thank the military for avenging their kinsman.

"Once one or two tribes serve as an 'example' for everyone, the other tribes will become very respectful of peace officers."

...

Algiers.

Kehler, commander of the Algiers Janissaries, despairingly rolled up the secret letter. His trembling hands made him repeat the action five or six times before he finally managed to put the rolled paper into the letter tube.

The letter had just arrived from Mitidja, and its content could be summarized in one sentence: the British had cut off all aid.

From funding to weapons, from intelligence to military advisors, everything had vanished overnight.

In other words, Algiers now had to face France's wrath alone...

The Dey had ordered him to hold Annaba until the Algiers ambassador concluded armistice negotiations with the French.

However, Kehler knew perfectly well that even if he were commanding his former elite Janissaries, they would be no match for the formidable French—he had already confirmed this last year.

As for the so-called Janissaries under his command now, they were merely a ragtag band, scraped together from here and there, with less than a year of training.

He estimated that just three thousand French soldiers launching a charge—no, even just a few rounds of artillery fire—would be enough to collapse his defensive line.

'No,' he suddenly thought, a jolt going through him. 'He still had Morocco's Black Guards. With the Moroccans' help, holding Annaba for a month or two should still be possible.'

He quickly waved to his attendant. "Quick, prepare a generous gift! I need to see Said Pasha!"

...

Tamra, a border town in Tunisia.

Lefebvre peered eastward through his telescope for the thirtieth time that day, yet his vision still showed nothing but the barren wilderness.

"Haven't those fellows arrived yet?" he asked his chief of staff impatiently. "My wife takes the children on an outing faster than they travel!"

"Uh, yes, Lieutenant Colonel, they are already two days behind schedule..."

"Two days and seven hours!" Lefebvre roared.

He was already extremely displeased about being assigned to Tunisia. Most of the Guards Corps, apart from him, had gone to Silesia to engage in a head-on confrontation with the Prussians. Yet he was stuck here, playing with the "feeble" North African natives! Even if they won, there would be nothing to boast about later.

Just a month prior, the conflict in the Southern Netherlands had drawn to a close. After the Prussian withdrawal, General Leo had led the Austrian army in an assault on the rebels in Brussels.

The main force of the Southern Netherlandish Rebels had previously suffered severe losses; most of the city's defenders were raw recruits, and with Hanover and Prussia successively withdrawing their forces, morale was exceptionally low.

Thus, with the assistance of Lefebvre's Legion, Leo swiftly captured Brussels, and the Southern Netherlands Parliament was declared dissolved.

Van der Noot fled to the Netherlands with some of the core members of the Brabant uprising. Most of the other rebels surrendered.

By then, with the exception of Wallonia, the Southern Netherlands had returned to Austrian control.

Joseph, for his part, ordered the Guards Corps to rest for a month before deploying to Silesia for operations.

As for Tunisia, Schérer's twenty-thousand-strong legion alone would have been sufficient to conquer Annaba. However, to exert adequate deterrence over the various Tunisian tribes, Joseph still dispatched Lefebvre to lead four thousand Guards Corps soldiers to assist in the operation.

Had it not been for Joseph's insistence that Lefebvre await the arrival of the "Tribal Warriors" and lead them to the front lines, Lefebvre might have already captured Annaba a week ago.

Finally, around 4 PM that day, a tribal army of nearly five thousand men gradually arrived at Tamra. By noon the following day, the tail end of the column was still outside the town. Furthermore, several hundred individuals had fallen behind and were unaccounted for.

Lefebvre, already seething with impatience, immediately ordered the tribal army to march directly to the front lines. The Guards Corps, for their part, were ready to launch an immediate assault.

Ignorance bred fearlessness, and the "Tribal Warriors" eagerly rubbed their hands, each contemplating how many Algerians they would eliminate and how much glory they would bring back.

Early the next morning, the dawn breeze dispersed the thin mist. Kehler, seeing the French army's grim formation through his telescope, felt a tremor in his heart.

Soon, the French side sounded a melodious bugle call, and then he saw a column of nearly five thousand French soldiers advancing—in a very disorganized three-deep line formation. 'Uh, well, it was barely a line formation,' he mused, as it slowly approached his position.

Kehler dared not be careless, assuming it was a new French tactic or perhaps a skirmisher formation. He immediately ordered his entire army to be on high alert, simultaneously sending word for the Moroccan Guards to assist in the defense.

Approximately fifty minutes later, the French "skirmisher formation" finally shuffled to a position about 600 meters from the Algiers defensive line. During this time, the formation had broken apart twice, forcing the officers to halt and regroup.

Kehler eyed the strange French army through his telescope, a puzzled expression on his face, until his attendant reminded him that it was time to open fire.

With a roar from the Algiers army, several iron cannonballs shrieked through the air before landing in front of the French formation. The already somewhat disorganized ranks instantly faltered.

Less than a minute later, the flash of cannon fire appeared again. This time, the Algiers artillery had better luck; three British-made 6-pounder cannonballs plunged into the crowd of "Tribal Warriors."

Suddenly, a series of sickening crunching sounds erupted, and three bloody furrows, made of limbs and gore, instantly appeared within the tribal army's ranks.

After a moment of stunned silence, the "Tribal Warriors" let out an chorus of wails. The officers couldn't control them at all; several hundred immediately turned and fled.

When the third round of cannon fire struck, the entire tribal army completely disintegrated. Thousands scrambled desperately, covering their heads as they fled, and didn't stop even when they came face-to-face with the Guards Corps' vanguard.

Lefebvre's face darkened as he watched his soldiers point their bayonets forward, finally forcing the routed troops to disperse to the sides.

Kehler, on his end, was frozen on the spot. 'Had he actually succeeded in holding the line?'