Life of Being a Crown Prince in France-Chapter 516 - 429: War Indemnity

Lefevre looked at the Iris flag fluttering atop the coastal defense fortress of the Port of Annaba not far away and shook the reins in high spirits.

He had never thought the battle would go so smoothly before. It only took two and a half days to take down the entire Annaba. To be aware, with the marching speed of the Tunisian Legion, it would take almost two days to traverse the whole territory of Annaba.

That is to say, in a few days he would be able to return to Europe and most definitely catch up with the great campaign in Silesia.

A company commander rode up to Lefevre and tipped his hat in salute, saying,

"Sir, we have found a large number of heavy cannons in the fortress of the People of Algiers!"

"Oh?" Lefevre waved his hand without any particular interest, "The cannons of the People of Algiers aren’t particularly valuable."

With the casting level in North Africa, the firepower of a 32-pound shore battery cannon is still not as good as Europe’s 18-pound cannon.

The company commander immediately said,

"Sir, those cannons are made in England. There are three 32-pound cannons, eight 24-pound cannons, and the lighter ones have not yet been counted."

Lefevre’s eyes lit up at once—if they were British goods, so many heavy cannons would certainly be a boon!

Indeed, it was a boon—at that time, the Duke of Leeds had spent tens of thousands of British Pounds building the coastal defense fortress of Annaba, yet not a single cannon had been fired before falling into the hands of the Guard Corps. Some cannons still had their factory grease seals intact.

While they were talking, another cavalry unit arrived to report that they had found a large number of flintlock guns in the port warehouses, including Prussia’s Potsdam 1740 and the Dutch AI, as well as some Brown Bess rifles from England. The total quantity had not been tallied yet, but it was estimated to be at least over 7,000.

These guns were all from the British second batch of aid to the Algiers Guard, but due to the procrastination of the People of Algiers, months had passed and they had not yet reached the military’s hands, so now Lefevre reaped all the benefits.

Lefevre suddenly felt that not going to Silesia might be acceptable too—just by confiscating so many supplies, he should be able to get commendations from the General Staff.

He turned to his aide and said,

"Find a way to move some of the fortress cannons over to Constantine (a city in Algiers, originating from Rome, not the Constantinople of the Ottoman Empire), then we can head back."

Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.

Constantine was a city of Algiers to the south of Annaba. Holding it meant controlling the essential route from Algiers to Tunisia. With the assistance of the 24-pound cannons, the Tunisian Legion would then be able to complete the task of defending Annaba. Enjoy new adventures from novelbuddy

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Tunis City.

Ksar Hellal Palace.

Chandarle, the envoy of the Dey of Algiers, paced anxiously up and down the corridor.

He had been prepared that if he couldn’t meet with the French negotiator by tomorrow, he would take a ship to Paris.

Fortunately, the bigwigs from Paris had arrived. He just hoped that General Caheller could hold on for a few more days, then he would be able to secure the French military with interests.

Soon, footsteps could be heard from the corridor, and Count Saigul, the French special negotiator, accompanied by several officers of the General Staff, approached.

Chandarle hurried forward, greeted them respectfully with a hand on his chest, and spoke an Arabic salutation.

Saigul seemed to pay no mind to whatever the translator said, and walked straight into the hall before sitting at the head of the long table—presently, Tunisian society favored the French style, and people of status no longer wished to discuss matters while sitting on the floor.

Chandarle had no choice but to follow them embarrassingly into the hall, and after a long wait, he managed to interrupt the casual conversation of the French, hurriedly interjecting,

"Esteemed special envoy, I am Aga of the Divan of Algiers, and the full representative appointed by the Dey for negotiations..."

The Divan was the congress of Algiers. His role was similar to that of a Speaker.

Saigul glanced up at him and drawled,

"Oh, and what are you prepared to discuss with me?"

Chandarle promptly said, "Special envoy, we should discuss a ceasefire in the Annaba area..."

As Saigul listened to the translation, he smiled, raised his hand, and interrupted him,

"That will be unnecessary, the fighting in Annaba ended the day before yesterday."

He turned his head toward an officer at his side:

"Lieutenant Colonel Adrian, our legion should already be on the way to Constantine, shouldn’t they?"

Of course, under the current international situation, France had no plans to attack Constantine, but that did not prevent him from using this to intimidate the People of Algiers. With the remnants of Algiers’ armed forces, the French Army could even march all the way to their capital, Mitidja.

Chandarle’s pupils contracted suddenly; he knew that although he had yet to receive the news, the French people were unlikely to lie about matters of warfare.

He said in panic, "The truth is, there should never have been a war between Algiers and France, it’s not good for anyone..."

Count Saigul coldly interrupted him:

"No, the war began the last time the Algiers Guard invaded Tunis."

Chandarle cursed the British thousands of times in his heart—they had promised full support for Algiers’ attack on Tunis, but the moment the French Army appeared, they vanished without a trace.

"That was just a certain obligation toward the Tunisian Guard previously," he could only say helplessly, "We realize it was a mistake and are willing to do something to save the peace between our two nations."

Count Saigul said decisively, "My country has invested more than 200,000 livres to cope with the invasion from Algiers. That loss must be borne by Algiers."

200,000 livres translates to approximately 4.4 million livres. It wasn’t that Joseph was soft-hearted, but for Algiers, with only a population of just over two million, this was already their limit.

Count Saigul continued, "Moreover, Annaba as the gateway to the invasion of Tunis will be managed by my country hereafter. And Constantine, neighboring my country, will become a buffer zone where no military troops may be stationed."

"This..." Chandarle said urgently, "These demands may be a bit too much..."

"This is the King’s decision," Count Saigul glanced at him sideways, "You can refuse, and then we will continue our talk at Mitidja."

"No, no! These can all be negotiated..." Chandarle waved his hands in a hurry.

Tunis.

The province of Sousse.

Spike was staring blankly at the low hill behind the tribe, the boom of cannon fire still ringing in his ears occasionally.

Suddenly, a crowd of tribesmen carrying spears and cursing made their way angrily toward the main road beside the tribe.

Someone grabbed him and said, "Spike, let’s go teach that Sheriff a lesson!"

"That guy actually let go of whole ten carts of olive oil. We didn’t even get a penny for the security fee."

"And last time, he let a fur trader from the city come into our tribe..."

"How much money have we lost recently? I’m going to kill that bastard!"

"Right, kill him!"

"The Sheriff?" Spike was startled and suddenly remembered the white uniform of the Sheriff—very similar to the uniform of the French Army he had seen in Annaba—and he shouted in terror, "Are you mad? We must not attack the Sheriff!"

Seeing that he couldn’t stop the tribesmen, he ran frantically to the Clan Leader’s residence, burst into the house:

"Uncle, stop them quickly! Hurting the Sheriff will bring the military!"

"The military?" the Clan Leader said disdainfully, "What’s there to fear? The warriors of our tribe will drive them away."

"No, no..." Spike’s eyes filled with fear, "Right, have you ever seen the Algiers Guard?"

"Hmm? No."

"They are devils! Devils that can tear a person apart instantly!"

"Why are you talking about this?"

"And those soldiers..." Spike swallowed, his face turning ashen, "They are war gods who can tear devils apart! Absolutely no one can withstand them. If we don’t stop everyone now, our tribe is finished!"

On the main road beside the tribe, more than twenty people who had been to the battlefield of Annaba were frantically trying to drive away the troublemaking tribesmen, terrified they might harm the Sheriff in the slight.