Chapter 1215 Fraud
"Impossible! The Warsaw garrison is only a few kilometers away from Warsaw City, and the attack will be launched tomorrow morning at the latest!"
Venbetrovsky shouted with a little bit of spirit.
"But what if they can't come?"
Landre Promi asked back.
"Impossible! How can they not see it at such a close distance?" Venbetrovsky suddenly realized something.
"Do you want me to order them to leave? No! This is absolutely impossible! I will never do it even if I die!"
Venbetrovsky did not talk nonsense. After all, this matter involved too much. If he really assisted the Poles, then his family would be affected, and he would face a situation where he would die.
"No, I will personally return you to the Tsar safely."
Landre Promi looked at Venbetrovsky's thigh that had just been wrapped and said with a smile.
Venbetrovsky couldn't figure out what the other party was up to, but there were nearly 30,000 garrisons outside the city, and even if there were many vacancies, the number of troops was more than 20,000.
These rabble in the city are not the elite of Poland in 1830. They can hardly beat their own guards. It is simply a fantasy to expect them to defeat the regular army.
Even if someone has sneaked in recently, the number cannot be too large. In addition to Warsaw, Russia has garrisons in other parts of Poland. In any case, these Poles cannot defeat the Russian Polish garrison.
The Warsaw garrison can only be mobilized by himself and the Tsar in St. Petersburg. Even with his own handwritten order, the garrison commander has the right to question it. Unless he appears in person and orders the garrison not to enter the city, there is no reason for the garrison to sit back and watch the fire start without taking action.
Suddenly he thought of a possibility, that is, the imperial envoy who was on the way. The imperial envoy is equivalent to the spokesperson of the Tsar. If it is the imperial envoy's order
Venbetrovsky shook his gradually dizzy head. The Tsar's imperial envoy is even less likely to obey the orders of the Poles.
And no matter what, there are tens of thousands of Russian troops in the Russian-controlled Poland. The Poles have no chance at all. In the end, they can only flee into the mountains and forests. The result will not change. He must not be fooled by this Pole.
Time goes back to five days ago. After leaving the cold St. Petersburg, the imperial envoy Khlekov just entered Poland and felt the warmth of spring. It was not only the weather here, but also the enthusiasm of local officials, nobles, and merchants.
That kind of eagerness was even more anxious than the groom on his wedding night.
The imperial envoy Khlekov knew people's hearts well. The more anxious they were, the slower he had to go, so that he could control them.
Those local officials and gentry in Poland were indeed as flattering as he expected, which made Khlekov feel very comfortable.
It is no exaggeration to say that he has fallen in love with the job of imperial envoy at this time, especially the generous tributes that made him overjoyed.
Khlekov patrolled everywhere every day accompanied by officials and gentry, and then there were countless dances and dinners.
In Zhitomir, the capital of Volhynia, the mayor of Volhynia held a grand welcome ceremony for Khlekov.
At the dinner, there was a lot of drinking and toasting as usual, and then there were local nobles who came to make friends.
Everything seemed to be exactly the same as usual, and Khlekov somehow got a little too proud and drank a few more glasses.
However, it was these few glasses of wine that made him sleep for a whole day, and he felt dizzy after waking up, and he couldn't continue on the road and stayed in Zhitomir.
Fortunately, the mayor of Volhynia was very respectful to him, and still treated him well and asked people to continue to pay tribute to him.
Khlekov was a little embarrassed. He was not a big shot in St. Petersburg, and he didn't have many opportunities to see the Tsar. He really couldn't help so many people.
But he still had to eat, drink, and take the money. As for the matter, he would talk about it later.
After finally getting on the road again, Khlekov found an army welcoming him in front of a small town. The troops were flying flags and the horses on both sides were snorting impatiently.
Although the cold wind was howling and the soldiers' faces were frozen red, the army was still neat and tidy. It was obvious that it was an elite army.
Khlekov couldn't help but become more proud. He liked military parades or it was a hobby engraved in the bones of Russians.
He enjoyed this feeling very much. The only regret was that the governor did not come in person, but he didn't want to pursue it because of the company of two generals.
The local officials had outstanding reception ability and were willing to spend money.
A small city could allow tens of thousands of people to spend money like a drunkard. Khlekov sincerely admired the mayor and even wanted to promote him.
However, just when everyone was living a peaceful life, a terrible news came.
"Warsaw has fallen."
"How is this possible?"
Hlekov almost jumped up from his seat, with an expression of disbelief on his face, and asked with a very ugly face.
"Where did this news come from? Is it accurate?"
The accompanying official was not sure either.
"Sir, we have received news from different cities several times today, so it should be correct."
"Should? That means there is no conclusion! Do you know the harm of spreading rumors?"
The accompanying official immediately shut up. Hlekov said angrily.
"Go and find out now! If you can't find out, and miss the opportunity to fight, I will hold you accountable!"
The accompanying official fled away, and Hlekov sat there and fell into deep thought.
It is unlikely that the city of Warsaw will fall. After all, there are troops stationed outside Warsaw. It will take a day or two at most. Anyway, everything will be settled before I arrive in Warsaw, so I don't need to worry.
Khlekov was about to lie down when he suddenly realized a problem.
Where did the army come to greet him? With tens of thousands of troops, even if the Tsar personally paraded the troops, this would be the scene.
Soon the news came back. The news of the fall of Warsaw was absolutely true. What was even more shocking was that in addition to Warsaw, there were rebellions in Lodz, Brest, Norvi, Libava, Minsk and other places. occur.
This news made Khrekov's head buzz, and cold sweat soon appeared on his forehead.
Khrekov turned to the two generals who came to greet him and said angrily.
"Are the garrison outside Warsaw just for decoration? Who told you to leave your post without authorization! Are the orders of that idiot Wenbetrovsky more important than the orders of the Tsar?"
Instead of feeling ashamed under Khrekov's questioning, the two generals glared at each other.
"Didn't you send a letter to the garrison requesting to inspect the troops on behalf of the Tsar?"
"Nonsense! When did I make such an unreasonable request? Isn't it the idea of Wenbetrovsky and Lemonto to be the guard of honor?"
"No! It's you. We still have your handwritten letter."
"Ridiculous! Why don't I remember writing something like this!"
Khlekov shouted angrily, but as the letter unfolded, he was dumbfounded.
The black words on the white paper clearly showed his name, as well as his seal and official special ink pad. The big bright red seal couldn't be faked.
But Khrekov can assure the gods and Buddhas in the sky that the handwriting is definitely not his, and he never wrote this letter.