Near Merseburg, July 28th, 1813
"Are you sure this is wise sire, especially at a time like this?" Marshal Ney asked quisitively "Michel Ney urging caution?" Napoleon retorted with a chuckle from his carriage "Maybe Dr. Larrey should have a look at you." "I can't fix whatever's worked its way into him!" Larrey called from his horse a ways up the column "I'm a physician, not a magician!" Napoleon let himself have a laugh at that, as Ney bristled on his own mount, trying his best not took offended "Anyway, I'm certain this is a good idea, I want to be as far North as possible when the armistice takes effect tomarrow." Ney nodded "Isn't there a risk that-" "Ney." Napoleon cut him off sternly "You're the last marshal I'll allow to lecture me on politics, I'll do my job, you do yours." Ney bristled as he rode back to the rear.
Nobody knew it, but barely a quarter mile away, in a patch of trees near the path the army marched on, the enemy lay in wait. Colonel Grekhov and his namesake regiment of Don Cossacks had been sore about missing the great clash at Leipzig, their mission had at first seemed quite mundane: Ford the Elster, conduct reconnaissance, raid targets of opportunity and then return. They'd managed that without much fuss, but what they hadn't expected was for the French to start North. That morning, they awoke to the sound of French drums and marching songs. The colonel couldn't believe it, the French were still operating in what they considered friendly country, and had marched right past the small woods where they Cossacks had encamped.
"Are you sure this is a good idea sir?" Grekhov's second in command asked in a hushed tone "Well.." The Cossack shrugged "It's certainly worth it. If we succeed, this war is over, or at least cut down a damn good bit. If we fail... well I doubt the Tsar will take much notice of losing a few of us." Suddenly a messenger arrived on foot "Sir! We've spotted what looks like Bonaparte's Headquarters, I saw his carriage myself, no indication we've been spotted." Grekhov nodded "Good, good. Get the men saddled up, not a peep until I give the order to charge."
Napoleon chaffed in the sweltering carriage "Anyway." He asked Berthier "What's this I hear about a Coalition regiment of defectors?" "I believe it's fabricated sire, a handful of officers perhaps, the rest are just Germans in our uni-" Their conversation was cut short, as the sound of thundering hooves and the terror inducing cry of "URAHHHHH!!!" filled the air. All eyes turned to the left of the road, as a tide of men and horses swept at lightning speed towards the French column.
"Aw for fucks sake." Was all Napoleon could say as the horde surged towards his column. Berthier was first out of the carriage "Draw swords gentlemen!" The marshal called as he drew his own "Defend your Emperor!" Napoleon plucked a ready pistol and sword from a box, before scurrying behind Berthier. He considered standing with his chief of staff, but thought better of it, rushing behind his carriage just as the sea of bloodthirsty horsemen came upon him.
It was carnage. Scattered soldiers fired wildly as lances and bayonets clashed. Napoleon watched the horses surge past his carriage, before wheeling around with frightening swiftness, all the while skewering whoever they could find. One horseman locked his eyes on the Emperor, charging headlong, spear in hand. Napoleon aimed his pistol and fired, missing wildly as the Cossack rushed him. A corporal shoved him aside, taking the lance thrrough the stomach as he was swept away, screaming all the while as the cavalryman dragged him downn the road.
Napoleon was almost offended he'd been ignored in favor of the corporal, before he realized: Without his trademark hat and chasseur's jacket, which he'd removed in the heat, he was hard distinguish from a camp follower or a cook. All around him though, men and officers were viciously fighting for their lives. Napoleon spotted Dr. Larrey, a saber in each hand fighting off half a dozen Cossacks as he defended a wounded officer.
Finally, the blowing of bugles heralded relief for the French. Ney was back, and with his typical reckless courage, led an ad hoc mix of cavalry and his own staff against the Cossacks. Napoleon couldn't help but grin as Ney dove into the fray, ripping one horseman straight off his mount, sabering him as he tried to stand. Finally under the onslaught of the French cavalry and infantry, they'd had enough. the Cossacks turned and galloped back into the woods, all the while under French fire.
Minutes later, as the soldiers were continuing to capture wounded Cossacks and collect their precious horses, Napoleon greeted Ney "You're as punctual as you are brave Ney." Napoleon said, the adrenaline still making his blood run hot. "I'll see you're rewarded for it." "Of course sire." Ney replied "I seem to have lost another horse, perhaps your majesty would indulge me with one of the mounts of these... brutes." "Take your pick by all means." The Emperor replied. "Sire." General Lebrun called out "We found their commander." He stepped over to Napoleon, flanked by a bearded and bloodied figure "Speak French?" Napoleon asked him "Bit of German." He said shaking his head. Napoleon nodded "You're a credit to you're people, you got stones." He gestured appropriately. The Cossack seemed confused, but nodded "General, please see the colonel is treated as his rank dictates." "As you wish sire." Labrun nodded and led him away.
Napoleon finally would find Berthier, nursing a nasty gash on his forehead "You look no worse for wear sire." the marshal grinned "Good showing Berthier, I need a favor though, between us." Berthier looked as his expression darked "Have Larrey make up a vial of poison, preferably something that works quickly..."
