"Impossible! The Warsaw garrison is only a few kilometers from Warsaw City. They'll launch their attack by tomorrow morning at the latest!"
Venyabetlovsky forced himself to summon a little strength and shouted.
"But what if they can't get here?"
Landry Promis countered.
"Impossible! At that distance, how could they not see us?" Venyabetlovsky suddenly realized something.
"Are you asking me to order them to leave? No! That's absolutely impossible! I'd die before doing that!"
Venyabetlovsky wasn't bluffing. The stakes were simply too high. If he really helped the Poles, his entire family would be dragged into it, and he would face certain death.
"No. I'll personally see you safely back to the Tsar."
Landry Promis said with a smile, glancing at Venyabetlovsky's freshly bandaged thigh.
Venyabetlovsky couldn't figure out what the other man was up to. But there were nearly thirty thousand troops stationed outside the city. Even with many of the positions unfilled, their strength still exceeded twenty thousand.
The rabble inside the city were no match for the elite Polish troops of 1830. They had nearly been beaten by their own guards. Expecting them to defeat a regular army was pure fantasy.
Even if people had recently slipped into the city, there couldn't have been many. And besides the garrison in Warsaw, Russia had troops stationed elsewhere in Poland. No matter what, these Poles couldn't defeat the Russian garrisons in Russian-controlled Poland.
Only he and the Tsar, far away in Saint Petersburg, could command the Warsaw garrison. Even with his written orders, the garrison commander had the right to question them. Unless Venyabetlovsky appeared in person and ordered the troops not to enter the city, they had no reason to stand by while a successful uprising unfolded.
Suddenly, he thought of one possibility: the imperial envoy who was