Spain, Catalonia Legion Headquarters.
Lieutenant General Varna stared helplessly at the map. Barcelona was not exactly a fortress, but he had few soldiers at his disposal and even fewer siege weapons.
The Austrians had landed nearly half a month ago, yet showed no intention of attacking.
The Carlist rebels in Catalonia were certainly restless, but these jumping clowns were hardly worth paying much attention to.
Most of the Carlist forces were made up of bankrupt peasants and small landowners, along with bandits and opportunists. They were weak and had no grand ambitions; all they wanted was to loot villages.
Most importantly, although these people flew the Carlist banner, they did not obey Carlos. They did not even know where Carlos VI himself was.
On top of that, their reputation was worse than that of the government forces. At least the government army needed excuses like conscription and taxation, and had to take responsibility for public order and regional defense. The Carlists, on the other hand, simply robbed people in broad daylight.
Yet the Austrians' behavior was baffling. They had done almost nothing useful apart from repairing the city walls.
They were handing out alms in the city, teaching the farmers outside the walls how to farm, and reopening factories.
"Could they be here to help the poor?"
Lieutenant General Varna could not help wondering.
Then Varna looked at his officers.
"How many troops do the Austrians have?"
"We're not sure. Probably tens of thousands."
"Tens of thousands? How many tens of thousands, exactly?"
Varna was thoroughly frustrated. Half a month had passed, and these idiots still had no idea how many enemy troops there were.
"We don't know. The Austrians came in batches, sending some in and taking others away. And they won't let us into a lot of places."