The crowd stopped thirty or forty meters away, and the air grew taut enough to snap.
"Don't be afraid, let's charge in!"
"Get lost, lackeys of the Tyrant!"
"Hand him over!"
Some people in the crowd began picking up stones and hurling them at the high walls. The Empire soldiers immediately raised their Guns in unison and aimed them at the crowd.
"Don't do anything rash!" a hoarse voice rang out from the crowd. "Those guys really will shoot."
Adorno turned his head and saw a man in his forties, wearing a worn old Military Uniform that had been washed until it fuzzed, limping as he squeezed through the crowd. Remembering what had happened at the Cafe that day, Adorno clenched his fists. "Are we just going to abandon Mr. Steffens?"
The old soldier pointed at the Cannons atop the Hofburg. "We need things like that too. Otherwise, no matter how many people charge over, they'll only be throwing their lives away."
A man dressed like a noble beside him said disdainfully, "I'm very much looking forward to seeing you summon the Guards Artillery Battalion."
The old soldier ignored him and lowered his voice. "The Royal Arsenal has countless Cannons. I moved cannonballs there before, so I know the place well."
The young noble cut him off. "Don't be stupid. There are guards there too."
"Yes, there are," the old soldier said with a smile. "But there are only a little over a hundred of them."
The young noble looked somewhat surprised. "How do you know that?"
The old soldier turned to him. "At the end of last month, a massive convoy left Vienna. Perhaps you noticed it too. It was Ammunition being sent to Switzerland."
"By convention, the Arsenal has to send men to escort it all the way