Ney looked back at the pontoon bridge over the Danube River for a long while, then turned to Moreau.
"Are you certain we're really not going to Munich?"
Moreau flipped through the Commentaries on the Gallic War in his hand and nodded. "Yes."
Ney looked at the pontoon bridge again. "Although Bavaria has twenty-five thousand troops, they'll likely be too late to pull them back from Memmingen to Munich."
Memmingen lay on Bavaria's southwestern border, where the main force of the Bavarian army was currently stationed.
Moreau raised the book in his hand and smiled. "Do you know why the Roman armies were so formidable? Because they prized steady, step-by-step advances.
"If Dernberg's corps returns to defend Munich in time, we'll face a hard battle."
Ney gripped his riding crop tightly. "Even against more than twenty thousand enemies, I'm confident I can defeat them!"
Moreau patted his old comrade on the shoulder. "I believe in your Courage, but that would cost our soldiers heavy casualties. Besides, Austria could send reinforcements to strike us from behind at any moment."
Ney frowned. "Then where are we going now?"
He suddenly remembered Moreau's words about advancing steadily and immediately understood. "I see. You intend to take Amberg, then head north into Thuringia. That truly carries little risk..."
Moreau glanced at him and said calmly, "No. We're advancing on Vienna."
Ney nearly stumbled out of his saddle at those words. "Have you gone mad? Austria's main forces may all be in Italy, but they can still scrape together twenty or thirty thousand soldiers within their own borders.
"And we'd be driving deep in alone. Our supply line could be cut at any time..."
Moreau smiled faintly at him. "It doesn't matter, so long as Franz II believes we would risk everything to assault Vienna."